Kings Of The Earth Part 19

And then once a month this big black Eldorado with Canadian plates on it would come by like clockwork, I mean like the milkman or the mail train or something, and Tom would be waiting to meet it. It was always in the middle of the night. Two, maybe three o'clock in the morning. Right in between there. Only an old man with urinary troubles would have been out of bed to know about it, but I knew about it all right. The way things turned out, I wasn't the only one having that kind of trouble during those days. That was probably why Vernon would stick his head out the barn door sometimes and give them a hand hauling bundles from the trunk of the Caddy and vice versa. I figure he'd probably gotten up to take a leak. You could see who it was in the light from the house door, if he thought to put it on. Tom and the Canadian never once put on a light. This was back in the springtime. Vernon was still alive but he wouldn't be for long.

Nick.

HE'D PRETTY MUCH DECIDED that there wasn't any G.o.dd.a.m.ned decency left in the world. A workingman builds a little something up for himself, and the next thing he knows some a.s.shole comes along and takes it away. The same a.s.shole who screws his little sister while he's at it and then gives up on her too, even though to hear her tell the story it might have gone in the other direction on account of she decided he was a Grade A loser and gave him the old heave-ho, but who cares. It wasn't right either way. Loser or not, he had the best dope in the county and a private line to the Canuck and where did that leave old Nick. The Canuck wouldn't even take his calls anymore. Wouldn't even let that French chef of his pick up the phone. They must have gotten Caller ID just for him. It rang and rang. that there wasn't any G.o.dd.a.m.ned decency left in the world. A workingman builds a little something up for himself, and the next thing he knows some a.s.shole comes along and takes it away. The same a.s.shole who screws his little sister while he's at it and then gives up on her too, even though to hear her tell the story it might have gone in the other direction on account of she decided he was a Grade A loser and gave him the old heave-ho, but who cares. It wasn't right either way. Loser or not, he had the best dope in the county and a private line to the Canuck and where did that leave old Nick. The Canuck wouldn't even take his calls anymore. Wouldn't even let that French chef of his pick up the phone. They must have gotten Caller ID just for him. It rang and rang.

1990.

Del.

MY MOTHER'S HOUSE is the very same way. Not very much has changed in it since Kennedy was in office or before. is the very same way. Not very much has changed in it since Kennedy was in office or before.

Margaret Hatch kept a display of those little old-fashioned mustard pots on her kitchen shelves. All sorts of them. Crystal and china and pewter. What the old folks used to call milk gla.s.s. I don't know why you'd decide to collect mustard pots or why you'd give any shelf s.p.a.ce to milk gla.s.s, but people are all different.

Preston was upstairs, so his wife and I chatted in the kitchen for a while waiting. But rather than go into the living room when he came down I said why don't we just talk out on the screen porch. I showed my pant legs, which were still a little damp even though I'd managed to keep my shoes and socks dry, and they agreed that it would be a good idea. So we went out onto the porch, where they had some castoff furniture that I wouldn't ruin.

Neither one of them looked surprised when I mentioned the marijuana field. I made it clear from the start that I didn't believe the two brothers had anything to do with it, and I think I'd developed sufficient credibility with Preston that he saw I wasn't trying to mislead him in any way. He said if those two were raising that big a cash crop they'd probably eat better. Dress better too. Maybe drive something other than a tractor when they had an errand to run, something with doors and a roof. He went on about the implications for a while as if I still might need convincing. I said I guessed he was right about all that, and he let it go.

Since it wasn't Creed and Audie growing dope up there in the woods, I asked if they had any ideas as to who might be doing it. I didn't say that I thought it might be the nephew. I left it open. Preston asked Margaret if she'd go in the house for a while. She said she didn't need to. She said she knew what he was going to say because he'd been talking about nothing else for the better part of the year. He scowled at her and said no that wasn't it. He had things to talk about with me was all. Different things. Things she didn't need to put her nose into. He wasn't polite about it in the least, which surprised me. But she stood up and smoothed her dress down and went on into the house. Just like that. They come from a different time, those two. Their ways will die with that generation.

Once she was gone, Preston's demeanor changed. He actually went quiet for a minute, as if he were having second thoughts as to what he was about to tell me. Then he looked out the screen and remarked on the heat and the lack of rain and the condition of the gra.s.s in the pasture next door.

