by Amber Fallon
I had turned to go back inside when I spied Nathan Scullory over to the side of the house. He was taller than he had been when I last recalled seeing him, and he’d grown more muscular. His face was scrunched up all mean and angry. He wore a grey military hat with pants to match and shiny black boots, but his shirt was a torn up old white undershirt what looked like the ones my pa wore beneath his church clothes. It looked like he was fixing to throw a rock clean through my window. When he saw me he dropped it, but the mean old dog expression never left his face. He turned towards me, puffing his chest up and clenching his fists, walking his meanest walk on his way to the porch. He was exactly as I had remembered him in form if not in frame. I went over to the porch rail, steeling myself against whatever insults old Nathan might throw in my direction. I tried to stay calm and let my curiosity over his visit and my fear of what he might get up to if I let myself be provoked hide in the corners of my mind.
“Hello, Nathan,” I said, trying to be cordial. I wasn’t sure what it was he wanted but I knew he could whip me in a fight one handed and I didn’t aim to start no trouble, not with the mess what had already been given me.
Nathan and I had never been the best of friends, though I bore him no ill will and no cross words was ever spoke between us, at least none that I could recall. Nathan wasn’t as tall as I was, though he was two years older, but he did have a lot more muscle than I did on my wiry frame. He had dark hair and eyes and a flattish face what looked like someone had smacked him square in it with a shovel. With my own sandy blond hair and blue eyes, we were about as different as could be lookswise.
“Evening, Dell,” He said, and I got the idea that he was sizing me up. “My pa said you wanted to see me about my medals. I figured that was a lie but I decided to come see what you wanted for myself. I reckoned you’d be inside of doors by now, what with them warblers you got back there.” He gestured with his chin towards the rear yard, which had grown shadowy in the evening light. “I was just going to throw a rock to get your attention.”
I nodded, sticking my hands deep into the pockets of my overalls. “Yeah, we got warblers alright,” I said. “They killed my dog. Ate her up but proper. Left a real mess, too.”
How I ever managed to speak those words without a tremor in my voice I’ll never know, but I was grateful to whatever got me through it. Nate nodded in sympathy. I imagine he knew how much I had loved that dog. There’s a sort of universal law of boys and their dogs and I felt that Nate understood just what it was I had lost. It became easier to speak to him after that.
“It’s the warblers I wanted to speak to you for,” I said, climbing over the porch rail and jumping to the ground to stand face to face with Nathan Scullory. He was much bigger up close than he had been even from just a few feet away and I could smell sweat and the dirt and dust of the road on him. His eyes were like little chips of flint, small and cold and hard.
“What about them?” Nathan asked, tilting his head in query, causing his hat to shift a little to one side.
“Pa’s called someone to come get rid of them. I don’t rightly know who or what, but I know from everyone’s reactions around town that it can’t be good. I want to know what I’m in for,” I said, casting a glance once again over my shoulder.
Nate rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I can’t say as I know much about warblers myself. Those are a country problem, to be sure. In the city the worst we get are the trash can rats. But I do think I know what your pa has gone and done.”
I could only stare in response as I waited for Nathan to continue.
He paused for a minute, looking over to the shed before he went on, gesturing like our schoolmarm, Miss May, back when I did my learning at the little one room schoolhouse. There were fond memories of simpler times, bringing my knapsack with dusty chalk and a chipped slate, Ma packing my lunch, catching snakes and toads what to frighten the girls with. I wished I could go back there a spell, if only just to distance myself from the matters at hand.
“Warblers are a lot like birds,” he said. “Big, ugly, meat eating birds, but birds just the same. The natural predators of birds is reptiles, one reptile in particular in regards to those beasts. It’s called a Squamate. I’ve never seen one myself, so I don’t know rightly what to expect, but I do reckon that’s what your pa done called to have brought here, and why all the folk around are afraid. The Squamate’s supposed to be big and fierce and meaner than a mamma badger. I’ve heard tell one could take a man’s head off with the flick of a tail or the swat of a claw.”
I couldn’t decide at first if Nathan was just trying to put the fear into me, or if he was serious. I searched his face for some sign of the truth. He looked genuine, his dark eyes were solemn and his expression seemed sincere. I tried to get my mind around the idea, but found that I couldn’t. My pa had called someone to deliver to us some sort of beastly reptile what would eat up the warblers? What then, after it had ate its fill? Would it eat other things? Say, human beings? How could we control it? Would it come with handlers? I had more questions, but I didn’t think Nate had any answers for me and I sure didn’t want to push his good will no more.
“If that’s what’s coming, I want to be here to see it,” Nathan said, an edge creeping into his voice.
He was a military cadet, so I understood his bravery and his interest, especially if that beast was all he had said it was.
I nodded, thinking that if the Squamate truly was a thing to be afraid of it wouldn’t be bad having another hand around. Nathan had a gun and judging by his medals, he knew how to use it.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen, or when, but I reckon you’d be as welcome as any to come see it.”
Nathan shook his head. “Not if my pa hears that’s what I’m aiming to do, I won’t.”
Nathan looked me right in the eye and raised his finger to my chest, a scowl once again screwing up his face just as mean as a nasty old witch.
