And you was laughen Hunter says from behind his carven.
You damn right I was too my daddy says. I was laughen like a son of a bitch he says and he wheels and heads off into the woods after the tree that fell on him. As he goes, me and Hunter can hear him in the woods there, laughen and laughen about the whiteface that went through the ice in the middle of the river.
Them cattle showed up as far down the river as Teaberry Hunter says after my daddy is gone.
Drownded I ask.
Dead as hammers he says. You bet.
About halfway down the mountain a pig runs across the right of way just a couple feet in front of me. Scares the bejesus out of me, cutten out of the brush on one side and nearly steps on me goen past. It gets stuck for a second goen across the rails and I see that it is young, just a little spotted sucklen and haven a hard time of it. It is whinen a little as it gets over the belly-high steel rails, tail twitchen like a dog's. When it gets over the far rail it turns toward me a second and its eyes are rolled way back in its head. Then it gets into the brush on the other side of the right of way and it's gone.
Two boys come out of the brush after it and they are right on top of me too. Christ one of them says and shoves at me. He is not very big and I knock him down with my kit. The other is big and red-haired and carryen a rifle. He rushes across the right of way and stares into the brush. Goddam it to hell he says.
He raises the rifle, pointen into the brush after the sucklen, and I think for a minute that he is goen to let go. Then I realize the pig must be in under cover now and he'd be a fool to shoot. Still his finger curves on the trigger a second, tugs and almost fires.
It is a short-barrelled Winchester carbine that he is carryen with a shrouded front sight for brush-beaten. The stock is wrapped around with black electric tape and there is rust all on the receiver. They are rough-looken boys. The big one is about my age and the little one some younger I figure.
The big red-headed one turns around to me and his eyes are cold. I figure he is mad because they lost the pig that they had been tracken. He drops the hammer back into half-cock, holds the rifle easy in the crook of his arm. His clothes are dirty and too small on his big frame.
Le's get a move on Okie the little one says. His teeth are gone rotten on him and make him talk odd, real soft like his mouth pains him. He says mebbe we can still get us that 'ere pig.
You hush Darius the big one says and he is still looken at me. It makes me nervous and I turn to head on down the cinder roadbed. The cinders are soft with the rain. They stick to the bottoms of my shoes, make my feet feel heavy. It is hard to walk on the railroad ties though, because they are too close together to make for an easy stride.
When I look back the big one, Okie, is still staren at me from under the long red hair. He licks his lips.
Hold up there a minute he says.
The little one trots after me a couple steps and I see there is somethen wrong with his legs, how they are too short for the rest of his body is what makes him so small. He is mebbe not so young as I first thought, mebbe older than me or Okie too. The ties are just right for him and he moves from one to the next without any trouble at all. Okie stays where he is.
We lost that ere shoat Darius says and he sounds like on the edge of cryen about it. You seen it he says.
Darius is right up on me now where I can smell him and I stop.
You boys want to let me alone I say. I ain' botheren you none.
Who says you was Okie calls out.
He's got the rifle pointen up at the gray sky now, held in both hands. He spits on the cinders, got a pinch of snuff in the right side of his mouth. He comes down the track a way, smilen, and I see his teeth are gone bad on him too. The snuff'll do that to you in time.
What you got Darius is sayen and I catch him looken at my kit. He's got his hands out like a kid asken for a candy. I drop the bag, push it back behind me. Darius is hoppen back and forth from one railroad tie to the other. He's got mud to the knee on his old corduroy pants, but it seems like he don' want to touch foot down on the roadbed.
He don' want you messen with his stuff Okie says to Darius. It is like a man talken to a kid.
He looks at me. You headen down into town he says. You live up on the mountain? He points back up the way I came with the carbine.
Yeah I say.
He looks at Darius and snorts, spits again. Goddam ridge runner he says. Come down from up on top and don' know nothen. Darius laughs.
* * *
What you want to go into town for, ridge runner? Okie says. He pokes the rifle barrel into my chest real sudden. It clunks against my ribs and hurts like a son of a bitch. I can hear Darius goen in my kit but I don' look.
Ain' nothen for you in town, boy Okie says. Best you go on back up the mountain and stay with the rest of the runners.
Just take the whole fucken thing Darius he says, ain' no use to go rooten through there. It don' stop Darius. Okie turns back to me.
