Diggin' fer Dollars
I was looking at maw’s picture, and didn’t see the dog. It ran right out in front of us. BAM! Paw’s truck almost blew up! The breaks weren’t too good, so Paw had to shift quick into second. I thought the engine was gonna bust its mount, it was so loud. Even so, what came next I heard real good.
Paw hit the dog. It sounded like a side of beef being slammed onto a steel table, like the one in the butcher’s shop. What scared me, though, was the sound of something skidding across the truck bed behind me, and slamming into the back of the cab. The pine box and planks, Paw had tied down good, but the shovels got free. One of ‘em made a nice size spider crack in the back window.
I jumped out of the truck, and ran over to the side of the road, where the dog was. It was dead all right. Was all twisted up. One set o’ legs went one way and one th’other. I picked up a stick, and poked it in the head. Blood started comin’ out its nose. I looked up at Paw. He just stood there with his thumbs tucked into the pockets of his britches, looking at the dog, and shaking his head.
“Damn,” he said. “Bet that was a good huntin’ dog. Might be Ben Wheeler’s.”
Paw liked dogs. Always petted ‘em when he saw one. Even the neighbor’s shepherd dog. We had a collie dog once, ‘fore I was born. Kept the coyotes from killin’ the stock. But it got old, and ran off. I looked back at the dead dog, and I threw up in my mouth a little bit. Was all I could do to keep it down. The dog looked real still, real dead.
I hadn’t seen anything like that since my baby sister Liza fell out of her high chair. I don’t know where Paw was when it happened. Outside somewhere, I s’pose. We didn’t have a maw. She died having Liza. I was the only one in the kitchen with the baby. I should’a done something, but I just froze up. Watched the chair go right over. ‘Course I was only six at the time, but I remember like it was yesterday. She laid on the floor with her head facing the other way. She shook a little, and coughed. After that she didn’t move no more. When I got down off my chair, I could see a little puddle of blood on the floor next to her mouth. She must’a hit the floor real hard. I touched her face, and it felt soft and warm. Liza didn’t like to be touched. Was the only time I could recall doin’ it. Then Paw come runnin’ in. He shoved me away, and I fell down. He picked up Liza, and ran out of the house. Left me lyin’ there.
I stood up, and gave the dog one last poke in the rear end. Paw said there was nothing to do but call Sheriff Tidwell. Have somebody come pick it up. Didn’t want some little kid to come up and start foolin’ with it.
Like I said, we was on our way, over to pick up Bill, th’undertaker. His funeral parlor was just off the town circle. I should have been in school that day, but they sent me home. I shoved Joe Roberts on the ground at recess, and made fun of him.
Joe’s hair was always greasy, like he slicked it back with lard or something. Bet he don’t take a bath but once a month. If you were downwind, ‘fore long you would start to smell his daddy’s barnyard, a mixture of pig shit, green hay, and sour milk. Make you sick standing next to him. He came up and stood by me at recess. I took one whiff, and shoved him away. He fell down like one o’ them babies do, when their mammas try to make ‘em walk for themselves. Then when he was picking himself up, I saw he had come to school with two different shoes on. He had one of his Paw’s old boots on his left foot, one ‘o his on the right. It was too big for him, and was all wore out. Silliest thing I ever saw.
I said, “Joe Roberts, you look like a damn fool.” Right then Mrs. Porter ran up, grabbed me by the hair, and drug me down to the principal’s office.
Mrs. Porter tapped on the door to Principal Wallace’s office like she didn’t really want him to hear her. But he heard, and told her to come on in. She closed the door behind her. It seemed like a long time ‘fore she came out. She held the door open for me to go in.
He was just sitting there, scratching on a piece of paper with a quill pen by the light of a little green lamp on his desk. Only light in the place. The barber cut his hair real short with one’a them buzz clippers. He’d been a sergeant in the U.S. Army, fightin’ the Germans. Can’t call him “Sir.” Says he works for a living. Seemed like I sat there for and hour, ‘fore he looked at me up over the top of his spect’cles. He asked what I done, and I told him. He just sat there and stared at me, chewin’ on his tabacca like it taste bad. Then he puckered up like he was gonna spit it in my face. But he turned his head, and spit into the steel bucket behind his desk.
