Dark River Road

by Virginia Brown

  “Here’s to the night, Chantry Callahan.”

  He drank it slowly, listening to Meat Loaf on the radio and to her telling him about the trip she was going on in a few weeks with her parents.

  “Have you ever been to Colorado?” she asked, and rubbed the beer over her chest like she was hot. He’d leaned back against the car window to face her, and shook his head.

  “Nope.”

  “You don’t talk much, do you?”

  He shrugged. “Not a whole lot to say, I guess.”

  She smiled. “So you’re more into action than talk.”

  He didn’t answer, just watched her over the lip of his beer. She put out her hand and slid it up his leg until her fingers touched the zipper of his Levi’s. His body’s reaction was instant. She smiled wider now, and moved her hand over him until he was afraid he’d explode. After a couple of minutes, she took her hand away.

  “Let’s sit in the back. It’s got more room.”

  He didn’t have to be asked twice. His experience with kissing was limited to Tansy and to Cinda, but he apparently did okay because Cathy got all into it. She stuck her tongue in his mouth and ran her hands over him, up under his tee shirt. The next thing he knew, he had his shirt off and her shirt off, and she had just her bra and shorts on. He could hardly catch his breath. Even with the air conditioning on he was so hot it felt like he was in an oven. Then she took off her bra.

  After that, everything was a haze. She was soft and hot and hungry, and if she could tell he’d never done this before, she didn’t say anything. He just knew he’d never felt anything so good in all his life, even if the back seat was uncomfortable and cramped. It didn’t even matter that he didn’t have any rubbers because she’d brought three, and they used them all.

  By the time they came up for air, there were two other cars on the point, parked far enough away for privacy. He reached over the front seat and snagged them both another beer. It was almost warm, but he didn’t care, it still tasted cool enough.

  Cathy flung one leg over him, and in the glow of the dashboard lights, he saw her smile. “I knew it’d be like that,” she said.

  He hadn’t, but he wasn’t about to let her know it’d been his first time.

  “So how about next Saturday night,” he said, and she laughed.

  “A whole week away? Hm. It must not have been very good.”

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her down over him so that her bare breasts pressed into his chest and said, “Tomorrow night then.”

  “That’s more like it.”

  They kissed some more, until if it wasn’t for the fact they were out of condoms he’d want to do it again. He resolved to buy a dozen before he saw her next time.

  It was really late when she dropped him off at the end of Liberty Road, and he walked home in the fitful moonlight more tired than he could ever remember being. It was all he could do to let himself into the silent house, and he held his breath and hoped Rainey either wasn’t home yet or passed out already. No one said anything, and he went into the bathroom to clean up and brush his teeth.

  When he came out, Mama stood in the hallway. He came to a quick stop.

  “You have been out so late I grew worried about you,” she said. “The Wreck Room closes at eleven and it is nearly two in the morning.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I should have called.”

  “Where were you?”

  He’d never been good at lying to Mama. He’d much rather tell the truth than get caught up in trying to remember lies, but he knew she’d never understand or approve if he said he’d been with a girl all this time. He had no desire to end up back in counseling with Reverend Hell.

  “Just went off with some friends and lost track of time. Sorry, Mama.”

  She looked at him for a moment, and he wondered if guilt was written across his face in big black letters. But she only nodded.

  “Call me next time so I will not think the worst, Chantry.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  For the next couple of weeks he spent as much free time as he could with Cathy. He’d never thought there were really girls like her except in movies and books. While he didn’t feel about her like he had about Cinda, he sure liked being with her. That’s why when she said they were leaving for Colorado on vacation the next day, he meant it when he said he’d miss her.

  She laughed. “No, you won’t. You’ll just miss the back seat of my mama’s car. You don’t fool me, Chantry Callahan. Don’t look so surprised. It’s not like we’re going steady or anything.”

  “I never met anyone like you,” he said, and meant that too.

