Will O Wisp

by Risner, Fay

  “Yip,” Gracie said shortly.

  “Don't worry, Sheriff. The girls and I won't let her be anywhere close to here if we're in danger,” Melinda assured him.

  Neff was sleeping or passed out in his rocker on the front porch. His shotgun was propped up against the porch railing close by. He must have persuaded his sons to give it back to him. Sheriff Logan picked it up, cracked it open and took the shells out. He tossed them over the railing.

  May Jean whispered in a trembling voice, “He sleeps in that rocker a lot when he's been mean to the family. Mama locks the door so he cain't come inside until he sobers up. Most of the time, he don't even remember what he did. Papa ain't so bad when he's sober.”

  After he laid the gun down on the other end of the porch, the sheriff knocked on the screen door. Orie and Millard positioned themselves on each side of Neff while they waited. If he tried to run, they would grab him.

  Lettie came to the door with all her children behind her. The taller boys and girls peered over her shoulder and the small ones peeked from under her arms like a chicks with a setting hen. “What can I do for you, Sheriff?”

  “Mrs. Graves, I'm here to arrest your husband,” the sheriff said.

  “What for?” Lettie hand went to her mouth as she turned pale.

  “Right now he's charged with attempted murder of your children and Shana Lang,” the sheriff said.

  “Oh, but Sheriff, my husband never means to hurt any of us. He gets out of his head sometimes is all,” Lettie defended.

  “Is it true that Neff fired his shotgun at your children?” Sheriff Logan asked.

  “Yes, but like I said he didn't know what he was doing. He didn't hurt any of us. I wasn't going to bring the law in for what he done.”

  “You don't have to. Gracie Evans and Melinda Applegate are pressing the charges on behalf of Shana Lang. They witnessed Neff shooting his shotgun at the children.”

  Lettie stepped out on the porch and shouted toward the buggy. “Miss Gracie, you going to do this to my man?”

  “Yip, Lettie. Neff is a danger to all of you. He has to be stopped, before he kills one of you,” Gracie yelled back.

  “You people don't understand. Papa will be so mad when you turn him lose. We'll all be in real danger including you, Miss Gracie,” one of the older boys said over Lettie's shoulder.

  Sheriff Logan spoke up. “No worry there. Your daddy will be going to jail for a long time just on the attempted murder charge. He's going to have plenty of time to dry out from being a drunk.” He turned to Millard and Orie. “All this talk and that man slept right through it. Ready, men? We best get at this.”

  “We're ready, Sheriff,” Orie said.

  The sheriff shook Neff on the shoulder. Neff grunted. “Wake up, Neff. Open them eyes.”

  Neff shuddered and opened his eyes. “Who are you?”

  “Sheriff Logan. Neff, you're under arrest.” The sheriff put the handcuffs on Neff before he had time to figure out what was going on. “Now stand up.”

  “What you arresting me for on my own front porch being peaceable?” Neff whined.

  “For attempted murder of your whole family and Shana Lang,” the sheriff said.

  “You're crazy, Sheriff. I never did no such thing. I wouldn't hurt anybody,” Neff cried.

  Gracie climbed out of the buggy and marched to the porch with Melinda and the girls behind her. “Don't try to lie out of this, Neff. Melinda and I stood right over there in them trees, watching you shoot at your younguns and Shana last night.”

  Neff eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “Sure enough, you were spying on us from them trees.”

  “Yip,” Gracie declared.

  Neff turned to his wife and said testily, “Lettie, how could you let this happen to me?”

  “Don't go blaming your wife, Neff,” the sheriff said. “She didn't have anything to do with this. Gracie Evans and Melinda Applegate are the ones pressing the charges. Mrs. Graves didn't know anything about this.”

  “Might have known. You never did like me and my family,” Neff sneered at Gracie.

  “Don't have anything again your family, Neff. Just glad to see you will be locked up for a spell where you cain't harm any of them. Maybe the children will all be growed and gone from home before you get let out of jail. If Lettie is smart, she will find her another man before then,” Gracie declared.

  Millard rolled his eyes. “Listen to the match maker over there that's never said I do herself for some reason.”