“D’you realize Ms. Roberts’s up in the hospital?” He asked. And I shook my head. He said that she was s’posed to have a baby, but both of ‘em might not make it. It was a bad thing I’d done to Joe at a time like this. He told me to go home and tell my paw. And I better not come back tomorrow, ‘less I can stop bullying folks.
Paw was there, about to go over to help Bill, th’undertaker. Paw lost his job in Shreveport right after Maw died. Bill gave him steady work digging graves. Called it “Diggin’ fer dollars.” All folks die ‘ventually, and if they’re from around here, Bill gets hold of ‘em. I told Paw what I done, and he got real mad. The muscles und’neath his cheeks flared in and out, and that big vein on his neck swole up. I thought for sure he was gonna make me go get a switch. I just looked at my shoes. They were old and wore out. Least I only had one kind on.
When I looked back up at Paw, his face had changed completely. He looked like he had a headache, and he shut his eyes. It was like he was trying to remember how something sounded, and couldn’t hear it too good. Like it was far off. Then his shoulders sagged a little, like somebody was lettin’ th’air out of him. He just turned around, and stomped off towards the barn.
‘Fore long he came back with two shovels, and tossed one of ‘em toward me. I caught it, and got a sliver. Shot up into the heel of my hand. It hurt real bad. I didn’t want him to toss the other one, so I walked up, and took it out of his hands. I threw the shovels in back of the pickup truck next to a small, pine box that I hadn’t noticed before. Paw came up, and tied up everything good.
“Get in. Yer comin’ with me to help,” he told me. And right then I knew I was gonna help Paw dig a grave. When I got into the truck, Paw said that the Roberts’ baby died at the hospital when its mamma was havin’ it. Now we had to go and help Bill give it a decent burial.
It felt like I had swallowed a big, fat apple, whole. It stuck in my throat, then slowly worked its way to my stomach, and just sat there. I thought about Liza, and what I had done to Joe that day. He’s gonna feel real bad, and his folks’ll probably start treatin’ him different, too. I looked at my sliver hand. It started to burn like wildfire, and was turnin’ purple. Paw started up the truck to back out. When he turned around to see what was behind him, he saw me biting at the sliver. Trying to take care of matters ‘fore he noticed. He put it in neutral and stopped.
“Let’s see,” he said, and got hold of my wrist. He turned over my hand to get a look, and rubbed his thumb gentle-like over the sliver. The hard swirls on his thumb felt like cat’s tongue. Then Paw started gnawin’ on it like the neighbor’s shepherd dog. It’d nip at ya, and gnaw on ya with little bites. Knew just what it’d take to make ya bleed. A hot wave shot to my head. Felt like I was an asphalt road, standing in the noonday sun. Paw got the sliver right away. He was good at gettin’ at slivers.
I can still remember Paw before my baby sister died. He used to hum a tune to make Liza go to sleep. She was always ornery, like she knowed she didn’t have a maw. I used hug Paw g’night after he got her to sleep, but now I don’t. He don’t hug back no more.
After we hit that dog, we got to Bill’s Funeral Home. It was off the town circle. The buildin’ was gray and ugly, and shaped like a piece o’ pie. Made out of cinderblocks. The gov’ment sold ‘em cheap to folks during the war. A lot of Elk City’s buildings were made out of ‘em. Most folks painted ‘em. Tried to make ‘em presentable, but not Bill. He didn’t have a sign or nothin’. Paw said it seemed that folks knew where to find him. In the window and the door there was dark, wine colored curtains. We walked though the door, and Bill was on us right away.
“Samuel. Come to help yer paw?” he said, and stuck out that sweaty, cold fish of a hand. I looked at it for a second, then shook it after Paw cuffed the back of my head. Bill pumped my hand up and down. Made me nervous. He smelled like f’maldehyde, and when you shook his hand, he didn’t want to let go. He was old and bald, and the way he hung his head made him look like he had no neck.
