26

Nighttime settled in black as roofing tar. Above, a sky full of stars twinkled in a moonless sky.

Rabbits, coons, skunks, possums, rats, mice and other critters went about their business, mostly rustling the bushes to make me wonder and quicken my pace. Meeting a skunk would be bad. It would take more than a squirt of deodorant to get rid of that smell. A flutter from a tree or the quick sound of wings on the wind told of a bird’s travels.

I found myself behind several paces. “Sure not too many folks out this time of night, but I was thinking…we ought to hide if someone comes. Too many questions to answer.”

“You’re right. But what if it’s Dad and we miss him? I know. We’ll hide if they come from behind us.”

I put my hand to my hip pocket to make sure my Bible was still there. “What did you do with your Bible?”

“It’s in my pocket. Why?”

“Just wondering. You know it has red letters in it. I wonder why?”

“Not all of them are red, but some are. I seen it too.”

“Reckon what they mean?”

A screech owl cut loose back in the woods. Irritating critters when they sat in a tree outside the window at night. They’re good as any guard dog. The boogieman would have a screech like that if there was such a thing.

“Who knows,” Cameron said. “I know what red letters mean on my tests and homework, but after that…I suppose we’ll find out soon as we read some.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Didn’t think about that.”

Cameron let out a good puff. “I’m about ready for bed. How far we come you think?”

“Couple of miles maybe. The road down to the Thompson’s house should be up here on the left. It’s black out tonight. The white stripes are longer than I thought.”

“Where’d that come from, T?”

“I don’t know.” I counted the paces from one end of a line to the next in my mind. “They seem shorter when we’re riding in the truck. A car’s coming.”

We jumped into the borrow pit and ducked down. Just in time. Headlights topped the rise behind us. A pickup. Too quiet to be Dad’s and coming from the wrong direction. The light grew brighter by the second. Shadows of grass and weeds grew bigger and darker on Cameron’s face then moved quicker and quicker as the pickup approached. Then, just as fast, night returned. We stood to watch it speed away, two red lights with a small white light over the license plate between them. The air following it hit us in the back. It cooled the sweat and carried a hint of exhaust fumes.

“Look there, T. Jake’s coming.”

Sure enough, Jake padded up the road about sixty paces distant, illuminated for a second in the lights of the pickup.

He trotted straight to me, his tail going ninety. I gave him a hug.

Cameron bent over and scruffed him on the head. “That’s some dog. How’d he know where we were? He came right to us.”

“Cameron, I already told you.”

“T, you get out that red-covered book tomorrow and get to reading. If it mentions an angel named Jake, then I’ll listen.”

“I’m just saying. He knows everything. How else do you explain it?”

“Not going to try. Just a good dog looking for his master.”

Uh-oh. Lights hit us. It was too late to run. Someone drove up on us while we talked. The glare of lights wouldn’t let me see who, but I knew it couldn’t be Dad. Jake’s tail wagged, slow and easy.

The top of the car exploded in blue and red lights. May as well have been Dad because my heart reacted the same way.

A voice came from behind the lights, deep and husky but nice. “Boys, you’re out walking the roadway late. Should you be hunting coons on a school night?”

I held up a hand to block the lights, but I still couldn’t see past them. “No, sir, we’re not coon hunting. We’re walking home, that’s all.”

The headlights dimmed. Then the officer stepped into view. A dark man with no features. His gun, handcuffs, and the like, stuck out at his side—obvious with so much light behind him.

“Where you been?”

“Down to the white church for Wednesday night service,” I said.

He walked up to us and turned, his face in the light. His pants had sharp creases down the legs, shirtsleeves buttoned at the wrists and creased like the pants. A neat, dark mustache curved downward beside his mouth. A cowboy hat shaded his eyes.

I watched his lips.

“You boys always take your dog to church?”

Cameron seemed happy to let me talk. “No sir. Dad took us, but he didn’t come back when it was over. He said he’d be there, but I don’t know…maybe something happened.”

He leaned over to rub Jake’s head and ears. “This your dog, then?”

“He’s mine. His name is Jake. He came to meet us. Knew we were walking, I guess.”

“I’m Sheriff Bowles. What are your names?”

“I’m Ty, Ty Ray. This is my brother, Cameron.”

He pulled a small pad and pencil from his shirt pocket and scribbled in it.

“Well, I tell you what. You boys bring your dog and get in. I’ll take you home.”

Boy, we were in for it now. I felt like arguing, but what do you tell the sheriff? We crawled into the back with Jake between us. Jake sat in the seat, looking out the window like he’d done it before.

The car had a metal screen between the front and back and no door handles in the back. The radio squawked; it was a lady’s voice. “Don and Willamina Ray, children Ty and Cameron, fourteen, no address, only a P.O. Box, no warrants.”

Sheriff Bowles said, “Roger,” into his police radio. “Point me in the right direction, one of you, please.” His eyes appeared in the mirror. “Cameron, you’re not much of a talker.”

“No, sir,” Cameron said.

I gave directions. Then I leaned over and whispered to Cameron, “What we going to tell Dad?”

“Let Dad tell the sheriff how come he didn’t come get us. We don’t got to say a word. You watch.”

Here it was again, plain and simple, laid out in Cameron’s knack for stating the obvious. Simple always seemed to baffle me.

Our house loomed dark as the night around it. The living room light came on about the time the sheriff opened the door for us.

Jake hopped out and plodded off toward the barn.

Dad, dressed in khaki britches and white undershirt, stepped onto the front concrete steps. “What’s going on here?” he yelled.

“I brought your boys home, Mr. Ray.”

“Oh,” Dad said. “Well, you boys go get your chores done and get to bed.”

The sheriff’s jaw dropped. “Wait a minute. You boys stay right there.”

Cameron got it right again. Dad was in for it.

The sheriff pulled out a small flashlight, clicked it on and pointed it at Dad. Dad’s hand flew up to guard his eyes. “Sir, I picked up your boys and their dog nearly two miles from here. They said you took them to church.”

Dad walked off the stoop two steps and puffed up. “So? What of it?”

“You dropped them off and they were supposed to walk home? Four miles on a school night. Am I missing something, sir?”

“Well, I…I got truck problems.”

The sheriff opened his mouth then closed it. He turned away from Dad, paused, looked into the night then turned back. “So, you go to bed and let them fend for themselves? Boys, step into the house. Never mind your chores for now. Mr. Ray, you step out here. I want to look you in the eye a minute.”