“That’s the end of the letter,” said Momma. Then she pulled the attached letter from Tony’s letter, and she started to cry again. “Jack, I can’t read it. Here read it to Richard.”
Daddy took the letter from Momma, cleared his throat and started to read.
“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Mason:
Private 1st Class Anthony A. Vollara was killed in action on July 22nd, 1945. In his belongings we found this letter addressed to you. I know he would want you to have it. Private Vollara died when his company was attacked by a Japanese suicide squad. His gallantry in action saved many lives, and he is being recommended for the Silver Star decoration for valor.”
“That’s the end of the letter, said Daddy. “It’s signed by the Secretary of the Army.”
We sat down around the kitchen table, and for a few minutes, the only sound in our kitchen was my sobbing. I raised my head and looked at the radio sitting there right in the middle of the table. Well, I’d listened to Walter Winchell so many times when he talked about American soldiers being killed, but that didn’t seem real. For the first time in my life I felt so sad I couldn’t stand it. Finally, I got up from the table and walked into the living room where I buried my face in a pillow on the couch.
After a while Momma and Daddy came into the living room, and we talked a little about Tony. Daddy left to go downtown, and Momma went back into the kitchen. I walked out of the house, and me and Sniffer went down to where the soldiers had camped. The field was still bare, and as I looked at the ground where the grass had been trampled by hundreds of men, I wondered how many of them wouldn’t come home. Then I sat down on the spot where Tony’s tent had been and cried for a long time.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dognapped
It was real sad around our house for the next couple of days, but I finally got to where I didn’t think about Tony all the time. On Monday afternoon, I decided to go fishing down on Flat Creek to get my mind off of Tony, but I was gonna stay right on the highway where the creek goes under the first bridge. Heck, maybe nobody believed me when I told them about seeing them prisoners a couple of weeks back, but I know danged well I saw them, and I wasn’t about to go back into that swamp again until they was caught. Well, the fishing went pretty good, and I brought back eight sunfish and four pretty good size goggle-eyes; enough for supper. Me and Sniffer was almost back to my house when Sniffer let out a long, hound howl and started sniffing like he was on a hot trail of something.
“Sniffer, here boy! Here!” I yelled. Heck, we were nearly home and it was almost dark. We didn’t have time to go after some old possum or rabbit. But Sniffer just kept on going and pretty soon he was into some deep woods, and I could still hear him howling when I got to my house. I figured he’d give up the chase and be back home by the time I finished supper. Sniffer was always at the back door at around 6:30 when we finish supper to get the scraps.
Momma had fried up some pork chops and since it was summer, we had peas, tomatoes, and fried okra. I crumbled up some cornbread in my glass of buttermilk, and when I finished I was so full I felt like I was just wobbling. Momma cleaned the plates and put all the scraps on one plate, and I walked out the back door and hollered for Sniffer.
“Sniffer! Here! Here!” Well, I yelled for about five minutes, but I didn’t see hide nor hair of that dog. Guess, he’s deep in the swamp and can’t hear me, I thought. I didn’t think nothing about it ’cause it sure wasn’t the first time Sniffer wandered off and stayed gone for a while. But the next morning when I got up to run my paper route, there was still no Sniffer. No kidding, I was really worried, and I checked the road out front to be sure some danged drunk hadn’t run over him—Nope, nothing on the road. It was the first morning that Sniffer hadn’t followed me on my paper route, and by the time I’d finished delivering them sorry papers I was really upset. As soon as I got back to my house, I walked down to the edge of the swamp and started calling for Sniffer. Just when I was about to give up, I heard Sniffer howl. Wow, I was relieved and I started into the swamp to find him, but what I found nearly shocked me to death. I’d gotten about 200 yards into the swamp, just about down to the creek, when I saw Sniffer standing by a tree.
“Sniffer? What are you doing? Why haven’t you come to the house when you heard me call you?”
