Precious Bones (20 page)

I turned and looked straight into the brown eyes of Little Man.

Skeeter and Smokey Reems slowly backed up. None of them wanted to scrap with Little Man—he stood a full head
above every one of them. Someone mumbled, “Yeah, bird huntin’.”

Little Man put his hand on the back of my neck, turned me around, and pushed me in front of him.

“Gol-durn it, Bones, I told you not to go scrappin’. Especially with them boys.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do, just let ’em call my daddy names?”

“It’s just names. I don’t want to be takin’ on all them boys.”

“The two of us together could lick ’em.”

“That ain’t what I want to do. Now you go on back to class. I’ll see you on the bus.”

On the bus ride home I said quietly to Little Man, “I’m really scared for Nolay. I don’t know what to think anymore. You know that day we took the train to the movies and we saw Sheriff LeRoy at the place where Peckerhead got run over?”

“Course I do. What of it?”

“Well, the sheriff was holding a red handkerchief just like the one Nolay always wears when he’s fishing and airboatin’.”

“That don’t mean nothing. There’s hundreds of red handkerchiefs around.”

“But Nolay’s
isn’t
around. I’ve looked everywhere for it. It’s nowhere to be found. And the sheriff keeps saying they have evidence against Nolay. There’s been two murders close by us, and Nolay had run-ins with both those men.”

“Bones, you gotta stop thinkin’ like that. That’s your daddy you’re talkin’ about.”

“I know that, and it scares me, but my mind won’t stop thinking about it.”

The next morning, when I walked into the classroom, a piece of paper with a cutout cartoon pasted on top was lying on my desk. The cartoon was of a blackbird, and printed on top was
jailbird
. The next morning there was a picture of a chair with the words
electric
written over it. But the worst one was on the third day. It was a picture of a piece of bacon.

Betty Jean pranced into the room and stopped by my desk. “That’s what they do to murderers in Florida, they send them to the electric chair. And they fry just like a piece of bacon. I should know. You do remember my daddy is the prosecuting attorney for Brevard County? And that is just where he is going to send your daddy.”

“Shut your mouth, Betty Jean, before I punch you in your fat nose!”

“If you do that, you’ll be joining your daddy in jail.”

That afternoon as we rode home on the bus, I showed the pictures to Little Man. I had been too ashamed to show him before. He looked at them and said, “Where did these come from?”

“Who else but Betty Jean Davis? Every morning there’s one sittin’ on top of my desk. When I look at it, her and her friends all start giggling.” I turned away from Little Man, blinking back my tears. Swallowing hard, I said, “She is so mean, I nearly hate her. And all she does is talk about how
she has a television and a swimming pool, and how her daddy is so important. If you ain’t part of her special group, she treats you like a clod of dirt. I swear, I just want to poke her right in her big nose.”

“You don’t want to be doing that, Bones; it’ll only make things worse.”

“Well, I want to do something. I’d like to put a snake down her dress. Not a bad snake, just one that would scare her half to death.”

Little Man turned to me and smiled. “Now, that there gives me an idea. Maybe you should give Betty Jean a little present.”

“A present? What kind of present?”

“You got any leftover wrapping paper and ribbon?”

“I think so. Mama usually keeps some in her cedar chest.”

“You bring some tomorrow, and I’ll bring you a little gift for Betty Jean.”

“What kind of present are you thinking of?”

Little Man winked. “I got one that lives by the front door of the chicken coop.”

Friday morning on the bus, Little Man handed me a small box. “You got the wrapping paper and ribbon?”

“Yep, right here.”

“Make sure nobody sees you.” Then, in a whisper, he said, “This here is what I want you to do.”

I followed Little Man’s instructions to the letter. Like Nolay had said, Little Man was one bright boy.

That afternoon, when everyone returned to class after
recess, a small package sat on Betty Jean’s desk. It was wrapped in white paper with a pink ribbon. There was a note written in red crayon: “From your secret admirer.”

