NINE
Perryville, Missouri
After leaping off the boat, Caviness managed to swim ashore, though he nearly drowned in the process. He lay on the riverbank for several minutes, trying to get his breath back. Caviness had not considered the fact that someone might be looking for him. No one saw him kill Jennie, so how would they know it was him?
Finally, Caviness stood and hitched up his pants. When he did, he suddenly realized that he had lost his knife. Then, he discovered he had lost all of his money as well. He looked back toward the river. Evidently, it had fallen from his pocket when he jumped into the water.
The money was in bills, issued by the Bank of the United States. It was paper money, not coin, which meant that the money was probably scattered all down the river by now.
“Son of a bitch!” Caviness screamed at the top of his voice. “Son of a bitch, son of a bitch, son of a bitch!”
Caviness crawled up to the top of the bank. From there he could see the boat moving majestically downriver, its chimneys belching smoke, the paddles slapping into the water, churning a wake that followed behind.
He had no real idea where he was, and he was wet, cold, hungry, and broke. Now he had to get to Philadelphia. He began following the river south.
That night, he saw a flatboat that had put in for the night. There were two men operating the boat, and he watched as they made it fast, then built a fire for their supper. The smell of the food made his stomach growl, but he stayed hidden until both were asleep. Then, sneaking down to the boat, he slipped the rope from the tree and pushed out into the stream. The current caught him and started him downriver at a fairly good clip.
All that night and the next day he rode the boat downriver. He passed Cape Girardeau, because he knew the steamboat was going to stop there and he was afraid they might know about him. The next town south was the small town of Commerce, so he put in there.
Commerce consisted of no more than a dozen buildings, all parallel with the river’s edge. When he landed, a man came down to take the rope and make the boat fast for him.
“Howdy. The name is Ferrell. I own a store here. What is it you are carrying?”
“Axes, shovels, iron stoves,” Caviness replied. He had examined the cargo during the trip down.
“Are you looking to sell it here? Or do you plan on going down to New Madrid?” Ferrell asked.
“I’ll sell it here.”
“Because you know I can’t pay as much as they do down at New Madrid.”
“What can you pay me?”
“Well, let me take a look here,” Ferrell said.
All the while Ferrell was poking through the cargo, he kept glancing up at Caviness. Caviness knew that he was looking at the wound left by the missing ear. Had the boat stopped here as well? Did this man know who he was? Finally, he could take it no longer.
“What the hell are you looking at, mister?” he demanded, angrily.
“I’m sorry,” Ferrell said, looking away quickly. “I know it ain’t good manners to stare at somethin’ like that. I was just wonderin’ how you come by a wound like that.”
“I was bit by a bear,” Caviness replied, sticking to his original story.
“I’m sorry I was starin’ at you,” Ferrell said, apologizing again. “I know it’s rude, I just . . . ” He let the sentence die.
“How much will you give me for all this?” Caviness asked.
“I figure I can pay you one hundred dollars,” the man said. “Like I said, you’d probably get more for it down in New Madrid, but I’ll give you a hundred for it.”
“I’ll take it,” Caviness said, smiling broadly. What a stroke of luck! This would replace the money he lost when he jumped into the river.
“All right, just bring your bill of lading on up to my store and I’ll pay you,” Ferrell said, stepping off the boat and heading toward the scattering of buildings.
“Bill of lading? I don’t have no bill of lading.”
Ferrell looked back in surprise. “You don’t have a bill of lading?”
“No,” Caviness replied. In truth, he didn’t know if he had one or not, because he wasn’t even sure of what it was.
“Mister, how’d you come by those goods if you don’t have a bill of lading?”
“I won the boat and everything on it in a card game,” Caviness answered.
Ferrell looked at him suspiciously. “Where?”
“Up in Ste. Genevieve,” Caviness said. “If you’ll just give me the one hundred dollars, I’ll be on my way.”
“Can’t do that,” Ferrell replied.
“What do you mean you can’t? Why not?”
“Mister, you may not know this, but time was when we had river pirates somethin’ awful. They’re most cleaned out now, but ever’ now and then there’s outlaws will prey on the boats comin’ downriver. So now it’s a law. Anything we buy off a boat has to have a bill of lading. If you don’t have one, I can’t buy your goods.”
“I’ll sell it all to you for fifty dollars,” Caviness said, watching the money he thought he had slipping away from him.
“Mister, I wouldn’t give you twenty-five dollars for it. Like as not, the man you won it from stole it off somebody.”
Ferrell walked away from the boat.
“Ten dollars!” Caviness shouted. “You can have the whole load for ten dollars!”
Ferrell stopped, then looked back toward Caviness. “Mister, I’m going to get the constable. He might want to talk to you about that man you won that from.”
