by Chris Neeley
The doctors had said that Chloe had a heart attack. When Seph had tried to explain about the fever that had come from nowhere, they had just brushed him off and told him that Chloe had probably had a mild heart attack earlier and that's what had made her feel so bad and then a massive one snuffed out what life she had left.
He still had nightmares sometimes. About Chloe. About the crazy girl.
About the babe buried by the creek.
He'd thought about digging the babe up once, making things right, and then, he thought, how stupid could he be? He felt like Chloe's death was the price paid for bedding the girl. He would not pay another for naming the child. He still had a family to protect, even if Chloe was gone. Also, he didn't want his kids to find out that he was more than just a drinker. He didn't want them to find out that he had betrayed their mother in the worst possible way he could have.
It was evening now, and Fern had fixed a nice supper of pork chops, fried potatoes, and baked apples. Seph wandered out onto the front porch, cup of coffee in hand and sat down on the swing. He dug a cigarette out of his shirt pocket, lit it, pulling the smoke deep into his lungs. He blew the smoke out, watching it linger in the warm August air in front of him, and sipped his coffee. He watched the evening pour into the Hollow.
"Miss you, Chloe," he said to the empty space beside him on the swing.
Seph sat, sipping coffee and smoking his cigarette, hoping that nothing else would go wrong.
His safe little life wasn't so safe anymore.
***
James grunted, his hands on the butt end of Georgia, Fern's pet sow. "Get in there," he said, trying to shove the hog into the barn so that they could work on her. Georgia planted her feet and squealed. "Damn hog," James muttered. "Cliff!"
"What?" Cliff's voice echoed inside the barn. He had gone in to get everything ready that they would need to deal with Georgia.
"Cliff, I need some help out here. This old sow isn't going to come in there." James was ready to kill the old thing. He had pushed and shoved and even kicked her in her wide ass once, but she would not go into the barn.
Cliff came out of the barn and came up beside James. He was grinning. "She don't like you much, do she?" he said in a dumb voice.
"Knock it off. We've got to get her in there. That cut on her flank is broken open again. Shit, we'll have to hose her down before we can even do anything with her." James put his hands on his hips. The stupid sow had been rolling in the mud and was almost completely covered with it.
The two boys started walking toward the sow, who now stood with her hind quarters backed up against the fence of the pen. It was getting dark fast and James could kick himself for waiting until after supper to do this.
Georgia snorted, looking like she was going to rush them.
James split off from Cliff and the two angled toward the sides. James didn't want Georgia to run at him. If she connected with his legs, she could do some major damage. She went way over three hundred pounds. She'd take him down, that was for sure.
James and Cliff moved in from each side.
Georgia side-stepped and took off in a gallop, as much of a gallop as a three hundred pound pig could manage, and made a bee-line for the open barn door. James and Cliff took off after her, James yelling, "Ho, pig!" Georgia ran straight into the barn, the two boys right behind her. Cliff shoved the door shut behind them.
They had her. Sort of.
Georgia stood in the middle of the barn floor, snorting angrily. Her sides heaved, breathing heavy. She had exerted herself more in the last few minutes than she had in a month. Blood ran freely from the nearly four inch cut in her hind quarter where she had been rammed against a nail that stuck out in one of the fence posts by one of the other hogs last week.
"We are going to have one hell of a time getting a rope on that beast," Cliff said.
James grabbed a coil of rope that hung from a hook from a post just inside the door. He tied a slip knot in it and advanced on Georgia.
The sow stared him in the eye. She snorted.
James walked slowly, trying not to spook her. He wanted to get this over with.
Cliff moved to the side, coming up on James' left.
Georgia switched her gaze to Cliff.
James used the advantage, slipped the rope around Georgia's many-rolled neck and quickly tied the rope around another post before she could drag him across the barn.
"All right, Cliff!"
Cliff had the hose hooked up to the water spigot all ready and he turned the water on.
James got out of the way when Cliff trained the ice cold spray of water onto Georgia's mud-caked body. He planted himself on the seat of the lawn tractor to watch.
Cliff laughed as Georgia squealed, testing the strength of the rope.
"That's great, Cliff. Get her all riled up so when we put the medication on her cut, she can kick the shit out of us," James said, chiding his brother.
James could see through the cracks in the wall that it had grown dark outside. They'd have to put Georgia up in one of the stalls in the barn tonight. She'd be wet and it wouldn't be good for her to be out in the night air.
"Hey, James?" Cliff's voice held a serious note.
James paid attention to it. He looked at Cliff. He was still hosing down the sow, but he was a bit calmer in the way he was doing it. "What?"
Cliff kept his eyes on the sow, avoiding his brother's. "Maybe I shouldn't ask this, but--where did you go the night Mom died? You know, when you took off walking?" He still kept his eyes averted.
James thought back to that horrible night.
He had walked and walked, not paying attention to where he was going. Aunt Doll was quiet. Evidently, he hadn't lived up to her standards.
The woods talked to him, their leaves fluttering, branches clattering, teasing him, belittling him, laughing at him.