Betty Jean picked up the little box, placed it next to her ear, and shook it. The butterfly girls fluttered around, twittering, “Open it, open it. Who’s your secret admirer? What’s inside?”

Betty Jean sat down at her desk and, with exaggerated prissiness, began to untie the pink bow. She leaned her face in as she slowly lifted the cover. A gigantic black and yellow spider leaped out of the box and onto her elbow. It ran up her arm, across her horrified face, and onto her springy brown curls.

The room filled with shrieks and screams. One of the butterfly girls fell down, and two others trampled her. Betty Jean sat at her desk, stomped her feet, and screamed hysterically. By the time Miss Watts reached her, the spider had scurried down Betty Jean’s back and dashed toward an open window and freedom.

Betty Jean sobbed uncontrollably as Miss Watts led her out of the classroom.

At the end of the day, as I was leaving the classroom, Miss Watts called me over to her desk.

“Bones, would you know anything about that spider today?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s what we call a garden spider, or a writing spider. You know, like in the story
Charlotte’s Web
. They make big pretty webs. But they don’t bite.”

“Do you have any idea how it got in that box and onto Betty Jean’s desk?”

“I reckon, like the note said, it was from a secret admirer.”

“I guess you’re right, Bones. Let’s hope her secret admirer doesn’t give her any more gifts. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

On the bus ride home, Little Man made me tell him the story over and over. Each time he laughed harder and said, “I wish I coulda seen it. She was blubberin’ in front of everyone? I wish I coulda seen it.”

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe it was sort of a mean thing to do. I didn’t think it would scare her that bad.”

“What are you talking about, Bones? You feel sorry for Betty Jean? She deserved even worse. That girl ain’t never done one good thing for anybody. Don’t go feeling sorry for someone like that.”

“Well, I reckon so. Maybe after this, she won’t be so mean.”

As I was about to get off the bus at my stop, I turned and said, “Thanks, Little Man.…”

He crinkled up his freckled face and replied, “Aw, it wadn’t nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bones.”

That evening I was helping Nolay tie up the airboat after one of his trips to the swamps. He still wasn’t wearing his red handkerchief; he had a blue one tied around his mop of black curls.

He got out of the airboat and pointed to a stand of reeds. “Bones, can you see that little bittern over there?”

A small brown-speckled bird walked cautiously through the reeds. Nolay threw a pebble in the bird’s direction. It immediately pointed its beak in the air and stood as still as a stick. It all but vanished as its little brown body blended in with the reeds.

I looked at Nolay. “You know, I been thinking. Maybe if things don’t work out—I mean, you know, it could turn out to be bad for you. Bad for all of us. Maybe we could just move into the Everglades. We could go where nobody would ever find us. We could disappear into the swamps, just like that little bittern did.”

Nolay stopped what he was doing. “Bones, do you think I killed those two men?”

“No, sir, I’m not saying that. I just don’t want you to go back to jail. I don’t want Mama to be sad. I just want us to live together and for things to be the way they were before all this happened.”

“Bones, I wish things were different, too, but they ain’t.”

“Nolay, what happened to your red handkerchief, the one you used to always wear?”

“Lost it out fishing one night. Why you ask?”

“Just wondering is all.”

“Bones, I know it’s a confusin’ time right now. It’s confusin’ for me, too. All we can do is be patient and see what ol’ LeRoy comes up with.”

“I don’t know about Sheriff LeRoy, he’s so big and clumsy. He just don’t seem to be very smart. And he moves slower than pond water.”

“Now, Bones, don’t go faulting LeRoy ’cause he’s big. And being slow don’t mean he ain’t smart. Pond water can fool ya. It can be smooth and still on the top, but you don’t know what all is goin’ on underneath. Still waters run deep.”

Nolay put his arm around my shoulders. “Come on, Bones, we best be getting back to the house. Your mama will have supper ready.”

At the dinner table as the conversation circled around things like court, lawyers, and Sheriff LeRoy’s investigation, I asked Nolay, “What if Sheriff LeRoy don’t come through? What will happen to you? Will you go to prison forever?”