  “No, and you probably won’t, either.” She slid him a sideways look from under her lashes, and he thought about how many girls used that trick. She smiled. “But don’t worry—I know a few girls who’ll be lining up to take my place while I’m gone. I gave you good references.”

  He thought she was just teasing, but his phone rang the next night and Sue Anne Hardy asked if he wanted to come to a party at her house. “No grown-ups,” she added.

  It was tempting. He thought about it, but ended up not going. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have fun or was upset that Cathy was gone, but he’d already been too distracted lately. He hadn’t taken Shadow out for training in days, and the trials were coming up pretty quick. He had to get back on track.

  For the next week he focused on work and training, and Dempsey took him out to a farm to try Shadow at cows. It was a trade. He’d help Dempsey weed flowerbeds in the park for a few hours of training for the dog. Dempsey would have done it anyway, but Chantry felt better if he repaid him with some help. It’d make up for the hours he lost.

  They took Dempsey’s old truck and Shadow sat up front between them. He’d grown a lot and weighed close to seventy pounds. He was still lean, but would muscle out with maturity. The dog panted in the heat, the only cool air coming in the open windows.

  “So how’s Tansy?” he asked, and Dempsey allowed that she was doing okay.

  “Been busy lately, what with that summer job over at the Hamburger Shack.”

  Chantry frowned. “She’s working there? Since when?”

  “Couple of weeks ago, I guess. Makes pretty decent money. Can’t work too many hours because of the labor laws, but then she goes out with her friends after. I leave so early in the mornings I don’t get to see her too often. Bought her that old car, y’know.”

  Chantry had seen it when Tansy had stopped to show it off, an old Camaro that needed a lot of body work but had a good engine. She hadn’t said a word to him about working at the shack. Probably because she knew he’d tell her it wasn’t the right place for her to be. A rough crowd hung out there. It was right on the county line, and kids from both counties showed up, the kind of kids he avoided. They smoked dope, drank too much, and got into fights all the time. Sometimes the sheriff and deputies from Tunica County just rounded up everyone and took them off to jail, but most of the time, the law pretty much left them alone as long as there were no complaints.

  “You let her work there?” he said finally, and Dempsey shook his head.

  “No. She’s gotten hardheaded. I can’t talk to her anymore. Ever since her mama died, it’s been rough on her, but lately . . . I don’t know, Chantry. It just seems like ever’thing I say to her is wrong.”

  “Yeah. I know how that feels.” Except for a few times, he and Tansy hadn’t seen each other much even after that night in February. He guessed she and Leon had patched up their fight because she was always gone. She’d come down to see Mikey when they’d gotten back from Jackson and brought him some candy and a toy truck, but hadn’t stayed long. It’d felt all strange again, and Rainey had been home so that’d made it worse. Now she was working at a place he wished she wasn’t, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

  When they reached the farm, Chantry let Shadow out of the truck on his lead while Dempsey talked to Mr. Freeman. He’d already put a few cows in a large fenced in lot, and nodded at
Chantry to see what the dog could do.

  Shadow looked at the huge animals with interest. He whined a little and strained at the leash until Chantry told him to heel. Usually, two or more dogs worked large stock, but this was a trial so he put Shadow in on his own. Most of the cows, big black Angus, ignored him, but a few more seasoned veterans eyed the dog warily.

  It went better than Chantry even hoped. Shadow went in slow and easy, focused in on the cows and got them bunched into a knot, moving back and forth until the cattle went through the gate at the far end of the pen just like he’d been doing it for years.

  He called him back and Shadow obeyed instantly, sitting on his haunches and looking up with a pleased canine grin and his clear eyes glittering in the sunlight. Like he knew he’d done well. Dempsey was impressed.

  “You done good with him, Chantry, by God, you’ve done real good.”

  He couldn’t stop grinning, but shook his head. “Wasn’t me that did anything. Shadow just knows what to do in spite of me.”

  A hand clapped onto his shoulder, and a genial voice said behind him, “That dog’s come a long way, boy. Damn if he hasn’t.”

