Dark River Road Page 5

  Someone came and burned a cross in Dempsey’s yard that night. Chantry woke up when he heard truck tires scratching off down Liberty Road. He looked out the window and saw a red truck fly past, then saw the glow of flickering flames light up the night sky. He put on his pants and climbed out his window and looked up the road. Then he saw the burning cross.

  “Hold on, boy,” a thick voice said from the porch shadows when Chantry leaped off the porch to go see about Dempsey, “where you think you’re goin’?”

  Rainey. Chantry stopped and turned to look at him. He sat on the porch steps smoking a cigarette, face lit up by the fire and moonlight. His eyes squinted with a mean look, but his lips stretched into a smile of satisfaction.

  “You knew about this,” Chantry said. “Why?”

  Rainey took a deep drag off his cigarette, then he flipped it out into the yard. “Some folks don’t need to forgit what they are.”

  “If you’re talking about Dempsey, he’s a better man than you’ll ever be,” Chantry said back hard and quick. Anger made his chest tight and his hands curl into fists at his sides.

  He’d forgotten Rainey could move so fast. He was up off that porch step in a flash, and swung his left arm so quick Chantry couldn’t jerk back fast enough. Rainey’s fist clipped his jaw and sent him staggering back against the side of the house. Then Rainey had him by a hand full of hair and banged his head against the wood siding.

  “You lissen to me, boy, I done tolerated enough of your going off down to that house all the time. Now you’re dumb enough to play with that little yella gal right in the Quinton’s front yard? Shee-yit!”

  Chantry just looked at him. Chris Quinton. Who else would have told everybody about what happened? And Chris had a new red truck . . .

  “What is going on out here?” Mama asked from the front door, and Rainey let go of Chantry’s hair and turned around to look at her.

  “I caught him tryin’ to sneak out of the house,” Rainey said. “Or maybe back in.”

  Mama looked past Rainey and Chantry to the burning cross in Dempsey’s front yard. Her lips tightened. She looked back at Rainey. “If I find out you had anything at all to do with this, Rainey Lassiter,” she said quietly, “I will ensure that you are arrested.”

  Rainey grinned. “You think anybody in this town would arrest me for it, even if I had planted that cross?”

  “Perhaps not, but the Federal authorities might be very interested in finding the culprit.”

  One thing about Mama, she didn’t bluff. If she said she was going to do something, she did it, and Rainey knew that just as well as Chantry did. His grin disappeared, and he didn’t say a word when Mama told Chantry to go down and help Dempsey put out the fire.

  Dempsey had it almost out by the time Chantry got there. It wasn’t a big cross, just two six foot one-by-two strips of dry pine doused with gasoline. The cross-piece had been nailed on and come loose, and Chantry kicked the thing down so that it lay flat on the ground. Tufts of dry grass burned, but Dempsey used a garden hose to wet everything down.

  For a moment neither one of them said anything. Then Chantry looked up to see Tansy standing on the front porch in her pajamas. She had her arms crossed over her chest like she was cold, but it was a hot night even without the fire. There was a look on her face like she’d had when her mama died. Desolation, disbelief.

  “Go on back inside, baby,” Dempsey said gently, and after another look at the still smoldering cross making charred marks in the grass, she turned around without a word and went back inside.

  “Chris Quinton did this,” Chantry said quietly, and Dempsey shrugged.

  “It don’t matter who did it.”

  “It matters to me.”

  Dempsey looked at him with a faint smile. “There was a time not so long ago when men would have come with a rope and I’d be hanging from a tree limb. No one would’ve done much about that, either.”

  Chantry looked at him for a minute. Dempsey had a weary look in his eyes, like a man who’s seen things he didn’t want to, and never wanted to see again. It made him think about the whispers he’d heard at times, men disappearing if they’d crossed old man Quinton or any other white man. Chantry had always figured they’d just run away. Maybe they hadn’t. Maybe some of those men had disappeared forever.