I sensed there was a sort of threat behind his gesture so I stayed still, planted where I was. “You find out when that thing’s coming and you let me know just as soon as you can. I’ll tell my pa I’m going to see some friends out to Brewster but I’ll be by here to see what’s what.”
Nathan withdrew his prodding finger from my chest but his face remained in a snarl. His posture was like a dog just looking for a fight but I didn’t intend on giving him any reason to start one. If that was what he wanted, that was what I’d do.
Now I don’t condone lying, but I also don’t go around telling other folk in what manner to act, so I just nodded. I’d find out if I could and pass the information on. Truth was, now that I had an idea of what was coming to my small farm, I felt a lot safer having a Military Man around, even if it was just old Nate Scullory.
Nathan’s eyes kept darting back to the shed, and I got the feeling he was getting awful nervous as the night come on. He turned his gaze back to me and said, “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you.”
He tugged on the brim of his hat in a gesture of farewell, turning as he did and putting me between himself and the rear yard.
I wondered if that were a purposeful act or just the way he’d intended on moving. I nodded, though he couldn’t see it, and stood there in the side yard willing myself to be steady until he was out of view.
Full night had come on in those last few minutes I’d been speaking with Nate and off in the distance, but still too close for comfort, the warblers had begun their cries, warning all those around, folk and animal alike, that they were looking for a meal.
I ran for the door, slammed it behind me, and threw the latch just as quick as I was able. Ma looked startled when I come in in such a fashion, her green eyes going round as saucers. I guess I’d never realized how pretty Ma was. It made me a little sad that before now I couldn’t really remember when last I’d stopped to look at her. Folks said I took after Pa and Mabel took after Ma, which I guess was a good thing. My sister would grow up like her, willowy and graceful with a wide smile full
of kindness and light. Ma dried off her hands on her apron before untying the strings and hanging it over the little cast iron stove to dry. She hugged me close, tears were in both our eyes, though I tried to hide it. She had never felt so fragile or so precious as she did right then. I didn’t want her to leave. It was on my lips to beg her not to when she let go of me and stepped back. She looked up at me, trying to force a smile. For whose benefit, hers or mine, I couldn’t be sure.
“It’ll be alright in a little while, Dell,” she said, her voice soft. “You’ll see. Your sister and I won’t be gone much more than a heartbeat.”
I smiled back, nodding and wondering if that was the last time I’d see my mother. I couldn’t seem to help what grim thoughts had come over me, though I didn’t like them one bit.
“Won’t you come on and help us with our things?” she asked.
I nodded and followed her to the front room where Mabel was already waiting, clutching her dolly in one hand and a little hanky tied up with all her treasures in the other.
“Ma,” she said when we come in, “Can Dell come with us?”
I leaned down and picked her up, scooping her into my arms. “I’m gonna stay and help Pa out with the farm,” I said. “Can you take care of Ma in my stead?”
Mabel nodded solemnly, her eyes round and serious. “I’ll watch over her.”
I hugged my sister close, taking in the scent of her, like rose water and the powdered soap Ma used, before setting her on the ground. I wanted to remember her just that way.
Ma and I took hold of the suitcases she had stacked so carefully and carried them out to my Uncle Errol’s wagon waiting on the front path. Mabel toddled along behind us as we went.
When we got out to the wagon, Uncle Errol was standing up against it, chewing on a wad of tobacco. He smiled and straightened when he saw me.
“Why, Dell!” he said, somehow managing to sound cheerful despite the circumstances, “if you aren’t the spitting image of your father when he was your age!”
He took one of the suitcases from me and clapped me on the back, putting an arm around my shoulder and leading me onward. We loaded everything up and tied it down proper as Ma and Mabel got settled into the carriage. Errol pulled me aside just out of hearing range of the womenfolk.
“You know,” he said, leaning down to whisper, “I tried to talk your pa out of this foolishness.”
Errol was a good bit taller than my pa, though the two were brothers, and he didn’t look much like him save for the crook of the nose they both shared. He was as tall and gangly as my pa was wiry and strong, much like me.
“I know,” I said, looking back to the house.
Pa was inside, but I didn’t think he was apt to come out. I figured it best to let him alone. I supposed he and Ma had already said their goodbyes, at least I hoped they had.
“I don’t know why for he feels compelled to do this.” Errol scratched his head. “At least he had the good sense to get your Ma and your sister out of harm’s way.”
I nodded again, not sure what to say. I wouldn’t speak ill of my father, not even to one of our relations, but I owed my uncle the respect of listening to his words whether or not I agreed with them. I reckoned I didn’t know enough to judge either way.
“Why don’t you come with us, Dell? Leave your old man to his fool errand. Plenty of room and I bet your cousins would be tickled to death to see you.”
“I don’t suppose I can do that, sir,” I said, standing straighter. “My place is here, on this farm, with my pa.”
Errol nodded like that was what he’d expected me to say.
“You’re a good boy, Dell,” he said, reaching out for my hand. “Don’t you let anyone tell you none different.”