  “You stay out of this, Millard Sokal,” Gracie snapped, her face turning red. “I'm talking about a fairly young woman with a bunch of kids that needs provided for and raised.”

  Melinda winked at Shana and snickered.

  The sheriff grabbed Neff's arm and led him down the steps. The screen door's rusty hinges squeaked as Lettie and the children stepped outside. They had mournful looks on their faces like someone in the family died.

  Neff gave the sheriff a half grin in a small admission of guilt. “My daddy had a saying that he said I should always live by just like he did. A woman, a dog and a walnut tree are all the same. The more you beat them, the better they be. I always listened to my daddy.”

  Melinda gasped. “How awful!”

  Gracie studied the woeful faces of Neff's family. She felt sorry for them. They didn't like the torturous trap they were in with Neff, but they couldn't imagine the future being any better. They had lived in this horrible world under the influence of Neff Graves for so long. Gracie feared some of the children would turn out just like him unless they were helped to see how to live a descent life.

  Melinda touched Neff's arm as he passed her. “I wish this didn't have to happen, Mr. Graves. I will pray for you.”

  “Much obliged, ma'am. I don't know what happened to lead me down this awful path. I saw temptation coming, but it saw me coming, too. I was just so weak demon drink finally got the better of me.”

  “Come on, Neff. It's a ways back to town. We got to go,” the sheriff said, jerking on his arm.

  As Melinda stared at Neff's hunched back, she said softly, “Poor man. He sounds like he tried so hard.”

  “No, he doesn't. That man is feeding you a song and dance to make you feel sorry for him,” Gracie declared. “He made his bed a long time ago. He has to sleep in it now.”

  “There isn't anyway that man can get out of this and come back to harm his family is there?” Melinda asked softly as she watched the sheriff pull Neff up behind him on his horse.

  “My old Uncle Hiram had a saying. Catch an Evans in a lie, and a thunder cloud will strike him from a clear blue sky. We got to believe there's no way Neff can lie his way out of this now that he's caught,” Gracie said.

  “I never heard much about your Uncle Hiram. What caused his death?” Melinda asked.

  “Mama told me a bolt of lightning struck him dead on a clear day. They buried him in my cemetery,” Gracie said with a deadpan look.

  “But what if Neff is able to make bail and get out. It wouldn't take him long to come after us and his family, too,” Melinda worried.

  “That ain't going to happen. Neff don't have two pennies to rub together nor a pot to pee in,” Gracie declared.

  “Oh, Gracie,” Melinda scolded. “Watch what you say in front of his children.”

  “Well, you're acting as skittish as an old woman. Stop borrowing trouble until we get some,” Gracie said.

  Melinda mumbled softly, “It takes an old woman to know one, Gracie Evans.”

  One morning, Gracie asked Shana if she'd like to go rabbit hunting. When they tromped around the gooseberry and blackberry thickets, Gracie said, “Now remember, girl, to get out of the way so you ain't in my line of fire when I shoot.”

  “To be sure, I'll be careful. I know what it's like to have a gun pointed at me,” Shana declared.

  As they walked through the trees, Gracie stopped in a clearing. “There's been a fire in here. Looks like it got away from someone.”

  Shana
looked sheepishly at her feet.

  Gracie put her hands on her hips and turned toward Shana. “You wouldn't happen to know about this fire, would you?”

  “Why would a fire be me fault?” Shana hedged.

  Gracie decided to give the girl the benefit of the doubt. “Well, might be the Indians built a fire and didn't get it put out good.”

  “That does sound possible,” Shana agreed with her fingers crossed behind her back.

  The dog feverishly sniffed at a clump of dried grass and flushed out a rabbit. The rabbit zig zagged around the trees. Gracie whistled sharply. The dog skidded to a stop. The rabbit halted, too. The only things moving were his perked ears. Gracie took aim and downed the rabbit on the first shot.

  She had Shana hold the rabbit by the legs while she pulled the hide off. They brought carcass to Melinda to boil. Gracie told her how to make rabbit track soup with vegetables in it.