  Dale Ledbetter had come up. He turned to lean a shoulder against the fence, eying Shadow. “What’s Lassiter’s price?”

  Chantry felt like he’d just been doused with cold water. He wanted to say Shadow wasn’t for sale, but knew if Rainey heard about it, there’d be trouble. So he just shrugged.

  “No price yet. Want to wait to see how he does in the trials.”

  “So he can up the price?” Mr. Ledbetter’s eyes narrowed slightly. “The dog might not do so well in competition.”

  “Might not,” Chantry agreed. He snapped on Shadow’s lead and hoped Mr. Ledbetter would drop the subject. It got him all tied up inside just talking about it.

  “Well,” Mr. Ledbetter said after a minute, “we’ll see what he does at the trials.”

  He talked like he intended to be there, and Chantry kept his head down so he wouldn’t let him know how bad that made him feel. Time was running out. He couldn’t waste another minute on anything but making sure he didn’t lose Shadow.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Dempsey asked once they were back in the truck and on the way home. “Ledbetter’s interested. Thought you wanted to sell that dog.”

  Chantry just looked out the window and didn’t say anything. A few minutes went past in a blur of cotton fields and cow pastures.

  “So it’s like that, is it.” Dempsey sighed. “I shoulda knowed better. It’s what I get for not paying attention, I guess. Too much on my mind lately. Looka here, Chantry, you know you ain’t got a hope in hell of keeping that dog once Rainey finds out Ledbetter’s willin’ to buy.”

  “I don’t intend for him to find that out until it’s too late.”

  “Too late? Boy, what you got on your mind?”

  “Giving Rainey two thousand dollars for him.”

  For a minute there was only the sound of the wind rushing past the old truck and blowing in the open windows, then Dempsey said, “You got a way to get that much money?”

  “Most of it’s already saved up. Just got to get the last six hundred dollars.”

  “If that don’t beat all—you’re somethin’, you know that?” Dempsey laughed suddenly, and beat his hand on the battered dash of the truck so hard he spooked the dog into barking. “You are somethin’ else, Chantry Callahan, damned if you ain’t.”

  He didn’t feel like he was something else. He felt scared.

  CHAPTER 11

  After work the next day he walked over to the park to help Dempsey with the weeding like he’d promised. It was a scorcher of a day. Heat shimmered up from asphalt and the concrete sidewalks, and even the ducks and geese looked wilted floating out in the lake. It was so hot there wasn’t anyone else out, just Dempsey with a weed eater and mower, baking in the sun.

  A bank of bright pink vincas pushed up from the flowerbed that bordered a small area with a sundial and birdbath. Weeds thrived in the fertile ground. Chantry had a bucket and trowel, and set to work pulling up clumps of crabgrass and dandelions that had sprouted in the vincas. Usually he didn’t mind it. He always used the time to figure out new ways to train Shadow or make more money, but today he kept thinking about Ledbetter, and what he’d do if Rainey found out he’d even asked about the dog.

  Rainey never thought beyond what he wanted now. It was a miracle he’d been able to get him not to do anything this long with the dog, but time was running out faster than he could make the last bit of money. He had a good check coming from Doc this week, extra money for going with him on a few calls, but it still left him two hundred and fifty dollars short. He usually gave Mama half his money, but if he kept all, he’d have almost enough. If it came down to it, he could risk offering Rainey what he had with a promise of more. But seventeen-fifty didn’t sound like nearly as much money as the two thousand dollars, and that’s what Rainey would hear. Maybe he should take a chance anyway. It wasn’t likely that Ledbetter would offer even near that much money for an unproven pup.

  “Doin’ a good job, Chantry,” Dempsey said, coming over to stand beside him. He held out a Mason jar of ice water.

  Chantry looked at the pile of weeds in his bucket. He’d done more than he thought. A few bright pink blossoms were in with the dandelions, though, and he frowned.

  “Looks more like I’ve been picking flowers than weeds.”

