Nobody Knows Your Secret

by Green, Jeri

  “I do that,” Hadley said, “don’t I?”

  “Yes, you do,” Maury said. “But as long as we’ve got food and gas in the car, I don’t worry too much.”

  “Oh, yes you do,” Hadley said. “I’ll bet you sit over in that passenger’s seat and pray we don’t have engine trouble or a flat tire.”

  “It never hurts to pray, dear sister,” Maury said.

  “I’ll see you in about 45 minutes,” Hadley said.

  When she pulled up to Maury’s house, her little sister was ready.

  “What kind of hat is that?” Hadley asked.

  “My new sun hat,” Maury said. “Like it?”

  Hadley looked at the multicolored mix of gaudy colors on her sister’s head. She didn’t want to hurt Maury’s feelings and tell her it looked like a crayon box had vomited on her head, so she said, “I’ll never lose you in a large crowd.”

  “I like it, too,” said Maury. “Got food?”

  “Plenty,” Hadley said. “And the tank’s full.”

  “Let’s go,” Maury said. “Got any specific place in mind?”

  “No where in particular,” Hadley said. “The plan’s to have a great time and be back before supper.”

  They drove through the mountains, ending up near the Kentucky and West Virginia side of the mountains. Hadley just took roads that struck her fancy.

  “Where are we?” Maury said, munching on a homemade double-Dutch chocolate chip cookie.

  “I have no idea,” Hadley said. “But isn’t this beautiful country.”

  “It is,” said Maury. “I’m glad you gassed up again a few miles back. You know, I love doing this. You and I have seen so much of this country just by taking off and meandering.”

  “And I could never find some of those places again if my life depended on it,” Hadley said.

  They drove on. Hadley twisted and turned down country mountain roads

  “This is a pretty rugged place, Hadley,” Maury said. “Do you think it’s safe for us to be gallivanting around this neck of the woods?”

  “We’ll try to backtrack and stop at that little town a few miles back. I thought I saw an interesting country store that might have just what I am looking for.”

  They successfully found their way back to a little town with a small sign that said ‘Lelandsville.’ When they pulled up to the store front, two gentlemen walked out.

  “Howdy,” Hadley said. “I see your sign in the window. Are y’all open for business?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Guy number one said.

  Maury looked at Hadley. She couldn’t be serious about going into that store. The two men looked like genetic mutations of inbreeding. Their heads were long rectangles. The ears were set low and set out at 90 degree angles from their scalp. Atop the tall forehead were patches of hand-sheared, thick, black hair. It stuck up all over like their fingers had been playing in the electrical sockets. Their brows were heavy, eyes dark like four obsidian pools. Their noses were thick and straight, and their lips were full.

  Their mouths were pasted to the bottom of their weak chins like an afterthought. Their necks were thickly corded with muscles, but their shoulders were small and sloping. They both stood a little over five feet. Their torsos were normal sizes, but their legs were short and stumpy. Stale works shirts, dirty jeans, and brogans completed their business attire. They stood on the porch, arms crossed. Their skin was dark and swarthy. The one next to Maury stood a few inches taller than his brother but only because his forehead stretched a couple of inches higher.

  They were frowning. Or maybe not. Perhaps, Maury thought, that is just the expressions they wear to face the world – a bit of confusion mixed with a disgruntled, not angry, but more suspicious attitude.

  Like looking into the mirror of The Twilight Zone. And there was Hadley Jane barging right into that shop without a moment’s hesitation.

  I wonder about that girl sometimes, Maury thought.

  “Mary Maureen!” Hadley yelled from deep inside the dark recesses of oblivion.

  No, thought Maury.

  “What,” Maury said, still standing on the front porch of the little shop staring the one zombie who remained on the porch.

  This one had yet to say one word. Maury wondered if he ever.

  “You’ve got to see this!” Hadley said, excitedly. “Their stuff is incredible!”

