Chantry backed away from the window and went home. He’d seen enough.
Rainey was standing out on the back steps when he came around the corner, and Chantry came to an abrupt halt. His stomach dropped.
“Where the hell you been, boy? Out screwin’ that li’l colored gal again?”
He hated it when Rainey said things like that. It always made his mouth go flat and his muscles tighten up with the effort to keep from hitting him. He just stood there without saying anything, waiting to see what Rainey intended to do.
Rainey flipped his lit cigarette into the dirt and came down the three steps into the yard between the house and the garage. Light from the kitchen made a bright patch that stretched nearly to the dog pen.
“Answer me, dammit. Where the hell you been?”
“It’s hot. I came outside to get cool.”
“Yeah, I just bet you did.” Rainey grabbed him by the hair and dragged him into the light. It felt like he was going to pull it out by the roots, and Chantry put up an arm to knock his hand away.
That was a mistake.
Rainey let out a roar like an enraged bull and backhanded him across the face, sending him up hard against the side of the garage. Chantry grabbed hold of the wire dog pen to keep from going down while Rainey hollered that no snot-nosed little bastard was going to get away with raising a hand to him.
“My own boys never did it, an’ I damn sure ain’t gonna let you.” His hands went to his belt buckle, and Chantry thought about taking off. But there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run that he wouldn’t have to come back sooner or later, and it sure wouldn’t make Rainey any more sweet-tempered.
When Rainey reached out to grab him by the arm, his belt doubled over and drawn back in his other hand, two things happened at once: Mama came out the back door and Shadow cleared the top of the pen, teeth bared and snarling.
Seventy pounds of pissed-off Catahoula was enough to scare the bejesus out of Rainey. He let out a yelp and took three steps backward, close enough that Mama jerked the belt from his hand.
“Stop that this instant, Rainey Lassiter. Chantry, control your dog.”
Rainey rounded on her, eyes going thin. “His dog? That ain’t his dog. That’s my dog. I own him, and I ain’t gonna tolerate no vicious dog ‘round here, by God.”
“There will be a better time to discuss the semantics involved in rearing dogs and children. Brute force is unacceptable at any time. Is that understood?”
Mama sounded so cool and calm, but there was a tight look around her eyes and mouth that betrayed her anger. Even Rainey must have seen it. He might be stupid enough to argue with Mama about a lot of stuff, but he was smart enough to know when he’d crossed the line. That line was always there when it came to Chantry and Mikey.
If Chantry hadn’t been so scared Rainey would do something with Shadow, he might have been glad to see Mama back Rainey down. But all he could think was that it was dangerous to get him pissed off when it came to the dog.
He had a tight hold on Shadow’s collar, but the dog was still all tense and staring hard at Rainey like he wanted to get at him, lips curled back from his teeth so they shone white in the light coming from the kitchen. He’d stopped growling, but he hadn’t stopped watching. Angry fur stood up stiff and straight along his spine, too.
“Put up the dog, Chantry,” Mama said, “and go back to bed. We have to get up early for church in the morning.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said even though he had no intention of going off to church and leaving Rainey here alone with Shadow. Besides, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to look at Reverend Hale again without remembering him buck naked and stuffing the choir director.
CHAPTER 12
Mama didn’t make him go to church with her and Mikey the next morning, but she gave him a worried look like she thought leaving him alone with Rainey was a really bad idea. She didn’t need to worry though, because Rainey slept clear through to the afternoon when she had Sunday dinner ready and on the table.
It wasn’t the happy family hour some families might have after church. Chantry had often thought of Cinda sitting at the big oak table in their pretty kitchen with her parents, and figured it was probably a lot closer to the happy TV commercials than most anyone he knew.
Rainey sat in sullen silence, looking hung-over. He didn’t even say anything about it being his favorite meal of chicken fried steak, just ate seconds of everything and got up from the table. He left, going off in his truck without saying where.
Mama didn’t seem all that upset about it. She did look at Chantry though and asked him where he’d been last night.
