by Lila Beckham
“I know that may not be what you wanted to hear, son, but it’s the truth. That other woman the sheriff was talking about had a husband and children too. Women don’t usually abandon their children. When they do leave their husbands, they take the young ones with them. It is their natural instinct to keep them close, to protect them. I still think the older Dixon had something to do with that, and I’ll tell you why.
You know, I told you that I worked on the Le Fleur Plantation with my father. The Dixons moved into town from Georgia or somewhere and purchased the place soon after Le Fleur passed away; it was toward the end of 1939. My father and most of the others working there lost their jobs. I did too, but was soon hired back to maintain the grounds around the main house. You know, mowing the lawn, sweeping the banana spider webs down from the outside of the house, raking leaves and burning them.
I had been working there about six months when I come up on the old man feeding the hogs. That in itself was not bad, but it was odd. He had never taken it upon himself to feed the pigs before. I was almost positive that I saw a human finger protruding from the feed trough before the old man saw me and ushered me off toward the house.
I had read several months earlier that another woman had gone missing, and that was the first thing that comes to my mind when I saw that finger.
The hog pen was a good quarter mile from the main house and close to the old quarters. In the year or so I had worked for them, I had never seen the old man venture down there before. I had seen Early Dixon there on numerous occasions. He was always messing around the animals, if you know what I mean. Anyhow, I think that was how the old man got rid of the bodies. He fed them to the pigs. What better way to get rid of the evidence. They eat it up, bones and all, and then shit it out and wallow in it.
I went to the local sheriff and told him my theory, but he thought I was crazy. He said they would follow up on it, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that he thought I belonged in over in Searcy Mental Hospital along with all the other fruit cakes.”
Joshua was at a loss as what to say; it made sense to him. Scarborough was right; feeding the body to the pigs was the perfect way to get rid of evidence.
Emma came back inside and asked if she could use the restroom. Scarborough told her of course she could. He nodded toward the hallway and said, “It’s the second door on the right.” Just before she disappeared down the hallway, Emma told Joshua that someone was calling for him on the car radio. Joshua was surprised it had taken them that long to check on his whereabouts. He thanked Scarborough for all the information he had given him and asked if he could call on him if he needed his help in the future. Scarborough replied that of course he could, and that he had enjoyed talking with him. He hinted that had more information on the Dixons if he needed it. Joshua thanked him again as he and Emma left.
27
Backtracking
As soon as Joshua got into his cruiser, he radioed the station to see why they were trying to get in touch with him. Ida Mae told him that John Metcalf was looking for him. She said they had a new development in the Train Track Killer Case. Her words surprised him. He figured he was done with that case when the killer crossed the state line into Mississippi. The last he heard, the killer was in Texas. He figured he would have already made it into Mexico by then and that he would never hear anymore about it. He told Ida Mae to tell Metcalf that he should be close to home in an hour, hour and a half at the most. They left Citronelle by way of Prine Road. In an hour and fifteen minutes, he was pulling into his front yard. Except for the songs playing on the 8-track player, they had driven the entire length in silence. Joshua had so many thoughts going on in his mind that he had not paid any attention to what was playing.
He hated backtracking; especially a case he thought he was done with. Once he was done with them, he tried to put them out of his mind. He had successfully done that with the Train Track Killer Case. He had put it all the way out of his mind, not just to a back burner to simmer and stew.
Many probably thought the case of the Dixons and their serial killing ways should be finished too, but it was sitting on that burner simmering away, and the more he learned about them, the thicker that stew got.
Going over the Train Track Killer’s case in his mind as he drove, caused him to see just how sick and depraved the killer was. All killers are sick and depraved to some extent, but some were definitely sicker and more depraved than others were. How these people decided what they wanted to do to people before, during, or after they killed them was beyond his imagining. Does everyone have this capability inside them, he wondered. As he thought about it, he decided that everyone had some of these tendencies; some just had more than others did. Some were pushed to it by other people, some craved it from the get go, and some discovered it by accident.
He knew of several cases where people were pushed and pushed until they fought back. The things they did were as bad as or worse than what was done to them because of the built up anger. Moreover, others had to do something they considered gross then discovered that they liked the ugliness of it and wanted more. Then some, like the younger Dixons, were born with the depravity in their blood. From the get go they were screwed; they never stood a chance. He wondered what had set the Mexican off. What had caused him to go on a nationwide killing spree? Something set him off; there was a trigger to everything. Joshua knew that as surely as he knew his own name.
John Metcalf’s car was sitting in his yard when they arrived. However, John had gotten out and was walking around exploring on his own. He was coming from toward the river when they pulled up. Joshua got out and walked to meet him. He could tell by Metcalf’s grim demeanor that the news was bad.
“Ida Mae said that you were looking for me.”
“Yes, Sheriff. Our killer has decided to head back our way. At least the FBI is sure he was the one that killed a woman in Baton Rouge, Louisiana day before yesterday.
