Secret of the Satilfa

by Ted M. Dunagan

  Although sleep was almost upon me, just before I succumbed to it I heard Frank respond with a whispered riddle: “It’s wet but it’s dry, it’s deep but it’s nearby.”

  Chapter Six

  Held Captive

  A thick morning mist hung over the creek and rays of pale light were beginning to sift through the tree branches from the east when I first roused up. I could hear the water moving under the blanket of fog and the croaking of a frog from his perch on a wet rock somewhere out in the creek. I was in that state between sleep and wakefulness. It was that in between place where things seemed real, but you couldn’t touch them or move them, only be aware of them.

  It was a soothing place to be if you were warm and comfortable in your own feather bed, a place where you wanted to linger as long as you could. But if you were cold, stiff, and not quite sure where you were it faded rapidly.

  A rustling sound off in the woods brought me fully awake. I sat up and started to raise my hands to rub my eyes, but something was holding them down.

  “Hey, boy, what you trying to do, pull my toe off?”

  It all came flooding back, the memory of last night and the predicament Poudlum and I were in. That’s when I saw the flash of silver slashing through the early morning light. It was Jesse’s knife as he cut the cord connecting my thumbs to his big toe.

  “There you go, boy, you loose now.”

  His voice was low and gravelly, a morning voice, but it didn’t stay that way. When he looked across the bed of ashes that had been the fire and saw Frank asleep alone he got up, rushed over and began shaking his partner. “Wake up!” he shouted.

  Frank sat up like a jack-in-the-box. “What? What is it?” he said as he scrambled around looking for danger.

  “Poudlum’s gone! How did he get away?”

  “I-I-I don’t know!” Frank stuttered. “I didn’t feel nothing during the night!”

  “How long you think he’s been gone?”

  “I don’t know that either. Long enough, I ’spect.”

  “He could’ve been gone all night and be bringing the law in here right now,” Jesse moaned as he turned and gazed off in all directions as if he expected a posse to come charging in at any moment.

  Frank was staring at the frayed end of the cord leading from his big toe. “Looks like he chewed through it like some kind of rat or something.”

  They both turned their attention toward me. “Where you think he went off to?” Jesse barked.

  I remembered the rustling sound I had heard when I still wasn’t quite awake. “I figure he woke up cold and just went to get us some more firewood,” I said.

  “Dat’s exactly where I been,” Poudlum called out from the tree line where he stood with an armload of wood.

  Frank scrambled up off the ground like it was on fire, and Jesse spun around toward the direction of Poudlum’s voice with his hands and arms held out in front of him like he needed to protect himself from something.

  When he saw Poudlum, he said, “Good Lord, boy, you just about scared the wits out of me. How long you been up?”

  “Just long enough to rustle up dis wood and a few lighter knots.”

  “How did you get loose?”

  “Bit dat cord in two.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “’Cause I was real cold and we needed some wood, but I didn’t want to wake none of y’all up,” Poudlum replied while he walked over and dropped his load of fuel next to the cold fire.

  “How come you didn’t run off?” Jesse asked.

  Poudlum knelt by the smoldering coals and placed two pine knots in the center of them and began stacking wood on top. When he finished he drug a wooden match out of his pocket and raked the head of it across one of the rocks surrounding the fire bed. After it flamed up he tossed it in the center. It caught and little flames began licking up toward the fresh fuel.

  “Well?” Jesse insisted. “How come?”

  I could tell the bank robbers were slightly stunned when they just stood there with their mouths open when Poudlum said, “’Cause I wouldn’t never run off and leave my friend here all by hisself in a pickle like we is in. No, sir, I wouldn’t never do dat.”

  I wasn’t sure what Jesse and Frank thought about what Poudlum had said, but it made me realize how fortunate I was to have a great friend like him. The fire was blazing up now and the heat from it warmed my body, but not as much as Poudlum’s words had warmed my heart.

