some grandkids.’
‘I
gotta take care’a my dog…’ Reese said. He turned to go
back into the house.
‘Reese!’
Mouse shouted as he jumped to his feet.
The older
man stopped. Without turning he said, ‘I don’t take to
folks raisin’ they voice t’me out on my farm, an’ I
don’t take t’folks comin’ out an’ hurtin’
my dogs. So I guess you better go back to wherever you come from or
I’ma go get my gun an’…’
‘I
come fo’my part’a Momma’s dowry, Reese,’
Mouse said. ‘I know she had some jewelry an’ some money
from her folks when you two got married an’ you leased land
wit’ it. I know you got money out here now, an’ I want
some for my own weddin’. It’s mines, Reese, an’ I
want it.’
The last
three words turned Reese around.
I fell
back a step while he and Mouse faced off.
‘You
ain’t got the right t’say her name, boy. She up ev’ry
night worried ‘bout you an’ who knows what you doin’,
or where? She worried herself sick an’ then she died an’
who you think brought it on?’ There were tears in Reese’s
eyes. ‘She died askin’ fo’you. It broke my heart,
an’ where was you? You weren’t nowhere. Nowhere. An’
my girl layin’ in that bed all yellah an’ sick ‘cause
she so worried ‘bout a rotten chile like you…’
‘What
good it gonna do, huh?’ Mouse shouted. ‘I’s barely
a teenager an’ you come after me wit’ sticks an’
fists. What good it gonna do her t’see you beat me?’
‘You
was a rotten boy, Raymond, an’ you’s a rotten man. You
kilt her an’ now you want my money, but I see you dead fo’
I give up a dime.’
‘I
kilt’er? You the one. You the one ravin’ ‘bout how
yo’ boy so good an’ how I ain’t even legal. You the
one beat on her an’ beat on me which hurt her even more cause
my momma was a good woman an’ you is the devil! The devil, you
hear?’ Mouse reached in the back of his pants for the second
time that day. He pulled out that long-barrelled .41 and blasted that
poor shivering dog. Then he shot the other three: crack, crack,
crack; like ducks in an arcade. Reese hit the ground thinking that
Mouse was gunning for him.
‘I’ma
have what’s mines,’ Mouse said as he brought the bead
down on Reese.
‘You
can kill me an’ you can take my soul but I ain’t gonna
give you a drop’a what’s mine!’
‘Raymond!’
I shouted. ‘Let it go, man! You cain’t get nuthin’
like this. Let it go.’
Mouse
lifted the barrel a hair and shot over Reese’s head, then he
turned to me and said, ‘We better get outta here.’
We went
fast down the way we had come.
Half a
mile down, Mouse stopped and pulled the baby doll from his jacket. He
took out a string and tied it roughly around the doll’s neck
and then he hung the doll from a branch so that it dangled down over
the centre of the road.
‘He
gonna come down here with that shotgun but you know he gonna be
stopped by this,’ Mouse said loudly, to himself.
We took so
many turns and shortcuts that I was lost. I think Mouse was lost too,
because when it started getting dark he said, ‘We cain’t
get nowhere’s good t’night, Ease. We better find some
shelter.’
Nothing
could’ve sounded worse to me. When we were running I’d
started coughing and it wouldn’t go away. I was feverish and
dizzy and I wanted my bed and my room in Houston more than anything.
‘Ain’t
they noplace?’
‘Uh-uh,
Ease. Anyway, I want to go to ground. Reese is good at night.’
He left me
to rest next to a dead oak and went out looking for shelter. While I
sat there, beginning to fade into my fever, I saw a barn owl glide
through the low branches. It moved fast and silent and it never hit a
twig, it was so sure. I thought to myself that some rabbit was going
to die that night, then I started to shake; whether it was from the
fear of mortality or chills I didn’t know.