“Nowhere. It was hot and I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t leave our road, I swear to God.”
“Do not swear, Chantry. I believe you.”
He sat across the table from Mikey and stared at his plate a minute, then said, “Why’d you marry him?”
Mama didn’t pretend she misunderstood. She just said, “I had my reasons. They seemed valid at the time.”
“Then why do you stay with him? You don’t have to. We could leave. Leave this house and leave Cane Creek. Go somewhere else. Somewhere—safe.”
Silence fell. Mikey kicked at the rung of his chair with his thick shoes and looked upset.
“Not now, Chantry,” Mama said, and he clamped his mouth shut. Sometimes he just didn’t understand Mama. She was so much better than Rainey, so much nicer than most anybody in Cane Creek, even. He’d heard people say how nice she was, how she had dignity and grace, but he didn’t know how much good it did her when she had to live in the hell Rainey created.
The next day when he went to work he took Shadow with him. He didn’t tell Doc why, just put him in the exercise area out back of the long metal building to let him run around. Doc never said anything. He wondered what he’d say if he took to bringing the dog with him every day until it’d be safe to bring up the subject with Rainey of paying for him. Maybe after a couple of days Rainey’d cool down enough to listen.
Trials were next week, and he still didn’t have a ride. He thought about asking Dempsey to take him, worried if he’d be able to do it. If nothing else, he’d even thought about asking Tansy to give him a ride to Clarksdale. He’d pay for her gas, and she might like going with him and watching the dogs work. Sometimes he saw her watching when he took Shadow out in the fields to run. Yeah, she might do it. He’d ask her tomorrow, if he could catch her before she left for work. She got home too late at night these days to wait up on her.
Tuesday morning he got to go back to sleep since Mama was taking Mikey for his regular checkup at the doctor’s. She hoped the doctor would say he could cut down on his medication now. He was getting bigger and stronger every day. Rainey was supposed to be gone with the truck all morning, and Chantry intended to wake up and be gone by the time he got back. Doc went out on calls and didn’t need him at the clinic until lunchtime.
When he woke up, the clock on the dresser across the room said ten-sixteen. He couldn’t believe he’d slept that late. It was an unfamiliar luxury. He lay there in the bed looking up at the ceiling and listening to the silence. No TV. No Rainey. Only the whirr of the box fan.
After a couple of minutes, he got up and dressed, then went out into the kitchen. Rainey sat at the table. Chantry stopped short in the doorway, looking at him. He had a cup of coffee in one hand, his other hand folded over something on the table. He looked back at Chantry over the rim of his cup. There was something sly and malicious about the way he watched him.
A cold chill went down Chantry’s back and he moved to the edge of the table. “Thought you had something to do this morning.”
“Already did it.”
He didn’t know how he knew, but it hit him like a two by four between the eyes. Still, he had to see for himself, and walked to the back door and looked out toward the dog pen. It was empty, the gate left open.
“What’d you do, Rainey?” He spun around. “What the hell did you do?”
&nbs
p; “Got rid of that damn dog, that’s what. Told you I would.”
“Goddam you, Rainey Lassiter.” He said it so low he thought Rainey hadn’t heard him but he had, because he turned around in his chair to look at him real careful-like. Chantry took a step forward and saw Rainey tense. “What did you do with him? What did you do with my dog?”
Nausea rose up thick in his throat, and he just knew if Rainey said he’d sold him for bait he’d have to kill him. He’d never seriously thought about killing anyone before, but now he felt it so strong it was hard to keep his hands to himself.
“Ain’t yore dog,” Rainey said, watching him close. “I had the papers on him. Sold him.”
Chantry sucked in a deep breath. “To who?”
“That’s for me to know.”
“We had a deal, you sorry sonuvabitch. Did you get anywhere close to two thousand for him? Huh?”
“Damn dog ain’t worth near that and you know it. Won’t never be.”
“Get him back.”
Rainey laughed, a mean sound. “Hell no.” He lifted his hand and Chantry saw the wad of hundred dollar bills on the table. “Got six hundred for that mangy mutt.”