  Jesse steeped up closer to the fire, held his hands out toward the flames, and said, “Whew, that fire feels good.”

  The shadows began to disappear as the early light of dawn chased them away. The fog, too; I could see the bank on the other side of the creek.

  “I shore is hungry,” Poudlum said while he tossed more wood on the fire. “Anybody else?”

  “I’m so hungry I could eat a goat, hair, hide, horns and all,” Frank answered. “It’s a shame we went and ate up all that fish last night. Some of it shore would go good this morning.”

  Hunger pangs were stabbing away at me too, and I was just about to pull the store-bought stuff out of my sack when Poudlum said, “We might be able to have us some mo’ fried fish.”

  Almost salivating, Frank said, “How you gonna do that, boy? You gonna be Jesus and just reach in your sack and pull out some fried catfish filets?”

  I knew what Poudlum was talking about. It was the trot line. If we had fish on it, then we could have ourselves a hot breakfast.

  “Come on, Poudlum,” I said as I began removing my shoes and socks. “I’ll wade over and untie the other end and drag it across the shoals. You just hang onto this end and help me pull it in.

  “Y’all want to help us, Mister Jesse, Mister Frank?”

  “We’ll help,” Frank said, “You think you got any fish on that line?”

  “We might have. If we do, I need you to take ’em off the hook and knock ’em in the head so they won’t flop around and get back into the water.”

  I rolled up the legs of my britches and stuck my foot into the water. It was so cold it hurt. I jerked it back out real quick. Poudlum and Frank were standing there waiting on me so there was nothing to do except plunge into the icy water. I gritted my teeth and began splashing across the shoal, and with water sometimes up to my knees, I had forgotten about the cold by the time I got to the other side of the creek.

  I whipped out my pocketknife and cut the cord loose from where I had secured it late yesterday. With three loops of the cord wrapped around my wrist I began the journey back across the creek.

  About halfway there I began to notice the weight and pull of the cord as it cut into my wrist. I slowed down, searched for firmer footing and continued my trek back across the cold water. After several more steps the line got even heavier and I slipped on the slick surface beneath the water. I went down to my knees and the shock of the cold water up to my waist almost took my breath away.

  When I attempted to regain my footing I lost ground and slipped down to the very edge of the rocky shoal just before it dropped off into the deep, dark and cold water below.

  Poudlum saw my plight and shouted from the far shore, “Turn it loose! Let de line go!”

  I just couldn’t because I could tell there was a pile of fish on our trot line.

  Another slip and I was down on my belly in the cold water. My feet and legs were swept over first while I clung to the edge of the rocky ledge by my fingernails. Just before I was swept off into the deep water I felt two strong hands grab my shoulders.

  I looked up and saw Jesse. “I gotcha, boy, hold onto that line!”He drug me back to my feet on the shoal and helped me walk all the way back to our side of the bank. When we got there I was wet, cold and shivering, but I knew I was safe.

  Poudlum and Frank took the cord off my wrist and pulled the line up on the bank. I lay there shivering, along
with several big, fat, flopping catfish.

  “You need to get out of them wet clothes,” Jesse said. “You got any dry ones?”

  I had an extra pair of pants and a sweat shirt in my sack. I quickly shed my wet clothes by the fire and slipped into the dry ones.

  “Your lips done turned blue, boy,” Jesse said while he handed me my quilt. “Put this around you. You shivering like a dog trying to pass a peach seed.”

  For a moment I thought I detected real concern in his voice. The next thing he did was hang my wet clothes on some bushes to dry, and he placed our wet shoes and socks next to the fire to dry.

  While we were doing all this Poudlum and Frank had been cleaning the fish. They brought the filets over next to us stacked up all clean and wet on the big flat rock.

  Poudlum dug out the skillet along with the lard and cornmeal mixture after he had raked out a hot bed of coals to cook on. Frank took over from there and the fish were soon sizzling away, giving off an aroma that had us all moaning in anticipation.