  Then he remembered something else he’d heard. “Is that what happened to your daddy?” he asked.

  Dempsey turned around and went to cut off the water still spraying from the hose. It was easy to see him in the moonlight, his sleeveless white tee shirt and his boxers sticking out in the soft gloom next to the house. Old boards creaked when he went up onto the porch, and Chantry saw the flare of a match as he lit up the old pipe he kept out there next to his bent willow rocker chair.

  It was true. Even without Dempsey saying anything, he knew it. He went up on the steps and sat down. Familiar night sounds settled around them. Crickets, bullfrogs, hoot owls. A dog barked, sounding pretty far off, and another closer answered it. The rich smell of tobacco smoke drifted on the night breeze, mixing with raw earth and the acrid reminder of ignorance and hate.

  “It was a lot different back then than it is now,” Dempsey said. “Lawmen looked the other way.”

  “They still do.”

  “Not like back then. Not nothing like back when I was a boy.” The willow rocker creaked a little with a shift of his weight. “Things were a lot different then. This ain’t the first cross I’ve seen burned. This was just kids. It’s a lot different when it’s grown men.”

  “We studied the civil rights movement that went on in the fifties and sixties,” Chantry said after a moment. “This is the eighties. I thought all that was done with.”

  Dempsey’s chair creaked a little louder. “Some things don’t never get done with, and that’s a fact. Not as long as there are people willin’ to hate for no good reason. Not as long as there are men with things to hide. Those men are the most dangerous, Chantry, because they’re scared. Don’t ever underestimate a man with something to hide.”

  “You mean old man Quinton, don’t you. What’s he got to hide?”

  Dempsey didn’t answer. And somehow, that was answer enough. Chantry got a sick feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. He thought about rumors of missing men and burning crosses and hanging bodies, and knew Bert Quinton had to be a part of it all.

  “I don’t want him to get away with it,” Chantry said fiercely.

  “Boy, there’s lots of laws, but the only one I’m sure nobody can ever escape is the law of retribution. Things have a way of coming back on people. Sometimes, just like they did it to others. Let God take the vengeance, Chantry. He’s much better at it and He never fails.”

  Chantry wasn’t so sure he believed that, but obviously Dempsey did, so he just nodded. It seemed to him that God always took too much time to make folks pay for the wrong they did. Maybe he’d give God a little help one of these days.

  CHAPTER 4

  It was still hot in the middle of October. There was only one pup left: Shadow. Chantry stayed pretty much on edge wondering what Rainey would do. He hadn’t said much while the other pups were there, but when Shadow got looked over every time and it came down to the last one, Rainey said it looked like they might end up stuck feeding the damned dog.

  “Better off to use it as bait.”

  Chantry was ready. He’d lain awake at night trying to think of arguments if it came down to this.

  “I can train him,” he said quickly. They sat at the kitchen table. Mama had made chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, butter beans, and buttermilk biscuits for dinner. It was Rainey’s favorite meal.

  Rainey blew out a snort. “Train him? You? Train him for what, to fetch my slippers?”

  “No. I’ve been reading up on it. I talked to Doc Malone. I can train him to herd cattle, maybe enter him in the trials when he’s good enough. A prize dog like that would take top dollar. A lot more than you got for Belle even.”

 
Rainey had sold Belle the week before, trading her for an old Dodge truck and taking a loss on her but saying it was too much trouble to raise dogs. Like he’d had to do anything but find buyers. Now he looked at Chantry with narrowed eyes like he was thinking about it. Chantry sucked in a deep breath.

  “Dale Ledbetter gave two thousand dollars for a good stock dog.”

  That slowly filtered into Rainey’s brain. Chantry saw it take root, saw greed leap in his eyes. He sat back in his chair until it creaked, eying Chantry for a long minute.

  “Two thousand dollars, huh. So you think you could make anything outa that scrap of a mutt?”