Six hundred dollars. He’d sold him for six hundred dollars while Chantry had worked for a year to come up with the two thousand he’d recklessly said Shadow would be worth. He’d hung himself on his own lie.
“I’ll give you two thousand for him,” he said, and Rainey laughed again, this time with real amusement glittering in his eyes.
“Where you think you’ll come up with that kind of money, boy? Besides. I done sold him. He’s gone and I got Ledbetter’s money so don’t be thinkin’ you can do anything about it.”
Dale Ledbetter. Chantry’s mind raced. He’d give him back his money and make a new deal for Shadow. Ledbetter was a businessman. He’d see the sense in a quick profit for a dog that hadn’t ever been in a trial.
He turned his back on Rainey and went outside to the dog pen. The money was where he’d left it, eighteen hundred and fifty dollars stuffed inside a blue tin box with Hershey’s Kisses painted on the outside of it. He took it out and shoved it in his pocket, and when he came out of the pen Rainey stood at the open gate.
“You conniving little shit. Where the hell did you get that wad of money?”
“Not sitting on my ass like you. I earned it.”
“You got a smart mouth on you, boy. Always have. Well, yore mama ain’t here to take up for you right now. Hand over that money and I won’t beat the shit outa you.”
“Don’t even try or I’ll kill you.”
He couldn’t believe he’d said it, but he had and he meant it. If Rainey so much as lifted a hand to him he’d do his best to take him apart. Right now he felt like he could beat him down without even working up a sweat. Hot rage simmered, made his heart hammer so loud he could barely hear Rainey over it.
“You been askin’ for this, boy.”
When Rainey drew back his fist, Chantry hit him first, a hard pop to the nose that snapped his head back and sent blood gushing. He felt it splatter on his tee shirt but he didn’t pause. He hit him again, two quick blows to the face, the last on his jaw. Rainey went down without a sound. It was a shock.
Chantry stood looking at him a minute, surprised and oddly disappointed. He’d wanted him to fight back, had wanted to keep hitting him until the anger eased. This had been too easy. Who’d have thought ole Rainey would have a glass jaw?
Bending down, Chantry dug in Rainey’s pocket and took out his truck keys. While he didn’t have a driver’s license, Dempsey had taught him to drive most anything. The old Dodge wouldn’t be a problem.
When he got to Dale Ledbetter’s farm, he saw his truck pulled up in front of a long line of kennels. Each kennel had a fenced in run, the dog houses those big plastic domes that looked like a turtle’s back. He got out of Rainey’s truck and crossed to where Ledbetter stood talking to Mr. Crenshaw and another man. Ledbetter turned around when Crenshaw said something to him, watching Chantry approach.
“Mr. Ledbetter,” he said before anyone could speak, “there’s been a mistake made. You just bought a dog that wasn’t for sale.”
“That right?” Mr. Ledbetter’s eyes narrowed slightly. “How do you figure that?”
He’d thought about what he wanted to say all the way out here, but now he couldn’t remember a single word of what he’d intended to be a rational explanation. Something got all in the way, a tight feeling like desperation.
“That’s my dog. He’s been mine since I pulled him out of his mama. Rainey just had the papers on him. I know you and Rainey made a deal. I’ll give you back your money, all of it, and pay however much more you think’s fair. I just want the dog back.”
Mr. Ledbetter looked at him like he was thinking about it, studying him so long Chantry thought he wasn’t going to answer at all. Then he said, “How’d you get that blood on you, son?”
Rainey’s blood. Chantry didn’t answer.
After a minute, Mr. Ledbetter turned to the two men standing there and asked them to wait on him up at the house. They left, and Chantry stood there with a year’s worth of money heavy in his pocket and his eyes on Ledbetter.
“Son,” he began in a tone that Chantry didn’t want to hear, “I like that dog. He’s got great potential. His bloodline is good but not the best. Still, he’s got something that might take him to the top of his game. It needs the right kind of work to get him there.”
“He’s doing fine as it is.”
