On Emma's Bluff - Sara Elizabeth Rice, edited by davebccanada (best ereader for academics .txt) 📗

"How long has she been like this?" was Harvey's question as he stood in the living room at the Wilson's.

"Since I got here," the patrolman answered. Elizabeth Wilson sat huddled in the corner of the room and watched the tall men above her. Every attempt to speak to her or to move closer was only met by shrieks from Liz.

"I told you Harvey," Shooter began, "She was just a walking across my field plain as you please. If I had not brought her back here heaven only knows where she would be now. She was a keening the whole time; had my livestock all spooked."

"She acts like she is scared to death." the patrolman offered.

"Where the hell is Roy?" Harvey demanded.

"Wouldn't know," Shooter replied, "There weren't nobody here when I brought her in."

Harvey attempted to speak to Liz, "Mrs. Wilson we are fixing to call your physician. He will be here shortly." Liz howled at this. "Are you in any pain?" Harvey spoke slowly but this did nothing to stop Liz's screeches. "Why don't you two start checking around the place for Roy." he spoke without taking his eyes off of the cornered woman. "I can't believe he would just go off and leave Liz like this."

Hattie was glad that her driveway led downhill instead of up or she would have never been able to make it the quarter mile to Moseph's shot gun shack. She had never liked him living so close to her before. As a child she could remember that the nearest neighbors had been five miles away. She had never seen any reason to have anyone close at hand before.

"Stupid old woman," she mumbled to herself. Night had set in and the dark gravel road seemed to be crumbling beneath her feet. She had picked up a lantern before she left the house but she was hesitant to use it. She didn't know how much of a wick was left and she didn't want to use up any kerosene that she didn't have to use.

Hattie could make out the stars that peeped through the trees and this vague light kept her on the road. If Moseph wasn't home she wasn't sure what she would do. That would have to be decided later. She tried to keep any anxiety out of her thoughts as she walked. What would she do if that Viola Grace came after her here on the road? Hattie hoped she was ready. What if Viola had already taken over one or both of them girls how much stronger would she be then? Hattie began to sing loud and heartily, "Amazing Grace..."

There was no mistaking the racket that was coming from the first floor. Someone was now in the house. Cindy jumped from the bed to recheck the security of the wedged door. She knew though, that if whatever was in the house wanted in that room there would be no stopping them. The next crash sounded as if the banister had been uprooted and sent to the floor. "Please don't come upstairs, please don't come upstairs," she blubbered as she raced back to the cot to join Emma.

Emma was sitting erect and alert like a kid at her first circus.

Shooter and the patrolman, who had introduced himself at last as Officer Bates, took off in different directions looking for Roy. Shooter easily came across the old path and immediately remembered playing on it as a boy. With his flashlight trained toward the ground he proceeded to follow the meandering path through the woods. He kept looking back to see if he could see the lights of the house or the flashlight of the patrolman. He was a little spooked by his surroundings. If a head had come rolling out of the foliage he probably would have died on the spot. What he did see was only a little less frightening.

Roy Wilson had recovered enough from his fall to get to his feet and try to make his way back home. At this point he was still not quite conscious of his whereabouts so he moved very cautiously. His forehead bulged open from the fall he had taken. An opening the size of a quarter showed his skull beneath the blood. The blood was over his entire face. With little awareness of his injury Roy stumbled back towards home.

When Shooter first saw Roy it was with the beam of his flashlight. When the light caught the blood-smeared face of Roy Wilson, mouth agape, eyes rolling back from the light, Shooter threw the flashlight up in the air. He did not recall screaming, but the patrolman and Harvey heard him. It was those screams that brought the other men hurrying to help bring them all back.

Meanwhile Hattie had made the last bend in the road and could make out the lights of Moseph Franklin's small cabin. Relief caused her to sigh, but she immediately chided herself for that luxury. She saw the chain snap tight from the front porch post to the pickup before she heard the dog's low growl.

"That Moseph and his mangy dogs," she muttered. Why he insisted on keeping some half starved little pooch tied up and mean in the yard she could never understand. "Who would want anything of his here to steal, " she thought. Besides one shotgun blast would do away with any old dog. But what she saw emerge from the shadows by the pickup truck was not just any old dog. The animal looked mammoth; it's heavy chest, strong neck, she could even see the bulging muscles of it's back legs, all in silhouette, all in black.

