Mr. Raney took the scratchy wool army blanket and laid it over the girl so she wouldn’t look so pitiful. The blood smelled like a big raccoon in the house.
He sat down next to Hydro on the army cot.
After a while, Mr. Raney got up and walked over to the shelf where the canned vegetables sat. The whole back side of a lard bucket had split wide open where his bullet came out.
There was a pay telephone out on the wall, outside, up under the shed.
Mr. Raney felt around in his pants pockets, looking for change for the phone box.
Hydro said, “Morgan said I was hopeless.”
Mr. Raney looked at his son. He said, “Was the sharpshooter out here? Did he do this?”
Hydro said, “I buried a watermelon.”
Mr. Raney didn’t know what to say. He thought for a minute. He said, “Well, that’s all right.”
Hydro didn’t say anything. He seemed to be looking at something far off, somewhere.
Mr. Raney looked at the dead bodies, the bullet holes between the eyes.
He said, “So Morgan done the shooting and then run off, did he?”
Hydro still didn’t say anything. Hydro was tired of talking now. All of a sudden, he just couldn’t say another word.
Mr. Raney waited for a minute.
Hydro was staring at the wall.
Mr. Raney said, “I can understand you not being in a talkative mood.”
Mr. Raney went outside and put a nickel in the phone box. He said, “Webber, this is Mr. Raney.”
On the other end of the line Marshal Chisholm said, “This phone is just for official use, that’s all.”
This meant the marshal was watching his new Philco television set and didn’t want to talk.
Mr. Raney said, “There’s two dead people laying out in William Tell. Morgan killed them, it looks like.”
There was a silence on the line. A TV set was playing in the background.
Webber said, “Dead? Are you sure?”
Mr. Raney said, “Oh, they’re dead all right.”
Webber said, “Two people, you say?”
Mr. Raney said, “Two lovely children.”
He said, “Who are they?”
Mr. Raney said, “Strangers. A boy and a girl.”
Mr. Raney could hear the music from the Philco. He knew Webber was watching some program.
He said, “Webber, are you there?”
Mr. Raney hung up the phone and went back inside the store. He sat on the cot beside Hydro.
He put his hand on Hydro’s knee and gave it a pat.
THEY KEPT on sitting there for a while. A long time passed.
The marshal was taking forever to get out to William Tell. Mr. Raney said, “What I ought to have done was slung this pair up in the back of the pickup and drove them into town. We are going to have buzzards nesting on the lard buckets before Webber ever gets his lazy self out here.”
Hydro laid his big head on his daddy’s shoulder, and Mr. Raney held his boy and rocked him in his arms, sitting on the army cot.
Mr. Raney kissed Hydro’s hair and rocked him in his arms. He hummed a little lullaby.
In the pantry Louis heard the humming and put down his comic book and listened.
Mr. Raney sang, Sixty minute man, they call me Lovin’ Dan.
He sang, Money, honey, if you want to get along with me.
He sang, Come ride with me in my Rocket 88.
He sang, Honey, hush.
Hydro said, “She said she never did tail with no retard. She said it made her want to throw up, she was so disgusted with herself.”
Back in the pantry, Louis thought about his mama and daddy, at home in Arrow Catcher.
Hydro’s daddy looked at his son. He said, “Tail?”
About that time, Marshal Chisholm drove up in his Jeep and so Mr. Raney got up and stepped over the bodies and went out to the front of the store.
He hollered out the front door, “Hey, Webber. We’re in here.”
The marshal was adjusting his pistol belt beneath his stomach as he stepped down out of the Jeep. He looked up and squinted in the direction of the light.
He said, “Who’s talking?”
Mr. Raney said, “Mr. Raney.”
He kicked mud off his boots on the porch steps and came on in the store. He said to Hydro, “You was mighty durn lucky you had a sharpshooter as a visitor.”
Hydro said, “I buried the watermelon.”
Mr. Raney said, “That reminds me, I ought to put this old thing back in its bag in the toolbox.” Talking about his pistol with the ten-inch barrel. He said, “I store it in mutton.”
The marshal said, “Just to keep the record straight, Mr. Raney, you ain’t shot nobody tonight yourself, have you?”
Mr. Raney said, “I ain’t shot nothing but a lard can. I pretty well greased Mr. William Tell’s floor.”
The two men laughed quietly.
Hydro said, “I done it.”
Both men looked at him.
They stood around the store for a couple of minutes.
Louis McNaughton came out of the pantry.
Mr. Raney said, “Hoo!”
He said, “Louis, you like to scared me half to death.”
Louis said, “Sorry.”
Webber Chisholm said, “Hey, Louis.”
Mr. Raney said, “Did you see Morgan kill these two lovely children?”