Shoot, that question was answered real quickly, because as I got closer, I could see a rope around Sniffer’s neck, and it was tied to a tree. But before I could even say anything, a scruffy looking man stepped out from behind the tree. Oh, my gosh; it was one of them escaped prisoners! Heck, I was just about to take off running when I heard him yell to me, “Hey, boy, if you run off I’m going to shoot your dog—I mean it! I’ll kill this dog if you run off!”
Well, when I heard, “kill this dog” I pulled up and got behind a tree.
“What?”
“I said I’m gonna shoot your damn dog if you run off!” he yelled.
Shoot, I just took a deep breath and started to shake thinking about that sorry criminal about to shoot poor, old Sniffer.
“Please don’t kill Sniffer,” I yelled.
“I ain’t gonna kill him, if you do what I say,” the man hollered back.
“What do you want me to do?” Well, I knew one thing for sure, I wasn’t about to let that man get his hands on me, so I kinda listened up and got ready to run. If it meant Sniffer or me, it was gonna be Sniffer. Heck, I love Sniffer, but not enough to let them sorry men get a-holt of me. Then before I could move the man hollered again.
“Now listen up, kid. We been in this swamp for over two weeks, and we’re starving to death. We’ve been eating blackberries and fish we caught in the creek, but we need some real food. If you’ll bring us some food, I won’t hurt your dog, but if you go back and tell the sheriff, I swear I’ll put a bullet in this dog’s head before we run back in the swamp—Whata you say?”
Well, I sure didn’t want them to hurt Sniffer, and I figured that as soon as I gave them some food they’d let Sniffer go, and I’d hightail it back to the house and get the sheriff after them, so I yelled back, “If I bring you some food, will you let Sniffer go?”
“Yeah, you bet. Now head up to your house and get us something to eat—but you had better not tell a soul, or this is one dead dog.”
Gosh, I sure didn’t want to do nothing to help a bunch of sorry escaped prisoners, but heck, I wasn’t about to let them kill Sniffer. Shoot, what could giving them a little food hurt?
“Okay, I’ll do it if you cross your heart and swear to God that you’ll let Sniffer go.”
“Alright, I will.”
“Well, do it.”
“Huh?”
“Cross you heart and swear to God, you’ll let Sniffer go, if I bring you some food.”
“Uh, okay, I cross my heart and swear to God that I will let… Uh, what’s the dog’s name?”
“Sniffer.”
“…Sniffer loose if you bring us some food.”
“Okay, I’ll be back in a little bit.”
You know, thinking back on it, I never should have trusted them sorry criminals. Heck, if they would lie and kill folks; why would they keep their word about letting Sniffer loose? But I felt like I didn’t have no choice.
I kinda ducked down, took off running, and zigzagged out of the swamp. Shoot, about the first thing I thought of was to tell Daddy them men had Sniffer tied up in the swamp, but then I thought about the kitchen table talk, and I figured Daddy would just think I was making up a story and he sure wouldn’t call the sheriff or the state police, and dang, after I thought about it a little bit, I decided I didn’t want nobody to call the state police. I’d get them the food and after they let Sniffer go, I’d tell everybody. They could believe me or not, but I didn’t care. At least I’d have Sniffer.
When I got back to the house, Daddy had already gone to work, and in about an hour, Momma left for El Dorado. That was what I was waiting for, and for the next little bit, I rounded up as much food as I could find. Heck, it wa
s a pretty good bunch of food. Momma had put some left-over fried chicken in the icebox and of course they was a lot of vegetables and a big piece of cornbread from last night. I even filled up a jar with buttermilk. And heck, I figured I’d make them real happy with a big piece of apple pie. About 11 I got everything finished and headed for the swamp. Wow, I just sneaked in there until I got to about 50 yards from the tree. Yeah, there was Sniffer, and he saw me.
“Woof!”
Well, that was all it took and the man who seemed to be the head of the bunch jumped up and spotted me.
“Kid, did you bring the food?”
“Yes, sir. I’m gonna sit it right here, and you can get it and then let Sniffer go.”