  Against her better judgment, Maury entered the dark shop. There was no electricity. The only light in the store was filtered through the dingy windows of the storefront. The place was packed with wonderful hats. Birdfeeders made from large cans wrapped in heavy twine hung from the rafters. Old hubcaps had been painted in bright reds, oranges, and pinks. Rods had been attached and beaten metal leaves painted green made unique garden ornaments. And chimes. There were chimes made from old bottle caps. Chimes of cut bottles with cut-glass clappers with a coiled metal insert that ingeniously held it all together. A stringed-spiral chandelier chime constructed of hundreds of skeleton, modern, and handmade keys. And some very suspiciously wicked ones made of spent bullet casings. The wooden sign holding the bullets read “Trespasser’s Reward.” Canning lids and silverware hung from spectacularly intricate designs. There were carvings and other metal work displayed throughout the store.

  “Look,” Hadley said, “here’s a wonderful silver bracelet curled and spiraled from a fork. It’s amazing!”

  Hadley couldn’t help but try it on.

  “Name’s Ronnie,” said the shorter man. “Runie’s my brother. We like to while away the time. Keep busy, you know. Don’t get much business out this far. But mebbe one day.”

  “I know a lady who runs a store where I live,” said Hadley. “She is always looking for talented craftsmen, and I think that you two certainly fit the bill. For a small percentage of your sales, she will display your products in her store. Her cut goes toward a refuge for injured wildlife that she operates. Would you fellows be interested in talking to her?”

  “I dunno,” Runie said. “Granny don’t like us to part with nuthin’ much.”

  “I see,” said Hadley. “Could you part with one of your chimes? I’d really love to own one. They are so unique. You men are truly artists.”

  “We won’t sell you nuthin’ but we can give you somethin’. Take yer pick,” Runie said.

  Taking her time, Hadley decided upon a beautiful chime with leaves and birds and tiny bells.

  “Here,” said Ronnie, handing Hadley a stone, “take this, too.”

  “What it is?” asked Maury.

  “A mad stone,” said Runie.

  Hadley thanked the men. She made sure she slipped some money in a tin can nailed to a porch rail on her way out.

  Once in the car, Maury asked, “How much did you put in that tin can, Sis?”

  “I was afraid to put anything less than three twenties,” Hadley said.

  Sixty bucks for a wind chime!” Maury said. “Ain’t that a bit steep?”

  “Not if I want their granny witch’s blessing on me,” said Hadley. “Besides, they threw in the mad stone.”

  Maury laughed.

  “I don’t think we’re likely to be bitten by a rabid animal, Hadley,” Maury said.

  “You never know,” said Hadley. “If I do, just moisten this baby in some warm milk and put it on my wound. This sucker will stick to the place and pull the ‘pizen’ right out.”

  “Really, you believe that,” Maury said.

  “No,” said Hadley, “but I gave them a donation in their tin cup, so they felt beholding to give me something in return. This mad stone’s gonna look nice on the sill of the window over my kitchen sink.”

  “Got any ideas where you gonna hang your chimes?” Maury asked.

  “Not a clue,” said Hadley. “I think I’ll call Skippy over and see if he can help me find just the right place.”

  “Why d’you pick those?” Maury asked.

  “Runie pointed them out,” Hadley said. “He whispered that he knew for a fact that their Grann
y had blessed these. She’s a granny witch, Maury. No spirits would dare come around when these make their music.”

  “Nice to know,” said Maury. “Kinda comforting.”

  “What would be even more comforting would be to find our way home without having to spend the night out in the boonies.”

  Hadley and Maury couldn’t explain it. Maybe the chimes were charmed. Anyway, they found there way home without too much delay. It was early afternoon when Hadley dropped Maury off and arrived home.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “Hey, Bill,” Hadley said, pulling behind Bill’s stalled sheriff’s car.

  “Broke down,” Bill said. “I’m waiting for Wallace to come give me a tow back to the station.”

  Just then, a call came over Bill’s radio, “Possible 10-100.”

  An address was given.

  “Oh, no,” said Bill. “Elwin and Wayman are stuck in court. They’re radios are off. This couldn’t happen at a worse time.”

  “What’s a 10-100?” Hadley asked.

  “Possible dead body,” Bill said.