I said how about you tell me about who's growing that marijuana.

He said there was more to it than that.

I asked what he meant.

He said the marijuana crop up in those woods was worth an awful lot. The crop and the people involved with it.

I said there was no denying that.

Margaret was opening and closing cabinets in the kitchen, so he cleared his throat and got up and shut the door. Then he sat down and looked at me. He cleared his throat again and he asked how certain I was about Creed. About the confession he'd signed.

I said a confession was a confession and my opinion of it was immaterial. I said how about we talk about that marijuana field instead. But he didn't give up.

He asked if my interview with Audie had changed anything as to my feelings about Creed, and I said what interview what interview. I said it like it was a joke and I shook my head and smiled a little so as to encourage him to laugh, to help him be more forthcoming. I guess it helped, because he quit beating around the bush. He asked if there was any chance that I could influence what the district attorney might do about Creed, particularly given that there was more to the marijuana business than anybody guessed as of yet, and his testimony might well unveil what he called a drug cartel of international proportions a drug cartel of international proportions.

I told him I was as sympathetic to his neighbors as anybody, perhaps more, but the law was the law and this marijuana business was an entirely different case. We'd eventually find out who was raising that crop and who was buying it. We'd find out one way or another. I told him he could choose to help or not, however he saw fit, but I'd sure appreciate it if he would give us a hand. I think he was a little embarra.s.sed, and he certainly didn't have the willpower to push it any further. I don't know that anybody would, except in the movies or on the television. He'd made a pretty good try, though.

Once we had all that settled he called Margaret back out, and she brought some lemonade, and he told me about the international drug cartel that had been operating right in his own front yard all this time. It seems they kept to a regular schedule. He asked if I thought he'd have to testify to anything in court, and I said not if we played our cards right.

1954.

Audie.

IT WAS GOING TO BE a pig but I turned it into a dog instead on account of that three-legged one that died. I still had it when people came around and started pulling out their wallets but I hung on to it no matter what. Sometimes I'd give it a little new paint but not anymore. I never did part with that dog. You couldn't get me to. n.o.body could. I still have it to this day. a pig but I turned it into a dog instead on account of that three-legged one that died. I still had it when people came around and started pulling out their wallets but I hung on to it no matter what. Sometimes I'd give it a little new paint but not anymore. I never did part with that dog. You couldn't get me to. n.o.body could. I still have it to this day.

1990.

Margaret.

WE'VE ALWAYS HAD a double garage, because winters are hard around here and Preston is fastidious about his cars. Not that he keeps them for that long. People at the church used to joke that he'd rather sell a car than empty the ashtray. Cars have always been his great weakness. a double garage, because winters are hard around here and Preston is fastidious about his cars. Not that he keeps them for that long. People at the church used to joke that he'd rather sell a car than empty the ashtray. Cars have always been his great weakness.

In the afternoon he washed mine, but instead of putting it back in the garage he left it in the driveway. Late in the evening the troopers came, Del Graham and a gentleman named Myers who was much younger but very serious and terribly deferential to an old lady like me. They backed their patrol car up into the garage and put it in the empty bay and let the door down.

I made them some coffee and we all watched the late news. Then I went to bed, and I told Preston to come with me. He said no, he thought he'd sit out on the screen porch with the troopers for a while, and even though they tried very politely to discourage him, he went anyway. I may as well have stayed down there and kept them company, for all I slept.

Nick.

HE'D HAD A LITTLE BIT to drink at the Woodshed, to drink at the Woodshed, that lowlife joint where Tom most pointedly did not hang out anymore that lowlife joint where Tom most pointedly did not hang out anymore, so rather than drive around he left the Indian in the parking lot and walked to d.i.c.kie's for a few cups of coffee and a big slice of that coconut cream pie. Between the sugar and the caffeine he'd be all right. Plus he had a couple of hours to kill. Was d.i.c.kie's open that late? He'd find out.

Del.