At first, they thought it might be a copycat murder, but the details were never released to the public. Then they found his fingerprints at the scene. It was at a home near the rail yard there. The manner was a butcher knife in the kitchen while the woman prepared breakfast… This dude is an early riser, Sheriff. It seems all of his attacks are early morning while the women are in the kitchen. They don’t know if he stakes them out or if their lighted windows draw his attention to them.”
“Have they released a statement warning people that live near railroad tracks to be watchful and to keep their doors locked?”
“Not that I know of, Sheriff. They probably figure it will cause panic and a swarm of calls every time someone sees a dark-skinned man near any railroad track. That would tie up a lot of detectives and the phone lines. Most police stations don’t have the manpower to investigate every call that could come in from such an event.”
“Well, they need to do something. They need to warn people so they can protect themselves. John, you yourself know if people know something like that is happening, they will take care of him if he shows up at their doors. Most folks living in rural areas own guns and know how to use them.”
“Yeah, I know, but if people are suspicious of everyone that comes to their door, an innocent person could be killed and that would cause even more problems, especially for those in our line of work.”
“I know, but it just makes me feel inadequate to know that he slipped through our fingers and has gone on to kill more people.”
“Well, you never really had a chance to catch him, Sheriff. He was here and then he was gone before you even had time to evaluate the situation.”
Joshua knew that Metcalf was right but it did not make it any easier, especially knowing that the killer had killed since then and that he would probably kill many more times before he was caught. People like him that live on the fringe of society, easily go unnoticed by everyone, including those in law enforcement.
“Joe Barnes was the one who called. He said he just wanted to keep you apprised of the situatio
n in case that Mexican decided to double back and backtrack his way through here. I told him we were much obliged for his call and for him to let us know of any further developments in the case. He said that he would.”
“That’s good,” Joshua replied, and then asked Metcalf if he wanted to sit down and have a drink. Metcalf told him that he would take a rain check; he needed to get on down the road. He was headed to Lucedale to eat supper with his folks. He said he wondered what girl they had invited over this time.
“They’re all the time trying to match me up with someone,” he said. “They think I need a wife to take care of me. I try to tell them to lay off about it, but my mama is relentless in her pursuit to get me married off,” he chuckled.
“You might be better off letting her pick one out for you,” Joshua chuckled. “At least it would be one that she approved of,” he said, remembering how his grandmother had warned him about Francine before he married her.
‘That girl is going to break your heart, Joshua. Take time to know her before you go and marry her’ his grandmother said, but he did not listen. He was young; he thought he knew what he wanted.
“You might be right, Sheriff, but I am nowhere near ready to get married. To someone they approve of or not. It does not fit into my plans at this time. I enjoy my bachelorhood and not having anyone to account my time to.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Joshua replied. Emma came out of the house, sat down in the porch swing and curled her legs under her.
“Hello, Mister Metcalf,” Emma said. She looked John in the eye and then demurely looked away. Joshua noticed that Metcalf blushed. Uh huh, he thought to himself. Maybe he is interested in a woman after all, just not one his mother knows. That would explain why he made this ‘in person’ visit.
“I was about to fix us some supper. Do you want to stay and eat with us?” Emma asked. Joshua could see that Emma’s invitation pleased Metcalf by the show of a dimple in his left cheek. He shuffled his feet and replied that he would love to, but he had done promised his mother that he would come eat supper with them. Emma acted disappointed.
Joshua came close to telling John Metcalf that he ought to take Emma with him to his parents, maybe then his mother would leave him alone. Instead, Joshua told John he would talk to him later then walked inside; he wanted to give them a moment alone. He hoped that Emma would turn her attentions to someone besides him.
He poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat down at the kitchen table to look through some more of the files he had brought home. He could hear the soft murmur of voices through the wall, but after a minute or two, no longer paid any attention to them as he became immersed in the files. Something about the young couple that had gone on a picnic and then disappearance still bothered him. He intended to go through the files again, armed with more knowledge this time than what he had the first time through.
28
Smoke Rings
After about thirty minutes or so of looking over the files, Joshua became tangle-eyed. The words began to blur and run together. So immersed had he become in the files that nothing else had gained his attention. He was surprised to hear Emma and John Metcalf still talking. Undoubtedly, John had decided that he would rather chat with Emma than drive to his parent’s house in Lucedale.
Joshua wanted a cigarette, but did not want to interfere with the young folk’s conversation. He picked up his cigarettes, poured himself a glass of whiskey and carried them onto the front porch to light up.
It had gotten dark by then. His front porch lacked light from the kitchen that the back porch had. He did not want to turn on the front room light nor the porch light, so he fumbled around in the dark a minute before he found the rocker he usually sat in while out there. Once he sat down and kicked back with his feet propped on the railing, he saw a flicker of light in the night skies just before he lit a smoke.
It was extremely quiet on the front porch. All he could hear was night critters and the distant rumble of thunder. After a long inhale and slow exhale, he puffed a couple of smoke rings and tried to watch them float away… he swallowed half the whiskey, its warmth filled him with peace and tranquility as he listened.
