’em good.”
“How many people reside in this town?”
“About forty, forty-one if you count Norville out there in the box. But, way things look, considerin’ our deal, he’ll be leavin’. ’Sides, he don’t live here direct anyway.”
“That number count the kids?”
“Yeah, they all belong to Mary. They’re thirteen and on down to six years. Drops them like turds and don’t know for sure who’s the daddy, though there’s one of them out there that looks a mite like me.”
“Bless his heart,” the Reverend said.
“Yeah, reckon that’s the truth. Couple of ’em have died over the years. One got kicked in the head by a horse and the other one got caught up in the river and drowned. Stupid little bastard should have learned to swim. There was an older girl, but she took up with Norville out there, and now she’s run off from him.”
When the meat was as black as a pit and smoking like a rich man’s cigar, Reverend Mercer discovered there were no plates, and he ate it from the frying pan, using his knife as a utensil. It was a rugged piece of meat to wrestle and it tasted like the ass end of a skunk. He ate just enough to knock the corners off his hunger, then gave it up.
Jud asked if he were through with it, and when the Reverend said he was, he came over, picked up the leavings with his hands and tore at it like a wolf.
“Hell, this is all right,” Jud said. “I need you on as a cook.”
“Not likely. How do people make a living around here?”
“Lumber. Cut it and mule it out. That’s a thing about East Texas, plenty of lumber.”
“Someday there will be a lot less, that is my reasoning.”
“It all grows back.”
“People grow back faster, and we could do with a lot less of them.”
“On that matter, Reverend, I agree with you.”
When the Reverend went outside with Jud to let Norville loose, the kids were still throwing rocks. The Reverend picked up a rock and winged it through the air and caught one of the kids on the side of the head hard enough to knock him down.
“Damn,” Jud said. “That there was a kid.”
“Now he’s a kid with a knot on his head.”
“You’re a different kind of Reverend.”
The kid got up and ran, holding his hand to his head, squealing.
“Keep going you horrible little bastard,” Reverend Mercer said. When the kid was gone, the Reverend said, “Actually, I was aiming to hit him in the back, but that worked out quite well.”
They walked over to the cage. There was a metal lock and a big padlock on the thick wooden bars. Reverend Mercer had wondered why the man didn’t just kick them out, but then he saw the reason. He was chained to the floor of the wagon. The chain fit into a big metal loop there, and then went to his ankle where a bracelet of iron held him fast. Norville had a lot of lumps on his head and his bottom lip was swollen up and he was bleeding all over.
“This is no way to treat a man,” Reverend Mercer said.
“He could have been a few rocks shy of a dozen knots, you hadn’t stopped to cook and eat a steak.”
“True enough,” the Reverend said.
CHAPTER 2
NORVILLE’S STORY: THE HOUSE IN THE PINES
The sheriff unlocked the cage and went inside and unlocked the clamp around Norville’s ankle. Norville, barefoot, came out of the cage and walked around and looked at the sky, stretching his back as he did. Jud sauntered over to the long porch and reached under it and pulled out some old boots. He gave them to Norville. Norville pulled them on, then came around the side of the cage and studied the Reverend.
“Thank you for lettin’ me out,” Norville said. “I ain’t crazy, you know. I seen what I seen and they don’t want to hear it none.”
“’Cause you’re crazy,” Jud said.
“What did you see?” the Reverend asked.
“He starts talkin’ that business again, I’ll throw him back in the box,” Jud said. “Our deal was he goes with you, and I figure you’ve worn out your
“How many people reside in this town?”
“About forty, forty-one if you count Norville out there in the box. But, way things look, considerin’ our deal, he’ll be leavin’. ’Sides, he don’t live here direct anyway.”
“That number count the kids?”
“Yeah, they all belong to Mary. They’re thirteen and on down to six years. Drops them like turds and don’t know for sure who’s the daddy, though there’s one of them out there that looks a mite like me.”
“Bless his heart,” the Reverend said.
“Yeah, reckon that’s the truth. Couple of ’em have died over the years. One got kicked in the head by a horse and the other one got caught up in the river and drowned. Stupid little bastard should have learned to swim. There was an older girl, but she took up with Norville out there, and now she’s run off from him.”
When the meat was as black as a pit and smoking like a rich man’s cigar, Reverend Mercer discovered there were no plates, and he ate it from the frying pan, using his knife as a utensil. It was a rugged piece of meat to wrestle and it tasted like the ass end of a skunk. He ate just enough to knock the corners off his hunger, then gave it up.
Jud asked if he were through with it, and when the Reverend said he was, he came over, picked up the leavings with his hands and tore at it like a wolf.
“Hell, this is all right,” Jud said. “I need you on as a cook.”
“Not likely. How do people make a living around here?”
“Lumber. Cut it and mule it out. That’s a thing about East Texas, plenty of lumber.”
“Someday there will be a lot less, that is my reasoning.”
“It all grows back.”
“People grow back faster, and we could do with a lot less of them.”
“On that matter, Reverend, I agree with you.”
When the Reverend went outside with Jud to let Norville loose, the kids were still throwing rocks. The Reverend picked up a rock and winged it through the air and caught one of the kids on the side of the head hard enough to knock him down.
“Damn,” Jud said. “That there was a kid.”
“Now he’s a kid with a knot on his head.”
“You’re a different kind of Reverend.”
The kid got up and ran, holding his hand to his head, squealing.
“Keep going you horrible little bastard,” Reverend Mercer said. When the kid was gone, the Reverend said, “Actually, I was aiming to hit him in the back, but that worked out quite well.”
They walked over to the cage. There was a metal lock and a big padlock on the thick wooden bars. Reverend Mercer had wondered why the man didn’t just kick them out, but then he saw the reason. He was chained to the floor of the wagon. The chain fit into a big metal loop there, and then went to his ankle where a bracelet of iron held him fast. Norville had a lot of lumps on his head and his bottom lip was swollen up and he was bleeding all over.
“This is no way to treat a man,” Reverend Mercer said.
“He could have been a few rocks shy of a dozen knots, you hadn’t stopped to cook and eat a steak.”
“True enough,” the Reverend said.
CHAPTER 2
NORVILLE’S STORY: THE HOUSE IN THE PINES
The sheriff unlocked the cage and went inside and unlocked the clamp around Norville’s ankle. Norville, barefoot, came out of the cage and walked around and looked at the sky, stretching his back as he did. Jud sauntered over to the long porch and reached under it and pulled out some old boots. He gave them to Norville. Norville pulled them on, then came around the side of the cage and studied the Reverend.
“Thank you for lettin’ me out,” Norville said. “I ain’t crazy, you know. I seen what I seen and they don’t want to hear it none.”
“’Cause you’re crazy,” Jud said.
“What did you see?” the Reverend asked.
“He starts talkin’ that business again, I’ll throw him back in the box,” Jud said. “Our deal was he goes with you, and I figure you’ve worn out your
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