He didn’t know
the boys was there. That’s what he told me.
Ray was walkin’
back through the woods and it wasn’t till he come about to the edge
of the woods that he seen the boys. They was sittin’ by the creek.
Ray was comin’
back from Mr. Billy’s place where he’d been cuttin’ lumber all
mornin’. Mr. Billy was always givin’ Ray jobs. Ray said he paid him
good, too. ‘Course, I always suspected that Mr. Billy made up summa’
them jobs, but I never let on to Ray. He was a proud fella, always liked
to believe he was doin’ a fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay. He
did often say, though, that he didn’t half mind somebody like Mr.
Billy havin’ all he had, ‘cause he spread it around.
Anyways, the way
Ray told it, he got done a little early that day – maybe ‘cause he
always worked extra hard and fast for Mr. Billy. Next he was goin’
over to the reverend’s place, cause that mornin’ Mr. Billy told him
the reverend might have some work needed doin’. And, maybe, since he
got done early, Ray was plannin’ to stop home in between. He didn’t
tell me that part, but that’s what I’da done — stop home and have
the wife fix me somethin’ to eat.... That’s if I still had a wife at
home....
But, I mean, his
home was right along the way. See, there’s the creek, where the boys
was sittin’. Then there’s this field, behind it. It’s got some
real tall grass — good place to hunt rabbits. Behind that field,
there’s this tail of trees that comes outta the woods, and behind them
trees is Ray’s trailer. It sits on a little piece of ground his Daddy
left him. That land’s ‘bout the only thing Ray's daddy ever did give
him, and it ain’t much. I got a better place, down the road.
So like I was
sayin’, when Ray seen the boys, they was sittin’ by the creek. It
was a nice day, as I recall, all spring-like and new, and they was
enjoyin’ it, the way young boys do. His Bobby was wearin’ that
Indian get-up he got for Christmas from Lucille’s rich city-friend....
(Well, least wise, that’s where she told Ray it come from.) And my
Joey...uh...he was wearin’...uh.... He was wearin’ this old, faded
cowboy hat, and this same old toy holster and guns that me and Ray used
to play with when...when we was kids. My Daddy give them to me. Saved a
whole year for them things, and still had to buy ‘em used. But Ray
didn’t even have that much, so we shared ‘em, like we shared most
everything.
I bet my Joey was
throwin’ stones into the creek, too, while he was sittin’ there. Ray
didn’t tell me nothin’ ‘bout that, but I know it’s somethin’
he liked to do. Sometimes he’d go there all by hisself and just sit
and throw them stones and watch ‘em sink — ‘specially after his
Mom left us.
So, anyway, like
Ray tells it, he was just about to wave howdy to the boys and stop with
them awhile, when he hears his Bobby say, real tough-like, “Who says I
can’t go home if I want to?”
Well, that stopped
Ray a second. I guess ‘cause the boys was real good friends and hardly
ever had a harsh word for each other. Just like Ray and me. So, he
waited a bit back in the woods, to see what was goin’ on.
“You can’t go
home,” Joey says, “ ‘cause your Mom said we wasn’t to, until she
called us.”
“She prob'ly
forgot to call us,” Bobby says. “She always forgets, when they’re
together.”
Now that word
“they” got Ray to wonderin’. He didn’t remember hearin’ about
nobody supposed to be visitin’ that day. So he moved a little closer
in, but still not so’s the boys could see him.
“That ain’t
true,” he hears my Joey sayin’. “They didn’t forget us last
Tuesday. Don’t you remember, we all ate supper together, and you got
that authentic Davey Crockett coon skin cap?”
“Where was I
last Tuesday?” Ray asked me, later. “I musta been somewheres cause I
didn’t know what they was talkin’ about.”
“Why, you was
deliverin’ that load of lumber for Mr. Billy,” I told him. “You
prob’ly didn’t get home ‘til past ten.”
It ain’t like
Ray to forget that way, but he was a little crazy by then.
So, anyway, back
in the woods, he hears my Joey ask, “How come you don’t wear that
coon skin cap, anyway? If it was mine, I’d sure wear it.”
“My Mom said I
wasn’t to tell nobody who give it to me.... Seems like every time I
wore it, somebody’d say, ‘Where’d you get a fine cap like that,
boy? You look just like Davey Crockett.’ And since I wasn’t to tell
where I got it, I quit wearin’ it. You better not tell nobody where I
got it neither.”
“I won’t
tell...but I don’t know why it’s so important.”
“Mom says my
Daddy’s liable to get mad if he knows who give it to me. ‘Cause my
Daddy’s proud.”
“Well, the same
person give you that Indian outfit. How come you’re wearin’ that?”
“That’s
different. He give me this for Christmas. When somebody asks, I just
say, ‘I got it for Christmas,’ and they seem to leave it at that. I
don’t have to say who from.”