THE V VOLKSWAGEN ARRIVED FIRST, then the Cadillac right behind it. They killed their lights as they turned onto the dirt lane. They weren't in any hurry, and they did their best to pretty much coast the rest of the way, that big Caddy probably never getting above an idle by the sound of it. The VW was coughing badly and it would have been quieter if the nephew had just given it a little gas now and then. He parked and the Caddy pulled up next to him. Just one or two taps on their brakes and a little red glow in the yard and everything went dark again. The dome lights didn't even come on when they opened their doors and got out.

Preston elbowed me in the ribs to remind me that he'd kept his promise. I nodded my head whether he saw me or not, and I slid an inch or two away on the couch so that he wouldn't be tempted to do it again.

The nephew opened the barn door and the Canadian popped his trunk. The sounds of the door latches and the trunk latch carried across the empty s.p.a.ce between us. The Canadian had apparently unscrewed the bulb from his trunk lid, too. He lit a cigarette and stood in the dark for a minute while the nephew took care of something in the barn. I thought that lighting the cigarette was pretty bold of him, but that was fine with me. It suggested that he'd gotten used to not having company. At first he had his back to us, judging by the way the cigarette came and went, and then he turned around and leaned against the rear quarter panel of the car and the movement of the ember was in the clear. If it had been daylight we would have been looking right at each other across the barnyard and the dirt lane and Preston's little patch of gra.s.s. Preston held his breath. We just had to wait.

Tom.

THERE WAS NEVER any telling how much junk he'd have to move around once he got the trapdoor open. Lumber and hay bales and feed sacks and hand tools and G.o.d knew what else. Audie and Creed had no respect for his s.p.a.ce, that was the trouble. And Audie was the worst, with his stupid whirligigs and his lathe and his lumber set out everywhere to dry. Tonight wasn't actually so bad. Just a shovel and a couple of planks of some sort of wood and a short-handled silage fork, the tines of which he stepped on so that it sprang up like a rake in a cartoon but not far enough or hard enough to do him any damage. He opened one door to let in whatever light there was and he cleared room for Henri's stuff, and then he picked up an armload of his own and went back down the ladder. He kicked a clear s.p.a.ce in the hay and horses.h.i.t and set the package down for when Henri's trunk was empty and they could start filling it up again. Henri heard him and walked in with his arms full and a cigarette between his teeth. Tom told him to put that out, didn't he know anything, but he just went on up the ladder. Tom got an armload himself and followed. any telling how much junk he'd have to move around once he got the trapdoor open. Lumber and hay bales and feed sacks and hand tools and G.o.d knew what else. Audie and Creed had no respect for his s.p.a.ce, that was the trouble. And Audie was the worst, with his stupid whirligigs and his lathe and his lumber set out everywhere to dry. Tonight wasn't actually so bad. Just a shovel and a couple of planks of some sort of wood and a short-handled silage fork, the tines of which he stepped on so that it sprang up like a rake in a cartoon but not far enough or hard enough to do him any damage. He opened one door to let in whatever light there was and he cleared room for Henri's stuff, and then he picked up an armload of his own and went back down the ladder. He kicked a clear s.p.a.ce in the hay and horses.h.i.t and set the package down for when Henri's trunk was empty and they could start filling it up again. Henri heard him and walked in with his arms full and a cigarette between his teeth. Tom told him to put that out, didn't he know anything, but he just went on up the ladder. Tom got an armload himself and followed.

They took a few more loads up and they were standing in the hayloft door, breathing hard, when a motorcycle turned up from the main road.

Audie.

THAT WAS A SOUND I hadn't heard for a while. Sometimes I'd go out and help those boys unload but that new man wasn't friendly so I didn't like to bother him. The other one, the one who used to come around before, he called me Uncle Audie just like Tom did. He was all right. I liked him pretty well and Creed did too. I hadn't heard for a while. Sometimes I'd go out and help those boys unload but that new man wasn't friendly so I didn't like to bother him. The other one, the one who used to come around before, he called me Uncle Audie just like Tom did. He was all right. I liked him pretty well and Creed did too.

Preston.

I LEANED OVER LEANED OVER to say this was Tom's greaser friend, but Graham wouldn't let me. Tom and the Canadian were in the barn somewhere, so I didn't see any harm in whispering a little. Graham was coiled up just like a wire sitting there. to say this was Tom's greaser friend, but Graham wouldn't let me. Tom and the Canadian were in the barn somewhere, so I didn't see any harm in whispering a little. Graham was coiled up just like a wire sitting there.

