by Dan Arnold
There were several cars and pickup trucks parked in the area.
More interesting was the group of people milling about.
There were half a dozen young black men shooting hoops on a make shift dirt basketball court. They varied in age from about twelve to about twenty. Watching from porches and leaning against cars and trucks, there were another eight or ten older people, mostly men with an old woman to be seen here or there.
The young men ignored me as I drove up, but three of the older men were clearly there to meet me. I was relieved to see there were no guns in evidence.
I parked my car near the row of mailboxes attached to a steel post and took a moment to assess the situation.
It kind of looked as though I had driven up to a family reunion, without the food and fun. Also, unlike a family reunion, there were no young women or young children anywhere to be seen. In fact, other than the basketball players, there was not anyone in evidence between the age of about twenty and sixty.
I stepped out of the car and approached the three older men who were waiting for me.
“Good morning. I’m John Wesley Tucker. I believe Diondro Taylor is expecting me…” I reached out to shake hands with the first man in the group.
It was like taking hold of a dead fish. A warm dead fish, but lifeless and limp, all the same. It was the same way with each of the three men, and not one of them would look me in the eye.
They might have been brothers and I suspected they probably were. Each man was about five feet nine inches tall and had the hard, stringy look of men who have lived their lives outdoors. They were black men with heads in various stages of balding, the remaining hair now white and close cropped. They each had a little facial hair in evidence. One had side-burns another had two patches of white beard, growing on each side of his chin. The oldest man had a white mustache and a soul patch. All three wore overalls, over faded T-shirts. They had the look of farmers. These were old men who had seen the world change a lot, since they had been boys back in the nineteen forties or fifties,
The oldest man spoke up. He appeared to be about 80, but he could have been older or younger.
“Uh huh. He be ‘long, directly. He my sister’s-daughter’s, boy. You come on inside.”
I was wearing a long sleeve camouflage shirt; it was too warm to be comfortable in it.
“Yes sir, thank you. I believe the day is starting to heat up already.”
He turned without reply and led me up onto the porch of the nearest house, as the two other men fell in behind me.
The house we stepped into was not the same house inside, as it was outside. Outside it was faded and warped lumber with peeling paint. Inside, it was clean and tidy, freshly painted and had all the latest updates. There were new appliances evident in the kitchen, the furniture was tasteful and expensive, and there was a big screen TV, playing loudly in a giant entertainment center that took up a whole wall. There was a ceiling fan circulating the cool air from the air conditioner.
“Sit,” the older man said, pointing at a huge, brown leather couch.
He sat down in a big, matching recliner and began to rock. The other two men stood just inside the door.
I sat on the couch, as I had been directed to do. The blaring TV was annoying.
The old man sat and rocked and studied me for a few moments. Then he spoke.
“Why you here?”
“Diondro asked me to come and talk to him.”
“Hmm hmmm. Why you don’t leave him be?”
“Do you know what happened in Tyler?”
“I knows all bout that. That’s Tyler, not here. I axed you why you here?”
“Could we turn off the TV?”
He stared at me, but he wouldn’t look me in the eye. After a moment, he picked up the remote and turned the television off.
“You is trouble. You a cop?”
“No, I’m not a cop and Diondro is not in any trouble.”
“He say different.”
I nodded.
“He isn’t in any trouble with the law, but there are some people looking for him to do him harm. I’m just trying to help him.”
He studied me some more, with eyes that drooped and seemed watery. He still managed to avoid eye contact.
“We don’t need no troubles.”
“No sir, but I think having Diondro here will bring you trouble.”
He closed his eyes and rocked for a moment. Then he nodded.
“It brought you here, you is trouble, sho nuff.”
He opened his eyes and looked toward the door.
“Go fetch Diondro.”
Ten
When Diondro Taylor entered the living room, I recognized him as being one of the boys who had been playing basketball on the hard packed dirt of the yard out front. He was about six feet tall and he had some short dreadlocks, just starting.
I stood to greet him.
“Diondro, I’m John Wesley Tucker.”
We shook hands. Diondro’s handshake was firm and he looked me in the eye.
“Pleased to meet you, sir, thank you for coming out here.”
We both sat down on opposite ends of the couch.
“I’ll get right to the point. As you know, I have been hired to find you and tell you the Sawyer’s intend to provide up to four years of college tuition for you, to any school where you can gain admittance. In addition, I’m prepared to provide you with protection from the people who seek to do you harm, until this matter is resolved. Do you have any questions?”
“Well, uh, yeah. How is it gonna get resolved? I mean these guys are out to get me, if I go back to Tyler. So, what will change that?”
I nodded. It was a good question.
“You are in danger, right here, right now. By now they have found out where you’re hiding, more or less the same way I did. I believe they have sent someone to kill you, here in Arkansas.”
The old man made a face when he heard me say that.
Diondro started to speak, but I held up my hand to stop him.
