“Richard, shusss, I’m over here.”
It was John Clayton, who had just walked up and was standing there patting Sniffer.
I walked over and pointed up at the moon.
“Hey, take a look; I told you it was a full moon, and we wouldn’t need our headlights.”
“Yeah, I know, but I ain’t especially excited ’bout walkin’ all the way to O’Rear Crossin’ in the dark. Are you gonna put Sniffer in his pen?”
“Naw, he’ll howl like crazy if we walk off without him, and it’ll wake up my folks. And, anyway, it might not hurt to have a dog along…just in case.”
“Just in case of what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. What if we ran into something that we needed some help in handlin’?”
“Help?”
“Well, uh, oh, you know, but...”
“But what?”
“Oh, come on, John Clayton, we need to get on down the road, or we ain’t gonna make it to the railroad crossin’ by midnight.”
Well, we walked the three miles down the road until we could see the railroad crossing in the distance, and, gosh, that full moon made it almost as bright as day. Finally, we made it to the railroad tracks, and we stood there in the light of a full moon.
“Okay, Richard, it’s almost midnight, and I can tell you right now they ain’t a light nowhere near these tracks.”
John Clayton was right, and we stood there for a few minutes, looking up and down the tracks trying to see any sign of a light, but nothing―absolutely nothing.
“Dang you, Richard, you got me up at midnight to walk three miles and then to stand here like some Looney bird looking for a light. This is just about the dumbest thing we’ve ever done.”
I was just about to say, “Yeah, let’s go home,” when, “Dang, there’s a sorry cloud driftin’ over the moon.”
“Oh, my gosh, it’s pitch black,” whined John Clayton.
Then, just before I was gonna say, “Let’s head back home,” I looked in the El Dorado direction of the tracks, and I saw something.
“Look! Down toward El Dorado! Something, yes! It’s the light!”
“Yeah, and look. It’s getting’ brighter!”
We stood there for about five minutes, and the light seemed to move a little bit from side to side, but that was about it.
“Hey, let’s walk down closer and see if we can tell what it is, probably just a reflection from something.”
“I don’t know, Richard. What in the world could be makin’ that kind of a reflection with the moon behind some clouds? Let’s don’t go there.”
“Oh, come on, John Clayton, you know they ain’t no such a thing as a ghost. Heck, if we figure out what’s causin’ the light, everybody’ll think we’re kinda geniuses or something.”
“Okay, but I still don’t think this is a good idea.”
It was pretty dark, with the moon behind the clouds, and I was beginning to get a little shaky, you know, wondering what if it wasn’t a reflection. Well, we stumbled down the railroad tracks toward the light, and then I noticed Sniffer wasn’t with us.
“Sniffer! Sniffer! Here! Come here!”
Heck, Sniffer usually just runs up to me when I call him, but he didn’t this time. Finally, he made it up to my side, and he got so close I could barely walk. I could hear a kinda whimper-like growl, which I figured in dog talk was something like, “Watch out. I don’t like this.”
About that time I felt the hair on the back of my neck start to stand up, and I had the spookiest feeling. ’Course, I didn’t tell John Clayton because he was already whining like crazy, and one word from me and he’d chicken out. Well, the three of us walked real slowly down the tracks, heading for the light. Then all of a sudden, when we were almost to where it was shining, it disappeared.
“What? Where is it? Where’d it go?”
“Dang, Richard,” John Clayton said as he walked on up to where the light had been, “it was right here where I’m standin’ and now it’s gone. Oh, my gosh, look!”
I turned around, and for crying out loud, the light was now behind us about the same distance it was when we started walking toward it.
“Can you believe that? What’s goin’ on?” I said.
Well, we stood there a couple of minutes, trying to figure out what to do while Sniffer was going into a scared dog whine, and John Clayton was mumbling something about upsetting the ghosts.
“Ah, it’s just a reflection. When we’re behind whatever is reflectin’, it looks like it moved, but you know dang well it didn’t. You and Sniffer stay right here, and I’m gonna walk down the tracks to where the thing is now, and we’ll figure it out.”
“Wait a minute, Richard. I don’t want to stand here in the dark by myself. My arms are tinglin’ and Sniffer is shakin’ like a leaf. I don’t like this one little bit.”