A gust of wind blew swiftly but for only a moment. The wonderful smell of misty rain filled the air and he heard the sound of tender leaves fall and land softly on the tin roof overhead. Then all became quiet again. After a few minutes, the quietness within him took a brutal toll, it raged as strong as the whiskey that filled his aching soul. The darkness, like a sword, was long, cold, and sharp as he sat there on his front porch, blowing smoke rings into the dark. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a hard rain began to fall. He heard the sound of a whippoorwill as it ended its last lonesome call. The rain on the tin roof lulled and he began to doze, until the sharp clap, clap of thunder shook the very foundation of his soul. He sat upright with start, just in time to see a pine tree split from bottom to top as lightning shot into the sky to meet a downward electrical charge of equal strength and velocity. The light from their joining lit up the entire front yard.
The warrior he had seen on several occasions, sat astride his painted pony at the base of the divided pine. The two halves flowed outward from behind him, giving the impression that the horse and rider had sprouted giant wings.
The warrior’s eyes burned into his, but Joshua did not look away. Instead, he stared deeper, letting himself become one with the warrior. For a brief second he felt the rain on his back, the electricity of the storm raised the hair on his neck and arms and the intense sadness the warrior felt was his own. Suddenly another stroke of lightning struck, knocking him back into his chair. He smelled burnt sulfur, hair, and pinesap. An intense burn seared his shoulder; Joshua flinched and shifted his arm. The burning pain felt similar to being shot; the way the bullet feels as it tears through the flesh.
He picked his shirt up off his shoulder with his other hand until the sizzle cooled somewhat. Afterward, he fumbled for and found his cigarettes. He lit one and inhaled sharply, trying to dull the pain. When the next stoke of lightning came, he did not see the warrior, just the shattered tree.
“What the hell just happened?” he mumbled aloud and gazed out into the yard.
As the rain stopped and the heat from the burning tree mixed with the cooling vapor of the storm, a mist formed and covered the entire area. Soon, a thick smoke-filled fog settled around him. Joshua stood with the intention of going inside.
The last time such a fog had formed, he’d had a visit from an otherworldly phantom and he was not sure he was ready for that, at least not right then. Suddenly, the tender beginning of the ‘Time in a Bottle’ song filled the space around him. It was a moment before he realized that it was coming from inside the cabin. He figured that Emma must have turned on the radio in the kitchen.
Joshua opened the screen door and stepped inside. As he walked toward the table, he began to feel weak. He sat down with a thud and reached for the bottle of whiskey. He managed to pour himself a shot of whiskey and swallow it. He hoped it would help him feel better. He heard the back screen door slap against wood, Emma’s sharp intake of breath before she called out for John Metcalf to hurry inside.
Joshua tried to turn toward her, but before he could, nausea hit him hard and his head began to spin; suddenly but slowly, darkness surrounded him…
29
Damned
The sound of blood rushing through his ears, similar to the sound of water rushing over a cliff, greeted Joshua as he struggled to wake. The wa-wa of opposing levels of fluid filling his eardrums echoed through his conscious. He tried to raise his head but he couldn’t; he drifted back into la-la land. All of a sudden, he was dreaming. He knew he had to be. He was walking down a sidewalk holding hands with his mother. A man that was not his father, walked along with them. The man appeared to be in his mid-twenties. He had dark curly hair and dark eyes. He was tall, thin and wore wire-rimmed glasses.
When they reached the sidewalk of a two-storied house, that he r
ecognized as the home he shared with his parents, his mother stopped and told him to run along inside and start on his homework. Joshua started toward the house but when he reached the porch, he stopped and turned toward them.
He heard his mother say, “Thank you, for walking us home Mr. Dixon, but you did not have to do this. Joshua and I would have been fine.” The young man appeared nervous - Joshua could tell the man had a crush on his mother. He saw the man glance around and up and down the street.
With a thick, southern accent, he said “Please Miss Annaleigh, call me J. B. I wanted to walk with y’all because it is not safe; believe me when I tell you this. Always, always be watchful and don’t trust people, especially men you don’t know.” the young man lowered his voice and said, “I know you know my father, but do not trust him either.” Joshua saw a look of surprise come over his mother’s face at the man’s words.
“I will probably be leaving as soon as I save enough money,” the young man said. “I cannot stay here with these people. My family is damned, Miss Annaleigh, damned I tell you. They are damned and going to hell, every one of them!” he exclaimed loudly, and then lowered his voice again. “I don’t have any other choice but to run away. I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be coming back to church before I leave.”
“Isn’t there another way?” Joshua’s mother asked. “You are doing so well” she said, “You almost prayed through last Sunday. Next time, you may receive the Holy Ghost-”
“I sorry ma’am, there is no other way; I have to go now. If I stay here, I will be damned too. Whatever you do, do not let my father inside your home. He is a very dangerous man, Miss Annaleigh!” Before his mother could speak again, the man turned and ran back toward the main street. Joshua watched him turn the corner and then looked toward his mother; she too was watching him go. When she turned to come up the sidewalk, Joshua could tell that what the man said bothered her.