“We need to move you right away. I can keep you safe. I also have a plan to put a stop to this. Once Isaac Washington gets put away, some of the incentive to harm you will be gone. I intend to remove any further incentive once he gets sentenced.”
Diondro considered his options for a moment.
“OK, but where will you take me?”
“Where would you like to go?”
“I want to go home.”
“You can and you will, eventually. In the meantime where would you like to go?”
“I want to go back and testify against the punk. If I do, can you keep me safe?”
I realized Diondro was asking me these questions for the benefit of the three men, who were watching, especially the old man in charge.
I nodded.
“Yes, I can and I will. I have some resources available to ensure that outcome.”
Diondro looked over at the old man.
“What do you think, Uncle Andrew?”
Diondro’s Great Uncle Andrew considered it for a moment.
“You most a man now. You gots to do what you gots to do. We be tryin’ to keep you safe, but…”
“But you are not equipped to deal with hired killers.” I interjected.
“Yassah, that’s a part.”
I looked at Diondro.
“Diondro, how did you get up here? Do you have a car?”
“No sir, I took the bus to Texarkana and Uncle Andrew picked me up and brought me over here.”
“Go pack a bag. We are leaving right now.”
“I’m packed. I’ll go get my bag.”
When he had left the room, I faced the old man.
“Another part of the problem is you have a marijuana farming operation going here, and you don’t want a lot of attention brought out to the farm.”
Andrew jumped, startled at my remark. “Where you hear that at?” The old man asked.
“What were you thinking? The feds are going to s
woop in here and wipe you out. Some of you, maybe even everyone in this family, will go to prison.”
“I axed you, how you know ‘bout that?”
“I know about it. The Columbia County Sheriff knows about it, and pretty soon everyone in this part of the country will know all about it. Why did you do this?”
The old man shook his head.
“I knowed it was wrong to do.”
“Then... why?” Diondro asked, coming back into the room. He had overheard part of the conversation.
“We is poor, Diondro. We needs things. Johnny come down from Detroit. He July’s boy…” he nodded toward one of the men by the door.“… and he say we ought to do this. He say he got contacts up there. He move what we grow.” Last year we just grew a little, maybe an acre all together and he sold it. This year we be growing more. We don’t like it, but… we is poor.”
I looked the old man in the eye.
“Let me guess… Johnny is up in Detroit, right?”
“Hmm hmmm, that’s right.”
“So, he won’t be here when the feds kick down your door.”
The old man shrugged.
“And Johnny won’t be going to prison with you, unless they can catch him in the act of distribution. Now let me ask you this… Does Johnny sell the weed and then send you a portion of the proceeds?”
“Hmm hmmm.”
“So you grow it, harvest it and transport it to Detroit?”
He nodded.
“Do you take it to Johnny?”
“Naw, sir. He got a storage building up there, where we leave it at.”
“You don’t even see Johnny?”
“We sees him, sometimes.”
I shook my head.
“Let me tell you this; you’ve got one chance. Destroy the crop, right away. Go to the Sheriff and tell him the whole story. Invite him to come out here and inspect the property. Promise him it won’t happen again and give him permission to inspect, anytime he wants to. That’s your only hope. Good bye, sir.”
The old man just shrugged again.
Diondro and I walked out to my car.
Most of the people who had been outside had wandered away.
Just as we started to get into the rental car, the radio in my shirt pocket crackled.
“Live Screw to Old Mother, come in Mother.”
I pulled the short range radio from my pocket.
“Old Mother, go Live Screw.”
“Bug out. I repeat, bug out.”
“Roger that, Live Screw. Bug out now. Go to Plan Baker, repeat Plan Baker. Old Mother out.”
“Roger that, Old Mother. Plan Baker. Live Screw out.”
Eleven
I grabbed Diondro’s bag and pushed him toward the house.
“Go back in the house, go right now.”
“Is it them federals coming?” The old man asked, from the front porch.
“No, it’s someone coming for Diondro.”
We heard gunfire coming from somewhere up the road.
The people who were still outside the house were all staring up toward where the sound of gunshots had come. We heard the sound of crunching metal from the same direction.
“Run!” I yelled. “Get out of sight; the shooters are coming on down here.”
My announcement sent everyone running for cover.
I dashed to the trunk of the rental car and grabbed Buddy’s Mossberg 12 gauge pump shotgun and a field pack, with a dark camouflage pattern. I dropped Diondro’s bag into the trunk and slammed it shut.
As I sprinted toward the house, I saw a car hurtling down the road toward us, in a cloud of dust.
As I flew through the door of the house, the car was slewing to a stop.
Inside, I found the house was becoming an armed camp. Each of the old men now held a rifle or a shotgun.
I took a quick look out the window and saw four swarthy men with AK rifles and handguns getting out of the car.
I smashed the front window with the barrel of the Mossberg and blasted two quick shots over the top of the car. The men dived out of site behind the various vehicles still parked out front.
“Y’all need to just get back in your car and go away. The police will be here soon and you’ll be trapped between us and them. If you don’t leave now, some of you will die here today.”