  “He’s small but he’s smart. Quick. That’s what counts in a cattle dog.” He felt Mama’s eyes on him but she didn’t say anything. It wasn’t a lie; it just stretched the truth a little. If Rainey didn’t know anything about the kind of dog he’d bought, that wasn’t Chantry’s fault. Besides, he knew he could train Shadow. He was smart and quick. He was nearly four months old and already knew how to sit when told, heel on command, and could stay. Maybe his attention span wasn’t that long, but it’d only improve with age.

  “And if I don’t,” Chantry said when Rainey still hadn’t said anything, “you haven’t lost any money. You could still sell him.”

  “Or use him as bait.”

  Chantry didn’t answer that. He waited, and in a minute Rainey nodded. “Okay. But you’ll have to feed him. I ain’t spendin’ no more of my money feedin’ a dog that might not sell.”

  “If Chantry buys the food and invests time and money into the dog,” Mama spoke up, “he should get part of the proceeds from the sale.”

  Chantry shot her a quick, frantic look. No. He didn’t want to risk Rainey changing his mind and doing something terrible with Shadow. He knew what he meant by using him as bait. Dog fighting was supposed to be illegal in most places, but it still went on. Bait dogs died horribly.

  A wave of sickness washed over him when Rainey’s eyes went thin again and his look at Mama was mean. Chantry clenched his fists in his lap and spoke up.

  “It’s all right,” he said quickly. “I don’t need any of the money. I just want to do it. To see if I can. That’s all. Rainey can have all the money.”

  “It’s a lot of money, Chantry. Let Rainey think about it.”

  “I don’t have to think about it, by God.” Rainey’s fist slammed down on the table. “As long as I get two thousand dollars, he can have anything over that.”

  Chantry shot Mama a quick look again. He’d never get close to that for Shadow. She had to know it. Didn’t she? But Mama was nodding.

  “After expenses, of course.”

  Rainey didn’t argue. He just looked satisfied.

  After dinner was over and Chantry had washed up for Mama, he went outside to find her sitting on the top step in front. She wore a light sweater pulled tight around her, and stared up at the sky like she was counting stars.

  “Why’d you do that?” he asked when he sat beside her. “I thought he was going to say no.”

  “Now he thinks he has a good bargain. He’s more likely to stick to it. Keep a detailed list of your expenses. Oh, look at the moon. It’s nearly full.”

  He turned to look. It was bright in the sky, still low enough, looking like a misshapen egg against the dark velvet night. Stars glittered, so many he’d never be able to count them all.

  “I met your father on a night like this,” Mama said softly, and Chantry went still. She never talked about him. He always had to pull information from her a little at a time, and still never heard enough about his father. Mama went on:

  “My car broke down and he stopped to help me. He had it fixed in only fifteen minutes. Then we went for coffee but ended up sitting in the park by the river and looking at the stars. Time passed so quickly it was nearly morning before we knew it.”

  She said all that in a dreamy tone, as if talking to herself. He waited, holding his breath, the yearning to hear more so sharp inside that it hurt. Mama’s hair was softer around her face, looser than usual, and a faintly wistful smile made her look almost young again.

  She turned to look at him. “I thought it would last forever. So did he. It turned out that only a few months was our forever.”

  He wanted to ask what she meant, but inside the house Rainey shouted at Mikey to shut up and Mama quickly got up and went inside. He heard her speak sharply to Rainey, and then softly to Mikey, who must have had a bad dream again.

  Disappointed, he got up and went around back to check on Shadow. He looked lonely in the empty pen, but leaped up when he saw Chantry. Bright clear eyes gleamed in light from the house windows, and he gave a quick bark. Chantry shushed him, afraid Rainey might come out and decide the dog was a nuisance.

  Shadow’s fur had grown out soft and silky, a pretty coat for all that the dog was still so small. But he’d grow. Doc Malone had given him a bunch of vitamins and supplements for his food that would ensure it. Shadow gave Chantry’s fingers a good cleaning. He’d have to build a dog house before much longer so he’d have a warm place during the cold, wet months. Maybe he could find some extra wood in the garage that’d do for part of it. He’d keep helping Dempsey with autumn planting in the park, spreading mulch and putting in bulbs for spring and that would bring in a little bit more money. But he needed steady work.