  “Come on,” Hadley said. “I don’t own a siren, but the engine runs, and the tires roll.”

  “I’ll drive,” Bill said.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Hadley said, sliding over onto the passenger’s side of the car.

  The car went speeding down the road.

  Good thing I buckled up, Hadley thought. She looked over at Bill. His face wore a look of total concentration.

  He has to be completely focused, she thought, or we’d wind up in a ditch. How does he do this, day in and day out, she wondered. She had always respected her brother-in-law, had thought him a fine man, but her esteem for him jumped two-million-gazillion percent in just those few seconds.

  He didn’t make enough, Hadley thought. Not nearly enough.

  Hadley’s car flew down the back roads. Bill took a hard left at a dirt road with a rusting mailbox at its end.

  “The county will probably owe you a paint job after this,” Bill said, brush and limbs flicking off the speeding car.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Hadley said. “I was thinking of getting a newer model anyway.”

  “At this rate, you’ll be able to get about 50 cents for this trade-in,” Bill said, suddenly becoming silent as they neared a clearing with a small double-wide trailer nested among the grass.

  “Isn’t this Hardy Branwell’s place?” Hadley said. “It’s been years since I was here.”

  “Yeah,” Bill said, pulling up near the door. “Stay in the car.”

  The trailer door was swinging open. A very old man was standing outside in the yard. Bill walked up to him. They talked for a time.

  Bill disappeared inside the trailer. His gun had been drawn.

  Hadley felt like every nerve in her body had been lit with matches. She was on fire with curiosity and apprehension and fear.

  Bill stepped outside.

  It’s Hardy,” he said, flatly. “There’s a suicide note. The old man came around to see if Hardy wanted to sell an old truck Hardy kept out back. He saw Hardy take the gun and kill himself.”

  “How awful,” Hadley said.

  “Everything the old man says rings true. The trailer doesn’t look like it’s been cleaned in a month of Sundays. Note says he couldn’t go on.”

  “That’s it?” Hadley said.

  “Yeah,” Bill said. It’s just a handwritten note signed with Hardy’s name. All it says is ‘I can’t go on like this. Forgive me Candy. Dearest love.’”

  “Dearest love. Could be the last words of a father to a daughter or a lover.”

  “What are you talking about?” said Bill.

  “Nothing,” said Hadley. “Just thinking out loud.”

  She caught some movement out of the corner of her eye.

  “Look,” Hadley said, pointing to a break in the woods.

  The old man was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where’d that guy go?” Bill said. “I told him I needed to ask him some more questions. And who’s that?”

  Out of the woods, a second man was approaching. He was grizzled and ancient. His clothes were ragged and soiled. He was dressed in all in black, a hood and cloak covering him from head to foot. His eyes were cast down to the earth, but he made a straight path for the opened door of the trailer. Bill ran to stop the old man, but the sheriff stopped in his tracks.

  Hadley walked up to Bill who stood at the opened door looking in. Her eyes widen in surprise by what she witnessed. The ancient stood over Hardy’s body. Hardy was dressed in a pair of jeans and nothing else. His feet and torso were bare. The bullet had pierced his heart.

  The old man reached inside his tattered cloak and retrieved some cheese and bread. He stood over Hardy’s body, whispering something unintelligible. Hadley strained her hardest, but she could make out nothing but the old man’s last two sentences.

  “I give passage to thee now, dear one,” the stranger said. “And for thy worldly sins, I pawn my soul.”

  “Where in the heck did he come from?” Bill asked.

  The sin-eater finished. He walked to the door, refusing to acknowledge either Hadley or Bill. He walked right passed them. Bill and Hadley were helpless to stop him. The mystery man dressed in black disappeared into the woods.

  “I’ll bet that old man waiting outside the trailer knew this guy was coming,” said Hadley. “He’s a sin-eater.”

  “Sin-eater! I thought those guys were extinct,” said Bill.

  “There are still some pretty remote places in these hills,” Hadley said, thinking of Runie and Ronnie.

  “I’m not believing this,” Bill said. “When I tried to stop him, I dunno. I can’t explain it. It was like my feet were stuck to the ground. I couldn’t move.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Hadley said. “I was here. I am a witness, and I still don’t believe what I saw.”

