“I still have a feeling someone lives here. What if some bank robbers live here?”
“Then maybe they’ll let us join their gang, and we really can be like Jessie James. You have to look on the positive side of things. You always try to make a tragedy out of everything. You should quit worrying so much.”
The room we entered was large, being the only room in the back part of the house. I could see now that the house had four rooms, three rooms in front, each with a doorway leading to one big room in the back. On the back wall of the big room was a large stone fireplace that had an iron kettle hanging inside it. To the left of the fireplace there was a cabinet with various drawers and doors. The cabinet doors had tin on the front with little holes punched into designs. I remembered seeing one at my great grandmother’s house before she died. My mother called it a pie safe. I was fascinated by a whole cabinet devoted to pies and later snuck into the kitchen and opened one of the doors. I was disappointed to find it filled with plates, cups, and other dishes. There were no pies to be found.
In front of the pie safe there was a table that had metal legs and a white metal top that was trimmed around the edges in red. On each side of the table was a chair, made from metal tubing, that had red cushions for the seat and the back. There wasn’t much furniture on the side of the room we were on, just an old trunk against the wall, two wooden chairs, and a short bookshelf with a few tattered books scattered about its four shelves. The door leading to the backyard had a little window with a simple white curtain over it. The curtain, like other curtains in the house, looked clean, not like you’d expect to find in a house that had been abandoned for years.
“We need to find us a place to sleep,” said Charlie, “I don’t know about you, but I’m worn out.” With that he walked through the doorway that led to the room in the middle. “What luck, there’s a bed in here. We can sleep here. This is going to be a perfect place for us to stay. We’ve got everything we need. We could live here until we’re grown if we had to.”
“What do we do about food?” I whispered. “We’ll have to have food if we’re going to live up here for that long.”
“I guess we’ll have to turn to cannibalism,” Charlie said and laughed. “I get first dibs.”
“What’s cannibalism?” I asked.
“Didn’t you hear about them people a long time ago?”
“What people?”
“They were traveling out west in covered wagons. The weather got real bad when they got in the mountains. It was snowing like crazy. Well, the worst part was they ran out of food. One by one they would starve to death. The ones that were left started eating the starved ones just so they could survive. That’s cannibalism.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” I said, disgusted. “I’d starve before I’d do something like that. And thanks for the uplifting story. I should sleep extra well tonight.”
“We won’t have to worry about it, anyway,” said Charlie. “I’ve got it covered. We can hunt and fish and have the best time there ever was. And besides, Stephanie can bring us up snacks from the store. The two-hundred dollars should keep us in snacks for years.”
Like the curtain and the rest of the house, the bedroom looked too clean to have been abandoned for very long. There were no cobwebs draped from the ceiling; the metal-framed bed, made up neatly with a patchwork quilt, did not appear dirty; and the furniture, although not the latest style, wasn’t excessively dusty like might be expected in an abandoned house. Unlike the rest of the rooms in the house, there was no door that led to the outside, just a window with a green curtain over it. The only other furniture besides the bed was a dresser with five drawers and an old fashion washstand with a pitcher and bowl on top of it.
Setting his things down, Charlie took his shoes and socks off and changed into a pair of shorts from his backpack. He climbed into bed, scooting to the far side to allow room for me. Not feeling quite so relaxed as Charlie in the strange environment, I stood there a moment hesitating. Finally, having nowhere else to go, I joined him, fully dressed with my shoes on, just in case I needed to escape in a hurry.
Chapter 9
Charlie quickly fell asleep, as indicated by his soft snoring, but I lay there for a time listening to every sound. It occurred to me that the window was open. I hadn’t noticed this before. The coyotes began to howl again, and I started to worry that one or more of them might jump through the open window into the bedroom. Maybe the coyotes lived here rather than the cave. I wanted to get up and shut the window, but I was too afraid. A squeaking sound coming from the kitchen area interrupted my thoughts about the coyotes. I listened very intently for a reoccurrence of the noise, almost afraid to breathe. I was sure someone was in the house and was creeping up very slowly, like the murderer in the Edgar Allen Poe story “The Tell-Tale Heart”. My thoughts soon drifted to other terrors when an owl started to hoot, seemingly right outside the window. There were plenty of noises to keep my nerves entertained, and although I’d planned to listen to these noises until daylight, I soon drifted off to sleep.
“What the hell are you doing in my bed?”
Those words jarred me from my sleep no less violently than someone starting a chainsaw would have. Charlie screamed. I tried to but was so terrified I couldn’t even catch my breath. I looked up to see an old man holding a lantern in one hand and a gun in the other. His gray hair stood wildly about his head, and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in days. The dim lantern light cast shadows on his leathery, wrinkled face, making him look very menacing.
“Don’t shoot us please,” pleaded Charlie, sitting up in the bed and grasping his pillow tightly. “We didn’t bother anything. We just needed a place to spend the night.”
“I’ll decide if there’s going to be any shooting going on here tonight,” said the old man. “I guess I will have to shoot you two, come to think of it. The whole town will be up here if I don’t make it clear I like to be left alone. Guess I’ll just have to make an example out of the two of you.”