“Well, we’re gonna let Sniffer go, but not right now. It’s already nearly noon, and we need an early start in the morning. So bring us some more food real early in the morning, and we’ll see about turning that mangy dog loose.”
“You promised you’d turn Sniffer loose, if I brought you some food. You crossed your heart and swore to God.”
“Yeah, I did, but I didn’t say when.”
Gosh, that sorry man kinda laughed, and I just stood there, so mad I could bite nails.
“So bring us some more food first thing in the morning, and we’ll see about turning your dog loose. If you don’t old Sniffer is spending his last night on earth. You hear me?”
I prayed to God that a bolt of lightning would just zap him, but when it didn’t, I figured if one more bunch of food would save Sniffer’s life, I should do it.
“Okay, I’ll bring some more food as soon as I finished by paper route in the morning. I’ll be by here about seven o’clock.”
“Okay, if you’re not here by seven, I’m gonna shoot the dog.”
“Don’t do that! I promise I’ll be here—and I keep my promises.”
“Don’t be smart-alecky kid, or you’ll regret it.”
“Okay, just don’t hurt, Sniffer.”
I headed back home really worried. What if they just kept holding Sniffer, and I had to bring them food every day. Heck, I would be like some slave hauling food to three of the sorriest men in the whole, entire world, but I didn’t have no choice. I’d do anything to keep them from killing Sniffer.
And heck, that was sure enough what happened. After them sorry men had chowed down on the food I brought them the next morning, they was just sitting around waiting for me to bring them some more. It was the worst thing I could imagine ’cause the man they was calling Sam just laughed when I told him to let Sniffer go.
“Kid, I’m gonna let your sorry dog loose, but when I get good and damn ready. Now, get your ass outta here and be back here tomorrow morning with some more food. You hear me!”
Dang, he sounded so mean I jumped like I’d been shot and took off back to the house. Now let me tell you something right now: Finding food and hauling it down to them sorry criminals was hard to do. Heck, Momma ain’t about to let that much food leave our house without questioning somebody, which would be me, about missing food. Well, I started having to use my paper route money to buy food, and I would go out in our garden and pick tomatoes and vegetables every morning. Heck, a lot of things were happening in Norphlet, and I just had to forget about rescuing Sniffer. I figured if I kept bringing them food they wouldn’t do nothing to him. So every morning I’d round up as much food as I could and take it down to the swamp. I guess they knew I wasn’t about to tell anybody since they had Sniffer.
Heck, I just had to go on and do stuff around town and act like nothing was going on. It was really hard. And yeah, I had to lie to Momma and Daddy about Sniffer. Shoot, I told them so many tales about Sniffer being under the house or down in the swamp hunting I was nearly blue in the face. Heck, I would even fake a whistle when I left for my paper route to make them think I had called Sniffer and he was following me, and it was just getting worse every day.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A Summer Revival
Heck, I can remember how much I wanted to get Sniffer’s kidnapping off my mind, and since I couldn’t tell nobody, it was about to drive me crazy. Well, just about the time I was going off the wall worrying, something happen to me and John Clayton that just shook us down to our toenails.
We were sitting on the breadbox down at Echol’s grocery talking about having nothing to do and how bored we were, and I was trying to act normal, while I was worrying about Sniffer, when two colored boys who good friends of ours, Joe Rel and Billy Ray Henry, came walking up. Joe Rel is my age and Billy Ray is a year older. They’re our fishing buddies.
“Hey, what y’all doin’, Joe Rel?” I yelled.
“We’s goin’ to the store for Momma. She’s outta shortnin’.”
“Think it’s too late to go fishin’?” said John Clayton.
“Naw, it ain’t,” grumbled Billy Ray, “But we can’t go, gotta get back early for revival services.”
Huh, I thought, I wonder what kinda revival they have at their church?
“What time does y’alls revival start?” I said.
“Bout 6 o’clock,” said Joe Rel.
“What do you mean ’bout 6 o’clock?”