“Hmm...
prob’ly, just in case you still believe in Santy Clause....Wish
somebody’d give me nice presents. ‘Bout the only thing my Daddy ever
give me was these guns, and they was old already.”
“Well, my Daddy
don’t give me big presents neither...but it ain’t his fault. He
ain’t rich like Mr. Billy. Mr. Billy’s got lotsa money, and like my
Daddy says, he spreads it around.”
Now, the way Ray
told me, when he heard his boy say that name, it was like somebody'd hit
him in the chest with a two-by-four. And all these things come into his
head, all together, like a flash goin’ off in his brain. The way Mr.
Billy was always givin’ him jobs to do, and sendin’ him on errands
that kept him away till late at night. That rich city-friend Lucille
said was the one sendin’ presents to Bobby, when Ray couldn’t figure
out how the hell Lucille would know anybody like that. Hell, maybe Bobby
was even Mr. Billy’s kid.
That’s crazy
a’course. Anybody can see Bobby looks just like Ray, but you know a
man gets wild thoughts at a time like that. In fact, he told me, it was
like that flash in his brain just sent a electric shock right down to
his legs, and he took off runnin’. He went right across that field,
and he must’ve moved like a deer durin’ huntin’ season. And the
boys must’ve seen him, and wondered. I don’t know that for sure, but
I figure they must’ve.
So Ray runs across
the field and through that tail o’ trees and towards his trailer. But
instead of goin’ right to the door, he goes around to the back, where
his pickup is parked, and he reaches in and gets his huntin’ rifle.
Still, though, he
don’t rush right in the door. Maybe his brain was startin’ to clear
a little by then. See, Ray ain’t the type to rush into things. Not
like me. He was always one to think about the outcome. I figure he
wanted to be pretty damn sure before he done somethin’ crazy.
Wouldn’t be the first time kids got things just a little mixed up.
So he cranes his
neck a bit, and tries to peer in the trailer window. But did you ever
try to look through a window screen on a bright, sunny day –
‘specially one of them tiny ones? All he seen was a black square. So,
instead, he sneaks over and hunkers down under the window. But he only
has to wait a little before…sure enough…don’t he hear voices
inside.
Now, right off, he
knew one of them was Lucille, ‘cause he had heard her talk like that
lotsa times. But he wasn’t so sure if the other voice was Mr. Billy,
‘cause he never had occasion to hear Mr. Billy talk like that, or say
them kinda things, if you know what I mean.
But then he looks
over, and there’s Mr. Billy’s Buick parked right there. He don’t
know how he run past it without seein’ it, ‘cause the car was
sittin’ right out in the open, like Mr. Billy didn’t care who seen
it. Now that got Ray’s blood a-boilin’ again.
But still he
don’t rush in just yet. Instead, he starts ponderin’ what’s the
best way to surprise them. He starts thinkin’ the steps to the
door…and if he can creep there on all fours with his gun, so’s they
don’t see him from the window, but, before he moves, he hears
Lucille’s voice through the window, sayin’ she thinks somebody’s
outside.
Ray gets to barely
breathin’, and for a while there’s not a sound, while everybody’s
listenin’ for everybody else. Prob’ly seemed like hours. So when Ray
heared somebody clangin’ down them steps, outside the trailer door, he
musta jumped out of his skin. Them things are metal, and they make an
awful racket.
He still keeps his
spot, though, and, sure enough, don’t he see Mr. Billy come walkin’
toward his car. It couldn’ta worked better if Ray planned it. There
was Mr. Billy, with his shirt collar unbuttoned, and that expensive
linen jacket over his arm, walkin’ right into Ray’s sights.
Only...to tell the
truth...I’ve thought on this a long time, and I don’t believe Ray
ever really meant to shoot nobody. Not that he ever told me that,
exactly. It’s just that...well, Ray and me been huntin’ together
since we was kids, and it just don’t make no sense to me how he coulda
missed a shot that easy.
If that shot had
gone just a little to the left, he’da hit Mr. Billy, maybe in the
chest or the side o’ the neck. If it’d gone a little farther to the
right, he’da hit a tree. But, as it was, he hit my Joey, right between
the eyes.
Joey died
“instantly.” That’s the word the doctor used...but I think he was
mistaken. ‘Cause when I looked out the trailer window, with Bobby
standin’ there screamin’, and Ray standin’ there kinda’ in
shock, and Mr. Billy runnin’ toward the trees, I could swear I seen
the boy twitchin’ a bit.
‘Course by the
time I got my pants on, and tripped over that goddamn package Mr.
Billy’d left on the steps for Bobby...well...by then my boy was dead.
He didn’t know
the boys was there. That’s what Ray told me. He didn’t expect for
them to be walkin’ back through them trees just then. And it was
pretty hard to see. It was bright sun and all, and them in the shade.
Ya’ see, Ray was
my very best friend, and I don’t think he never had it in him to hurt
nobody.
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