Tom.

THE TWO MEN BACKED AWAY from the hayloft door to watch the motorcycle come up the lane. They stood shoulder to shoulder, just out of the dim starlight, in the door shadow where Nick wouldn't see them. from the hayloft door to watch the motorcycle come up the lane. They stood shoulder to shoulder, just out of the dim starlight, in the door shadow where Nick wouldn't see them.

Nick pulled up out of sight in front of the barn and revved the engine a little. Under the noise of it Henri turned his head and spoke to Tom. Very rapidly, but softly and without much inflection. He said how disappointed he was to be seeing this former a.s.sociate of theirs appearing from out of nowhere and sticking his nose into their business, particularly when he'd done his best to sever the relationship. Just like that. Sever Sever. He suggested that Tom, on the other hand, had perhaps not been holding up his end of the bargain. He indicated that Tom might want to make that right just as soon as possible, using whatever means might be required.

He sounded just like DeAlton, only with a French accent.

Tom decided that he'd had just about enough.

Del.

AS LONG AS the motorcycle was running I thought we ought to take advantage of the noise. Myers and I got up and stood in the shadows against the house, right near the screen door. Not Preston. Preston knew to lay low. I had put some duct tape over the latch so that when the time came we could open the door and slip out without making even that little bit of noise. We waited to see if the nephew and the Canadian would come out to see about the other fellow, but they didn't. He leaned his bike against the wall and poked around in the trunk of the Caddy for a minute. I thought I saw him put something in his pocket but I couldn't be sure. Then he bent over the trunk again and lifted something else out and walked it over to his bike. It looked to be about the size of a shoe box. Dope. Probably two or three bricks of it. He put it in the saddlebag, and that was fine with me. That was just about perfect. I couldn't have asked for any more than that. the motorcycle was running I thought we ought to take advantage of the noise. Myers and I got up and stood in the shadows against the house, right near the screen door. Not Preston. Preston knew to lay low. I had put some duct tape over the latch so that when the time came we could open the door and slip out without making even that little bit of noise. We waited to see if the nephew and the Canadian would come out to see about the other fellow, but they didn't. He leaned his bike against the wall and poked around in the trunk of the Caddy for a minute. I thought I saw him put something in his pocket but I couldn't be sure. Then he bent over the trunk again and lifted something else out and walked it over to his bike. It looked to be about the size of a shoe box. Dope. Probably two or three bricks of it. He put it in the saddlebag, and that was fine with me. That was just about perfect. I couldn't have asked for any more than that.

Tom.

HENRI STEPPED FARTHER BACK into the shadows and lit himself a cigarette, listening for Nick's footsteps in the barn. Nick was slow in coming but the Frenchman had all the time in the world. Tom took up a post at the top of the ladder, the shovel raised over his head like a club, and when the crown of his uncle's vague head appeared through the trapdoor he did not hesitate. into the shadows and lit himself a cigarette, listening for Nick's footsteps in the barn. Nick was slow in coming but the Frenchman had all the time in the world. Tom took up a post at the top of the ladder, the shovel raised over his head like a club, and when the crown of his uncle's vague head appeared through the trapdoor he did not hesitate.

1932.

Ruth.

UP FROM THE EARTH the water rises, bidden by the iron pump and her husband's furious working of it, bearing into the world the earth's own changeless temperature. Spill it on the barnyard and it will freeze into a sheet. Pour it into the pot and it will steam soon enough. Thus without complaint or will or agency of any sort it bears witness to its beginnings and makes accommodation to its ends. the water rises, bidden by the iron pump and her husband's furious working of it, bearing into the world the earth's own changeless temperature. Spill it on the barnyard and it will freeze into a sheet. Pour it into the pot and it will steam soon enough. Thus without complaint or will or agency of any sort it bears witness to its beginnings and makes accommodation to its ends.

Lester empties the pitcher into the pot atop the stove and stokes the fire and pumps more water which he slops into the pot as well, spilling a little in his haste and standing undaunted in the consequent cloud of vapor that blooms up white from the iron stove.

Audie.