“No, please don’t,” said Charlie, starting to cry.
I was still too horrified by what was going on to express any kind of emotion. I felt numb with fear. I thought that if I moved it would send the crazy old man into a greater rage, and that would be the end of us.
“Now, just explain to me how it is that you two ended up here sleeping in my bed. I’ve done seen it all now. I go out trying to catch me some frogs to eat and come back home and find two little brats sleeping in my bed. Yep, I’ve done seen it all now.”
“We’re running from the law and our parents,” said Charlie.
“Running from the law? Now why would the law be after two kids like you?”
“Well, you see,” said Charlie, talking nervously fast, “Brian accidentally killed somebody but didn’t mean to. And I’m in trouble for getting in a fight at my aunt’s wedding shower and turning the cake over in the floor. We’re in all kinds of big trouble. The police and everybody are looking for us. We saw it on TV. We came up here to hide out until everybody cooled down. We figured if we stayed gone for long enough, everyone would be so happy to see us still alive when we got back home that we wouldn’t be in trouble anymore.”
“Now just how is it that you killed somebody?” asked the old man, rubbing his chin as though thinking deeply.
I was still unable to get any words out, so Charlie answered for me. “He snuck a plate of cookies to his grandmother’s housekeeper, and she’s a bad diabetic. His grandmother told him not to, but he did it anyway. The next morning she was dead.”
The old man laughed out loud.
“It’s not funny,” said Charlie.
“No, of course not,” said the old man, continuing to laugh. “I guess they’ll be warming up the electric chairs for you two: a murderer and his accomplice. They’ll have to make sure they’re working right. Sometimes those chairs don’t work right, and the person dies really slow. They sort of cook from the inside out.” He laughed again.
I started crying.
“Oh, don’t cry,” said the old man. “I’m just pulling your leg. I’ve got to hand it to you, though, that plan you two concocted is pretty ingenious, thinking everybody will be too happy to see you alive to be mad at you.”
“I thought of it,” said Charlie.
“Your scheme, however, has a major flaw.”
“What kind of flaw?” asked Charlie.
“The problem is that once everyone gets over being so happy to see you two still alive, they’re going to be ten times more angry than they were before, seeing how you put them through so much stress.”
“I didn’t think of that,” said Charlie.
“Yeah, you two are in some big-time trouble now. They might even lock the both of you up for a while for fraud.”
“What’s fraud?” I asked timidly, finally able to speak again.
“Fraud means fooling people, playing a trick on them like you two have went and did.”
“We didn’t mean to do that,” I said.
“Ignorance of the law is no excuse,” continued the old man. “Now I’m going to have to figure out what to do with you two. You’ll have the whole town up here in my business. If y’all go back home, you’ll be telling everybody you see about this crazy old man that lives on the hill. I never will get any privacy again.”
“We won’t tell anyone, promise,” said Charlie.
“Yeah, promise,” I added.
“Well, you better not. That’s all I have to say.” With that he walked to the dresser, lit the lantern that was sitting on top of it, and laid the portable lantern he was holding beside it. He looked a little less frightening in the additional light. “I got one question: what made you two think to come up here to my place? I thought everybody had forgotten about this old place.”
“I came up here once with my dad,” said Charlie. “It seemed like it would be a good place to hide out for a while.”
“Why did your dad bring you up here? I must be living in Grand Central Station. I guess the whole town knows about it. Maybe I can sell tickets and make some extra money. I don’t understand why people don’t just mind their own business. You know, that’s what’s wrong with this world: people’s in everybody’s business. That’s why I like it up here, or at least I thought I did. I don’t get bothered by nobody—not until I found you two asleep in my bed. I guess it was good while it lasted. You two done stirred up a hornet’s nest now. “
“We won’t cause any trouble,” Charlie said.
“No, promise we won’t,” I added.
“It’s too late for that. You two caused trouble already just by coming up here. I just have to figure out how to fix it now. The whole town’s probably looking for you by now. I bet you’re some spoiled rich kids too. What’s y’alls names, anyway?”
“I’m Charlie and this is Brian,”
“What’s your last names?”
“I’m a Haynes,” I said.
“My last name is Caldwell,” said Charlie.
“Your daddy ain’t the one that owns the big two-thousand acre Caldwell dairy farm?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“They’ll have the President of the United States up here looking for you two. And I guess your grandfather is Murl Haynes from Haynes Auction and Realty?”
“That was his name, but he died. How’d you know?” I asked.
“Oh, I just figured. I still remember a little bit about the people around here. But you know, I haven’t been to town in five years. Most people probably think I’m dead, and that’s the way I like it. I just live off the land.
“How do you pay your bills?” asked Charlie. “My mom always has to go to town every month to pay bills.”
“What bills? I don’t have running water or electricity. Everything I own is paid for. About the only bill I ever have is for taxes, and I got a daughter that makes sure the taxes get paid. She don’t give a hoot about me, I guess, but she knows she’s got a big chunk of money coming to her if I ever kick the bucket.”
“How would she even know if you did kick the bucket?” asked Charlie.
