"Don't be absurd. You must go to the cabin and investigate. If the mother is truly missing then you must bring the rest of the heathens back to town."
"I shall presume all that heavy breathing has induced hyperventilation," I said. "Go home and breathe into a paper bag."
"It is your Christian duty. Think of those poor, starving children all alone in the forest."
I stood up and clipped on my beeper. "If it's anyone's Christian duty, Mrs. Jim Bob, it's yours. Feel free to think all you want about those poor, starving children all alone in the forest. Tell this child the story of Hansel and Gretel until you turn blue in the face. But you're crazier than a flea on an elephant if you think I'm going up there, especially on some vague notion that Robin may have taken a hike for a couple of days."
"More'n that," the witness contributed. "And the baby ain't had tit for a long while. He's a-cryin' and a-mewin' all the time."
I glared at the child. "What's your name?"
"Hammet."
"Okay, Hammet," I said through clenched teeth, are you willing to tell me the whole story now? I'm hardly in the mood to sit here all afternoon and drag it out of you one word at a time."
Mrs. Jim Bob nodded as if she had singlehandedly pulled off a damn coup d'état in South America. "Of course Hammet will cooperate with the authorities. He doesn't want to go straight to hell on a freight train, does he?"
"Ain't never been on a train," Hammet muttered. "I heard 'em on t'other side of the ridge, though. How fast do you reckon they can go?"
This whole thing was going too fast for yours truly. "I will listen to the story," I said. "If it seems warranted, I will go so far as to borrow a fourwheel-drive jeep from the sheriff's office and try to find Robin's cabin out there in the middle of nowhere. If she has not returned, I will even fill the backseat with heathens and transport them back to town." I crossed my arms and stared at Mrs. Jim Bob. "Do you have any suggestions as to what I do next?"
She tried to pretend she missed the point. "Why, you do everything possible to find Robin and reunite her with her children."
"And until I find her?" I persisted, not missing a beat. "What do I do with the children until then?"
Mrs. Jim Bob paled. "Why, I'm sure you'll find a nice, warm, safe place for them to stay. They'll need food, beds, and clean clothing, of course, but they won't be any bother once they're fed and…disinfected."
I looked down at Hammet. "See this kind, Christian woman just brimming with charity? She lives way on the top of a hill, in a great big house with lots of bedrooms and bathrooms, and her refrigerator is bigger than the broad side of a barn. Ooh, it's just stuffed full of good things to eat, like meat and 'taters and cookies and ice cream. How would you and all your dear little brothers and sisters like to visit her?"
"I think," Mrs. Jim Bob said in a strangled voice, "that I'd best go see Brother Verber at the Voice Of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall. I feel a sudden need for prayer."
I let her stumble away. Then, after opening the back door and the windows, I sat Hammet across the room and we got down to business.
4
Don't think for a minute that Hammet Buchanon spilled out his little heart to me. For one thing, I wouldn't have bet a dollar that he had one; for another, he was about as credible as a televangelist claiming a hotline to God and requesting help with the phone bill. Hammet finally admitted he and his brothers and sisters had been alone for four or five days, and hadn't had much of anything in the way of vittles. When last seen, their mother was going 'seng hunting. I inquired where her patch was. He shot me a suspicious look and told me it weren't none of my goddamn business. What a cutie.
I considered various responses, then settled for a sigh. "Let's get you something to eat, Hammet. I'll call the sheriff's office to see if we can borrow a four-wheel and run up to the cabin. If your mother's still missing, I suppose we'll bring your siblings back to town and deal with the situation then."
"Ain't got none."
"None of what?" I said absently as I clipped on my beeper.
"Them that you said."
I thought about it for a minute, then realized what he meant. "Siblings are brothers and sisters, Hammet. How about a big, greasy cheeseburger and a glass of milk?"
He didn't budge. "Why ain't they brothers and sisters?"
"It's another word that means brothers and sisters, I said, taking his shoulder strap to propel him toward the door.
"Why din't you jest say brothers and sisters?"
Cursing Mrs. Jim Bob under my breath (although I doubted I used any words not an integral part of the child's vocabulary), I dragged him out the door while explaining that there were often several words that meant the very same thing. I could tell he didn't believe a word of it.
We were still exploring the delicate issue of semantics as we went into Ruby Bee's. The proprietor's mouth fell open as I put Hammet on a bar stool, then hopped up on the next stool and gave her a bright smile. "Why, Arly," she said, "whoever is your little friend here?"
"Hammet Buchanon. He's one of Robin's children, and he's starving. How about a cheeseburger and a glass of milk?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Well, he's welcome to something to eat, but don't you think he might like to wash up first?"
I could tell she was thinking of a prolonged session with a sandblaster rather than a cursory encounter with soap and water in the rest room. "He hasn't had anything to eat in several days," I said. "Let's get him fed; then I'll take him back to my apartment and bathe him."
"The hell you will," contributed the object of the conversation. "Sure as cow shit stinks I ain't taking no goddamn bath. Done took one a while back."
Ruby Bee blinked, first at Hammet and then at me. "He has quite a colorful vocabulary, doesn't he? I'll start the cheeseburger right away. Would he like a bag of chips while I'm fixing it?"
"Would you?" I asked Hammet.
"Yeah, what the fuck," he conceded with a shrug.
Ruby Bee had enough sense not to roll her eyes and demand a "please" from this customer. She marched away, but I could hear her mutters all the way through the kitchen door. After a minute I heard her shrilly repeating the conversation, presumably to Estelle. I wanted to escape to the kitchen and explain that none of this was my idea to begin with, but I settled for yet another sigh, then said, "I'm not asking you where the ginseng patch is. All I want to know is if you know where it is."
"Nope. Her never did say. Somewhere on t'other side of the ridge. It were grandpappy's oncet upon a time."
"How long does your mother stay gone when she's 'seng hunting?"
"I dunno. Don't care neither. She's a mean ole sow and I hope the bears et her for supper."
"How many brothers and sisters do you have?" I asked, hoping this sudden loquaciousness would last. I'd been at Robin's cabin on another matter, and I'd seen children hovering in the shadows. But at that time I was too concerned with an escaped convict, a kidnapped bureaucrat, and all sorts of crazy shenanigans to try to count those shifting, feral creatures.
"I has four"-he paused to give me an unfathomable look "siblings, being Bubba, Sissie, Sukie, and Baby. Baby don't count for much 'cause he's too little to do anything exceptin' cry and shit in his britchins. He's about as useless as tits on a boar hog. You reckon we can jest leave him in the baby trough?"
"I doubt it, Hammet." I tossed him a bag of corn chips and spent the next five minutes praying Robin would be at the cabin when we got there. I could hand over Hammet, compliment her on her ginseng, and scoot right back down the mountain. Alone.
Ruby Bee came through the door, a plate in her hand and a disapproving expression on her face. "Here's your food," she said, banging down the plate in front of Hammet.