“Bones, I ain’t gonna beat around the bush with you, I’m gonna be truthful. Now, I’m trusting in LeRoy that he’s gonna come through with some solid evidence, ’cause I ain’t done nothing wrong, but if things don’t work out, I could end up in prison, or even worse, sittin’ in the electric chair.”

Like a slap upside my head, I realized that Betty Jean could be right. Just the sound of the words
electric chair
felt like someone pouring ice water down my back.

Mama’s eyes snapped over in Nolay’s direction. “Nolay, for heaven’s sake, don’t talk like that. You don’t need to make things worse for Bones. It’s hard enough for any of us to understand.”

“I ain’t tryin’ to scare Bones. That ain’t my intention. But I don’t want to hide the truth from her, either.”

Mama looked over at me. “Bones, right now we have to trust in the Lord and pray that LeRoy will find the right answers.”

“Yes, ma’am, I will try harder to do that.”

I sat at the table and tried to picture LeRoy’s big clumsy body working alongside the Lord to keep Nolay from being strapped into the electric chair. But the more I thought about it, the bigger that ugly old chair got, empty and waiting for someone to sit in it. How could someone think up something as mean as that to do to people? Then I thought of something that reminded me of mean, and that was those Reems boys.

“Mama, do you know what happened to Martha and Ruthie? Since school started they haven’t showed up for one day.”

“Why, no, I don’t, Bones. This is the first I’ve heard of it. Why didn’t you mention it before?”

“I just had so many other things on my mind, I forgot.”

“Well, of course, that’s understandable. Maybe you and I can go pay them a visit tomorrow.”

“Are you sure, Mama? Remember Sheriff LeRoy told Nolay to stay clear of the Reems. I just thought you might have heard something.”

“Don’t worry about that. I am not your daddy, and I am not going out to see any of the Reems men. I am going out to see Miss Alvie.”

Nolay looked at Mama. “I don’t know, Honey Girl. You might want to stay clear of that family.”

“I just want to know what’s happening with Alvie and her kids.”

“Promise me you’ll be extra careful. And don’t be getting into no arguments with them brothers. I don’t want to have to come out there myself.”

“I will be very careful. It’s the neighborly thing to do, and I will be doing it. The sheriff said you had to stay away, not me.”

Mama picked up her fork, took a bite of food, and that was the end of the conversation.

Saturday morning, soon as I walked into the kitchen, Mama said, “We’re going out to the Reemses.”

“Mama, are you sure?”

“I am not going to get into trouble. Now, get your chores done and let’s get going.”

As soon as we pulled into the decrepit yard, the pack of half-starved dogs came to greet us, but not the dirty-faced little boys. Mama looked around and said, “Something is not
right out here.” The house stood dark and foreboding. Old Ma Reems sat in her rocking chair chewing on her wad of tobacco and staring out into nothing.

Mama gave a neighborly toot on the horn, but the house remained silent. Finally the screen door squeaked open and Whackerstacker and Fats, his eldest boy, ambled out onto Willy’s front porch. I squirmed in my seat and whispered, “Mama, maybe we should just go and come back some other time.”

“No, we are here now. I am not afraid of that mean old man. And I don’t want you to be, either.”

The two of them swaggered down the steps and up to Mama’s window. Whackerstacker spat out a long stream of black tobacco juice and said, “What y’all doin’ here?”

“I came to give my regards to Miss Alvie. Do you know where she is?”

Whackerstacker hooked his thumbs in the tops of his ratty overalls and glanced into the back of the pickup. Seeing the box he said, “Looks like you come to my house bringin’ more of your dag-blasted chairtee.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mr. Reems. That is not charity; God provides some people with an abundance to share. Now, do you know where Miss Alvie and the children are?”

“Yeah, I know where they are. I done sent her and all them brats packin’ back where they come from. I put ’em on the Greyhound bus with one-way tickets back to her mammy and pappy.”