“Yessir,” I told him. This set Bill to nodding. A wolf with razor sharp teeth, fixing to pounce on ya when yer not looking. He’d eat the hearts out’a dead folks sometimes when their kin wouldn’t pay him for his services. A spit thread zinged out of his mouth, and he said we gotta stop, and pick up the baby. It was at the hospital, and it was time to go git it. They had filled it up with balmin fluid. Yes, it was a shame. The mother didn’t get enough iron or somethin’ or ‘nother. Died just as it was comin’ out her, a baby girl. Only lived for a second.
I was havin’ trouble standing still, so Paw pointed at a chair, and told me to go sit down. I went over and sat in the fancy parlor chair. It had a red, furry cushion, and was by the door to the chapel. Their voices were shushes now, which made me start thinking about the dead people in the back. If they weren’t dead yet, Bill’d hit ‘em with a hammer.
I looked into the chapel, where Bill had the funeral services. They had Liza up in there when she died. There were pews like in church, except they were painted white, and didn’t have the pockets in the back for the hymnbooks. The carpet was blood red with swirls of green like teardrops. All ‘round the altar was wire skeletons that were supposed to hold the flowers for the dead. And there was a podium, so Bill could say a few words. I only recall him sayin, “Remember them” at Liza’s funeral. He was talking about Maw and Liza. Aunt Ida told me to shush when I said I don’t remember Maw, and made me button up my collar agin.
Paw was there, but he didn’t say nothing. Just sat there, and stared off. Looked like he had a stomachache. When folks would come up and say that they were sorry, he would just look up at ‘em. Just fer a second, then he’d look down agin. He didn’t say nothin’ to nobody the whole day. Got me scared, and I cried. Aunt Ida was crying, too, and grabbed hold of me. Hugged me so tight, I couldn’t breathe. She always smelled like talcum powder and moth balls.
‘Round the altar, and pulled back with gold ropes, there was a silky purple curtain. The way the light shined made it looked like brewing storm clouds. They had a curtain just like that at the picture show in the city. After the movie the curtains would close. And now you’re dead...The End. Before we left Paw called the sheriff, and told him about the dog we left by the side of the road.
At the hospital Bill got out, and said it’d only take a few minutes. Then he stuck his head back in. I thought he was gonna grab me, but he reached behind the seat. He pulled out a big, black suitcase. He musta put it there at the funeral home, when I wasn’t looking. I could see a little piece of blanket stickin’ out. It had a sky blue bear and a shooting star on it. Liza had a blanket like that. Found it in the root cellar a couple of years ago. It was wrapped around one’a her baby dolls. I got it up in my closet now. Helps me remember.
Bill walked up to the front door of the hospital. Sort of glided along. He had long legs, and took long steps. One foot would go forward, his body would catch up. Then the other foot’d go out. Somebody opened the door for him, and Bill tipped his hat. Paw and I sat in the truck what seemed like forever. I started to think about Bill putting that dead baby of the Roberts’s in the suitcase. Liza was too big for it, and I wondered how they got her out of the hospital without folks seeing. She had died there, too. Paw said that Bill took a suitcase when he had to pick up a baby at the hospital. Happened more’n you might think. Said folks would get all shaken up, if they saw a little coffin leaving the hospital.
‘Ventually Bill came out. I could tell that the suitcase got heavier. It made him walk slower, and I could see a little piece of his tongue comin’ out his mouth as he puffed along. His other arm stuck out, so’s he could keep his balance. On the way to the cemetery I couldn’t sit back in the seat.
The digging took a while. Paw started out with one o’ them zig-zag rulers. He unfolded it, and measured the distance between the graves on either side of where we were gonna dig the hole. Then he took a hammer, and nailed four stakes in the ground. Made a square. He looped some twine around one of the stakes, and pulled it tight as he went from one stake to th’other. He took a shovel, and sliced up the ground underneath the twine. As he did, he pried up the grass. He worked all around inside the twine ‘till there was a black dirt square. Then he pulled up the stakes and the twine.
