“You ain’t never done nothing with me but cut my hair, and you didn’t know how to cut a boy’s hair anyway.” I turned and went out by the tunnel. “And I ought to blow one of your legs off for what you done to Toby.”
“He hurt Toby?” Tom said. “Gimme that gun.”
She made as if to grab it, and in the same moment Cecil stepped forward. I pushed Tom aside and brought the shotgun up.
“I thought you was wantin’ to go your own way.”
He smiled. “I am, Harry. You can’t fault a fella for tryin’.”
“I can,” I said. “Tom. Go!”
We hustled through the tunnel, and I listened for him following, looking back now and then, but I didn’t hear nor see any sign of him.
We come out of the tunnel and went past the tree where the first body had been found, and down to where I’d pulled the boat on shore. I figured if we went through the woods he might get us, but if we took the boat downriver it would be hard for him to track us, if that was his notion.
I was hoping it wasn’t.
When we got down to the river, the boat, which I hadn’t been able to pull up completely on shore, had been washed into the river by the rain-dappled current. I could see it in the distance, flowing away at a rapid pace.
“Damn,” I said.
“Was that Mose’s boat?” Tom asked.
“We got to go by the bank, to the Swinging Bridge.”
“It’s a long ways,” I heard Cecil say.
I spun around, and there he was up on the higher bank next to the tree where me and Tom had found the body. He was just a big shadow next to the tree, and I thought of the devil come up from the ground, all dark and evil and full of bluff. Maybe Cecil wasn’t the Travelin’ Man after all, but in fact was Beelzebub himself, one Miss Maggie told me about.
Cecil stepped out from behind the tree, and the moonlight caught the blade of the cane knife, made me think of a story I had read once about Death and his scythe.
“You got a long ways to go, children. A long ways.”
I pointed the shotgun at him and he slipped behind the tree out of sight, said, “A long ways.”
I knew then I should have killed him. Or at least taken the cane knife. Now, without the boat, he could follow alongside us, back up in the woods there, and we couldn’t even see him.
Me and Tom started moving brisk-like along the bank, and we could hear Cecil moving through the woods on the higher bank above us, and finally we didn’t hear him anymore. It was the same as that night when we heard the sounds near and in the tunnel. I figured it had been him, maybe come down to see his handiwork at the tree there, liking it perhaps, wanting it to be seen by someone. Maybe we had come down right after he finished doing it. He had been stalking us, or Tom maybe. Could be he had wanted Tom all along.
We walked fast and Tom was cussing most of the time, talking about what Cecil had done with his fingers. The whole thing was making me sick.
“Just shut up, Tom. Shut up.”
She started crying. I stopped and got down on one knee, let the shotgun lay against me as I reached out with both hands and took hold of her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Tom, really. I’m scared too. We got to keep ourselves together, you hear me?”
“I hear you,” she said.
“We got to stay the course here. I got a gun. He don’t. He may have already given up.”
“He ain’t give up, and you know it.”
“We got to keep moving.”
Tom nodded, and we started out again. Pretty soon the long dark shadow of the Swinging Bridge was visible across the river, and the wind was high, and the bridge thrashed back and forth and creaked and groaned like rusty hinges.
“We could go on down a ways, Tom, but I think we got to cross by the bridge here. It’s quicker, and we can be home sooner.”
“I’m scared, Harry.”
“So am I. Can you do it?”
Tom sucked in her top lip and nodded. “I can.”
We climbed up the bank where the bridge began and looked down it. It swung back and forth. White foam rose from the dark water below, rolled away and crashed over the little falls into the broader, deeper, slower part of the river, but on this rainy, windy night, even that flowed fast.
The woods seemed quiet, yet full of something I couldn’t put a name to. Now and again, in spite of the rain, the clouds would split and the moon would shine down on us. The rain was growing stronger, and I knew before long there would be only clouds and lots of rain and little to no moonlight. That would only make matters worse.
Like that other time, I decided to cross first, so if a board gave out Tom would know. When I stepped on the bridge, the wind and my weight made it swing wide, and I darn near tipped into the water. When I reached out to grab the cables, I let go of the shotgun. It went into the water, making no sound over the roar of the water.
“You lost it, Harry,” Tom yelled from the bank.
“Come on, just hang on to the cables.”
Tom stepped onto the bridge. It swung violently, nearly tipped again.
“We got to walk light,” I said, “and kind of together. When I take a step, you take one. But if a board goes, or I go, you’ll see in time.”
“If you fall, what do I do?”
“You got to go on across, Tom.”
We continued, having gotten the movement right, because we weren’t wobbling as badly as before. Still, it was slow work, and I began to suspect we might have been better off traveling down the bank until we could cross in the shallows. But that route was dark, the trees grew close to the water, and it would have been easy for Cecil to have snatched us.
But now, on this bridge, going slowly, the wind and rain blowing, I found myself reconsidering. But, of course, there was no going back. We had the same distance to go to cross that we did going back. And I no longer had the shotgun.
I turned, looked down the length of the bridge, past Tom. I didn’t see anyone tryin’ to follow.
It was slow going, but it wasn’t long before we were six feet from the other side. I began to breathe again. Then I realized after we crossed the bridge we still had a ways to go till we got to the wide trail, then the road. But there wasn’t any road would stop Cecil or anyone else. It was just a road. If we got that far, we still had more distance to travel, and Cecil would know where we were going, and Mama and Daddy might not even be home yet. As for Grandma, I didn’t know if she had gone back to the house, in search of Mama and Daddy, or driven off for help. For that matter, she could still be lying where I had left her.
I thought if we got to the road, I might try and fool Cecil by going the other way. The drawback was it was a longer distance in that direction to anyone’s house, and if Cecil figured what we were doin’, we could be in worse trouble. I decided the only thing to do was to head straight home and stay cautious.
While all this was on my mind, and we were about to reach the opposite bank, a chunk of the bank moved and the shadows that clustered around it moved too. Cecil, looking as if he had crawled through a working cotton gin, stepped into view holding the cane knife.
The look on his face said it all. He had us. I tossed a glance over my shoulder at Tom. The look she gave me back was one that expected some kind of answer.
I thought maybe we could turn back, but before I could make the decision, I glanced at Cecil, saw him stick the cane knife in the dirt beside him. Staying on solid ground, he took hold of both sides of the cables that held the Swinging Bridge, said, “I beat you across, boy. Hurried down and crossed in the shallows, like you should have done. Then I just waited. Now you and little Tom, you’re gonna have to take a dip. I didn’t want it this way, but that’s how it is. You see that, don’t you? All I wanted was Tom. You give her to me right now, let her cross to this side, you can go. By the time you get home, me and her, we’ll be on our way, and I’ll keep goin’ from there. That’s all the deal I can offer, Harry.”