“Shoot, you chicken. You’ve got Sniffer. I’m the one in the dark by myself.”
“Yeah, Sniffer, the cowardly dog, he sure ain’t gonna be much help.”
“Aw, quit whinin’. I’m only gonna be a little piece down the tracks.”
With that, I started walking, down the tracks, and John Clayton reached down and held Sniffer’s collar to make him stay. It didn’t take but a couple of minutes until I was almost to where the light was, and then, just as I was leaning forward to get a good look, it kinda flashed and disappeared, and I had the strangest feeling come over me.
“Dang, it disappeared.” But then there was the wildest screaming and howling you’ve ever heard from John Clayton and Sniffer. I turned around to see the light back at where John Clayton had been standing. Whoa, hold on to your horses, ’cause something really scary was happening. I couldn’t tell Sniffer’s howling from John Clayton’s screaming. Heck, I didn’t know what to do, but that little problem was solved real quickly because in about two seconds I heard Sniffer and John Clayton running down the railroad tracks to beat sixty and Sniffer was bawling that dog sound that meant “Help, I’m being killed!” and John Clayton was just one big “Eeeeeeeeeee!” like nothing I’ve ever heard. Well, old Sniffer passed me like a shot outta a cannon with his tail between his and legs, and John Clayton was right behind him.
“What is it?” I screamed.
“Run! Run! Run for your life!” John Clayton yelled as he passed me.
Well, a terrified hound and boy was sure enough for me to start running. Heck, I’m the fastest boy in my class, and I can sure outrun John Clayton, but I couldn’t catch him and Sniffer was plumb outta sight. Finally, John Clayton slowed down, and tried to say something, but he was so winded I could only understand “Bloody!” and then, “For god’s sake!...Don’t stop!”
Well, I don’t know how far we ran before John Clayton just gave totally out of breath, and he staggered over to the side of the road and bent over, trying to catch his wind.
“Richard―not gonna believe―oh my God―you’ll never believe it!”
“What? What happened?”
“Oh, my gosh, Richard, I’ve never been so scared in my life! First, something grabbed Sniffer by the throat, and that danged dog nearly went crazy. Then the light flashed, and it nearly blinded me for a second, then I saw it.”
“Saw what? What’d you see?”
“A finger.”
“You saw a danged finger, and it scared you?”
“Yeah, ’cause it was just one finger, and it was drippin’ blood.”
“Oh, my lord in heaven above, let’s get outta here!” I yelled.
Shoot, we took off down that road and made it back to my house in record time. When we ran up to the back steps at my house, Sniffer stuck his head out and gave us a scared, whiny dog howl.
“Dang, you Sniffer, you stinkin’ cowardly dog!” yelled John Clayton.
’Course, Sniffer didn’t pay no attention to John Clayton. He looked at me like, “If y’all what I saw, you’d a-run like I did.”
We talked about the light for days and told anybody who would listen that John
Clayton had seen a bloody finger―which, by the way, had expanded to a whole arm after a few days—and that Sniffer had been grabbed by something. Heck, not one person in town believed a word of what we said. Finally, I told John Clayton we should go over and tell Uncle Hugh about seeing the light.
He thought that was a great idea and soon we were in Uncle Hugh’s front yard yelling for him.
“Uncle Hugh! Uncle Hugh! It’s Richard and John Clayton.”
Uncle Hugh opened the door and motioned for us to come in. “Boys, it’s getting’ colder by the minute. Come on in here and sit by the fire, and I’ll fix y’all some hot chocolate.”
Well, you didn’t have to ask us but once to get in out of that cold north wind, and in a couple of minutes we was thawed out after standing in front of Uncle Hugh’s roaring fire sipping hot chocolate.
“Dang, that fire feels great,” I said.
’Course, me and John Clayton couldn’t wait to tell Uncle Hugh about seeing the light at O’Rear Crossing. John Clayton got to the part where he saw the finger, but now he’d added a whole arm and shoulder to the story.
“Wait a durn minute, Mr. Big Liar! You told me on the road right after you saw that thing you only saw a finger.”
