there."
"Lord have mercy. He say that child done died?"
B I L L y I 57
"Ah hear him say that. He smack Shorty and that what he say."
"Ya just go on home now, git in the house."
The Patch dogs started barking and running down to the road. Reverend Sims turned and went back up his steps and went into his house, then closed the door.
Sheriff Tom's car came back up the road, the dogs chased it until it stopped, then they barked around its doors until the sheriff pushed the door open and got out. The dogs sniffed a little and backed away, growling and whining. The children had vanished.
The sheriff came around the car, and stood there with his hands on his hips while he looked up at the rows of shacks, then started up one of the paths.
Jackson Bivens was a sturdy-built man, young man still in his twenties, lived down there next to the Patch Road with his wife and their three children. Saturdays were slow for him, he had done some chores and was just sitting and waiting on eatin time. His wife, Tammy, wasn't too far from havin the fourth mouth to feed and was trying to keep the children quiet. They both knew Sheriff Tom was in the Patch, and that young white child was dead.
Jackson Bivens jumped when he heard the heavy footsteps come up on his porch. He got up and went to the door quickly but was pushed back into his sittin room by Sheriff Tom as the sheriff busted into the house. Tammy grabbed for her children as they ran and clung to her side. The youngest started crying.
Sheriff Tom stood in the
"These here my children. These my children here," Jack son Bivens stammered.
Silence, except for the crying children and heavy breathin. The sheriff looks around the room, then mumbles, "Ya got two boys around here that killed a little girl. I want em, ya
hear?"
Out there behind the Patch, and behind Stony Mound, which wasn't nothin but a couple more shacks where some self keepin coloreds lived, was what folks called the Bad Land. Abou t the only thing the Bad Land was good for was raisin snakes and water rats. It was too muddy for planting and liv ing. Hafe swamp, the other hafe wasn't much more than clumps of hard mud with a few trees growing amidst them tall cattails. Bad Land had some zigzaggin little trails cutting through it, most of them led back to Stony Mound. Then that land between Stony Mou nd and the back of the Patch wasn ' t much better than the Bad Land. It didn ' t have all that water, just that thick muddy dirt. Its paths zigzagged around all through it, had to know just where you were, to gel wh ere you were gomg.
Billy and Gumpy knew the paths, and Gumpy k new which one would take him home, and that's th e one he was on. They had cut through the bushes by the tracks, come through them thi n trees over there and then crossed the Catfish Creek and zigged and zagged through the Bad Land, come arou nd them Stony Mound fields and into them muddy fields behind the Patch.
Gumpy's leaning forward in his walk, has his head down, bu t he's not thinking of no snakes. Billy's lagging behind, s t ops sometimes to see if Gumpy is going to stop, then runs
B I L L y I 59
a little bit to catch up when Gumpy keeps going. Billy looks ahead, past Gumpy, and knows home ain't that far. He can see them brown back shacks of the Patch.
"Hey, Gumpy," Billy shouts. Silence.
"Gumpy, Gumpy," Billy calls again. Silence.
"Hey, Gumpy, come on, wait up." "Naw," Gumpy shouts back.
"Come on, Gumpy, let's waits fore we's goes home," Billy shouts.
Silence.
"Ah goin home, Billy. Ah ain't playin wit ya no more, ya git us in troubles. Leave me be," Gumpy shouts but does not look back.
"Ya just scared, Gumpy, ya just scared of everything. Ya just a big old crybaby, ya older than me, ya twelves already, but ya still be fraids of
"Lord have mercy. He say that child done died?"
B I L L y I 57
"Ah hear him say that. He smack Shorty and that what he say."
"Ya just go on home now, git in the house."
The Patch dogs started barking and running down to the road. Reverend Sims turned and went back up his steps and went into his house, then closed the door.
Sheriff Tom's car came back up the road, the dogs chased it until it stopped, then they barked around its doors until the sheriff pushed the door open and got out. The dogs sniffed a little and backed away, growling and whining. The children had vanished.
The sheriff came around the car, and stood there with his hands on his hips while he looked up at the rows of shacks, then started up one of the paths.
Jackson Bivens was a sturdy-built man, young man still in his twenties, lived down there next to the Patch Road with his wife and their three children. Saturdays were slow for him, he had done some chores and was just sitting and waiting on eatin time. His wife, Tammy, wasn't too far from havin the fourth mouth to feed and was trying to keep the children quiet. They both knew Sheriff Tom was in the Patch, and that young white child was dead.
Jackson Bivens jumped when he heard the heavy footsteps come up on his porch. He got up and went to the door quickly but was pushed back into his sittin room by Sheriff Tom as the sheriff busted into the house. Tammy grabbed for her children as they ran and clung to her side. The youngest started crying.
Sheriff Tom stood in the
"These here my children. These my children here," Jack son Bivens stammered.
Silence, except for the crying children and heavy breathin. The sheriff looks around the room, then mumbles, "Ya got two boys around here that killed a little girl. I want em, ya
hear?"
Out there behind the Patch, and behind Stony Mound, which wasn't nothin but a couple more shacks where some self keepin coloreds lived, was what folks called the Bad Land. Abou t the only thing the Bad Land was good for was raisin snakes and water rats. It was too muddy for planting and liv ing. Hafe swamp, the other hafe wasn't much more than clumps of hard mud with a few trees growing amidst them tall cattails. Bad Land had some zigzaggin little trails cutting through it, most of them led back to Stony Mound. Then that land between Stony Mou nd and the back of the Patch wasn ' t much better than the Bad Land. It didn ' t have all that water, just that thick muddy dirt. Its paths zigzagged around all through it, had to know just where you were, to gel wh ere you were gomg.
Billy and Gumpy knew the paths, and Gumpy k new which one would take him home, and that's th e one he was on. They had cut through the bushes by the tracks, come through them thi n trees over there and then crossed the Catfish Creek and zigged and zagged through the Bad Land, come arou nd them Stony Mound fields and into them muddy fields behind the Patch.
Gumpy's leaning forward in his walk, has his head down, bu t he's not thinking of no snakes. Billy's lagging behind, s t ops sometimes to see if Gumpy is going to stop, then runs
B I L L y I 59
a little bit to catch up when Gumpy keeps going. Billy looks ahead, past Gumpy, and knows home ain't that far. He can see them brown back shacks of the Patch.
"Hey, Gumpy," Billy shouts. Silence.
"Gumpy, Gumpy," Billy calls again. Silence.
"Hey, Gumpy, come on, wait up." "Naw," Gumpy shouts back.
"Come on, Gumpy, let's waits fore we's goes home," Billy shouts.
Silence.
"Ah goin home, Billy. Ah ain't playin wit ya no more, ya git us in troubles. Leave me be," Gumpy shouts but does not look back.
"Ya just scared, Gumpy, ya just scared of everything. Ya just a big old crybaby, ya older than me, ya twelves already, but ya still be fraids of
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