Caviness had no desire to talk to the constable, so as Ferrell walked away, he slipped the rope free and pushed back into the stream. He reached the confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio the next afternoon, and there he abandoned the boat on the Illinois side.
From there he started following the Ohio River. About every other day or so, he would see boats going upriver, but he was afraid to take passage on one of them, for fear they might be looking for him.
If it hadn’t been for that damn dog chewing off his ear, he could’ve boarded any of the boats and no one would have been any the wiser. But if they were looking for someone with a chewed-off ear, that would make it pretty hard for him to blend in.
He wasn’t sure if the news had spread to the small towns along the river, but there was a good chance that it had. After all, the boats were making better time than he was, and news like that was generally the first thing folks would talk about.
When he abandoned the boat, he took the rest of the food with him, but it ran out after a few days. He had one day of absolute hunger, then happened onto a field of potatoes and dug up several of them. Those sustained him for the next several days. Then he was drawn to a travel camp by the smell of smoke from the fire.
Advancing just to the edge of the golden bubble of light, Caviness stayed in the darkness. That way, he could see but not be seen.
There was only one man in the camp, an older man from the looks of his white hair and beard. The man had no idea that he was being examined, but the horse sensed the presence of a stranger and began whickering. Alerted, the man looked up.
“Hello?” he said. “Anyone out there?”
“Hello the camp,” Caviness called. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” the man replied. “Come on in. I’ve got enough stew for two. I’d enjoy the company.”
“Thanks,” Caviness said, walking into the bubble of light.
“You got your own pan?” the man asked.
“No.”
“No matter, we can get a piece of bark to use as a plate. Have a . . . God’s name, man! What happened to your ear?”
“I had a run-in with a bear.”
“Bear? In Ohio?”
“Back in Missouri,” Caviness said.
“Oh, my, you were lucky to survive,” the man said. Finding a flat piece of birch bark, he spooned up some of the stew, then handed it over to Caviness. “I don’t reckon you have a fork or a spoon either,” he said.
“No,” Caviness replied. “But this’ll do.” He held up a smaller piece of bark and began using it as a spoon.
“If you don’t mind my asking, how is it that you are traveling with none of the things you need?”
“I was traveling by boat,” Caviness said. “The boat sank and I lost everything.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. Where are you headed?”
“Philadelphia.”
“Big town, Philadelphia,” the man replied. “My name is Seagraves. Milton Seagraves. I’m on my way to Cincinnati to take a job with a newspaper. What’s your line of work?”
“Whatever I can get,” Caviness said. “I’m sort of a handyman.”
“Well, if you are willing to work, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of jobs for you in a city as big as Philadelphia.”
“You aren’t carrying a gun?”
“A gun?” Seagraves replied. He shook his head. “Heavens, no, why should I carry a gun? Ohio is civilized country.”
“I just thought you might have one,” Caviness said.
“No, siree, I don’t own one and I don’t intend to ever own one. I don’t hold much with guns. I do have a knife, though,” he said, pulling the knife from his belt. It was a good-sized knife, much like the one Caviness had used to kill Jennie, and the one he had lost in the river.
“Good stew,” Caviness said. “I appreciate the invite.”
“You’re mighty welcome. Like I said, I enjoy the company.”
“Fire’s getting’ low,” Caviness said.
“That’s all right. Bout time to turn in anyway.”
“I see a good-sized piece of wood over there,” Caviness said. “I’ll get it and throw just one more piece on the fire.”
Seagraves chuckled. “Go ahead. If we’re going to talk a while longer, we may as well be lookin’ at each other while we’re doin’ it.”
Caviness walked over to pick up the piece of wood. It was about three feet long and three or four inches in diameter. In truth, it wasn’t a very good piece for burning at all, but it was an excellent piece for Caviness’s use.
“So tell me about that bear,” Seagraves said without turning toward Caviness, who was now coming up behind Seagraves’s back. “How did he happen to chaw off an ear without taking off your head?” He chuckled. “That’s a story I’d like to—”
That was as far as Seagraves got. At that moment, Caviness brought the club around, holding it in both hands and swinging hard. The blow crushed the side of Seagraves’s head, and he fell forward into the fire.
The next morning Seagraves was still belly-down, with his head in the ashes of what had been the previous night’s fire. His head was turned to one side and the bottom of his face was burned away so that what flesh was left was blackened and disfigured. Amazingly, the top half of his face was undamaged.
Caviness found a change of clothes that were somewhat less conspicuous than the clothes he was wearing, so he changed. Then, saddling Seagrave’s horse, he rode off.