  Sirens were wailing in the distance. Bill had managed to get a short message out for help before his radio went dead. It was just one more mystery added to a day full of them.

  “Bill,” said Hadley, suddenly. “Let me in there for one second.”

  “Are you crazy?” Bill said.

  “No,” said Hadley. “Walk right beside me. You’ll see I won’t touch anything. But I’ve got to see Hardy’s feet.”

  “His feet!” Bill said. “Hadley, you’ve lost it.”

  “No, I haven’t,” Hadley said, rushing past Bill before he could stop her.

  “There,” said Hadley. “Just as I suspected.”

  “You suspected what?” Bill said.

  “Syndactyly,” Hadley said.

  “Sin-what?” said Bill.

  “Webbed toes,” said Hadley. “That’s what this condition is called. It’s a birth defect. It never would have hit me, but this morning, Maury and I went on a gallivant. We ran into two of the most unusual brothers. They had to be inbred.”

  “What does that have to do with Hardy’s suicide?” Bill asked.

  “You’ll never be able to prove it,” Hadley said, “but I think that Hardy killed Kyle. Kyle has webbed toes. Just like Hardy’s.

  “I’ll bet if you took a cast of Hardy’s feet and Kyle’s, they’d look identical. And who else had those same webbed toes?”

  “Claire,” said Hadley. “I’ve seen her feet in sandals before. And Candy does, too.”

  “Now that you mention it, Kyle’s two kid’s feet are like that,” Bill said. “Those two kids are like savages. They were running around town last week. I told them to get some shoes on before they blistered their feet or stepped on a piece of glass or something.”

  “Inbreeding causes genetic defects,” Hadley said. “I just bet that those webbed toes point to the fact that Hardy is the father of Kyle. Now that I see him lying here, he looks relaxed. Younger. Look at him, Bill. He could be Kyle at Kyle’s age.”

  “I do see the resemblance,” Bill said.

  “Bill!” Hadley exclaimed. “That’s the motiv
e!”

  “What are you talking about?” Bill said.

  “We know that Claire was a loose woman,” Hadley said.

  “I don’t know, Hadley,” said Bill.

  “Of course you do. It’s common knowledge.” Hadley said. “Claire would sleep with any man who would give her money. What if Hardy is Kyle’s father?”

  “But Hardy is Candy’s father?” Bill said.

  “Exactly,” Hadley said. “Nobody could ever figure out why Candy left home so young. What if, and I’m only speculating here, what if Hardy was messing around with her.”

  “Hadley, you can’t go off and accuse folks of that kind of stuff,” Bill said.

  “But you’ve seen Hardy around Candy when she was young,” Hadley said. “He fawned all over her.”

  “What are you getting at?” Bill said.

  “Like I said,” Hadley said, “you’d never be able to prove any of this, but what if Hardy was jealous of Kyle. Kyle was his son. Candy was his daughter. They’ve had two kids together. Kyle treated Candy horribly. She’s worked to the bone, but she still stayed with the bum. But what if Hardy couldn’t take it any more? You know, Hardy snapped and shot Kyle as he slept.”

  “I don’t know,” said Bill.

  “Of course, you do,” said Hadley. “It all fits. The pieces of the puzzle fit perfectly if you think about it.”

  “Promise me you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone,” said Bill.

  “You have my word,” said Hadley. “When you think about it, that sin-eater’s appearance was timed perfectly. I think Hardy sent for him. He couldn’t live with the guilt of killing Kyle, and he realized he’d never get Candy back.”

  “Do you think Hardy knew Kyle was his son?” Bill asked.

  “Maybe he suspected it. Maybe not. I think he was blinded by his love for Candy. Candy was Hardy’s Achilles’ heel.”

  “That’s some theory,” Bill said. “Whether it’s true or not.”

  “I know,” said Hadley.

  “Well,” Bill said, “Let’s me and you get out of this trailer before the cavalry get here. I sure as heck don’t want to have to explain what we just witnessed to anyone.”