“Well, heck, Richard, after I thought about it a few minutes, I remembered seein’ more of that ghost.”
“Liar! Liar! Liar! You didn’t see nothin’ but a finger!”
Well, John Clayton was about to go on and on as only John Clayton can do when Uncle Hugh said, “It was just a finger, wasn’t it, John Clayton?”
Well, John Clayton can lie like a dog to me, but not to Uncle Hugh.
“Uh, well, yes, sir, but I really did see a bloody finger.”
“I believe you, John Clayton, and let me tell you why.”
Shoot, when Uncle Hugh said that, our ears really perked up. We scooted over to Uncle Hugh’s rocking chair, and he started talking about the light.
“Boys, they’s something I didn’t tell y’all when I told y’all ’bout the light last time you were here.”
Gosh, when Uncle Hugh said that, I got to feeling all spooky, and we got a little closer to the fire.
“What was it, Uncle Hugh,” said John Clayton.
“Y’all remember when I told you what we found in the locomotive cab when we pulled that engine out of the water?”
“Yes, sir, the hand of the engineer was still on the brake.”
“Uh, huh, that’s right, Richard, but I left out one part ’cause it was kinda awful.”
“Awful? What was it, Uncle Hugh?”
“Well, John Clayton, you remember when I told y’all that we had a hard time gettin’ the engineer’s fingers off the brake?”
“Un, huh.”
“Boys, we worked and worked, but no matter what we did, we couldn’t get that last finger to turn loose of the brake, so after a while we had to leave it there. Then the next day when the big crane came to pick up the locomotive and haul it to the freight yard, I peeked in the cab just before it was picked up, and the finger was gone.”
“Gone! Where did it go?”
“I don’t rightly know, Richard. Maybe that ghost come and got it.”
“Oh, Uncle Hugh, do you really believe in ghosts?”
“Well shor ’nough, boys, ’cause I’ve seen some strange things that only a ghost could do. Now listen up, y’all. You boys better not say nothin’ bad ’bout ghosts ’cause they might decide to haunt you.”
Me and John Clayton smiled a little nervously because we knew Uncle Hugh believed in ghosts, and we kinda thought there might be ghosts, and we figured John Clayton and Sniffer had come about as close to seeing a ghost as a person could. That was all I wanted to hear. Shoot, I figured if Uncle Hugh told us anything else, I’d be too scared to walk home.
I stood up and handed Uncle Hugh his cup back. “Come on, John Clayton, let’s get back to town before it gets dark.”
“Well, Uncle Hugh, we gotta go, and thanks for the hot chocolate,” said John Clayton.
“Y’all is welcome. Come on back when you can.”
The dirt road back from Uncle Hugh’s house was catching the late afternoon sun, which felt real good, and the wind had died down by the time we got back to downtown.
“I gotta get home, feed the chickens, and gather eggs before dark. See you tomorrow,” I yelled as I started down the road toward my house.
CHAPTER SIX
Indian Scouts
It had been a few weeks since we’d gotten run outta the swamp when we were way down the creek near the O’Rear Cutoff Road. Heck, we’d talked about going back down there a bunch of times, but one thing we knew for sure; we weren’t gonna just walk stupidly back down the creek laughing and talking and maybe have that guy shoot at us again. Well, John Clayton said we should cross the creek and circle around on the opposite side and then sneak up there, but heck, that’d take half a day, and we’d probably get lost as a couple of gooses. Finally, I came up with an idea.
“Listen, John Clayton, I heard cars when we were getting close to that shed. Heck, it can’t be far from the O’Rear Cutoff Road. Instead of walking back down the creek where that man might see or hear us, we’ll walk down the highway toward El Dorado until we come to the O’Rear Cutoff, and then we’ll just walk down beside the highway until we come to a new road that turns off and heads back in the woods. You know they’re drivin’ in from the highway. Shoot, it’s gotta be real close to the creek, and if we’re real quiet—you know, like Indian scouts―nobody is gonna know we’re sneakin’ up on ’em.”
“Yeah, Richard, the last time we were just walkin’ through the wood laughin’ and talkin’ with a danged howlin’ hound dog out in front of us and not tryin’ to sneak up or nothin’.”