  After school and on weekends would be all he could manage and keep his grades up. Mama was really strict about that. She said he’d have to have good grades to get a scholarship to college, because they’d never be able to afford it. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to go to college or what he wanted to do. He did know he wanted out of Cane Creek. He’d do anything he had to do. He wanted a job that’d pay enough to take Mama with him, and with insurance so he could get Mikey’s legs fixed. And his heart. The doctors here said Mikey needed a hole in his heart fixed in the next few years if he was ever to grow stronger.

  He’d do it. He’d do it all. Mama always said a person could do anything if they wanted it bad enough and worked hard enough for it. He guessed maybe she didn’t want more than she had now, since she worked hard all the time and still didn’t have much that he could see. They got up early every day, and walked down to the end of Liberty Road to wait on Mama’s ride to school, where he and Mikey would sit in her empty classroom and do their lessons or read while Mama did all the stuff schoolteachers had to do before their day started. There was a lot more to teaching than just giving tests and homework, he knew that much. Sometimes they had to stay after school, too, and help Mama with stuff he thought the janitors should do. But Mama said hard work never hurt anybody, and she looked okay, so he figured it was true.

  Chantry sat outside with Shadow for a long time, waiting until Rainey fell asleep watching TV and he could go inside without attracting attention. Anytime Jack Daniel showed up at the dinner table, Rainey got unreasonable.

  He looked up at the sky again, where the moon still hung behind lacy tree branches. He thought about his father again and wondered what it’d have been like if he’d lived. If he hadn’t gone to that terrible place to be killed. If he’d stayed with his family. Not that it mattered now. It was just a dream. He knew that, just like he knew he couldn’t change what had happened. But he could change the future. Mama told him often enough that he could, that he held his own destiny in his hands.

  “There is an entire world out there for you, Chantry, but you have to be prepared for it. If you are not, you will pay a price. It is up to you to decide how high that cost might be. Just remember that there is a price for everything you do in life, even though it may not seem so at the time.”

  He wondered sometimes if she’d been talking to him or herself, wondered just how much she regretted marrying Rainey. She’d said once that she couldn’t regret anything that had brought Mikey into her life, but she’d not said she was glad she’d married Rainey, either.

  Chantry put his head back against the side of the garage and Shadow curled up beside him, his body war
m against his leg. He sat on the damp ground for a long time while the moon made its arc through the sky. He’d committed himself to long days now, but he didn’t regret it. If it’d keep Shadow alive and close, it’d be worth it. He just had to figure out a way to do what he’d said he could do.

  That Friday he went by Cane Creek Animal Clinic to talk to Dr. Malone. The vet took care of cows, horses, goats and sheep as well as dogs and cats. He had another vet come in from time to time to help out, but not many stayed in Cane Creek that long.

  “Hey Chantry,” Malone said with a nod. “A little busy here, so tell me what you need.” The vet wasn’t big on social chit chat.

  “A job.”

  Malone looked over his shoulder at him, studied him for a minute. “Thought you were in school.”

  “I am. After school, weekends, I’m free. I’m pretty strong, and don’t mind hard work.”

  “That right?” Malone swabbed off the stainless steel table with a rag and some kind of spray stuff in a clear plastic bottle. He wore his graying brown hair pulled back in a ponytail on the back of his neck and had a scrub jacket over a black tee shirt. Some people said he was an old hippie because he believed in natural remedies as well as modern medicine, but no one ever said he wasn’t good at what he did. Malone shrugged. “Got a boy that comes in to help out right now.”

  “Okay. Keep me in mind if it doesn’t work out.”

  “Yeah. It’s not working out real well. He doesn’t show up half the time, doesn’t clean like I tell him when he’s here. Can you think for yourself?”