‘There’s
a lea some hunter musta used just a ways down, Ease,’ Mouse
said when
‘I
gotta take care’a my dog…’ Reese said. He turned to go
back into the house.
‘Reese!’
Mouse shouted as he jumped to his feet.
The older
man stopped. Without turning he said, ‘I don’t take to
folks raisin’ they voice t’me out on my farm, an’ I
don’t take t’folks comin’ out an’ hurtin’
my dogs. So I guess you better go back to wherever you come from or
I’ma go get my gun an’…’
‘I
come fo’my part’a Momma’s dowry, Reese,’
Mouse said. ‘I know she had some jewelry an’ some money
from her folks when you two got married an’ you leased land
wit’ it. I know you got money out here now, an’ I want
some for my own weddin’. It’s mines, Reese, an’ I
want it.’
The last
three words turned Reese around.
I fell
back a step while he and Mouse faced off.
‘You
ain’t got the right t’say her name, boy. She up ev’ry
night worried ‘bout you an’ who knows what you doin’,
or where? She worried herself sick an’ then she died an’
who you think brought it on?’ There were tears in Reese’s
eyes. ‘She died askin’ fo’you. It broke my heart,
an’ where was you? You weren’t nowhere. Nowhere. An’
my girl layin’ in that bed all yellah an’ sick ‘cause
she so worried ‘bout a rotten chile like you…’
‘What
good it gonna do, huh?’ Mouse shouted. ‘I’s barely
a teenager an’ you come after me wit’ sticks an’
fists. What good it gonna do her t’see you beat me?’
‘You
was a rotten boy, Raymond, an’ you’s a rotten man. You
kilt her an’ now you want my money, but I see you dead fo’
I give up a dime.’
‘I
kilt’er? You the one. You the one ravin’ ‘bout how
yo’ boy so good an’ how I ain’t even legal. You the
one beat on her an’ beat on me which hurt her even more cause
my momma was a good woman an’ you is the devil! The devil, you
hear?’ Mouse reached in the back of his pants for the second
time that day. He pulled out that long-barrelled .41 and blasted that
poor shivering dog. Then he shot the other three: crack, crack,
crack; like ducks in an arcade. Reese hit the ground thinking that
Mouse was gunning for him.
‘I’ma
have what’s mines,’ Mouse said as he brought the bead
down on Reese.
‘You
can kill me an’ you can take my soul but I ain’t gonna
give you a drop’a what’s mine!’
‘Raymond!’
I shouted. ‘Let it go, man! You cain’t get nuthin’
like this. Let it go.’
Mouse
lifted the barrel a hair and shot over Reese’s head, then he
turned to me and said, ‘We better get outta here.’
We went
fast down the way we had come.
Half a
mile down, Mouse stopped and pulled the baby doll from his jacket. He
took out a string and tied it roughly around the doll’s neck
and then he hung the doll from a branch so that it dangled down over
the centre of the road.
‘He
gonna come down here with that shotgun but you know he gonna be
stopped by this,’ Mouse said loudly, to himself.
We took so
many turns and shortcuts that I was lost. I think Mouse was lost too,
because when it started getting dark he said, ‘We cain’t
get nowhere’s good t’night, Ease. We better find some
shelter.’
Nothing
could’ve sounded worse to me. When we were running I’d
started coughing and it wouldn’t go away. I was feverish and
dizzy and I wanted my bed and my room in Houston more than anything.
‘Ain’t
they noplace?’
‘Uh-uh,
Ease. Anyway, I want to go to ground. Reese is good at night.’
He left me
to rest next to a dead oak and went out looking for shelter. While I
sat there, beginning to fade into my fever, I saw a barn owl glide
through the low branches. It moved fast and silent and it never hit a
twig, it was so sure. I thought to myself that some rabbit was going
to die that night, then I started to shake; whether it was from the
fear of mortality or chills I didn’t know.
‘There’s
a lea some hunter musta used just a ways down, Ease,’ Mouse
said when
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