“Her husband comes up here about once a month to check on me and bring me a few supplies I need. I know he looks forward to the day when he finds me up here purple and bloated, looking like a dead cow waiting for the wagon. I always have my gun handy in case that husband of hers gets in a hurry to get a hold of my money.”
“Don’t you ever get to see your daughter?” I asked.
“Oh, every once in a while she’ll make the trip up here.”
“That’s sad,” I said.
“Nobody asked you to be sad about it. She was raised by a mother that didn’t think it best for her to know her own father. I never even really talked to the girl until she was almost grown. And I don’t even know why I’m telling you two little weasels all of this.”
“I know why,” said Charlie.
“And why’s that?”
“It’s because you ain’t had anybody much to talk too for a long time. We don’t mind if you want to catch up on talking. Do we, Brian?”
“No, I don’t mind,”
“I don’t need nobody to talk to. I’ve been fine talking to myself all these years.”
“If you don’t need nobody to talk to,” said Charlie, “that must mean you need somebody to talk to. That’s a double negative. I learned that in school this year. My teacher gets after me for doing it all the time.”
“They teach y’all some crazy stuff in school these days.”
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“I guess I might as well tell you. I’ve done told you everything else. It’s Buford Miller.”
“Buford?” said Charlie and laughed out loud. I was horrified by Charlie’s laughter. I just knew Buford would get mad and start shooting.
“What’s funny?” asked Buford.
“Oh, nothing,” said Charlie, composing himself, realizing his mistake.
“So you think my names a big joke, do you?”
“No, I was thinking about something else that was funny.”
“Well, get out of my bed you little brats! Go sit in the kitchen until I can figure out if I need to shoot you or not.”
We got out of the bed and walked nervously into the kitchen. I wanted to kick Charlie for doing such a stupid thing. We sat down at the table and waited to hear our fate. My heart was pounding again. Buford walked into the kitchen carrying the lantern again. He sat the lantern on the table and walked over to the fireplace and lit another lantern on the mantle.
“Y’all just call me Mr. Miller,” he said. I felt a little better. If he was planning on killing us, why would he be worried about what we called him? “I like all the people I’m fixin’ to shoot to address me properly.” My heart sank again.
“Please don’t kill us,” said Charlie, starting to cry.
Mr. Miller laughed out loud and said, “Hell, I ain’t never killed nobody and don’t plan on it. But if you keep making fun of my name, I might think about starting a new hobby.”
I was so relieved I thought I’d faint.
“I think you’ve got a nice name,” said Charlie, no longer tearful.
“And I don’t like a damn liar either,” he said and sat down on the stone hearth. He emptied the bullets out of his gun and started wiping it down with a rag and oiling it. Charlie and I sat silent, not wanting to say anything to make him angry again. “I guess you two might as well stay here for a while until we can figure this thing out. It would be nice to have some help around here for a change. I may not look it, but I’m getting pretty old. I’ll have to show y’all what work needs doing around here. I don’t guess you two rich kids is used to doing any work.”
“I strip tobacco every year for my dad, and Brian helps.”
“Well, I guess y’all have done a little bit of work then. If you can work like that around here, I just might let you stay for a while. I mean, I wouldn’t want the law to get a hold of you and lock you up. That just
wouldn’t be right to have two good workers wasting away in jail waiting for the electric chair.
“Does anybody else know you’re up here?”
“Just Stephanie,” said Charlie.
“For Pete’s sake, I guess she’ll run all over town telling everybody.”
“No, she wouldn’t do that,” I said.
“She’s supposed to meet us in the morning up by the old truck,” said Charlie. “She’s going to buy us the supplies we need. I’ve got some money I got from my mom. You don’t have to worry about her. She’s real nice.”
“I guess you’ll have to go ahead and meet her. If you don’t she’ll get worried and tell somebody. But don’t say a word about me; that would blow the whole thing. And remind her not to tell anybody you’re up here. It might not be a bad idea to have somebody that can pick up some things in town for us. That sorry son-n-law of mine only gets up here about once a month. I’m clean out of supplies by the time he gets here. I just hope she ain’t somebody that likes to run her mouth all the time. That’s why you can’t tell her anything about me. If she does run her mouth, I don’t want my name in on it. They’ll think I kidnapped you or something. If I find out you did tell her about me, it’ll tick me off real bad. And you don’t want me mad. As far as she’s concerned, this is just an abandoned cabin that belonged to an old man that died a long time ago. If the police ever do find you two, you don’t know nothing about me, you hear?”
“We won’t say a word. Will we, Brian?”
“No, not a word,” I said.
“That settles it then,” said Mr. Miller. “We might make this thing work after all. I think you two boys will find that I’m not such a bad feller. Y’all just mind your manners and help do some work around here, and we might be friends. I always did kind of wish I’d had a son or two. Anyway, it’s been kind of lonely up here since old Bow died.”
“Who’s Bow?” I asked.
“Bow was my huntin’ dog. He lived a long time, seventeen years to be exact. That’s one hundred and nineteen in dog years. He kind of just laid around that last year, weren’t much good for huntin’ anymore.”
Chips of Red Paint Page 10