Precious Bones (26 page)

Me and Mama looked at each other across the table. “Mama, you know Ironhead said Nolay wasn’t fishing with him that night. When you asked him about it, he said he was up in Jacksonville. Why did he tell the sheriff he was out fishing?”

“Hush, we’ll talk about this another time.”

Nolay walked back in. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, put his hands in his pockets, and said, “Well, am I right or am I right? Bones, what do you think? Ol’ LeRoy might be slow as pond water, but it looks like he’s stirrin’ it up a little bit.”

“Yes, sir, I reckon he’s doing something, I’m just not quite sure what. All I know is it sure took him long enough to spill out that story.”

Nolay shook his head. “You’re right about that, LeRoy does take the long road when he’s explainin’ something. But by and by he gets to his destination.”

“I just wish he could be quicker finding some ‘solid evidence.’ Whatever that means.”

After me and Mama finished with the dishes, we went in the living room. Nolay had built a big fire in the fireplace. The room filled with the warm aroma of burning pine. Nolay was sitting on the couch. “Bones, Lori, y’all come on over here and sit down.”

Nolay put one arm around me and the other around
Mama. We watched silently as blue and yellow tongues of flames leaped up and chased each other around the pine logs.

Mama was first to break the silence. “Nolay, what do you think all this means? Some of it makes perfect sense, and then LeRoy says you are still the prime suspect.”

“Lori, at least LeRoy is investigatin’. I have a feeling he’s sniffing out something. And I tell you what, I don’t mind being the prime suspect for the time being, as long as I don’t have to go back to jail. I think LeRoy is doing the best he can to see that that don’t happen.”

Nolay squeezed me and said, “Bones, how big is that baby rooster of Ikibob’s?”

“It’s gettin’ to be a pretty good size. Big enough that Ikibob is starting to peck after it. You know how he is about another rooster being in his yard, even if it is his own son.”

“How about tomorrow when you come home from school, me and you go pay Charlie a visit? I think we need to give him a little present.”

Thursday morning soon as I sat down next to Little Man on the school bus, I told him about the sheriff’s visit. “I mean, I know he’s doing something, but it seems like he could be doing more. I just wish he would hurry up.”

“Bones, he’s moving about as fast as he can. You gotta be patient.”

“But he’s so confusing. I mean, is he trying help Nolay with evidence or put him in jail with evidence?”

“The sheriff don’t want no harm to come to Mr. Nolay.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Now, that part about the Yankee man’s partner sounds right promising, but that part about Mr. Charlie sounds like a concern.”

“I can’t imagine Mr. Charlie hurting anyone, not even one of the Reems brothers.”

“It don’t sound right. I think the truth will uncover itself.”

“Me and Nolay are going out to go visit Mr. Charlie today after school. I’ll let you know what we find out.”

“I sure am curious.”

After school, I could hardly wait to jump off that school bus and run home. I went straight to my room and changed clothes. Nolay was outside chopping some firewood.

“Nolay, are you ready? I’ll go get the little rooster.”

“Let me finish up here and I’ll meet you at the truck.”

I went to the chicken coop and picked up the baby rooster. As I walked out with him under my arm, Ikibob cocked his big head and glared coldly in our direction. “Ikibob,” I said, “you don’t have to look at him so mean. You have not been very nice to him lately. I’m taking him to a place where he’ll be loved and cared for, just like you are here.” Ikibob blinked his stone-yellow eyes at me, shook his floppy red cockscomb, and strutted out into the yard.

Nolay and I got in the truck and headed to Charlie’s. I clutched the young rooster close to my body to keep him calm. We rode along in silence; the truck tires crunched on top of dry sand, sending up little gray dust devils.

Nolay turned down the guava-tree tunnel to Charlie’s house. As we pulled into the yard, the brown carpet of chickens split apart like a giant zipper.

Soon as Nolay tooted the horn, the screen door squeaked open and Charlie, dressed in his usual faded overalls, stepped out on the porch.

Nolay and I got out of the truck and walked up to the porch. Charlie’s round, plump face broke into a huge grin as
he recognized us. “Well, howdy, Nolay, Miz Bones. What brings y’all out this side?”

Nolay leaned up against the porch railing. “Howdy, Charlie. Me and Bones just stopped by to bring you a little present.”

“A present? For me? Why, lordy, now … y’all just come on up here and sit for a spell.” Charlie gently picked up a fat brown hen sitting in a rickety cane chair and set her on the floor. “This here is Lorraine. She ain’t nestin’, she’s just relaxin’.” Charlie brushed off the chair’s seat. “Miz Bones, you just sit yourself down right here. Nolay, you want me to get you a chair?”

“Naw, Charlie, I’m fine right here. Thank ya.”

Charlie limped over to his well-used rocking chair and sat down. I walked over to him and held out the young rooster. “Mr. Charlie, this is one of Ikibob’s babies. I know you been wanting one for a long time.”

Charlie’s eyes glistened with happiness. He carefully wrapped his thick hands around the rooster and held him up in front of his face. “Lordy, look at this fella, ain’t he beautiful?” He sat the rooster in his lap and stroked its smooth feathers as though it were a puppy. “Thank you, Bones, thank you. This here is about the best present I ever did get in my whole life.”

I sat down in my chair. Charlie continued to admire the little rooster. “I think he looks just like his daddy, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir, I reckon he does. And from the looks of his size, I think he’s gonna be just about as big.”

Charlie nodded in agreement, the rows of fat under his neck jiggling in harmony. “I’m gonna name him Sonny. Sonny-Boy. And he’s gonna stay in the house with me until he gets big enough to be boss of this here yard.”

