child has been kidnapped!”
“Maybe the whole family are a bunch of nuts,” I retorted.
Daddy’s frown was so deep, his nose wrinkled. “Nightmare is a little off. But the rest of the family have good sense.”
Mama studied Daddy carefully, as if she was trying to put her finger on something he might know but that he wasn’t clear about. “James, have you had much conversation with Nightmare?”
“We’ve talked from time to time,” Daddy said. “Why?”
“I was wondering whether he’s ever mentioned his grandmother, Lucy Bell Childs.”
“Can’t say I remember anything about his grandmother.”
“What about Cricket?” I asked.
“No, he ain’t never mentioned Cricket either.”
There was a brief silence. “Has Nightmare ever mentioned the cemetery behind Rose’s trailer?” Mama prompted.
Daddy made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “No. I never knew there was a cemetery”
Mama shook her head. “Simone, tomorrow morning when you take those pictures, Rose will be here with me, and this time she
is
going to tell me what’s behind all this secrecy!”
It was dawn, Saturday morning. I was awakened from a sound sleep by Midnight’s deep-throated woof and my father’s voice. I enjoy waking up to the fragrance of summer flowers and the chirping of sparrows in Mama’s yard. But this morning, instead of being gently prodded to get out of my bed, I was snatched up by the serious argument going on in our backyard between my father and his best friend.
Even though my mind wasn’t clear, I knew that what was going down had to do with Midnight’s not wanting to be tied up.
“Boy,” my father was saying, “you can’t keep bringing home things that don’t belong to us.”
I couldn’t tell by his frantic barks whether Midnight understood my father’s reasoning or not.
I yawned.
Midnight’s yelps grew louder. “Quiet down, boy,” I heard Daddy say. “You’re going to wake Candi and she needs her rest.”
Then my father said, “I want you back in this yard in an hour, you hear?”
Midnight stopped barking; there wasn’t even a small whimper. I wondered whether he understood his curfew.
I headed to the kitchen toward the rich smell of French vanilla coffee.
“Sounds like you and Midnight had a fight,” I said when Daddy came inside.
Daddy’s expression was sour. “Yeah,” he admitted, then poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down.
I walked behind his chair and put my hands on his shoulders and began rubbing them. “Sounds like you lost.”
Daddy’s smile was a thin grin of embarrassment. “It’s not Midnight’s style to be tied to a tree.”
“I can believe that,” I said. I poured myself a cup of coffee, then joined my father.
Daddy frowned. “Baby, your mama’s right—The thing to do is not to chain Midnight but to find where he’s been digging. Folks in this town don’t cater to desecrating their dead.”
I lifted my cup and breathed in the wonderful scent of the coffee. “Did Mama tell you that Abe is expecting a report from SLED’s lab on Monday?”
Daddy sipped his coffee. “Yeah,” he said. “I surewish Midnight would go back to dragging home things that I can pay for, like boots from back porches. There’s something unholy about disturbing the dead.”
“Especially dead babies,” I whispered, thinking about Morgan Childs.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
T he sun was bright. Swarms of mosquitoes, like tiny black snowflakes, floated in the humid air.
As I had done the day before, I parked my Honda behind Rose Childs’s trailer. Then I waited for somebody else in the family to come out and throw me off their property.
Instead, all was quiet. Too quiet. Mama’s plan to draw Rose away from the cemetery by getting her to come over to our house for money to help with the funeral expenses was clever. Except that Rose lived on what I considered the Childses’ commune. Lots more family would be around to hinder me from taking pictures. On my drive here,
“Maybe the whole family are a bunch of nuts,” I retorted.
Daddy’s frown was so deep, his nose wrinkled. “Nightmare is a little off. But the rest of the family have good sense.”
Mama studied Daddy carefully, as if she was trying to put her finger on something he might know but that he wasn’t clear about. “James, have you had much conversation with Nightmare?”
“We’ve talked from time to time,” Daddy said. “Why?”
“I was wondering whether he’s ever mentioned his grandmother, Lucy Bell Childs.”
“Can’t say I remember anything about his grandmother.”
“What about Cricket?” I asked.
“No, he ain’t never mentioned Cricket either.”
There was a brief silence. “Has Nightmare ever mentioned the cemetery behind Rose’s trailer?” Mama prompted.
Daddy made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “No. I never knew there was a cemetery”
Mama shook her head. “Simone, tomorrow morning when you take those pictures, Rose will be here with me, and this time she
is
going to tell me what’s behind all this secrecy!”
It was dawn, Saturday morning. I was awakened from a sound sleep by Midnight’s deep-throated woof and my father’s voice. I enjoy waking up to the fragrance of summer flowers and the chirping of sparrows in Mama’s yard. But this morning, instead of being gently prodded to get out of my bed, I was snatched up by the serious argument going on in our backyard between my father and his best friend.
Even though my mind wasn’t clear, I knew that what was going down had to do with Midnight’s not wanting to be tied up.
“Boy,” my father was saying, “you can’t keep bringing home things that don’t belong to us.”
I couldn’t tell by his frantic barks whether Midnight understood my father’s reasoning or not.
I yawned.
Midnight’s yelps grew louder. “Quiet down, boy,” I heard Daddy say. “You’re going to wake Candi and she needs her rest.”
Then my father said, “I want you back in this yard in an hour, you hear?”
Midnight stopped barking; there wasn’t even a small whimper. I wondered whether he understood his curfew.
I headed to the kitchen toward the rich smell of French vanilla coffee.
“Sounds like you and Midnight had a fight,” I said when Daddy came inside.
Daddy’s expression was sour. “Yeah,” he admitted, then poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down.
I walked behind his chair and put my hands on his shoulders and began rubbing them. “Sounds like you lost.”
Daddy’s smile was a thin grin of embarrassment. “It’s not Midnight’s style to be tied to a tree.”
“I can believe that,” I said. I poured myself a cup of coffee, then joined my father.
Daddy frowned. “Baby, your mama’s right—The thing to do is not to chain Midnight but to find where he’s been digging. Folks in this town don’t cater to desecrating their dead.”
I lifted my cup and breathed in the wonderful scent of the coffee. “Did Mama tell you that Abe is expecting a report from SLED’s lab on Monday?”
Daddy sipped his coffee. “Yeah,” he said. “I surewish Midnight would go back to dragging home things that I can pay for, like boots from back porches. There’s something unholy about disturbing the dead.”
“Especially dead babies,” I whispered, thinking about Morgan Childs.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
T he sun was bright. Swarms of mosquitoes, like tiny black snowflakes, floated in the humid air.
As I had done the day before, I parked my Honda behind Rose Childs’s trailer. Then I waited for somebody else in the family to come out and throw me off their property.
Instead, all was quiet. Too quiet. Mama’s plan to draw Rose away from the cemetery by getting her to come over to our house for money to help with the funeral expenses was clever. Except that Rose lived on what I considered the Childses’ commune. Lots more family would be around to hinder me from taking pictures. On my drive here,
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