It was all running together on him, the whole goddamned, messed-up day. Shirelle Parker Jed Posey Pop Dwyer Jimmy Pye Lem Tolliver Bub Pye Miss Connie Longacre Sam Vincent Buddy Till Edie White Pye Edie Edie Edie his son Bob Lee Shirelle dead missing her underpants her eyes eternally open the barking dog Mollie “He’s got it, she’s here.”
Forget about it, he told himself. Concentrate on the job.
He got out of the car when he could feel his limbs begin to tingle with lack of circulation. He stood, breathing in the country air. It was so incredibly quiet. But no, it wasn’t: just as a man in war learns the darkness isn’t really darkness, but a texture of different shades that can be learned and read, so quiet wasn’t really quiet. He heard the snapping of the cornstalks as they rustled in the hiss of the breeze. He heard crickets off on some spring by the ridge, and bullfrogs too, low and mournful. He thought he heard a man cough far away. No, couldn’t be. Nobody out here. Some goddamn frog thing or something, or maybe some freak of nature carrying a real cough miles and miles. It happened all the time.
Up above stars, not like the Pacific, but still towers and piles of stars, almost a smoke of stars. Constellations that he had showed his son, trying to remember the stories that went with them and feeling he wasn’t doing a very good job. There were no city lights out here to bleach them out; the closest town was Boles, a good five miles back, and in Boles they closed up for the night around nine.
“What’s that one, Daddy?” someone asked.
No, no one asked. It was his son’s voice, but it was only in his mind; he remembered the question from a hunting trip last fall.
“That’s the North Star, Bob Lee. Always find your way home with that one. Secret to night navigation.”
“What’s night ’gation?”
Damn kid had so many questions!
Concentrate on the job, he told himself.
He checked his watch. It was ten o’clock. Nothing.
Bub drove. He couldn’t hardly see nothing. Just corn on both sides of the road, and now and then a rhyming set of Burma Shave signs or on a barn a or a or even a . He felt lost. It was so dark. He was very scared and also very tired. He was hungry. Hadn’t eaten since the burger.
Jimmy looked out of the car, peering intently.
“There it is,” he said. “Right up there, on the left, you see it?”
“Yes sir,” said Bub. He saw a gap in the corn and what looked to be a road leading back. Far off was a ridge.
“You ain’t forgot what you’re going to say?” he asked. It was very important that Jimmy tell him again. It stopped him from getting so scared.
“No sir, I give you my word,” said Jimmy. “This one was my deal the whole way. It was all my fault. Old Bub had nothing to do with it. We’ll git you back to your mama in no time. You might even get to go home tonight.”
“Do you think? do you think? I miss my mama.”
An image of his mama came before Bub. She was an immense woman, usually harried, sometimes quite mean, but he loved her just the same. He remembered a time when he and some other boys had set fire to a cat after dousing it with kerosene and it had run just a little bit, screaming horribly, before it collapsed into a smoking heap, and he had felt so bad, and his mama had pulled him into her arms and rocked and rocked him and in her abiding warmth and under the ministrations of her calm heart, he had fallen asleep. That was his favorite memory.
“You just do what Mr. Earl tells you,” said Jimmy. “It’s going to be all right.”
Bub turned onto the dirt road. He paused, feeling the car slip a little into the soil.
“Go on,” said Jimmy. “Just a bit farther. I’m afraid old Earl missed it, goddammit.”
They edged ahead until they were swallowed by corn, the corn seemed to lean in from each side, like it was attacking them, and Bub had a brief spasm of fear.
“Jimmy?” he asked plaintively, feeling his voice rise just a bit.
“There, there,” said Jimmy.
The headlights prowled ahead on the dirt road, and in time they came to the state police cruiser resting on the side of the road.
“Here we are,” said Jimmy.
Earl watched as the car came slowly into view, swung around the curve, then pulled off to the side of the road fifty or so feet away. Whoever was driving switched off the engine. A little gray dust still floated in the air. The car, cooling, ticked and creaked a bit but neither of the two men inside moved.
For maybe thirty long seconds it was quiet. Then Earl switched on his spotlight, throwing a circle of illumination in the front seat of the automobile. He recognized Jimmy Pye, raising a hand to block out the harsh glare. Jimmy was blazing in the beam, his natural colors turned flame-white, his thick locks of hair golden.
“That’s bright, Earl,” he called.
Jimmy! Earl thought. Goddamn you, Jimmy, why’d you go and do this goddamned thing?
“All right now, Jimmy,” Earl called out. “You move real easy.”
“Yes sir,” said Jimmy. “Can Bub call his mama? He’s awful upset about his mama.”
“We’ll take care of that in a little bit. Now I want you to come out first, Jimmy, I want to see the gun held by the barrel in your left hand and I want to watch it tossed until it lands in the dirt. Then I want you, Bub, I want to see hands, I want to see the gun held in the left one by the barrel, I want to see it in the dirt. You got that? This is going to happen nice and easy.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Earl,” called Bub.
“Okay, let’s do it.”
“Hey, Earl, you sound like Joe Friday. This ain’t Dragnet. Hell, Earl, it’s only Jimmy Pye and his little cousin,” said Jimmy. He unlatched his door, then, showing his hands, kneed the door open and stepped out. His hands were high and empty.
“I’m going to get the gun now, Earl,” he called, and reached down with his left hand and removed a pistol from his belt. He threw it forward, where it landed in the dust, kicking up a little puff.
“Okay, Bub, you slide over, and out you come, the same way.”
Bub scooted forward along the seat and pulled himself out. Where Jimmy’s posture had been nonchalant, even arrogant, Bub was tight with tension. Absurdly, his arms flew straight up like a grade school boy aping an angel’s flight. Earl could see his knees shaking.
“The gun, Bub. Did you forget the gun, Bub?”
“Oh-unh,” came a little choke of despair and terror from the big boy, “it’s still in the car. You want me to get it?”
“Turn around, so’s I can see you’re unarmed,” said Earl.
Obligingly, the big youngster pivoted and Earl saw his belt was empty.
“Okay, Bub, you turn back around and set them hands against the roof of the car, next to Jimmy.”
“Y-yes sir,” came the plaintive cry, as Bub turned and leaned.
“Now, y’all stay like that real steady. I’m coming across, I don’t want any sudden moves.”
“Hurry up, Earl, the damn skeeters is eating me alive,” called Jimmy.