Louis looked at Hydro. He thought about this.
Webber Chisholm said, “Morgan is the Lone Ranger, ain’t he?”
Mr. Raney said, “He cleaned up Dodge and rode out of town.”
The marshal said, “Who was that masked man?”
Louis said, “Hi-yo, Silver.”
Everybody looked at Louis.
Mr. Raney said, “That’s a good one. Hi-yo, Silver. You sharp, Louis.”
Webber Chisholm said, “You all right, Louis?”
He said, “I guess so.”
Webber said, “You know who you look a little bit like, Louis. You kind of favor Mr. Peepers. You know. On the TV show.”
Louis said, “Uh huh.”
Webber Chisholm said, “It’s the glasses, I think. A little bit owlish, you know.”
Louis said, “Yessir.”
The four of them stood around for a few minutes and stared at the bodies.
Webber said, “Well, I sure do hate to call the Prince of Darkness, this time of night.”
Mr. Raney said, “I don’t know how that man stays in business, with his attitude.”
Webber said, “Business keeps coming.”
Mr. Raney said, “Ain’t nothing certain but death and taxes.”
Webber said, “This was some solid-gold shooting Morgan done here.”
Mr. Raney said, “He saved my boy’s life.”
Webber said, “Well, I’ll talk to him tonight or tomorrow.”
Mr. Raney said, “Give him my thanks.”
Webber said, “Well—”
Mr. Raney said, “I’ll call the Prince of Darkness for the ambulance if you want me too.”
Webber said, “No, it is my job.”
Mr. Raney said, “Another idea might be, we could sling these two lovely children up in the bed of my truck and drive them in our ownself.”
Webber said, “That’s a thought.”
Mr. Raney said, “Okay, then, why don’t we do that. I’ll take that old metal toolbox out of the bed and stick it in the floorboards of the cab, so it don’t go slamming up against them. Not that it’s going to make much difference to these two.” He said, “Hydro, I brought along an extra peach pie if all this excitement made you hungry.”
Webber said, “They wouldn’t hardly fit in the Jeep. I thought about taking them back in the Jeep. We’d have to set them up in the seats, though. It would be disrespectful.”
Mr. Raney said, “The pickup would be more dignified.”
Webber said, “It’s not exactly the Prince of Darkness’s Cadillac hearse, though, is it?”
Webber looked over at Hydro, who looked a little pale.
Mr. Raney said, “Are you all right, son?”
Webber said, “Set down, Hydro, take a load off, why don’t you. Have a seat on the cot.”
Mr. Raney went out to the pickup and let down the tailgate.
Webber took the army blanket off the girl’s body and spread it out like a pallet alongside her. He said, “Step back, Louis. Set over there on the cot next to Hydro.” He rolled her over onto the blanket and straightened out her legs and arranged her arms at her sides.
He folded the blanket up over the girl and took hold of one end. He said, “Mr. Raney, you take the head end.”
In this way they dragged the girl’s body across the floor, and down the steps and across the graveled lot and around to the back of the truck. They positioned themselves at the tailgate.
Hydro watched, and then he eased out the back door and stood by the fence and puked real good.
Louis walked out to the truck to watch.
Webber said, “Ready?”
Mr. Raney said, “Whenever you are.”
They said, “One two three,” and slung the blanket and the girl like throwing sandbags up on the levee. The body landed up in the bed of the truck, flop.
Mr. Raney got up in the truck and pulled the blanket with the body in it up to the front end, to make room for the boy, when it came his turn. He had to roll the girl out of the blanket, so he could use it in the same way, one more time. She spilled out like tent poles out of a rolled-up tent.
The dead boy was a little heavier, but not bad. The two men worked a little better together the second time around.
Hydro had some color back in his cheeks now. He came out and stood next to Louis.
Mr. Raney slammed the heavy tailgate up and secured it in place with two metal hooks, one on each side. He and Webber were both blowing pretty hard by now.
Webber said, “I’ll put on the light. No need for the siren. You follow me to the Prince of Darkness Funeral Parlor.”
Mr. Raney said, “I got to catch my breath.”
He put the big pistol back in the mutton-greased leather bag, and he and Hydro climbed up in the cab and slammed the heavy doors shut.
Webber said, “Louis, you come on with me.”
Louis said, “Can I ride back in the bed?”
Webber said, “Come on with me. Mr. Raney might have to stop real sudden.”
Louis said, “Nobody ever lets me ride in the bed.”
Webber said, “Not tonight, honey, come on.”
Louis said, “Can I blow the siren?”
Webber said, “Come on, I’ll let you turn on the light.”