He thought about the giggle that he had thought he had heard coming from the front yard as he walked and he wondered if there had been someone out there, maybe the someone who was responsible.
He had continued walking until his brain had finally stopped racing with one possibility after another.
James sighed as he sat on the tractor.
His heart still had a raw spot when it came to the night his mother had died. He had gone back and checked the woods to see if he could find any sign of someone hiding there. All he had found were a few broken branches. Any animal could have done it. But, even now, he still caught himself watching the woods.
He looked at his brother now, here in the barn, as he washed a sow that should have been sent to the butcher's long ago.
"I didn't go anywhere, Cliff. I just walked, just got away, that's all."
"Oh," Cliff said, stealing a quick glance at James, "I just kind of wondered." Cliff turned the water off and wrapped the hose back up in a coil.
James slapped his thighs. "Well, let's get to it," he said, changing the subject.
So, the two boys, who were quickly becoming men, took on the sow.
***
Anna sat on her front porch, her legs dangling over the edge, Crow at her side.
The night had come on, slowly at first, then swooped the Hollow into a deep, dark shadow. It was warm tonight. Anna hadn't draped herself with her shawl for a long time now. She was glad that she hadn't bothered to fix the hole in the roof. It let in fresh air and when it rained, she stripped her clothes off and stood under it like a shower. She didn't care anymore about the wood floor that she had been so proud of, didn't care if the rain soaked it. It was already starting to warp in just the small amount of time that it had been exposed to Mother Nature's more vengeful side. She only stood under the rain shower to wash the dust off that made her itch. Her hair hadn't been touched by anything other than a piece of string since that awful night when she had lost Babe Rose. Her hair had completely lost its luster, but her eyes still held a fire, an insane fire.
She swung her legs back and forth, her head bowed, watching them as if me
smerized by their movement. The same question kept rolling through her mind, over and over, adding kindling to the fire in her eyes.
Why hadn't Seph come yet? Come to tell her that he would give Babe Rose his name.
Her legs swung faster every time the question repeated itself.
Crow hopped a few hops away from Anna, eyeing her warily.
The crickets sang in double-time out in the weeds, adding to the noise in her mind.
Why hadn't Seph come yet?
Anna jumped up from the porch and disappeared into the shack, only to reappear a few seconds later with her potato sack slung over one shoulder.
"Come on, Crow. I'm tired of waiting. Let's go do something to speed him up a might."
Crow cawed and took flight into the night.
Anna marched behind him as he led the way to the Mayhew farm.
***
Seph lay in the big double bed with the high black pine headboard and stared at a shaft of moonlight as it slowly walked its way across the wall.
These were the worst times, late at night, here in the bed alone with sleep refusing to take him away from the things that ate at his mind.
He blinked, listening to the sounds of the night move against each other, sometimes becoming one with one another, sometimes separate and alone, like himself. The sound of the crickets blended with the sound of the rustling leaves that didn't really sound like leaves at all. They sounded like a waterfall splashing over flat rocks, flat rocks like the ones that he had placed on top of the crazy's woman's dead babe's grave. Suddenly, the dead babe's tiny deformed face took shape in a shadow over there by the corner and Seph wanted to cry out, 'You're not mine,' but squeezed his mouth shut, biting his tongue because the kids would hear him, the kids would hear and then they would know, would know the awful thing that he had done.
He rolled onto his stomach and flopped a pillow over his head to shut out the night. He listened to himself breathing, letting the sound fill his ears, counting the breaths as if they were sheep until he finally felt the welcoming arm of sleep wrap around him and he dozed.
A new sound wove its way into his thankfully dreamless sleep.
It tugged at him, telling him that something was not right, something was amiss, you'd better wake up, Seph, go see, go see what's wrong.
Seph opened his eyes.
He was lying on his back again. The moon beam had finished its walk across the wall and had headed out for places unknown.
The crickets still chirped, the leaves still rustled. They didn't sound like a waterfall anymore.
Seph listened, tuning his ears to the night. Something had awakened him. Something that didn't fit in with the rest of the night's chorus. He watched toward the window. A breeze sifted through the screen, lifting the curtain. It made a soft shooshing sound as the material rubbed against itself.
A hog snorted.
Seph ears perked. The hogs should be asleep.
Even though the hog pen was at the back of the house to the side of the barn, at night Seph cold hear the livestock, even in his bedroom which faced the front of the house.
Seph waited, trying to breathe lightly and listened.
Another hog snorted.
Then, one let out a squeal.
Seph jumped from the bed and groped for his pants. He found them, jumped into them with both feet and was still pulling them up when he entered the hall.
"Boys!" Seph zipped his fly and flung open first Cliff's door, then James'. "Boys, get up! Something's at the hogs!"
Then he headed downstairs to find his gun.
***
James jerked awake when his father had yelled out. He was up and out of bed, struggling with his own pants even before he knew what was going on. Then his father yelled something about the hogs and he heard Seph tromp down the stairs.
James entered the hall, almost colliding with Cliff. Cliff was still trying to pull up his jeans. "What's going on?" he asked groggily, finally getting them up.