“Yes, he’s doing fine. But he can do great. He can be the best. If I sell you back this dog, how long do you think it’ll be before Rainey Lassiter sells him again? You and I both know that’s likely to happen.”
Something cold and tight knotted up his stomach. He shook his head. “No. Not if I have the papers.”
Ledbetter smiled. “Son, he never even thought of giving me the papers until I asked for them. Next time he needs money, that dog’ll be gone and you know it. You won’t be able to stop him.”
It was true and he didn’t have an argument against it. Something hot and wet burned the back of his eyes so that he had to blink and look away. He could hardly breathe for the tightness in his chest, like a vise squeezing him so hard his ribs should have snapped. Minutes went past. Ledbetter cleared his throat.
“Look, son, I can see you love that dog. You want what’s right for him, don’t you? I’ve got two thousand acres here for him to hunt, plenty of time to train him. He’ll be the best. I can always pick a winner. If I let you take him back home with you, even if Rainey didn’t sell him he’d be cooped up in that dirt pen all day. That’s no life for a dog like this. Hell, for any dog. And you can come by and see him whenever you want.”
“No.” He didn’t know how he got that word out, but it broke the dam so that he could say what had to be said. “Just . . . let me tell him goodbye.”
Ledbetter nodded. He looked at him for a moment like he wanted to say something else, then just took him to one of the kennels. Shadow lay on a thick rubber mat outside the dog house. Some kind of spray stuff that smelled like insecticide squirted out of a plastic box attached to the top of the wire fence. On another wall, a stainless steel bucket held water that circulated from a tank to keep it fresh and cool. It all looked clean and expensive.
Shadow leaped up when he saw Chantry, and ran in a tight circle, eyes gleaming up at him like he wanted to play. He went inside the gate, heard Ledbetter close it behind him and leave. Then he knelt down and Shadow came to put his head on his shoulder. He sat there for what seemed like only a second, stroking Shadow without saying much, just being with him. He hurt so bad inside, it was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life.
When he heard Ledbetter coming back he pressed his face against the dog’s soft coat and said, “I love you enough.” It was the same thing Mama always said when she had to do something difficult, something she didn’t want to do but knew had to be done to make things right. She’d said it t
o Mikey right before his surgery. Now he said it to Shadow.
He didn’t look back even when Shadow started barking, just nodded at Mr. Ledbetter and crossed the driveway to get in Rainey’s old truck.
It was a good fifteen miles back to Sugarditch from the Ledbetter place. Chantry didn’t see much, just drove without paying attention to anything but keeping the truck in the right lane. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but now he couldn’t stop. He didn’t cry out loud, just couldn’t get the tears to stop running down his face. He felt like a fool.
Maybe it was because his eyes were so wet he couldn’t see too well, but when he finally noticed the flashing lights behind him, the police cruiser had his siren on, too. He glanced down at the speedometer, but he wasn’t speeding. Damn. He had no license. There’d be trouble if he got a ticket. He started to slow down and pull over to the side of the road.
Then he thought, What the hell do I care? How much more trouble can there be?
It was crazy and reckless and stupid, but all of a sudden he just didn’t care. He lowered his foot on the accelerator and the old truck jumped forward. He picked up speed going down a hill and hit the bottom doing nearly eighty. He’d never thought Rainey’s old truck would do much over fifty, but now the motor whined into gear and took off. It gave him a rush that overrode any caution. When he looked in the rearview mirror again, there were two county police cars behind him, lights flashing and sirens screaming. He floored it.
Those old country roads wound up and down through the delta like a cottonmouth snake, dark gray and slithering across land that was mostly flat except for near the river bottoms. Kudzu blanketed trees, light poles, and electric wires. He zigzagged down the roads and around men on slow-moving farm machinery, taking chances he would never have taken any other time. It didn’t matter. Nothing much mattered right now. Then he zigged when he should have zagged and the truck plowed into a bank of kudzu. Steam rose from under the hood, and he had the wind knocked out of him.
Dark River Road Page 17