“Oh, si eso es cierto, but it will be you who will die, hombre. Send out the boy and we will take him and go away, maybe.” The man spoke with a heavy Spanish accent.
I turned to the old man.
“They didn’t plan on confronting armed resistance, but they aren’t going to leave. They’ll surround the house and shoot it to pieces. We need to clear out. If they plan to get away, they know that they have no more than five minutes to finish the job. The cops will be here in fifteen or twenty minutes.”
I pointed toward the back of the building.
“Diondro, we’re going out the back. Those men will need about one minute to plan how to get into position around the house. By then, we’d better be back in the woods.”
I looked at Andrew.
“You need to get out of this house. I’ll try to draw their fire and get them to follow us into the woods, but I don’t know what will happen after that. If we lose them, they may come back here.”
The old man nodded.
“Y’all git. We’ll be alright. Stay away from them dope fields, we got guards there. They shoot you too, if they see you.”
Diondro and I went through the kitchen and the utility room, out onto a screened porch at the back of the house. From there we could see a shed right behind the house and beyond it the tree line, like the edge of a jungle.
“Diondro, we’re headed for the bayou. You take off at a dead run and don’t look back. Get into the trees and whatever happens, stay low and keep moving. Wait for me at the edge of the water.”
He looked scared, but he nodded.
I keyed the radio.
“Old Mother to Live Screw, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, extraction point, Delta. Over…”
“Live Screw to Old Mother, roger that, Plan Charlie, extraction point Delta.”
I pushed Diondro ahead, and we both ran down the steps and out into the little yard behind the house. Diondro sprinted straight for the trees, but I took a moment to sling the pack over my shoulders and edge around the back corner of the house.
Sure enough, two of the gunmen, taking advantage of all available cover, were working their way off to this side of the house. They were running bent low and were not in a position to fire. They saw me just as I leveled the Mossberg at them. They both dived in opposite directions, and I didn’t get a clear shot, so I took off running toward the trees.
Automatic AK 47 rifle shots hammered behind me and bark flew in my face, as I dove for cover in the brush under the trees.
“Hey! The cops will be here in a minute. You boys can’t shoot worth a damn. Don’t you think you should go? ”
“Oh yes, we go, after we kill you and the boy.” The man speaking with the Spanish accent was the same man who had spoken before.
There was the sound of breaking glass from the side of the house and a shotgun barrel emerged through the shattered window.
The men opened fire on the house, just as the shotgun fired.
I took the opportunity to head for the bayou.
From up the road, the sound of an approaching siren could be heard. I figured it had to be Buddy, coming to the rescue. It had not been part of the plan. He would be driving right into a fire fight. The four assassins would feel trapped and desperate.
I didn’t like it, but my duty was to protect Diondro and get him to safety. Live Screw would know how to take care of himself.
As I ran through the strip of forest, I heard the chatter of an AR 15 and AK assault rifles, mixed with the occasional shotgun blast. I hoped Santa Clause A/K/A Live Screw, was bringing these gunmen some of his presents. It was a wide open gun battle
I found Diondro at the edge of the water. I pulle
d a couple of camouflage boonie caps out of the pack and handed one to Diondro along with a camo T-shirt, indicating he should put it on over the sweaty white T-shirt he was wearing.
“In we go...” I said.
I started to wade out into the bayou.
“What? No sir! I’m not going in there. I can’t swim.”
“OK. The water is probably no more than chest deep on me, anywhere along here. On you it’s only a little more than waist deep, shallower in most places. We won’t have to swim. We’ll just wade through it.”
“Do we have to wade across it?”
“No, we’re going to wade downstream toward the bridge on the county road.”
“What? Why?”
It sounded like the gunfire was drawing nearer to us, as the gunmen fell back from the house, toward the bayou, firing at Buddy or whoever was shooting at them.
“They’ll be on us any minute now, Diondro. Just shut up and follow my lead.”
I set off into the water and began wading downstream, moving as fast as I could, while feeling along the bottom carefully for fallen timber, pot holes, beaver cuts or anything else that might ruin the day. When I looked back at Diondro, his eyes were huge but he was right behind me. I was holding my shotgun up out of the water and had turned to speak to Diondro, when I saw movement near where we had gone into the bayou. We had only gone about twenty five yards downstream, but we were in the shade and near the knees of a big old Cypress tree
I held my finger up to get Diondro’s attention and pointed back upstream. Diondro slowly turned and looked. A figure emerged from the reeds at the edge of the bayou. He looked across and then up-stream.
Diondro looked back at me and I slowly sank down in the water till just my eyes, boonie cap, and shotgun were above the waterline. Diondro sank down too, staring at me in terror. I was watching the gunman, down the barrel of the Mossberg.
The man was agitated and he barely even glanced down- stream. He didn’t see us. He pushed out into the bayou and struggled to hurry across, constantly turning to look behind him, splashing and sloshing water everywhere. Ten seconds later he was lost to view as he crawled up the bank on the other side.