  “Them fish sure do smell better swimming in hot grease than they do in cold water,” Frank said as he flipped the filets with my fork.

  “How many was on the line?” I asked in a weak, shaky voice.

  “Dey wuz six nice big ones,” Poudlum said. “Would’ve been seven, but de turtles got to one of ’em. Nothing left but his head, but from de size or it, de turtle got de biggest one.”

  Jesse was adding more wood to the fire when he leaned over and asked me, “You warm yet?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m warm on the outside and I’ll be warm on the inside soon as I eat me a piece of that fish.”

  “Won’t be long now,” Frank said as he gave the filets one last turn.

  “Instead of them fish being out here by the fire with us, you was almost in the water with them,” Jesse said as he reached over and tousled the hair on my head.

  Poudlum broke out a fresh brown paper bag and Frank forked our breakfast out of the skillet onto the bag to cool. After he had raked out a new batch of red-hot coals and started the second mess of fish frying, we each helped ourselves to a crunchy slab of the sweet meat.

  “What you think?” Frank said, obviously to Jesse.

  “Just about the best thing I ever put in my mouth,” Jesse replied.

  “It don’t get no better dan dis,” Poudlum said. “Tastes so good cause dey so fresh.”

  “Yeah, couldn’t get no fresher,” Frank said as he smacked his greasy lips.

  Poudlum and I kept up with the bank robbers. We both ate three filets, just like they did. “I’m so full I’m ’bout to pop,” Poudlum said as he stretched out beside the fire.

  We all just lounged around the fire for a while after we had devoured half the fish in the Satilfa. The last pretenses of night had faded away and the first warm rays of sunshine crested the tree tops, glinted off the sparkling water of the creek, and flooded over our campsite.

  Jesse and Frank got up and stepped into the edge of the woods to take care of their morning toiletries, leaving Poudlum and me a brief opportunity to communicate privately.

  “Poudlum,” I hissed. “You think we ought to just run for it?”

  “Naw,” he whispered back. “Dem grown mens could run us down ’fore we got to de road.”

  “You probably right. And if they didn’t catch us they could shoot us with that shotgun.”

  “Uh uh, I took care of dat big scattergun.”

  “What you talking about?”

  “I took de shells out of it dis morning while everybody wuz still asleep and chunked ’em in de creek.”

  “I betcha Jesse’s got more shells in his pocket.”

  “Won’t do him no good,” Poudlum grinned.

  “How come?”

  “’Cause I put a handful of sand in de breech of de shotgun ’fore I closed it back up.”

  “He’s gonna be mad when he finds that out.”

  “Better he be mad than us be shot.”

  “I reckon you right on that, Poudlum. What you think they gonna do with us?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think dey gon hurt us.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “’Cause I think dey likes us. I know Mister Jesse was real worried ’bout you slipping over de shoals into dat deep hole. Dey may be bank robbers, but I don’t think dey gots it in ’em to harm us.”

  “You remember that riddle Frank said about the money just before we went to sleep last night?”

  “I shore do,” Poudlum said. “I said it over and over in my head so I wouldn’t forget, ’cause dat’s how we gon find de money. We just gotta solve dat riddle.”

  “We need us some kind of a plan for right now though. We can’t just keep sitting around here on the creek bank eating catfish with two bank robbers.”

  “Well, I can’t think of no plan right now except to just play along. If we do dat, maybe we’ll get lucky somewhere along de way.”

  “Are you saying no plan is the best plan?”

  “Something like dat, I reckon.”

  “Shhh, here they come,” I cautioned.

  “What you boys talking about?” Jesse asked as he stepped back up next to the fire.

  Poudlum didn’t miss a beat. “We just discussing fish bait, Mister Jesse.”

  “Huh?”

  “Yes, sir, we trying to decide if dem fish gon go for some more sawyers, or if dey gon bite better if we use earthworms and grasshoppers.”