I looked out at the sea of chickens as they scratched, pecked, and clucked in the yard. “Mr. Charlie, do you have a name for every one of those chickens?”

“Well now, I do have to admit, there might be a few that I didn’t get around to naming. But named or not, every one of ’em is special.”

“I was wondering about something. What happens when they … you know … when they grow old and stuff?”

“You mean when they die? Well, of course that does happen. And when it does, I got a pit around the back of the house. I place ’em in there, real respectful like; sometimes I say a little prayer, then I cover ’em up with leaves and ma-newer. I ain’t never be able to eat any of ’em. Just their aigs. They’re more like my friends and family. I could never bring myself to hurt one of ’em.”

“You bury them in manure?”

“Now, Miz Bones, I know that might sound right strange. But what I do is just like my granddaddy taught me. Every day I rake up all the chicken droppins’ in my yard and put ’em in that pit, along with any of my birds that has passed on. Before you know it, the good Lord melts it all down and turns it into the best fertilizer a person could use.” Charlie reached down and repositioned the rooster in his ample lap. “Farmers come from all over to buy my fertilizer. I feel like my birds being mixed in with it, it’s like giving ’em a chance to be part of life
again. That’s something my granddaddy passed on to me before he went to heaven.”

Nolay placed his foot on one of the steps and leaned in toward the two of us. “Charlie, I been curious about something. You remember when we stopped by a couple months ago and ol’ Peckerhead was here?”

Charlie looked down at the floor. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Was he over here just visiting?”

“Yeah, he was just visiting.”

“You sure about that, Charlie? ’Cause ol’ Peckerhead didn’t seem the neighborly type to just stop by for a visit.”

Charlie kept his eyes down as he gently stroked the rooster in his lap.

Nolay said, “Charlie, what was ol’ Peckerhead up to? Was he over here pestering you about something?”

Charlie looked up at Nolay. Wrinkles of concern crept across his pudgy face. “He had a paper. He said I had to sign it, that if I didn’t, he’d burn my house down.”

“What kind of paper?”

“It was a paper to try and make me sell this here land. He wanted my land. Told me I didn’t need it. I could take the money and go live in a trailer somewhere.” Charlie looked out over his yard full of chickens. “What would I do with all of ’em? If I didn’t have this land, what would happen to ’em? They cain’t live in no trailer.”

“Charlie, this is your land, free and clear. You’ve lived here nearly all your life and cain’t nobody take it away from you. Ol’ Peckerhead was just trying to scare you and pull a fast one.” Nolay leaned closer. “Charlie, the night Peckerhead got
run over by that freight train, do you know anything about that?”

A flicker of fear crossed Charlie’s face; he pressed his lips together and shook his head back and forth. Ripples of fat ran down his neck and disappeared into his overalls.

“Charlie, I’m here as your friend. Did you see something? Is there something you need to tell me?”

Charlie slowly looked up at Nolay again. “I did see something, but I cain’t talk about it.”

Nolay looked down at Charlie’s bare feet. “Charlie, Sheriff LeRoy is coming out here to talk to you.”

“Oh Lordy, I don’t want to talk to him. I have done something bad.” Charlie looked at me with a face as sad as an old hound dog’s.

“Miz Bones, you done come and give me this fine rooster, and I just don’t deserve it.” Charlie’s voice squeaked as he continued. “I sure am sorry. I know what I done was wrong. I shoulda told the sheriff what I seen. But I just couldn’t, I just couldn’t.” He hung his huge head and softly said, “I ain’t no better than a cracked aig. Ain’t no good for nothin’. Just an ol’ cracked aig.”

Nolay shook his head. “Now, Charlie, I don’t want you to be feelin’ that way. I’m sure you had your reasons. I’m gonna set it up so I’ll be around when the sheriff comes out here. We’ll talk it out and set everything straight. You hear me, Charlie? We’ll work everything out.”

Nolay looked at me. “Bones, we best be headin’ back now.”

As I got up to leave, Charlie said to me, “Miz Bones, if you
don’t want me to keep this here rooster, you can have ’im back.”

“Why, no, sir, Mr. Charlie, that’s your rooster. And I know Sonny-Boy is gonna be mighty happy living here with you.”

“Thank ya, Miz Bones. I sure am proud to have ’im.”

“And Mr. Charlie, you ain’t no cracked egg. You’re just about the finest Humpty Dumpty I could ever imagine.”

Charlie looked at me and laughed, his round belly jiggling like Jell-O under his overalls. “Why, thank you, Miz Bones, I sure will take that as a compliment.”

As Nolay slowly pulled the truck out of the front yard, I looked out the window. Charlie sat in his old rocking chair, the little rooster perched contentedly in his lap.

On the way home I asked Nolay, “Do you think Mr. Charlie was involved in killing ol’ Peckerhead?”

“Naw, I don’t think that.”

“Do you think he saw something he shouldn’t have?”

“It appears that way.”

“Nolay, if you knew who killed Peckerhead, would you let Mr. Charlie go to jail or the electric chair?”

Nolay glanced at me. “What kind of fool question is that?”

“Well, if you know he didn’t do it but maybe you know who did do it … well … I don’t know.”

Nolay shook his head. “Bones, I don’t know, either. If I knew who killed that ol’ scallywag, I’d tell the sheriff. All I know is that old man don’t deserve nothing harmful to come to him. I’ve known Charlie all my life, knew him when his grandparents were still alive. Ain’t never heard Charlie say a mean word against anyone.”

“Yes, sir, I feel the same way.” I turned and looked out the window. My reflection stared back at me. Questions were bubbling up in my mind like a shook-up bottle of Coca-Cola. Who did Charlie see out there? Why didn’t he want to tell us?

Would he tell Sheriff LeRoy?