Выбрать главу

"Better yet," Millicent said with a snicker, "Jim Bob could have called in Brother Verber to save his twisted soul. After all, we got a fine baptismal font, and Mrs. Jim Bob's likely to have more than one bar of lye soap in her bathroom cabinet for when Jim Bob comes staggering in with whiskey on his breath and lipstick smeared on his collar. I hate to think what kind of mischief he's gonna get up to while she and Brother Verber are gone this week."

Their voices grew louder as they came up the aisle.

"All I can say," said Eula, "was if I was that particular bushcolt, I'd eat whatever food I found setting on the piano bench by the pulpit and then skedaddle back where I came from."

"What on earth does that mean, Eula?"

Her response was cut off as the door closed. Hammet sucked in his breath as long as he could, then wiggled out from under the pew. He stayed on the floor, though, making sure no one was lurking in the vestibule in hopes of pouncing on him and trying to drown him in some tub of holy water. His foster ma'd tried to have him baptized a year ago, but it'd taken four full-growed men to hold him under the water and he'd come up cussin' something awful. The preacher had called it off then and there.

He finally stood up. When nothing happened, he went down to the piano bench and rooted through a box of ham sandwiches, apples, and a piece of pecan pie in plastic wrap. It was enough to hold him for the rest of the day, but it sounded like Arly wouldn't be back for awhiles. Breaking into her apartment might not sit well with her, 'specially when he was going to try to sweet-talk her into letting him stay on. Ruby Bee and Estelle wouldn't take it well, neither. He couldn't tell where Brother Verber was for the time being, but breaking into his trailer might result in a lengthy stay in the place Jim Bob had been sputtering about.

He took the box and let himself out, and then found a shadowy hollow between the shrubs alongside the church. As he licked the mustard off a slice of ham, he considered the possibilities.

5

Having endured a prickly lecture in which it'd been made clearer than spring water that my assistance was neither required nor desired, I left Ruby Bee yanking out measuring spoons and utensils. Willetta Robarts had driven away, and Mrs. Jim Bob must have retreated upstairs to pray for my salvation, as futile as the cause may have been. Brother Verber remained slouched at the end of the dock, unmindful of the mosquitoes buzzing around him. Although we were a couple of hours away from sunset, the blue of the sky seemed to be intensifying in readiness for what might prove to be a gratifying presentation.

I walked up the hill to the softball field. Darla Jean was not present, but the other kids were working industriously under Larry Joe's practiced supervision.

Or so it seemed.

"Oh my gawd!" shrieked Heather, dropping one end of a freshly cut plank. "I've got a sliver under my fingernail. It's bleeding, too!"

Amy Dee, who'd instinctively dropped the other end, clutched one foot and began to hop around like a mutant frog. "You broke my toe! When I catch up with you, you'll see some real blood, you whore!"

"At least my initials ain't scratched in every locker in the boys' gym."

"How would you know?"

Larry Joe got between them before they could get hold of each other's hair. Keeping them at arm's length and ignoring their threats, he said, "Parwell, you and Big Mac set this in place and start drilling holes for the bolts. Heather, you go on down to the lodge. The first-aid kit's got a pair of tweezers fit to pluck a pine tree off the mountainside."

"Tweezers?" gulped Heather. Her eyeballs rolled back and she crumpled to the ground.

Larry Joe stared down at her, mystified. "What'd I say?"

I may have overestimated his wattage. I knelt next to Heather and flopped her over so her face wasn't pressed in the dust. Her eyelids trembled but remained closed. "She'll be okay in a minute."

"That was awesome," said Big Mac as he loomed over my shoulder. "Reminds me of that faintin' goat my Uncle Bromide had for a spell. If you snuck up behind it and shouted, it keeled right over. Funniest damn thing I ever seen."

Parwell whacked him on the shoulder. "Bet it wasn't as funny as when you tried to get it up for Lanci Louise Ferncliff. She told me she tried so hard not to laugh that she near to peed in her pants." He began to sing, "My wiener's got a first name, it's L-I-M-P-Y…"

"Sumbitch!" Big Mac howled, his face turning redder than the tomatoes in the seed catalogue, pages twenty-nine through thirty-two.

I stood up and made it clear I was ready to smack both of them if they didn't back away. "Let me tell you of a lesser-known commandment: Thou shalt not piss me off. These six words need to haunt you every minute of your waking hours, from reveille to taps, presuming we have a bugler in our midst. You are welcome to settle this later, but for now, shut up and do whatever Larry Joe says-unless you'd like to participate in an anger management session led by Mrs. Jim Bob and Brother Verber." I glared at the rest of them. "That goes for all of you. Questions?"

"No, ma'am," Parwell and Big Mac muttered in unison. Heather had regained consciousness, if indeed she'd ever lost it, and was sitting up. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. "I'll go down to the lodge with you."

"Yeah, okay," she said without enthusiasm.

Larry Joe clapped his hands. "It looks like we're gonna get a storm, so we'll call it a day. Jarvis, you and Big Mac move all the tools to the dugout and make sure they're covered with tarps. Parwell and Billy Dick, stack the lumber. You Dahlton gals need to gather up all the softball equipment and stuff it back in the bag. Amy Dee, you sit down over there and take off your shoe and sock. From the way you was carrying on, you'd better hope your toe looks like a ripe purple plum."

I glanced at the sky as I escorted Heather down the hill. Across the lake, dark clouds were massing. Whitecaps riffled the lake like peaks of seven-minute icing, and what had been a pleasant breeze now had a bite. I hoped Jacko had enough sense to move his gear to his car before the storm hit. Sodden sleeping bags smell worse than wet dogs, or even teenagers in heat.

"I'm sorry to be a bother," Heather said, sniveling just enough to annoy me. "When I was a little kid, I was barefoot and stepped hard on a thorn. My ma had to hold me down while my pa tried to dig it out with tweezers. When that didn't do any good, he made me drink a glass of whiskey so he could cut the thorn out with a knife. I thought I was gonna die right then and there."

"All we're gonna to do is soak your finger in warm salt water," I said soothingly. As we neared the lodge, I stopped her. "Look, Heather, I didn't find Darla Jean. She put on her bikini and walked down to the lake, where she was last seen about two hours ago, give or take. She wouldn't swim out too far, would she?"

"I don't think so. They made her learn how to swim at camp four or five summers back, but she didn't like it. Whenever we go to the pool in Farberville, she'll sit on the side of the pool and dangle her feet, but I ain't ever seen her get in the water. She won't even wade in Boone Creek because of the minnows."

"Minnows?" I said.

"Darla Jean claims they're baby barracudas, and the crawdads hide under rocks till they're big as lobsters and able to pinch off your toes. She swears that house flies suck blood. She flunked biology two years in a row, and was going for a third when Ms. Mertzworth got kinda discouraged and gave her a passing grade for staying in the lines when we colored mimeographed handouts of amoebae."

"Do you have any idea where she might be?"

"Ms. Mertzworth? She went off to be a missionary in one of those African countries that nobody can spell."

"I meant Darla Jean."

Heather considered this as she chomped on a wad of gum. "Maybe she was hiding when you went to look for her. She wasn't real excited about hauling lumber and stuff, and the only reason she came was because of Billy Dick. Then they had such a big fight two nights ago that she threw his letter jacket in the lake outside Farberville. I hate to think what he'll do when he finds out."