I looked over at the truck. Bill had the tailgate door open. The pine box was pulled out on top of it. The suitcase was on the ground next to Bill, open. He had the baby in his arms. Held it like Aunt Ida made me hold Liza. He put it gentle-like into the coffin. Looked like he was talking to it. He reached inside the box, and tuck something in. Then he reached back in, and did something else. He looked a little sad and tired.
I looked back over at Paw, who was clear down to his waist. He was starting to struggle a little ‘round in the hole. He stopped digging, hopped up on the edge of the hole, and swung his legs out.
“There,” he said. “You’re gonna have to finish the rest.”
I walked up to the hole and looked down. Paw done nice work. The walls of the hole were smooth and straight all the way to the bottom. I jumped in the hole, and stole a look at Bill, who was hammering nails into the lid of the coffin. Paw said somethin’ about how the babies are the hardest to bury. You have to dig just as deep, but the hole is a lot smaller than those for growed up folks are.
After I had dug another foot or so, Paw said that was enough. I smoothed the walls of the hole so they were straight. I grabbed a handful of dirt. It smelled good, sort of rich and musty. The chunks of it fell apart as I rubbed it between my hands. I wondered what it’d be like to be all covered up with dirt, dead in a hole. We’ll be putting Joe’s baby sister in this very hole, I thought. Liza got put in a hole, prob’ly just like this one. Maw was here, too. Now they’re at the other end of the cemetery. Paw and me visit them on Christmas if it hasn’t snowed. They don’t have head stones. Just a plaque in the ground. There’s a couple of spots there for me and Paw.
I slid down on my rear end at the bottom of the hole, and looked up. All I could see was the bluest blue sky through the square of the hole. Looked like a picture. A big, fluffy, white cloud went by. Then two heads popped out. They blocked the light, and I couldn’t see their faces. By the shape of the heads, though, I could tell it was Paw and Bill.
The Paw head said, “What you doing, boy? Come on out’a that hole.” He got down on his knees, and pulled me up.
I looked around, and saw the coffin, some rope, and two planks. Bill and Paw put the planks over the hole, laid the rope across, and rested the coffin on the planks. We all stood back, and looked at our work. Bill took a wreath of flowers from one of the gravestones nearby, and laid it on top of the coffin. It looked good.
Paw picked up the shovels, and gave me one. Then he put his arm around my neck, and we walked back toward the truck. I looked back. Bill was standing there with a Bible in his hand, and just nodded.
When we got to the truck, I saw the Roberts coming down the road. Their truck was in worse shape than Paw’s. It swayed from side to side, and blew smoke out its tailpipe. It came to a stop, and Joe Roberts got out. He helped his maw out the truck. He looked older somehow. His maw was moving real slow, and he helped her walk until his paw came up and took over. When they walked by us, they stopped. Paw put his hand on Mr. Roberts shoulder.
“Ephraim, Helen, I’m shore sorry.” he said, and then, “If there’s anything I kin do.” Joe Roberts was standing next to me, but I couldn’t look at him. I was shamed of myself fer what I done to him. We all walked together, and joined Bill at the grave. He said his piece.
When Bill finished, him and Paw lowered the coffin down to the bottom of the hole. Bill bent over, picked up a handful of dirt, and tossed it down on top of the coffin. As we went back to the trucks, us young’uns walked ahead of everybody.
“Did Principal Wallace give you a lickin’?” Joe asked, and wiped his snotty nose on his shirtsleeve. I just put my head down, and shook it. “That’s good,” he said. I looked over at him, and he smiled a little. Just wanted somebody to be friends, and play with him is all. After the Roberts drove off, me and Paw filled up the hole.
When we got home, it was almost dark. I got out the box from my closet. I spread out Liza’s blanket, and laid out the yeller pictures. There was one o’ Maw holdin’ me when I was a baby. She looked real happy. There was Paw and Maw on their wedding day. Paw was smiling. Looked like they were having a good ol’ time. And then there was one with a big waterfall. You could see people standin’ next to it. I bet it was the biggest one on this earth. Something to see.
Paw came in, and sat down on the floor next to me. He told me stories of when him and Maw first got married. On their honeymoon, they went to Niagra Falls. Maw thought it was the prettiest thing she ever saw.
No comments:
Post a Comment