So our plan, to be Indian scouts and check out the mysterious shed that somebody wanted to be kept secret, was made.
Saturday afternoon we got back from the picture show at the Ritz Theater a little early and took off down the El Dorado Highway, heading for the swamp to check out the shed. I’d put Sniffer in the dog pen ’cause we sure didn’t want no howling hound dog giving us away.
“You sure you wanna do this?” questioned John Clayton as we walked down the road. “Shoot, as mean as that man looked, are you sure this is a good idea? Heck, what if he spots us again? This time he might not just shoot a tree.”
“Heck, yes, John Clayton. I’ve been thinkin’ ’bout that sorry man guardin’ the shed ever since we got run outta there, and I wanta find out what that crook is guardin’. There ain’t no way he can spot us if we slip up like Indian scouts. ”
Well, I wasn’t too sure about the whole idea, because I’d been standing right by the tree that man shot and some of the bark splattered and hit me. That dang bark stung like heck. Were we poking into something that was gonna get us in real trouble?
“Dang it, Richard, we need to get movin’ a little faster. Heck, it’s a long way round if we stay on the road all the way to O’Rear Cutoff.”
“Yeah, come on, let’s trot for a little bit.”
Well, we trotted on down the El Dorado Highway and in about thirty minutes we came to the O’Rear Cutoff Road. Another twenty minutes and we slowed down and started looking for any road that left the main road and headed back toward the swamp.
“Heck, Richard, I can see the bridge over Flat Creek just a hundred yards ahead, and we ain’t seen no sign of a road.”
“Naw, we ain’t. Do you think we missed it?”
“We couldn’t have. I guarantee you there hasn’t been a place where a car or truck could…wait a minute!...look, tire tracks going off toward that clump of big trees.” Sure enough there was a faint little road which made a circle around a big bunch of blackberry vines, and then the road disappeared into a grove of really big trees.
“That’s it! Come on, and be real quiet,” I said.
We turned off and followed the road, and as soon as it got into the trees it widened out and it looked like someone had graded
it and put some gravel down in the low spots. Heck, for an off-the-main-road, that road was pretty durn good. Well, we were just about to head on down it when I thought of something.
“Hey, wait a durn minute. If we head down this road I’ll guarantee you that we’ll come right up to that shed and that guy with the gun. We gotta circle out in the woods away from the road and the creek. That man will sure be watchin’ this road, and we know he’s watchin’ the creek.”
John Clayton nodded, we turned off and started a big circle, and twenty-five minutes later we turned back toward the creek. We were moving one slow step at a time, watching ahead for any movement, and we were being careful not to step on any limbs or leaves. Then we got a whiff of smoke.
“Shuss, I smell something,” I whispered to John Clayton.
Sure enough, we could smell wood burning and then we began to smell something sour.
We were inching along through some pretty thick brush when I poked John Clayton and whispered, “Heck, we’re real close. The smell is comin’ from that little ridge right ahead. Look, I can see a smoke risin’ up, and I think I can see the shed through the woods.”
Well, we went into our Indian scout way of sneaking and got down on our stomachs and slipped along, trying to stay in the thickest of the underbrush and away from any open woods. I guess we were about fifty yards from the shed, crawling along on our stomachs when stuff just started to happen.
“Don’t move! Somebody’s coming!” I whispered. I heard leaves crunching, and I looked in that direction. “Oh, my god, it’s that man and he’s coming right toward us!” I whispered.
Gosh, pushing through the brush was that same man that ran us off last time, and he was carrying a gun. He didn’t see us, but he was heading straight for us.
“Move―back up! The man’s gonna walk right up to us!” I whispered.
Well, for the next few minutes, me and John Clayton inched back until we was in the thickest part of the brush, and then we flattened out and stopped moving. We were right beside the new road. Heck, I was ready to run as soon as that guy turned his back, and I motioned for John Clayton to get ready, but before we could move an old truck rounded a curve in the road right ahead of us. It stopped not more than ten yards away. The driver honked his horn and just sat there.
Lyin' Like a Dog, The Yankee Doctor, The Danged Swamp! 3-Volume set Page 5