"Don't know," James said. "Come on." He took off after his father.
"I'm coming. Jesus."
***
Anna made her way through the woods with Crow's help.
She had skirted the Mayhew house and went out to where Seph kept his hogs in a pen.
The hogs were sleeping, all heaped together at one end of the sty.
She signaled Crow to hush. She didn't want him to let out one of his unearthly screeches and wake up all the animals. She wanted to get to the water trough at the other side of the sty and the only way she could see to do it was to climb inside the pen and cross it without waking up a hog.
She put her foot up on the lowest rail of the fence and tested it to see if it would hold her weight. It didn't even creak. She fingered the bottles and tins in her potato sack until she located the right one. She pulled the small bottle of bitter cider, to which she had added a touch of powdered mandrake, out of the sack and uncorked it. She swung her leg over the top rail of the fence, brought her other leg over and dropped down into the sty.
Her feet sunk in the mud up to her ankles. When she lifted her foot, it made a sucking sound. She glanced at the hogs. One of them kicked a foot, then was still.
Anna continued her sneaky creep across the sty.
She was within three feet of the trough when Crow let out a shriek loud enough to wake all the dead in the Hollow.
Anna's head whipped around.
One of the hogs was getting to its feet. It snorted, then it stepped on the one that had been lying beside it. It squealed in pain.
Anna turned back to her business. She was mud up to her knees now. She moved as fast as she could through the thick muck and dumped the bottle full of bitter potion into the water trough.
She heard Seph's voice inside the house. A light came on downstairs, followed by more voices. She had to get out of here.
Crow screeched a warning, then flew off into the night.
"Yes, just leave me here," Anna growled as she tried to hurry through the sticky mire. The hogs were milling about snorting, every so often one letting out a squeal.
She was halfway across the sty when the outside light came on at the back porch.
***
Seph stood on the porch, shot gun in hand, and squinted out toward the pigsty.
He could hear the animals moving around but he could only make out their outlines. He'd have to go on out there. He walked down the steps cautiously. At the bottom of the step, he cocked the shot gun, and hoped that he wouldn't have to use it.
But you never could tell what would come down from the mountains at night, craving a bit of pork rind.
He moved toward the sty, his heart pumping madly.
He caught a glimpse of someone coming over the top of the fence. "Who's there?" He raised the gun.
The person turned to look at him.
Seph's blood went cold.
It was the girl.
She crouched, looking very much like an animal. She raised a pale hand, beckoning.
Seph heard the boys come out of the house. He looked over his shoulder, then back to the girl. She was looking past him.
"Dad, what is it?" one of the boys called.
There was nothing else he could do.
He pulled off a shot, aiming way above her head.
She jerked down on all fours, screeching her anger.
Seph fired a second shell, high and to the right.
She took off, hissing over her shoulder, and disappeared into the night.
The boys came up behind him, flashlights in hand. "What was it, a cat?" Cliff asked, excited.
"Where did it run to? Did you hit it?" James asked.
Seph broke the shot gun open and started for the sty. Why had the girl been in with his hogs? "Bring your lights, boys."
The two boys trailed Seph to the fence.
The hogs were starting to settle back down. The boys shined their lights toward the sty, picking out each hog, one by one.
"Well, doesn't l
ook like there was any damage done," Seph said. "Let's get on back to the house. Let 'em settle down." He started walking back to the house.
James came up beside him. "Aren't we going to chase down whatever it was?"
"No. It's too dark. Besides, it already got a head start."
"What did it look like?" James kept pace with him.
"A cat. It looked like a cat." Seph walked up the steps, trying to put some distance between him and James.
"Don't you think we'd better...."
"No, James. I said no. We'll take a look in the morning." Seph went in the house, letting the screen door slam behind him.
***
When James had first come out the back door, he could have sworn that he had seen a person, crouched down by the fence, his father looking straight at them. James had turned to say something to Cliff when he heard the shot gun fire.
He and Cliff hurried out to their father's side. Before they could get there, their father fired a second shot.
James had swung his light around and caught a glimpse of long hair before the person he had seen disappeared into the trees.
"Watch it, watch...." Aunt Doll's voice beckoned in his ear.
He had went on out to where his father stood with his gun lowered.
Now, James stood at the bottom of the back porch steps and wondered why his father had lied.
It had been a person out there, a person with long hair. His father had tried to bluff it off as a big cat and James let him believe that he had succeeded. But Aunt Doll hadn't decided to speak to him for no reason.
James was going to keep an eye on his father. Something didn't smell right here. Seph must have known who it was, otherwise he wouldn't have missed. He had fired two shells. His father was a good shot.
James had been over to Old Matthew's twice since his mother had died, asking questions. James had thought of the possibility of his father messing with another woman and if anyone would know about it, it would be Matthew. But Matthew was a closed-mouthed old coot. He had told James that sure, Seph came over and drank some 'shine now and again, but Matthew didn't know about no other woman, uh-uh, no way. Matthew must not have told Seph that James had been asking questions, either, because Seph hadn't said anything to James about it.