  Dempsey sat down on the grass where a tree shaded part of the ground, and wiped his face with a towel. He looked over at the bucket. “It happens. Weeds like to grow where the best land is, just like people. Weedin’ time, some flowers get pulled up along with the weeds. A flower has to be either dumb or brave to grow right where there’s a patch of weeds.”

  Chantry looked at him. Maybe he had a point in that somewhere. Or maybe the heat had got to him. He took a swig of the ice water. It was still cool enough it had small chunks of ice, but not many. It felt good going down his dry throat.

  Stretched out with his legs crossed at the ankles, Dempsey stared across the park toward the lake. He seemed to be thinking pretty deep, and Chantry just let the silence lay. He pulled a few more weeds, and a leggy vinca came up along with a thick-rooted dandelion. He stuck the flower back in the dirt, pressed the roots down and poured a little water on top.

  When he looked up, he saw Dempsey watching him. He nodded. “Can’t save ’em all, but do what you can. Don’t let the weeds crowd out all the good ones. Just like people.”

  Chantry frowned. Dempsey usually didn’t get too philosophical, especially about a few flowers. He must have something else on his mind.

  After a moment, Dempsey said, “Julia named Tansy. I wanted to call her Anna after my mother, but she’d put the name on the birth certificate by the time I knew it. The most beautiful baby I ever saw in my life. And Julia named her after a bitter weed.”

  Chantry sat back. He didn’t say anything for a minute; then he said, “Mama said tansy is a herb.”

  “Depends on the gardener. My eyes saw a flower. Julia saw a weed. Sometimes I don’t know what Tansy sees when she looks in the mirror.” He looked down at his hands, spread them wide. “All my life, I worked just to keep body and soul together, to put a little by for rainy days. Some years there was more rain than sun, but we always made it. After Julia died, me and Tansy didn’t have as much time together as before. Had to be mama and daddy both. Hard enough to be one. Now I think maybe I haven’t been either. Does she ever talk to you, Chantry?”

  He had to say no. “Not anymore. Not like we used to. Things are—different.”

  Dempsey nodded. “I know. I hear things. See things. Just don’t know what to do about it, that’s all.”

  He felt pretty much the same way. It wasn’t very comforting to know even Dempsey had the same problem. He didn’t like the way it made him feel, so he picked up the Mason jar and held it to his nose.

  “Just checking to see if you been drinking something bes
ides just water,” he said, and Dempsey tossed one of the pulled weeds at him.

  “Smart ass.”

  “You know what they say, better to be a smart ass than a dumb ass.”

  “Then you got both bases covered pretty good. Come on. Help an old man up and we’ll get this done for the day.” When he stood up again, he pulled a cap on top of his head to shade his eyes. “If you feel like earnin’ some extra money, I got to go out to Six Oaks tomorrow. Make a hundred bucks if you can work all day.”

  Chantry thought about it. Mama got home at noon from summer school so he’d been going in early to the vet clinic. Tomorrow was Saturday. He’d have all day if it was okay with Doc that he took off. An extra hundred dollars would leave him only one-fifty to come up with.

  “I’ll let you know tonight. Gotta talk to Doc.”

  It was okay with Doc, as he’d figured it would be. He was pretty flexible, and never got too uptight about things. Besides, Doc knew he could count on Chantry to be there when he really needed him.

  Dempsey picked him up at the end of the drive at six the next morning. A cool breeze blew high weeds and the bushes around the Albertson’s old house. It was still empty, settling into the edge of the soybean field like a cat getting comfortable.

  Sometimes he thought he heard old ghosts in the house. Voices. Laughter. But nobody ever went there that he saw, so he figured it was just his imagination running wild like it did when he lay in bed at night staring up at the ceiling and listening to Mikey breathe.

  Mikey got stronger every day. Color came back slowly but steadily, so that he didn’t look bloodless and ghostly anymore. He still had to wear his braces, of course, but Mama said one crisis at a time was plenty and they’d get through it. She seemed better these days, not as pale and resigned. Fixing the hole in Mikey’s heart had fixed something in Mama, too.