He shook my hand firm before climbing up to his spot on the wagon. The horses pawed the ground fearfully, whinnying and shaking their heads. I could see little bits of white around the edges of their eyes. I supposed they could scent the warblers as most animals can smell predators nearby. They looked awful spooked at any rate, and I only hoped they wouldn’t startle none on the ride back to Granby. I knew I was borrowing trouble, as Ma would say, but the dark thoughts were there again and I didn’t know how to shake them free.
With a final nod of his head, my uncle cracked the reins. The carriage pulled away and I stood there looking after it, not even fear of the warblers could tear me away from the sight. I watched it roll off into the distance until I could see it no more before I turned to go back into the house, tears falling from my eyes. I wondered if there was a limit to the tears a man could shed in his lifetime and what happened once he’d used up his allotment.
FOURTEEN
Pa was sitting at the table when I came in, which startled me. It didn’t look to me like he had noticed my entrance. He had a bottle open and a glass was sitting next to it. Judging by his expression, he’d filled and emptied that glass a few times already. Pa wouldn’t have been drinking out in the open like he was if Ma and Mabel were still here, I reckoned. I don’t suppose it mattered much. He looked up from his glass when I sat down next to him.
“Pa?” I asked, trying not to choke on the vapors wafting off the brown liquor in the glass he was holding.
Pa shifted in his seat, draining the glass dry and setting it back on the table with a clunk.
I tried a different approach to get my questions answered, hoping that perhaps the liquor would be of help to me. “Now that the womenfolk have left and it’s just you and me, can we talk about that phone call you made over at McRory’s?”
Pa swallowed hard and looked at the bottom of his glass like he hoped to see answers there or a maybe way out. Finally, after a long while, he sighed. “I reckon we can,” he said sadly.
I sat patiently, waiting to see if Pa would pour another glass, or maybe even offer me some of the brown liquid, but he didn’t.
“There are times,” he said, “when there ain’t no choice left to a man but to do a thing he doesn’t want to do.”
I nodded, but I didn’t really understand what he meant. I thought on his words while I waited for him to continue.
“Pa?” I asked again after a time, deciding to take the direct approach instead. “What’s coming to our farm?”
Pa swallowed again, and I wondered if the liquor had hurt his throat somehow. I couldn’t imagine why a man would want to drink a thing what made the eyes water in such a way, but I had to admit that I wanted to try it to find out.
Pa leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. He stayed that way so long I thought he might have nodded off, but finally he spoke, his voice soft and somehow frail. “It’s called a Squamate, son.”
I nodded. Nathan had been right.
“I saw one once, when I was a boy not much younger than you are now. Infestation of warblers down at the grain silo my Pa shared with some other farmers. I don’t reckon I’ll ever forget that day. Terrible beast.”
Pa shuddered, his shoulders hitching like a sob. His speech was slurred, and his head was rolling to one side like he was nodding off. I thought he might be. Still, I hoped he would continue his story, but he remained quiet, almost dozing where he sat.
“When is it coming, Pa? Can you tell me that?” I asked once I was sure he was done with speaking of his past.
Pa stood up, took a second to gain his footing, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Tomorrow. Round about dusk. Now get to bed, Dell. We’ve got a full day ahead of us. I reckon we’ll both be needing our sleep.”
I nodded, though Pa didn’t see. He had already turned to go upstairs to the little room with the flowery yellow wallpaper he and Ma usually shared. He’d be alone in it tonight, though, and I reckon missing Ma a lot more than I was.
I went to my room after putting away Pa’s glass and bottle. Though I was tempted, I did not try his liquor for myself that night. Afterwards I sat at the table in the chair where Pa had sat. I took comfort in the warmth of it as I thought about what was yet to com
e. Pa seemed afraid of the Squamate just as much as anyone. So why had he summoned it? I remembered what Mr. McRory had said about the Havershams. Why hadn’t Pa at least talked to them first? Then I thought again of Lee Tate. I supposed being the man he was that my pa didn’t want any casualties under his name. That big old Squamate could take care of itself, I reckoned, and even if not, I didn’t believe anyone in town would miss it none. After a time my imagination had run out on me and my eyelids began to feel heavy. I didn’t know how I’d ever be able to sleep, but I went up to my room anyway. I stood at the window for a spell, staring out into the darkness, straining my eyes to catch sight of the warblers, the wretched beasts what had brought all this about, tearing up my family and slaughtering my dog.
I changed out of my day clothes and lay down underneath the covers, my back to the window. Let them come, I thought, let them come and see what we have waiting for them. The last thought I had before I drifted off to sleep was of Ma and Mabel, returning to home and Pa and me there to greet them among a whole field of dead warblers laid out to dry like bales of hay.
I didn’t get much sleep that night. Between tossing and turning and listening to the warblers outside, I couldn’t manage to keep my eyes closed for too long. I got up out of bed and stood at the window, staring out at the rear yard in the direction of the back shed, lit up as it was by silvery moonlight. Every now and again I’d catch a glimpse of something dark and shadowy out the corner of my eye, but every time I’d look in that direction the shadow had disappeared like a ghost or a nightmare. Those things out there were all too real, but they’d be gone soon enough, I hoped. I just wasn’t sure what else might be lost in the process.