Let Me Die in His Footsteps

 

WHEN ANNIE NEARS her house, she tosses Ryce’s shirt in the ditch, drops her bike at the roadside, and walks toward her drive but doesn’t cross over. Two slender lengths of wood six feet tall, three inches wide, and two inches thick, and both appearing to have come from Daddy’s shed because they have been sanded smooth, stand on either side of her. A half dozen limp milk snakes have been strung up on each. They’ve been nailed to the posts. Some are more shriveled than others, meaning some have been dead longer than others.

 

Most of the snakes are of the reddish-brown variety and are covered with white blotches trimmed in black. Annie might wonder who helped Grandma pound those stakes in the ground, but they both stand at an awkward sort of angle and Grandma does have a way of getting things done herself, so it’s likely she had no help at all. It’s also likely, because there’s still plenty of room on those pieces of wood, she plans to string up more snakes.

 

Grandma has never talked about stringing up milk snakes, but it’s definitely her work and it’s definitely meant to keep evil from crossing onto the Hollerans’ place. She must have been searching for those snakes since they first discovered Mrs. Baine. Closing her eyes and holding her breath, though she isn’t sure why except maybe she’s the kind of evil those snakes are meant to keep at bay, Annie steps from the road onto the drive. After a half dozen steps, she opens her eyes. Nothing is changed. Annie doesn’t want to be near when Mama sees what Grandma has done or when Daddy discovers what has become of his perfectly fine pieces of wood.

 

The moment Annie steps inside the house, Caroline grabs her by both hands and begs Annie to tell every single thing about Ellis Baine. Caroline wants to know what he looked like. Was he as handsome as they say? Where has he been living? What did he say? Is it true he came to see Annie? Why would he do that? Why would he come just for Annie?

 

Before Annie can answer, Grandma walks into the kitchen. Caroline drops Annie’s hands and lowers her eyes as if that’ll stop Grandma from seeing what Caroline was up to. But like Annie always knows a thing before it has come, Grandma knows, and she gives Caroline a look that means she’d best mind her own business. Then Grandma cocks her mouth off to one side and leans in close to look Annie in the eyes.

 

“Where you been?” she asks. “Did you go off somewhere? Why’s your hair all wet?”

 

“Been out talking to Daddy and Sheriff Fulkerson,” Annie says, which is partly true but not altogether true. After Annie crossed through the snakes and made her way up to the house, she did see Daddy and the sheriff again. She leaves out the part where she rode her bike to the fields.

 

“Well, see that you stay put,” Grandma says, poking a melon baller at Annie so she’ll know it’s serious business.

 

Annie nods, says, “Yes, ma’am,” and Grandma digs her baller into the half watermelon sitting on the kitchen table.

 

“I strung up snakes,” she says, scooping up a round chuck of melon and dropping it in a glass bowl. “Did you see?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

“We’ll string more, the most we can find. You keep an eye out. Under things that are dead. That’s where you’ll find them. And we’ll string more.”

 

Walking with rounded shoulders and doing her best to hide her chest, Annie climbs the steps that will lead to her bedroom and thinks maybe she’ll find enough snakes to hang some outside her windows. As she passes Mama’s bedroom, Annie looks inside. Mama is sitting alone on the edge of her bed, her feet bare, her dress no longer belted. She’s pulled the tie from her hair, leaving it to hang down her face, and she’s staring out her window. She’ll be seeing the tobacco barn at the top of the hill. Maybe she’s waiting and watching for Aunt Juna.

 

Hearing Annie in the hallway, Mama turns. Her eyes widen, and her back straightens. She inhales sharply as if at first seeing someone unexpected, and then she realizes it’s just Annie.

 

“You’re the spitting image . . .” Mama says but stops short of saying Aunt Juna’s name. “I’ve such a headache. I’m going to rest just a bit. Can you help Grandma?”