I SAW MY FATHER SAW MY FATHER and that old red rooster in a cloud of smoke or steam or both. My father worked the pump and I was on the floor with the fish and my mother was rubbing at my brother Vernon. Rubbing at his arms and legs so he wouldn't go on ahead. Anything but that. Anything but Vernon going on ahead of her. She cried some and she didn't hide it and my father told her to stop so she hid it but she didn't stop. She just put her head down so he couldn't see, but I could see because I was down on the floor where the fish spilled. I was slid down among them just as cold and wet, and I was wiggling my legs and the fish were thawing out and I was getting colder. Vernon was sucking in the air like a fish himself but out of water and my mother was bent over him where my father couldn't see but I could. and that old red rooster in a cloud of smoke or steam or both. My father worked the pump and I was on the floor with the fish and my mother was rubbing at my brother Vernon. Rubbing at his arms and legs so he wouldn't go on ahead. Anything but that. Anything but Vernon going on ahead of her. She cried some and she didn't hide it and my father told her to stop so she hid it but she didn't stop. She just put her head down so he couldn't see, but I could see because I was down on the floor where the fish spilled. I was slid down among them just as cold and wet, and I was wiggling my legs and the fish were thawing out and I was getting colder. Vernon was sucking in the air like a fish himself but out of water and my mother was bent over him where my father couldn't see but I could.

Ruth.

SHE WOULD RATHER DIE herself and she says so. To her husband this sounds like a poor bargain and perhaps even a wicked one capable of calling down some limitless and untrustworthy power, and so he forbids her making it. For his part he behaves as if work will save the boy. Work alone, regardless of intent or method or object. The mere movement of the elements pursuing themselves through the world, their friction generating heat and light and life. He catches the blue boy's shuddering breath from the corner of his eye and redoubles his efforts, working the pump like a bellows, hollering over his shoulder at Audie: "On your feet, boy. Take care of them fish." herself and she says so. To her husband this sounds like a poor bargain and perhaps even a wicked one capable of calling down some limitless and untrustworthy power, and so he forbids her making it. For his part he behaves as if work will save the boy. Work alone, regardless of intent or method or object. The mere movement of the elements pursuing themselves through the world, their friction generating heat and light and life. He catches the blue boy's shuddering breath from the corner of his eye and redoubles his efforts, working the pump like a bellows, hollering over his shoulder at Audie: "On your feet, boy. Take care of them fish."

The boy asks how.

"Don't make me tell you everything." He gives off on the handle and raises the pitcher and spills water into the pot which steams on the stove but not for long. He tests it with a finger and pours some into a basin and sets the basin on the table with the dishrag. "Try that," he says to his wife.

"I'll need more rags," she says. "Bigger. A towel."

Audie has bent to gather up the thawing fish but his father stops him. "Never mind them. Fetch your mother some rags. From the barn."

The boy runs off in a clap of cold air from the door flung wide and returns straight off with all he can carry, a double armload of wretched dusty feed sacks lately home to mice. She accepts them and without so much as shaking loose their burden of seed and chaff and s.h.i.t she plunges them into the basin and is grateful. Rag by rag she wrings them out and applies their heat to her son's pale body, and slowly he comes around.

Audie.

ONE OF THEM came back to life. There was fish slime on the floor and water and ice melt and I bent to pick up a little one and it came right back to life just like that. Just like Vernon. The gills of it spread open and the mouth of it moved quick and I dropped it on account of how it surprised me. I never knew such a thing could happen. It slid down with the rest and when I tried to find it again I couldn't because after that it stayed dead. came back to life. There was fish slime on the floor and water and ice melt and I bent to pick up a little one and it came right back to life just like that. Just like Vernon. The gills of it spread open and the mouth of it moved quick and I dropped it on account of how it surprised me. I never knew such a thing could happen. It slid down with the rest and when I tried to find it again I couldn't because after that it stayed dead.

1990.

Del.