You turn out your pockets he says and he taps me with the rifle again. We could do you he says. Kill you just as easy as killen that shoat and nobody to know any differ'nt about it. Who'd care what happens to a ridge runner like you anyhow.
I know I say. We're about fifteen hunnerd feet above the valley and I figure he is right.
You turn out your pockets and keep your mouth shut and you be all right Okie says. Darius is goen through my stuff still and I can hear the Colt clink against somethen. I hate to think of these two with it but there is nothen to do about it. I wish I had left the thing with Hunter.
My daddy's dead I say. I don' know why I say it.
Looky here Darius says and holds up the Barlow knife. He has got it open and the blade looks shiny even under the cloudy sky. He tests it against his hairy forearm. Sharp he says. Okie holds the rifle on me but he is looken off somewheres else, after where the pig went. I dig in after the money I got in my pockets.
Tree fell on him I say. When he was cutten it down.
Okie takes the six dollars from me, shoves it in his pants. I think about what a 30-30 could do to you this close up. I seen one take the whole hind end off a groundhog one time at about two hunnerd yards, just tore it off and threw the 'hog about ten feet. I hold out the arrowhead to him, turn out my pockets so's he can . see they ain' nothen in them. He takes he arrowhead, holds it out from him with his left hand, squinten. He knows I ain' goen to give him any trouble.
Leave me some to get a pack of smokes down to the valley I say. And a bottle for my uncle.
Shoot Okie says. He tosses the arrowhead back over his shoulder. It hits the smooth steel rail and gives out a pretty sound, like a note on my daddy's old jew harp. The flint busts into about twenty pieces.
That was a pretty old arrowhead I say. I don' know how old it was but I want to say somethen.
Gimme his shoes Darius says.
He's standen and looken at my feet. His shoes look like bags tied with string or somethen. Mine ain' much but they are better than that, an old pair of sneakers that was my daddy's.
His shoes ain' about to fit you, clubfoot Okie says. Darius is bouncen up and down, still standen on a railroad tie. He's got my kit in his hand. He just looks at Okie and sticks his lip out. He is retarded some I see.
Get out your shoes Okie says. He seems like he is tired of the whole thing now. Just go on and get on out of them he says. He ain' even holden the rifle on me now.
I take my shoes off and hand them to Darius. He don' even try to put them on. He just stuffs them in the kit and laughs, sound like a dog barken. The roadbed is cold with the rain and the cinders stick to the soles of my feet, stain them black.
Darius goes to the edge of the right of way, looks off into the brush. Le's see can we get that pig now Okie he says. He goes off into the brush carryen my kit with him. After a minute I can' see him anymore, just hear him crashen around in there.
Okie looks me up and down and his eyes are still hard. The smell of him that close up is gr
easy, like somethen fat cooked on an open fire.
You go back on up he says. That's best for ridge runners, the top of the mountain.
I'm headed into town I say.
He looks mad at me and I think for a minute he may shoot me, but he don' even bring the gun around to bear. He looks at me some more, then heads on into the brush after Darius.
I wait a minute to see if they're comen back but they're both gone. No use tryen to follow them into the brush with no shoes. I start down the right of way again, on into the valley. The walken is easier without my kit. The rain has started up again, lighter this time. It don' feel like the kind of a rain that goes on for too long.
The cinders make my feet sore and black. I walk that way for a while, then change to walken on the ties. It is strange the small steps you have to take, but easier than stretchen to skip a tie every time. I get used to it.
When we find my daddy he's been dead for quite a while. The tree just caught him across the chest with one thick branch. He must of been on his way to dodge the fall when it caught him. His face looks surprised; his body don' look like anythen I ever seen before, all a different shape from what it was, crushed ribs and tore cloth, somethen terrible to look at. Hunter covers him with a good thick tarpaulin right after we jack the tree up off of him and I don' have a chance to look at him after that. We bury the tarpaulin along with him.
The loggen saw's down on the ground next to him. It didn' get caught by the tree at all, looks just like it had when he walked out with it. All the gas in it ain' gone so it must of stalled after he got hit. Hunter and me talk about it but can never figure what it was about that old oak that made it fall the wrong way or why my daddy didn' figure how it was goen to come down. He must of made the cut wrong somehow and just not seen his mistake until it was too late.