"Shoo puppy" she said more to hear her own voice than to speak to the dog. The dog was now straining to get closer. "Moseph," she cried out, but no one stirred inside the cabin.

"He's got to be home," she thought to herself, " he wouldn't leave all these lamps on, besides this here is his truck." She was just about to call again when the dog lunged and she heard the post creak on the porch. She looked to see if the post was about to give but from where she stood it was hard to tell.   One thing she could tell, the dog had come closer. This time she really yelled, "MOSEPH!"

The front porch door flung open hitting the side of the house. "Who the hell's out here?" Moseph's thin frame appeared in the doorway.

"Your neighbor, Hattie." She tried to keep her eyes on the dog as she waved at him.

"What you want this time of the evening?"

"I need your help. But please call your dog off first." She back stepped in the gravel away from the dog. If it got free she knew she was a goner.

"Claude, here boy." The dog did not move. Moseph took two steps out on to this front porch. "Claude, what's that matter with you? Get up here." He reached out to grab the chain on the front post to haul the dog back. Suddenly he stopped, "Jez criminey, who could have done a thing like this?"

"Just get the dog back away from me," Hattie yelled.

Moseph jerked hard on the chain and the dog reluctantly turned it's head away from Hattie and back towards the porch. His ears immediately relaxed and his tail came up. The big beast padded back across the yard to his master.

Hattie once again found herself sighing in relief. "Where did you get such a nasty mean dog?" she asked.

"Claude? Why Claude is as good as they come." He patted the beast’s head. "Now what you be needing woman?"

"You got to take me somewhere, Moseph. She approached the shack cautiously still not trusting the animal to behave.

"You sick?"

"Not me exactly. I got to help someone else."

He thought about this for a moment. "They ain’t got no kind of disease I could get do they?"

Despite the tension Hattie had to chuckle a little at this. "No yous already about as mean as you can get I reckon."

"What's that you say?"

"I said no." Hattie moved another step closer. Moseph had come down to the steps and she could make out his sharp features. "I just need for you to carry me somewhere in your pickup that's all. I can pay you if I must."

"How much?"

"What you think is a fair price?"

"How far we got to go?"

This was the part she had been dreading. How could she explain wanting to go to Further Back. "Further Back," she finally just blurted out.

"What the hell..."

"Now just listen to me Moseph. There's some youngins out there where they ain’t suppose to be and I got to go get them." She paused for a breath. "You hear me?"

"Twenty five dollars." It seemed that money was going to be the key.

"Twenty five dollars you say." Hattie shuffled around in her front shirt pocket for the money she had on her. She had only a five-dollar bill and some silver. "Yeah I will pay you twenty five dollars, but I can only give you part of it now. I'll give you the rest when we get back home."

He laughed when he heard this. "Go back home old woman," he said.

"Now you listen to me. I'll give you fifty dollars when we get back home if you will just take me over there."

This perked up his ears. "How I know that you really do that?"

"Cause I am your neighbor you know I can't escape paying you."

"Get in the truck," he said. "I'll be right there." She watched as he unchained the dog and went back in the house. She could see the lights as he turned them all off. Hoisting herself up Hattie rolled into the cab of the truck.   When he came back he still had the dog and it jumped right into the back bed of the pickup.

"What you bringing him for?" Hattie asked.

"Protection." Moseph answered.

"Emma, snap out of this." Cindy had slapped her before she even knew what she was doing. The slap had little effect. Emma's head lolled a bit and then rose back up on its stalk to a doll like angle. "Emma, you have got to help me. We have got to do something."

Emma turned slowly toward Cindy and for a moment her eyes focused.   Then a voice like none Cindy had ever heard Emma spoke. "Go to hell Cindy." There was no rancor, just a singsong lilt. "It is no different than here."

"Oh Lord, please help me," Cindy whispered. Perhaps the danger was not downstairs. And then with all the might she could muster Cindy punched Emma squarely in the face and watched as Emma fell back on the cot clearly knocked out cold.

The first word out of Emma's mouth when she finally came to was "Cindy?"

"Yes Emma, its Cindy," Cindy was relieved to hear Emma's normal voice again. She had quit listening for sounds downstairs. The footsteps had died off at the second floor, but Cindy