  “Don’t y’all never get tired of fishing?” Frank asked.

  “Dis is probably de last chance we gon get to fish till springtime next year. Real cold weather be here ’fore you know it, and we be making syrup and going to a hog killing, so we just be trying to get our fill of it, enough to last us till next year.”

  Jesse took his hat off, scratched his head and looked off into the distance, signed and said, “You know, boys, I sure do envy y’all for the joy you derive from being out here in the woods living off the land without a care in the world.” He continued, “I also admire your honesty, your innocence, and most of all your manners, you know, your respect and your politeness. Y’all can both tell your mommas they ought to be proud of you.”

  Poudlum and I had that look between us again, and I knew he was thinking like me, that Jesse wouldn’t have such kind words for us if he knew we had jimmied his shotgun and planned to escape at our first opportunity.

  But our feelings changed immediately as soon as we heard Jesse say, “In spite of all that, the present circumstances have forced us to make a decision. Here’s what we gonna do with you boys.”

  Chapter Seven

  Escape

  The bridge over the Satilfa Creek on Center Point Road was called the Iron Bridge. That was because the wooden one had been replaced by the current one in 1937, before World War Two began, and it had two steel beams that crossed the creek along with steel railings on each side.

  However, the bridge still consisted of mostly heavy lumber. Six-by-twelve pieces of hardwood lumber were bolted to the steel beams all the way across the stream.

  Other than the Cypress Hole, the big pool underneath the bridge was the best fishing hole on the creek, that is until you got all the way down to the mouth of the Satilfa where it emptied into the Tombigbee River. Now there was a place where giant catfish abounded! But that was too far from home for us to venture without a grown-up accompanying us.

  My daddy would go noodling at the mouth of the creek. That was when he would wade along where the edge of the banks projected out over the water and reach up under them and yank out big monster catfish with his hands.

  A lot of folks who fished under the Iron Bridge threw ropes up and looped them around the ends of the wooden beams and then tied the other end to their boat so they wouldn’t drift off downstream while they fished.

  Usually
, when they quit fishing they couldn’t get the ropes loose from the beams above so they would just cut them loose from their boats and leave; consequently, there was an assortment of ropes hanging over the water along each side of the bridge like curtains shielding some kind of mystery under it.

  That’s where the bank robbers intended to leave us. Frank was up on the bridge cutting loose two of the ropes, which he tossed down to the waiting hands of Jesse on the bank of the creek below the bridge.

  “Y’all get on up under the bridge,” Jesse ordered us while Frank scrambled back down toward us.

  “I hate leaving you boys here,” Jesse continued. “But y’all will be all right up under here. Being the resourceful young fellers you are, y’all will figure out something, but it’ll be after me and Frank are long gone.”

  Frank tied us up real tight with the rope he had cut loose while Jesse rummaged through our sacks of supplies.

  “I’m going to have to relieve you boys of these biscuits. Please convey our appreciation to your mommas. And some of these canned goods, too.”

  “Hey!” I exclaimed as he helped himself to our food. “I paid good money for that stuff at Miss Lena’s Store.”

  My eyes bugged out and Poudlum said, “Good Lawd Almighty,” when Jesse pulled a big wad of greenbacks out of his pocket and dropped them into my supply sack.

  “That’ll more than take care of it, boys,” he said with a grin.

  I was mightily distressed with what they did next. They each reached up and grasped the end of a dangling rope and secured it to the one our wrists were tied with.

  “We’re sorry to leave you boys like this,” Jesse said. “It’s just that we need a little time so we can put some distance between us and the sheriff.”

  “You don’t have to worry about us, Mister Jesse,” Poudlum said. “We don’t have no truck wid dat sheriff.”

  “I don’t doubt that, son,” Jesse said as he checked the knots on the ropes. “But they’ll make y’all tell the truth, and we wouldn’t want you to lie anyway. Ain’t that right, Frank?”