Lot of folks lost everthen says the man who owns the drugstore. He is a heavy man wearen a white apron tied behind his back. Houses, stock, barns, the whole kitten caboodle down the river and on into Monroe County. He is talken to a skinny man in overalls who nods.
You betcha the drugstore man says. We awful lucky to be this high up. He is sweepen at a puddle of water near the door of his store, pushen the water out into the street. He wears glasses and the glass flashes as he moves his head in time with the broom. The bristles of the broom have soaked up a lot of the dirty water and he works like they are heavy.
The town is quiet, like it's a Sunday, and the streets are wet from the rain. When I walk in the store the men look at me. They see I got no shoes on.
Sucked the pilens right out from under the bridge the drugstore man says. Craziest thing you ever saw. Help you he says to me. I got no money so I don' say anythen back.
The Dodge dealership down to the river the skinny man says. You know, Sims'. Say the cars was floaten up near around the ceilen. Water came in so fast nobody had time to move nothen. Earth dam couple miles up let go and that was all she wrote.
Don' I know the drugstore man says. He sweeps some water past my feet, looks at me again. You need somethen he says.
I was looken for some smokes I say. Cigarettes.
We got them the drugstore man says. All kinds. What was you looken for?
Camels I say.
It's a bunch of miles down the mountain and I feel tired, sick. I want to sit down and have a smoke. I wish I had some money. My feet hurt.
Yo Carl the drugstore man says. You want to go in there back of the counter and get a pack of Camels for me.
Sure the skinny man says. He gets the cigarettes and tosses them to me. I catch them against my chest and the pack crushes a little.
I got no money I say.
The drugstore man stops sweepen a minute. Some of the water he just got out the door trickles back in. It's dirty river water, brown on the white floor.
Day like today I guess that's all right he says. He grins at me and I know how dirty I am. I know how I look. He figures I got wiped out by the flood.
My daddy's dead I say.
The drugstore owner shakes his head.
What a day Carl says behind the counter. He shakes his head too, snags himself a pack of smokes. What a day. I don' tell them that my daddy was dead before the rain even started.
That's hard son the drugstore man says. Awful goddam hard.
You got to wonder what the Lord is up to the skinny man says. Leave a boy 'thout a father.
I figure that is the nicest thing I ever heard. All I want to do right then is sit down and cry. I tear the wrap off the pack of cigarettes and the drugstore man hands me his lighter, a plastic Cricket. Coleman's Since 1942 it says on the side, the name of his drugstore. I turn the striken wheel with my thumb and the lighter catches, sends up a good strong flame the very first time.
I suck in the smoke and the third cigarette tastes just as good as the first. There is nothen like a butt that somebody else has rolled in a machine for you and that don' leave pieces of tobacco on your tongue.
I sit out near the end of the bridge that must of used to connected the two parts of the town across the river. It was an old steel bridge that sat up on stone pilens, and the drugstore man was right: the supports are clean gone and the span is down by the middle in the dark rushen river. Right near where I sit there's a sign that says Weight Limit 2 Tons.
I pull on the cigarette until it burns down near my fingers. I seen men that smoked so much they built up yellow callus on their thumb and pointer finger, could burn a smoke all the way down if they wanted to and never feel it at all. I can' do that and besides I got a whole pack yet to go. No use to be hard on myself. I flick the butt into the river and it is gone in the fast water almost even before I see it hit.
I have heard that in floods you will sometimes see animals and trees that got caught in the water goen downstream. I have not seen any by this time and figure they must all of been pushed down the river right at first when the water was highest. There probably won' be any again until the next time the river rises.
It is starten the hard rain again, not just the soft drizzle now, and I have to shield the fourth cigarette against the water to get it to light. The lighter catches the first try. I figure the cigarette will burn pretty well in the rain once I manage to start it goen. I am wet again but this time it is not so pleasant as it was this mornen. This time it is just cold and nasty. I ain' sure what I will do. It is sure as hell I won' go back up the mountain.
After a while I may go up the river and look for the earth dam that let go and did all the damage. It must look pretty awful, busted open in the middle and oozen the river water over the lip of the hole, brown and thick with bottom mud. Not like the creeks up on the mountain but a real river and comen through just the way it wants with nothen to hold it back. Yessir, that would sure be somethen to see.
The Oxford Book of American Short Stories Page 88