ONCE THAT OTHER FELLOW who'd come on the motorcycle stepped into the barn, all h.e.l.l broke loose. It was apparent that the nephew and the Canadian hadn't expected him any more than we had, so while they were tangling we drew our weapons and opened the screen door and ran down through the yard in the dark. The gra.s.s was wet. Myers and I went across the dirt lane and up to the barn door, and no sooner had we gotten there than the three of them came tumbling out as if they were being chased by something. They didn't have much to say when they realized who we were. They were a lot less trouble than I'd expected them to be, and I didn't know why until later on. We cuffed them to the Cadillac one by one, three men and four door handles on that big old boat, and Myers pulled the barn door shut while I brought the patrol car down. There wasn't any need to disturb the Proctor brothers. Not that I could think of. Myers asked if he should tape the door, but I said no. I said those old men would want to get their milking done before long, and they didn't need our tape getting in their way. What was in the hayloft would stay there until morning without our help. I radioed for a team to come and secure the vehicles, and when they turned up the lane we headed out. who'd come on the motorcycle stepped into the barn, all h.e.l.l broke loose. It was apparent that the nephew and the Canadian hadn't expected him any more than we had, so while they were tangling we drew our weapons and opened the screen door and ran down through the yard in the dark. The gra.s.s was wet. Myers and I went across the dirt lane and up to the barn door, and no sooner had we gotten there than the three of them came tumbling out as if they were being chased by something. They didn't have much to say when they realized who we were. They were a lot less trouble than I'd expected them to be, and I didn't know why until later on. We cuffed them to the Cadillac one by one, three men and four door handles on that big old boat, and Myers pulled the barn door shut while I brought the patrol car down. There wasn't any need to disturb the Proctor brothers. Not that I could think of. Myers asked if he should tape the door, but I said no. I said those old men would want to get their milking done before long, and they didn't need our tape getting in their way. What was in the hayloft would stay there until morning without our help. I radioed for a team to come and secure the vehicles, and when they turned up the lane we headed out.

Preston.

I THOUGHT THOUGHT I I'D BETTER TAKE that duct tape down off the latch before it got stuck there forever. We'd had the house shut up all night, so it wasn't until I opened the door onto the screen porch that I heard the cows down in the yard by the barn. Milking time had come and gone and n.o.body'd seen to them. The barn door was shut. They knew something was wrong even if n.o.body else did. that duct tape down off the latch before it got stuck there forever. We'd had the house shut up all night, so it wasn't until I opened the door onto the screen porch that I heard the cows down in the yard by the barn. Milking time had come and gone and n.o.body'd seen to them. The barn door was shut. They knew something was wrong even if n.o.body else did.

I put on my boots and went right straight down there in my bathrobe. You don't want to go walking around a barnyard in your bare feet. You could pick up one of those parasites they get in Africa, and then you'd be in trouble. I had to shoulder my way through the cows to get to the barn. I don't know how those old boys ever got that great big door open and shut every single day of their lives, except they were in the habit. Maybe there was a secret to it but I don't think so. I guess I've just gone soft. Anyhow I put my weight into it and pushed it open and went on in. A barn is a pretty dark place by and large, and I walked right on past them. The two of them on the floor over by the far wall. I went straight through into the house and the bed was empty and then I went out again and I guess my eyes must have gotten a little used to the dark because there they were, asleep on the hay. Audie was asleep anyhow. Creed wasn't going to be waking up. Not after that fall and whatever else. I checked to make sure there wasn't any question about that and there wasn't. He was cold. The shovel lay right there alongside his head and there was white hair on it and there was a little blood too.

Audie was behind his brother, up close like they were a couple of spoons. He had his arms around him. Maybe that's how they always slept. Maybe it was a regular thing. I'd never thought about it and I wouldn't know. I bent over and touched his shoulder and I said his name out loud and he opened up his eyes, the one of them clouded over and the other one not much better. I thought it was the strangest thing, how a person can go through this life and not see what you see. How he can stand right next to you and it's all different.

I helped him up and told him to go get dressed, and I covered Creed over with a horse blanket, and then I went back home to get dressed myself. I had Margaret call the troopers, then I went back down to help Audie with the milking. Graham came straight over from his place on the West Road and there was a whole line of police cars not more than a half-mile behind him, sirens and lights going, and I told him what I'd found and how I'd found it. He said he guessed he should have gone in last night. I said I didn't blame him for not going in. It was probably too late already. Who knows.

He said well then he should have arrested Creed back when he had the chance, and everything would have turned out different. He'd still be among the living. I said I didn't know about that either. I said he might have saved Creed's life just so he could die from shame in the jailhouse. It was hard to say.

Del.