  Gracie and Shana sat down at the table to drink a glass of ice tea. Melinda put together the meat and vegetables in a kettle. Shana ran her finger up and down the sweating glass as she thought about the whole process, and the fact she'd be eating soup made from the rabbit. “Did the rabbit have a name?

  “Of course, not. He was wild,” Gracie said. “Why would you ask?”

  “Because all the other animals around here have names, it seems,” Shana said with a shrug.

  Melinda raised an eyebrow. “She's got you there, Gracie.”

  “Wild animals don't have to have names. All rabbits look alike. Besides, they were put on this earth to be food for us humans. How you coming with the soup, Melinda?”

  “All we can do is let it cook until lunch time.”

  “It's hot in the kitchen. Want to sit outside while the soup simmers?” Gracie asked.

  “I would like that,” Melinda said, wiping her damp forehead with her apron.

  “Let's go try the swing hanging on that old tree. I haven't had a chance to sit in it since we came,” Gracie said.

  The three of them squeezed together on the swing.

  “Not bad here in the shade,” Gracie said.

  “Not bad at all,” Melinda agreed. “I can see why you like it in the country. It's cool in the shade of this tree. Listen, Gracie. You can hear the wind whispering through the tree leaves like someone singing to us.”

  “You sound like this is all new to you. I thought you had some growing up time on a farm when you were a kid?” Gracie asked.

  “I did when I was small. My mother died when I was two years old. My Uncle Jack and Aunt Lizzy took me in. Uncle Jack let me gather eggs and help him milk. I got along fine with that nice old couple until I had to leave.”

  “Why didn't they finish raising you?”

  “I got older and could take care of myself. My father came and took me home. I sure did miss being with my aunt and uncle. Not so much because I missed the farm, but I missed them. They had become my family,” Melinda said as she looked off in the distance, reflecting about how it was during her childhood.

  The next morning, Sheriff Lang rode in. The sheriff dismounted and came to the base of the porch steps. He pushed the brim of his cowboy hat off his forehead and peered up at Gracie. “I'm fixing to go over to the Graves place and talk to the Mrs. You want to go along. She might be more apt to talk with you there.”

  Gracie looked at him doubtfully. “Sure, I'll go if it will help that family, but Lettie might not be so happy to see me now that Neff is in jail because of us. Can Melinda and the girl go, too?”

  “That's all right with me. I'll hitch the buggy up for you,” Logan offered.

  When they arrived at the Graves farm, the sheriff knocked on the door. Lettie peered through the screen at him. The sheriff said, “I have to talk to you some more, Mrs. Graves.”

  “Come on in,” she uttered, holding the door open.

  He said, “I brought Gracie Evans and Melinda Applegate with me.”

  “That's fine,” Lettie grumbled.

  The children filed in and stood behind Lettie when she sat down on a wobbly, ladder back chair in the parlor. She pointed to the other chairs in the room. “Please, all of you sit down.”

  “Shana is going to hunt up May Jean,” Melinda offered.

  “That's fine,” Lettie replied in a reserved tone. “Now what do you want, Sheriff?”

  “I just don't have it quite right in my mind about some of the things that Miss Gracie has told me. Did you know about the new grave over in Miss Gracie's cemetery?”

  “Yes, Miss Gracie told me about some digging is all,” Lettie said gripping her hands tightly in her lap.

  “Now Miss Gracie thinks the woman she and Miss Melinda saw in the cemetery one night was you. Was it?” The sheriff asked.

  “Might have been I was there once,” Lettie confessed in a wavering voice.

  The sheriff's head went up. “Why were you there?”

  “I just wanted to see where my baby was laid to rest is all,” Lettie whined.

  “So you did have a baby?” Rushed out of Melinda's mouth.

  “Yes, about two months ago,” Lettie answered.

  “How did that baby die?” The sheriff asked.

  “I never wanted to tell. It's so terrible,” Lettie said with tears flowing down her face.

  “Neff cain't harm you no more. You might as well clear this mess up for us,” Gracie declared. “If you're afraid of what people will think and say. Don't be. Everyone will be on your side, and Neff needs to be put away.

