but I think it’s not far from here to the swinging bridge. We cross that, we can hit the main road, walk to the house.”
“The swinging bridge?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Think Momma and Daddy are worried?” Tom asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Reckon they are. I hope they’ll be glad to see these squirrels as I think they’ll be.”
“What about Toby?”
“We just got to wait and see.”
The bank sloped down, and near the water there was a little trail ran along the edge of the river.
“Reckon we got to carry Toby down, then bring the wheelbarrow. You can push it forward, and I’ll get in front and boost it down.”
I carefully picked up Toby, who whimpered softly, and Tom, getting ahead of herself, pushed the wheelbarrow. It, the squirrels, shotgun, and shovel went over the edge, tipped over near the creek.
“Damn it, Tom,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It got away from me. I’m gonna tell Mama you cussed.”
“You do and I’ll whup the tar out of you. ‘Sides, I heard you cussin’ plenty.”
I gave Toby to Tom to hold till I could go down a ways, get a footing and have him passed to me.
I slid down the bank, came up against a huge oak growing near the water. The brambles had grown down the bank and were wrapped around the tree. I went around it, put my hand out to steady myself, and jerked it back quick. What I had touched hadn’t been tree trunk, or even a thorn, but something soft.
When I looked I saw a gray mess hung up in brambles, and the moonlight was shining across the water and falling on a face, or what had been a face, but was more like a jack-o’-lantern now, swollen and round with dark sockets for eyes. There was a wad of hair on the head like a chunk of dark lamb’s wool, and the body was swollen up and twisted and without clothes. A woman.
I had seen a couple of cards with naked women on them that Jake Sterning had shown me. He was always coming up with stuff like that ‘cause his daddy was a traveling salesman and sold not only Garrett Snuff but what was called novelties on the side.
But this wasn’t like that. Those pictures had stirred me in a way I didn’t understand but found somehow sweet and satisfying. This was stirring me in a way I understood immediately. Horror. Fear.
Her breasts were split like rotted melons cracked in the sun. The brambles were tightly wrapped around her swollen flesh and her skin was gray as cigar ash. Her feet weren’t touching the ground. She was held against the tree by the brambles. In the moonlight she looked like a fat witch bound to a massive post by barbed wire, ready to be burned.
“Jesus,” I said.
“You’re cussin’ again,” Tom said.
I climbed up the bank a bit, took Toby from Tom, laid him on the soft ground by the riverbank, stared some more at the body. Tom slid down, saw what I saw.
“Is it the Goat Man?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “It’s a dead woman.”
“She ain’t got no clothes on.”
“No, she ain’t. Don’t look at her, Tom.”
“I can’t help it.”
“We got to get home, tell Daddy.”
“Light a match, Harry. Let’s get a good look.”
I considered on that, finally dug in my pocket. “I just got one left.”
“Use it.”
I struck the match with my thumb and held it out. The match wavered as my hand shook. I got up as close as I could stand to get. It was even more horrible by match light.
“I think it’s a colored woman,” I said.
The match went out. I righted the wheelbarrow, shook mud out of the end of the shotgun, put it and the squirrels and Toby back in the wheelbarrow. I couldn’t find the shovel, figured it had slid on down into the river and was gone. That was going to cost me.
“We got to get on,” I said.
Tom was standing on the bank, staring at the body. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it.
“Come on!”
Tom tore herself away. We went along the bank, me pushing that wheelbarrow for all I was worth, it bogging in the soft dirt until I
“The swinging bridge?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Think Momma and Daddy are worried?” Tom asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Reckon they are. I hope they’ll be glad to see these squirrels as I think they’ll be.”
“What about Toby?”
“We just got to wait and see.”
The bank sloped down, and near the water there was a little trail ran along the edge of the river.
“Reckon we got to carry Toby down, then bring the wheelbarrow. You can push it forward, and I’ll get in front and boost it down.”
I carefully picked up Toby, who whimpered softly, and Tom, getting ahead of herself, pushed the wheelbarrow. It, the squirrels, shotgun, and shovel went over the edge, tipped over near the creek.
“Damn it, Tom,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It got away from me. I’m gonna tell Mama you cussed.”
“You do and I’ll whup the tar out of you. ‘Sides, I heard you cussin’ plenty.”
I gave Toby to Tom to hold till I could go down a ways, get a footing and have him passed to me.
I slid down the bank, came up against a huge oak growing near the water. The brambles had grown down the bank and were wrapped around the tree. I went around it, put my hand out to steady myself, and jerked it back quick. What I had touched hadn’t been tree trunk, or even a thorn, but something soft.
When I looked I saw a gray mess hung up in brambles, and the moonlight was shining across the water and falling on a face, or what had been a face, but was more like a jack-o’-lantern now, swollen and round with dark sockets for eyes. There was a wad of hair on the head like a chunk of dark lamb’s wool, and the body was swollen up and twisted and without clothes. A woman.
I had seen a couple of cards with naked women on them that Jake Sterning had shown me. He was always coming up with stuff like that ‘cause his daddy was a traveling salesman and sold not only Garrett Snuff but what was called novelties on the side.
But this wasn’t like that. Those pictures had stirred me in a way I didn’t understand but found somehow sweet and satisfying. This was stirring me in a way I understood immediately. Horror. Fear.
Her breasts were split like rotted melons cracked in the sun. The brambles were tightly wrapped around her swollen flesh and her skin was gray as cigar ash. Her feet weren’t touching the ground. She was held against the tree by the brambles. In the moonlight she looked like a fat witch bound to a massive post by barbed wire, ready to be burned.
“Jesus,” I said.
“You’re cussin’ again,” Tom said.
I climbed up the bank a bit, took Toby from Tom, laid him on the soft ground by the riverbank, stared some more at the body. Tom slid down, saw what I saw.
“Is it the Goat Man?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “It’s a dead woman.”
“She ain’t got no clothes on.”
“No, she ain’t. Don’t look at her, Tom.”
“I can’t help it.”
“We got to get home, tell Daddy.”
“Light a match, Harry. Let’s get a good look.”
I considered on that, finally dug in my pocket. “I just got one left.”
“Use it.”
I struck the match with my thumb and held it out. The match wavered as my hand shook. I got up as close as I could stand to get. It was even more horrible by match light.
“I think it’s a colored woman,” I said.
The match went out. I righted the wheelbarrow, shook mud out of the end of the shotgun, put it and the squirrels and Toby back in the wheelbarrow. I couldn’t find the shovel, figured it had slid on down into the river and was gone. That was going to cost me.
“We got to get on,” I said.
Tom was standing on the bank, staring at the body. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it.
“Come on!”
Tom tore herself away. We went along the bank, me pushing that wheelbarrow for all I was worth, it bogging in the soft dirt until I
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