Let Me Die in His Footsteps

“Only one thing I want,” Ellis says.

 

Annie reaches the fence, grabs at it, her fingers slipping between the flat rocks like they did when she was a girl, except now she’s on the wrong side. She pushes against it, turns to face Ellis. Daddy stands between her and Ellis Baine. Miss Watson has gone silent, which must mean she understands now what is happening.

 

“Tell me what hand you had in it,” Ellis says, the shotgun still hanging at his side. He’s talking to Abraham. “Tell me what hand you had.”

 

“Good God,” Abraham says. “What the hell are you talking about?”

 

“Ellis,” Daddy says, nearly stumbling over Annie for standing so close, “ain’t no need to scare these women. Put that thing away.”

 

“Then get on,” Ellis says. “Tell me. And you can start with the cards.”

 

Abraham looks to Daddy, but Daddy’s eyes are on that gun hanging from Ellis Baine’s hand.

 

“Better do as the man asks,” Daddy says.

 

“Be happy to, John,” Abraham says. “But I’m not sure what in God’s creation he’s talking about.”

 

“You took a deck of cards from the girl,” Ellis says, dipping his head toward Annie. “Said they was yours. Where’d they come from?”

 

“Good Lord, I don’t know.” Abraham smells of the spicy cologne he sometimes wears when he comes to the house for Sunday supper, and his shirt is buttoned up under his chin and tucked into his belted pants and he wears a tan jacket. He’s dressed to go to town, where he was meaning to meet Miss Watson just like she said. He glances back at her. She must still be standing on the other side of the fence behind Daddy. “Just an old deck of cards. Have no idea where they come from.”

 

“Not just an old deck,” Ellis says. “You took them off Dale Crowley.”

 

“Let’s send the girls on home, Ellis,” Daddy says. “Then we’ll talk this through.”

 

“How’d you come to have those cards, Abe? Last time I’m asking.”

 

“Tell me what you want me to say, and I’ll say it. Just let these girls go on.”

 

“Tell me you took them off Dale Crowley the day he disappeared.”

 

“What’s he talking about, Abe?” It’s Miss Watson. From the sound of her voice, closer now than it was before, Miss Watson has squatted behind the fence. She must be peeking over like Annie did as a little girl.

 

“The day Dale Crowley disappeared, Joseph Carl give him a deck of playing cards,” Ellis says. “He told me that. Told the sheriff the same. And now they somehow end up with Abe. Seems to me, you having those cards means you know something about what really happened to Dale Crowley.”

 

“I remember,” Daddy says, shuffling his feet and trapping Annie against the rocks. “Joseph Carl, he said he gave a deck to Dale that day. Never did find them on the boy though. Figured they washed away. Probably, they were just lost.”

 

“Didn’t wash away,” Ellis says. He raises the gun’s barrel and points it at Abraham. “Found them sitting in the middle of your kitchen table, John. Joseph Carl had that deck since we was boys. No mistaking that deck belonged to Joseph Carl. Started off thinking it was you, John, had some sort of hand in all this. Turns out,” Ellis says, jabbing the gun in Abraham’s direction, “Abe, here, has had them cards all these years.”

 

“I don’t get why we’re talking about this,” Abraham says, his eyes jumping from Ellis to Daddy to Miss Watson. “Christ, so I have a favorite deck. Why you bringing up Joseph Carl after all this time?”

 

“Bringing it up because you fellows hung that boy for something it’s looking like you did.”

 

“Come on, now,” Daddy says. “Put the gun down. Too many years have passed to be talking like this.”

 

“Too many for you maybe,” Ellis says. “Not too many for me.”

 

“You know Joseph Carl confessed,” Daddy says. “Told us where Dale would be found. How do you figure Abraham had any part in that?”

 

“Never heard Joseph Carl say any such thing,” Ellis says. With his thumb, he slides the safety off. He readies his finger on the trigger. “You hear him say it, Abe?”

 

Ellis squints through one eye to get a better look down the barrel of his gun. Daddy’s boots press up next to Annie. The black toes are covered with dust where he’s kicked up the fine, dry dirt, and one lace hangs loose.

 

“Dale didn’t have no cards when I seen him.” It’s Abraham’s voice. He spits out the first few words, but as he continues to talk, he slows and speaks not so loudly, because Ellis Baine has lowered his gun. “Best I can remember, he didn’t have no cards.”