24
Little Bit had herself a good laugh. “You two got the fear in ya tonight.” She cackled.
Truman tried to act like he wasn’t scared but Little Bit could see he was shaken up. “Don’t worry, Mr. Tru, ain’t nothin’ gonna befall you now that I’m here.”
“You just scared us—” Truman stopped. “I mean, you surprised us.”
Little Bit eyed the broken branches. “What in the world have you two been up to? No good, I suspect.”
“We been detecting,” said Nelle. “Look what I found—”
Truman stepped in front of her before she could show off the slingshot. “What are we doing here anyway, Little Bit? There’re no snakes in the middle of town,” he said.
“Plenty of snakes here, if you look hard enough,” she said, reaching in her bag and pulling out some herbs. She stuffed them into Truman’s pockets.
“What’s that for?” he asked, trying to get away from her.
“Redroot and peppermint. Keeps the evils away. Something tells me you might need it tonight.”
Nelle looked worried. “Can I have some?”
“Of course, Miss Nelle. Coming up.”
Once she was done stuffing their pockets, Little Bit announced, “Now, come on, follow me and do as I says.”
They moved quickly past the drugstore. Red-haired Ralph was cleaning the window from the inside and stopped to watch them go by. Little Bit ignored him and hustled the kids down the alley behind the store.
When they turned the corner, they came to a fenced-in area that used to be a stable. They peered into a hole in the fence and saw a crowd of men. They looked like escaped convicts from the chain gangs they’d seen along the roads to Montgomery. Hardened and shifty, they all smoked as they stood around an oversize dry-goods box.
“Stay close,” said Little Bit as she herded them around back to the stable gate. Truman blanched when he saw who was manning the entrance: the bully Boss Henderson and his daddy, the notorious Catfish.
He pulled his cap down low, hoping the three of them wouldn’t be noticed, but that was unlikely, considering he and Nelle were the only kids there and Little Bit the only black person.
Boss grinned at him; Truman didn’t know if it was out of respect for their showing up or because he had it in for them. Either way, it didn’t make them feel welcome.
“Nice hat, shrimp,” said Boss, cracking his knuckles.
“We’re here to see the fight,” said Little Bit. Truman and Nelle exchanged glances. Fight?
Catfish stepped in front of them as they tried to enter. “You ain’t allowed in here, auntie. No Negros, you know the rules.”
“What about Indian Joe? He’s as dark as me and you letting him in.”
“He’s got the snakes. You got snakes?” said Catfish, whose handlebar mustache, beady eyes, and sunburned skin actually reminded Truman of a catfish. “What would people say if they saw us cavortin’ with the likes of you?” He hooted.
Little Bit scowled and turned to the children. “You still want to go in? You’ll have to go without me.”
Truman nodded and stepped up to the gate. Boss grabbed Truman’s collar with his giant hand. “Ain’t it past your bedtime, midget?”
Truman’s voice was strained. “I go to bed when I please. Besides, we’re here to see the pit. How much is it?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter; Boss immediately let go and snatched it from his hand.
“That much. Each.”
Truman dug his hand into his pocket again and produced another quarter. Catfish grabbed it. “That’ll do, boy. Just don’t get too close now, ya hear?”
Little Bit frowned at the kids. “Go on, children,” she said. “I’ll be waiting here. But hurry back as soon as y’all are finished with your foolishness.”
Right then, there was a sudden commotion. “Indian Joe is here,” someone said. Nelle and Truman were shoved aside as Catfish and Boss and a few of their good ol’ boys rose up to greet the man.
Indian Joe rode up on a black horse that had seen better days. Joe was tall and dark, with leathery skin that looked like it hadn’t spent a day indoors. Truman had never seen an actual Indian before, and Joe appeared to be the real deal. Strapped to his horse were two large cloth bags, both of which were squirming.
Joe surveyed the crowd silently, raised his hand, and said, “How.” Then he burst out laughing. “How y’all doing, you crackerheads!”
Everyone let out a big cheer as Indian Joe grabbed the bags and slid off his horse. Catfish slapped him on the back, “’Bout time ya got here, Joe. Folks is real eager to get going.”
Joe paused when he saw Nelle and Truman. He held up a bag in front of Nelle. “You kids like snakes?” Nelle covered her eyes, and Joe and Catfish burst out laughing again.
The mob crowded in as Joe and Catfish moved toward the big box. “Keep your eyes open,” Truman whispered to her. “Maybe this really is some kind of secret snake society.”
Joe handed one sack to Catfish and held the other one high for all to see. He then dramatically dumped its contents into the box. Truman and Nelle squeezed through the crowd so they could get a better look.
“A cottonmouth,” whispered Nelle as it coiled itself into the corner. It was a big one, maybe five feet long. Just like the one that bit her.
“And in this cornuh”—Catfish held up the other sack, which was almost jumping out of his hand—“the meanest king snake ever to slink upon this earth. Now, who’s gonna lay some bets?”
Hands shot up, coins and bills were exchanged, some folks shouting for the king, some for the cottonmouth. After Catfish’s pockets were sufficiently full, he dumped his sack into the box and backed up a step. Everyone hushed up and leaned in.
Five minutes must have passed with both snakes coiled and eyeing each other from opposite corners. Finally, the cottonmouth made a move and the king rose up, swaying back and forth like an angry cat’s tail. They stared each other down for the longest time, flicking tongues and hissing.
Indian Joe shouted “Wooeee!” and everyone jumped, including Truman, who almost fell into the box. The snakes suddenly lunged at each other and wrapped themselves into a squirming snake ball so tight, Truman couldn’t tell which snake was which.
After a minute of tussling, there was an audible snap. Nelle gasped. The cottonmouth twitched and flopped around for a few seconds and then finally stopped moving. Half the crowd roared as the king unfurled itself from the other. It had broken the cottonmouth’s spine.
Truman felt sick to his stomach. “Let’s get out of here,” he said as Catfish handed out money to the winners. Nelle saw him give a bundle of cash to Indian Joe and say, “See you after the meeting tonight down at the field behind the school. I’ll be up for some drinkin’ after some good fireworks.”
Little Bit stood there shaking her head at the kids as they came out. Nelle looked white as a ghost. “Happy? Did you find what you was looking for?”
“That was horrible, Little Bit. Why’d you let us see that?” asked Nelle.
“Sometimes, taking foul medicine keeps you from getting sick,” said Little Bit.
“What does that mean?” asked Truman.
“It mean, you shouldn’t go looking for troubles when you ain’t got none. Now let’s git back home.”
Truman nodded and took Little Bit’s hand, but Nelle stood her ground. “What about the fireflies?” she asked innocently.
Truman sighed. “It doesn’t really matter,” said Truman. “Besides, it’s too cold, isn’t it?”
Nelle crossed her arms. “It’s not cold. We got to go to the fields, Truman.” Something was different in her tone.
“Come on, childs, let’s get moving,” said Little Bit.
Nelle grabbed Truman’s hand and pulled him aside. “That man said there’s gonna be some kind of meeting in the fields behind the school tonight,” she whispered. “I think it’s part of their secret group.”
Truman nodded; he knew a good clue when he heard one. But they’d need an excuse if they were to get to the fields. Luckily for Truman, excuses were second nature to him.
He turned to Little Bit. “I did promise Nelle here that we’d collect glow bugs,” he said. “You can go home if you like; we’ll catch up in a little while.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I know spoilt milk when I smell it. No, Miss Jenny knows you kids is with me, so if you want to collect glow bugs, I’m coming with you.”