“Aw, you know, we’s starts a-singin’ ’bout then and it kinda builds up as people comes in until maybe ’bout 6:30, and then the music really gets goin’ and everybody gets all stirred up, and sometime after that the preacher gets up and starts preachin’.”
“Yeah,” said Billy Ray, “and I can tell you one thing fo sure. It’s sure a lot better than your old white folks’ revivals. Shoot, y’all is top-water Baptists.”
“Huh? What the heck is a top-water Baptist?”
“Well, our preacher says you white folks just skims the top of the water. We gets real deep down where the Holy Spirit is.”
“We ain’t top-water Baptists!” said John Clayton. “I’ll bet we gets just a deep as y’all do.”
“No, y’all don’t,” said Billy Ray. “Them white folks at First Baptist ain’t never had the Holy Spirit come on them like we has.”
Well, Joe Rel and Billy Ray went on and on about their revival and how exciting it was. I started looking at John Clayton, and I could tell what he was thinking. Heck, we were bored out of our ever-loving minds, and that revival sure sounded better than doing nothing, and I figured it would take my mind off Sniffer.
“Uh, can we go to your revival?”
“Shoot yes, Richard. We don’t have none of them stupid rules like y’all do. Anybody can come. Why don’t y’all meet us down here a little before 6 o’clock, and we’ll walk down to the church together.”
I looked at John Clayton, and he nodded his head.
“Okay, we’ll be right here at a little before 6. Now, don’t y’all be late; you hear?” I yelled to Joe Rel as they walked away.
We decided not to go fishing since it was almost 3 o’clock. The walk to and from Flat Creek would take about an hour, and that wouldn’t leave us much time to fish.
I finished supper about 5:30 and walked back to town to meet John Clayton and the Henry brothers. John Clayton was already at the breadbox when I arrived, and it was just a few minutes till Joe Rel and Billy Ray walked up.
“Let’s go,” said Joe Rel.
After a short walk, we came to the First Church of God in Christ Jesus. It was a big white wooden church with two steeples, and a big front door was under each steeple. John Clayton and I started to go in the left door, but Joe Rel grabbed me.
“Y’all’s goin’ in the wrong door.”
“Whata you mean wrong door?” I said.
“That’s the women’s door. The men and boys use the right side door.”
“Huh?”
“That’s right,” said Billy Ray. “It’s tradition. Anyway, that’s what Daddy said when I asked him.”
We walked down the aisle of the sanctuary right down near the front to where Joe Rel and Billy Ray’s folks were sitting. The church was about half full when we walked in, and the singing had just started. The song
leader had a big choir behind him, and they were already swaying with the music. Heck, it sure started a whole lot better than our church, and I was just sitting there thinking about what a good idea it was to come.
As the church filled up, it was standing room only and the singing went on and on, singing the same songs we sing at our church, but the way that big lady on the piano played, they sang them much, much slower and everybody swayed. And even John Clayton and I was swaying because our whole row was moving like we were in slow motion. Wow, we were having the best time. About that time some people started stomping their feet and raising their hands, and then the dangest thing happened. As people started shouting, a lady just yelled, twirled around, and dropped to the floor like a rock.
“I poked John Clayton and whispered, “Did you see that?”
“Yeah, she must have fainted or something.”
I thought sure they’d take her out to see a doctor, but a couple of women just straightened her out, and she just lay there for a few minutes, and then got up like nothing had happened.
“Joe Rel,” I whispered, “what happened to her?”
“Nothin’ Richard, she’s just got overcome by the spirit.”
“What?”
“Yeah, it happens a whole bunch. Just wait till the preacher starts.”
Then all of a sudden, this big colored lady let out a yell, and with both hands straight up in the air she started to speak real loud, and she ran down front and held her hands out toward everybody. I couldn’t understand nothing she was saying, and then a whole bunch of people started yelling, and she just fell straight back and a man who was standing behind her caught her and let her down on a pew.
Lyin' Like a Dog, The Yankee Doctor, The Danged Swamp! 3-Volume set Page 45