Near Alexandria, Ohio
Two days later, when he smelled pork chops frying, he determined to find its source. Riding through a cornfield, he came upon a small farmhouse, the origin of the enticing aroma. Dismounting, he tied the horse off, then using trees and bushes to mask his approach, eased up to the house.
Looking through the window, he saw a man sitting in a chair, smoking a pipe and reading a book. In addition to the man, there were two women standing at the stove. As he examined them more closely, he saw that one of the women was very young, perhaps no more than fifteen or sixteen years old.
“Papa, supper’s about ready,” the younger woman said.
“All right, missy, I’ll sit at the table soon as I finish reading this page.”
“Go get Billy, Suzie,” the older woman said.
Nodding, Suzie opened the back door. From his position of observation through the window, Caviness saw that the man was sitting with his back to the door Suzie had just used. That was good. That meant that the door would be unlocked because Suzie had just gone through it. And as Suzie’s father’s back was to the door, Caviness would be able to sneak in without being seen.
Moving quietly, and with the knife he had taken from Seagraves in his hand, Caviness opened the door and slipped inside.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” the man said without looking around.
Caviness stepped up behind the chair, then drew the knife across the man’s throat, cutting jugular and windpipe. Unable to make a sound, the man grabbed the wound on his neck, then tumbled forward from the chair.
The woman had stepped out of the kitchen for a moment, but hearing the fall, called out.
“Hiram, what was that? What just fell?”
Caviness stepped quickly to one side of the door and waited for the woman to come back into the room.
“Hiram?” the woman called again.
Once again, Caviness made use of his knife, slicing the woman’s throat. She died as silently as her husband.
With the bloody knife still in his hand, Caviness walked over to the table, where he picked up a pork chop and began eating.
As soon as the girl came back, Caviness would take care of her . . . though not before he had a little fun with her. Then he would search the house for a gun, any money they might have, and some extra food. Maybe a blanket or a quilt would be nice too.
Outside the house, seventeen-year-old Billy Potter was using a pitchfork to toss hay in the feeding trough when Suzie came to get him.
“Mama says get washed up for supper.”
“What are we having?”
“Pork chops,” Suzie answered. “And I cooked them.”
“Ha! If you cooked them, they are probably poison,” Billy teased.
“Well, if you don’t like them, you don’t have to eat them.”
“Oh, I’ll eat them, all right,” Billy said. “I won’t like them, but I’ll eat them.”
Finishing with the hay, Billy walked over to the well, where he drew out some water and poured it into a basin.
“Billy, are you going to the county fair this Saturday?”
“Yes.”
“Will you take me?” Suzie asked hopefully.
“No, I won’t take you. Who wants to go to a county fair with a little sister hanging around him all the time?”
“Little sister?” Suzie replied. “I’m near as old as you are,” Suzie said. “And I’m almost a woman, full grow’d now.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of. You’ll go sparking with all the boys, and I’m the one that will get in trouble for letting you do it.”
“I won’t.”
“You will too. You’re the biggest tease in the whole county.”
“Ohh, you make me so mad!” Suzie said. She grabbed the pan of water and started to toss it on him.
“No, no, wait! You can go! I was just teasing!” Billy said, laughing.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Suzie put the water pan down and Billy grabbed it. “I’ll show you to threaten me,” he said, starting after her.
Laughing and screaming, Suzie ran back up to the house with Billy chasing her.
“Mama! Billy is going to . . . ” Suzie started, but as soon as she stepped into the house she gasped, then screamed.
There, on the floor of the kitchen, lay her mother and dad, both with their throats cut. The most terrifying-looking human being Suzie had ever seen was standing there over them, holding a bloody knife in one hand and a pork chop in the other.
Billy, coming in right behind her, saw the scene as well.
“Suzie, run!” Billy shouted, pulling her back outside and giving her a shove. Billy turned and ran with her.
Reaching the barn, Billie grabbed the pitchfork he had been working with, then turned back.
Caviness had come as far as the kitchen door to chase them, but when he saw the boy with a pitchfork, he had second thoughts. He didn’t have a gun. All he had was a knife. Even though this was just a boy, the kid was nearly full grown. In a fight between a knife and a pitchfork, the pitchfork would always win.
Turning to go back through the kitchen, Caviness grabbed a couple more pork chops, then ran out the front door and headed for his horse. He managed to get mounted just as the boy came out the front door of the house.
“You son of a bitch!” the boy called. “You bastard! You killed my ma and pa!” The boy chased after him, but couldn’t catch up with the horse, which easily opened the distance between them.
Caviness hadn’t noticed the boy when he first came upon the house. If he had, he might have been able to surprise the boy and take care of him first. Instead, the boy had almost managed to kill him. Caviness knew that if he was going to survive this, he was going to have to be much more careful in the future.