  “Oh, Miss Gracie, I learned to ignore all the talk a long time ago just like when I'm listening to the dogs around here, barking when they have something treed. It's just I've been so scared for me and my younguns since that terrible night. Neff came home drunk and like always in a fighting mood. I've taken to hiding upstairs with the younguns out of his way. He was usually too drunk to climb the steps.

  One night, I forgot the baby was still downstairs. Neff's yelling woke him up. The baby cried and made Neff mad. He screamed at the baby to shut up. That wasn't going to happen until I fed the baby, and I was afraid to come downstairs.

  I don't know what happened, but the baby got still. Next thing I know the back door slammed. After that, I heard the sound of a saw grating on wood and some hammering. I figured Neff was making a coffin for the baby. The next morning, the baby wasn't in his cradle. I really didn't think he would be, but my heart was sore at the thought of what happened to that little baby.

  Neff woke up in that chair on the front porch. He came to breakfast without a word about the baby. I was afeard to ask him what happened, and where he buried the baby. I just put the cradle and baby clothes away like the poor little one never existed.”

  “Did Neff know Miss Gracie knew about the grave?” The sheriff asked.

  Lettie nodded. “Yes, he did. I told him Miss Gracie ask me to tell him to be on the watch for someone messing around in her cemetery. I never did let on like I knew what had happened to the baby. I just wanted to warn Neff he might be in trouble with Miss Gracie. I did like knowing where the baby was, and that Neff had buried him proper.”

  “When you dug the baby up where did you end up burying the coffin?” The sheriff asked.

  “I didn't dig the coffin up.” Lettie looked horrified. “I hoped Miss Gracie would let the poor little thing stay right there even though we hadn't asked to use her cemetery.”

  “So Neff dug the baby up?” Gracie asked.

  “He must have,” Lettie said. “But I didn't know it and have no idea where he would have put the baby.”

  “That's all for right now, Mrs. Graves. We're going to hunt for the baby's grave. We think it might be in Gracie's timber,” the sheriff said.

  “If you find it would you let me know where it is? I'd like to be able to put flowers on the grave,” Lettie said.

  “Yes, ma'am, we'll tell you where we find it, but we have to dig the baby up again I'm afraid to say,” the sheriff said.

  “Oh, Sheriff, must you?” Melinda asked reproa
chfully.

  “Afraid so. We have to take the body to the undertaker in Locked Rock. I need to see if he can figure out what killed the baby. What the undertaker finds will be proof that the baby was killed. I'd be charging Neff with murder then,” the sheriff explained.

  When Sheriff Logan was back outside, he said, “I'm going to get a search party to take a look through your timber, if you don't mind, Miss Gracie?”

  “I don't mind atall. In fact, we would all like to go with you,” Gracie said.

  “No need for you ladies to go to that bother,” the sheriff said.

  “Yip, I think there is. Shana and I saw a spot that looked like a grave when we were mushroom hunting. That didn't belong to the same baby, because he was resting in my cemetery at the time. Though I wondered if the graves might have a connection. If we can find that grave again right off, you might not have to search the area for so long,” Gracie said.

  “If you say so, Miss Gracie. I'd be glad to take a look at that place, too,” the sheriff said, giving in.

  The search party of neighborhood men, Big Joe Wheeler, Junior Singleton, Millard Sokal and Orie Lang, walked with the sheriff across the pasture, passed the pond and entered the timber. The women and Shana stayed behind them.

  The sheriff said, “Spread out. Yell if you see anything unusual.”

  “Exactly what would be unusual?” One of the farmers asked.

  “A small spot where the dirt has been dug and looks fresh,” Sheriff Logan answered.

  Gracie said, “The dirt might have wild flowers planted in it. They might be wilted now if they didn't take root. I'm going to head where we mushroom hunted and look around.”

  “Shana and I are with you, Gracie,” Melinda said.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gracie led the way through the trees. She stopped when she reached the spot where she found the mushrooms. After looking around for a few minutes, she shook her head negatively. “Shana, I thought it was close to here where we saw the wild flower bed.”

  “Sure and I thought this was where we be, too,” Shana agreed.

  “Wait here, Sheriff. I'm going back to my thinking tree and stand for a minute. This is like an itch, trying to remember what I have forgotten. My mind is going to keep itching until I remember,” Gracie said.