Louis got in the patrol car, and Webber Chisholm eased it out onto the highway and turned towards Arrow Catcher, with his siren silent and his red light going zoop-zoop-zoop. Mr. Raney and Hydro drove slow behind the patrol car in Mr. Raney’s pickup, real careful, so the bodies in the back wouldn’t slide around too much. Hydro looked straight ahead and didn’t talk. Mr. Raney couldn’t think of anything to talk about either. Louis could have ridden back there in the bed tonight, slow as Mr. Raney was driving.
THE PRINCE of Darkness was a skinny baldheaded man in a black suit; he had big dark bags underneath his eyes, and bony hands. He was raised from the dead when he was just a young man, a boy really. That was the story, anyway.
He came to the back door when Webber rang the bell. He said, “Pull up next to the spigot, you can use the hose to wash out Raney’s truck.”
The Prince of Darkness sang bass at St. George by the Lake Episcopal Church and looked like one of his own customers. You hated to see the Prince of Darkness in the middle of the night at a funeral parlor. It wasn’t quite as bad for Mr. Raney, who had known him all his life, ever since Mrs. Mitchum’s kindergarten, down in the basement of the old Arrow Catcher community house, when he and Mr. Raney were children.
The Prince of Darkness waved out the back door to Hydro, who was standing out by his daddy’s truck. He hollered to him, in his odd old nasal mortuary voice, “Hydro, you’ll live forever with the blood of these two children on your hands. Come by here and talk about it sometime, if you want to.” Then he said, “Hey, Louis.”
He closed the door and went back inside. Hydro did not see him again.
Mr. Raney said, “It was Morgan that did the shooting.”
The Prince of Darkness wasn’t in a talkative mood. He gave Mr. Raney a look. The looks the Prince of Darkness gave you were black, black.
Mr. Raney said, “Well, we got to get on back out to the island. It’s late.”
Webber said, “I guess I ought to hang around for a while. There might be some more paperwork.”
Mr. Raney drove his truck around to the back of the funeral parlor and hosed the blood out of the bed.
He said, “Good night, Webber.”
Webber said, “Good night. Good night, Hydro.”
Mr. Raney said, “Louis, you want me to drop you at your house?”
Louis said, “Can I ride in the bed?”
Webber Chisholm said, “I don’t want you riding in the bed of no truck, Louis. You stay with me. I’ll take you home.”
Louis said, “You’re not my daddy.”
Webber said, “And proud of it.”
Hydro said, “Sometimes it seems like this ain’t really my head. It seems like I’m carrying somebody else’s head around on my shoulders.”
Webber looked at him. He said, “I think we all feel that way sometimes, Hydro. Only it’s my butt and my belly instead of my head. You could park a Chevrolet Bel Air in the shadow of my butt.”
Mr. Raney said, “Say good night to the Prince of Darkness for us, won’t you now. Tell him we said ‘Much obliged.’”
Webber said, “Y’all try to get some rest.”
Hydro looked at his daddy.
Hydro said, “Is it true he was brung back from the dead by a voodoo woman?”
Mr. Raney shrugged his shoulders. He said, “Yes. Yes, it is.”
They stood around the truck for a while.
Hydro said, “Why does he have a name like the Prince of Darkness?”
Mr. Raney said, “His mama changed his name after he was brought back from the dead.”
Hydro said, “I’m glad I’ve got me a nickname.”
Mr. Raney said, “You don’t like your real name?”
Mr. Raney said, “Sometimes in my dreams your mama is still alive, and we call you Ramon Fernandez.”
Webber Chisholm said, “Louis, you stick around here with me. I’ll take you home after a while.”
WEBBER WENT back inside the funeral parlor. He knew the Prince of Darkness would want some help washing the bodies. Louis followed the marshal inside and stayed quiet so he wouldn’t get run off.
Webber said, “Prince of Darkness, I’m going to run Louis home first, so his folks don’t get worried about him.”
Louis said, “They don’t mind.”
The Prince of Darkness said, “This won’t take but a minute.”
Webber said, “I ought to take Louis—”
Louis said, “I’m safer here with you.”
Webber Chisholm looked at him. He said, “Well, you’re probably right about that.”
The Prince of Darkness said, “One minute, that’s all it’ll take.”
The boy and girl were laid out on two slabs, stainless steel tables in a bright clean room. Louis stood over to one side, where he could see. The Prince of Darkness undressed the young man first and folded his clothes, bloody as they were, and laid them on a chair.
He said to Webber, “Here, hold this pan.”
Webber said, “I’m going to have bad dreams, I just know I am.”
Webber said, “Goddurn it, Louis.” Louis didn’t move.
Webber took the enameled, boomerang-shaped pan and slipped it up underneath the dead boy’s neck. The Prince of Darkness smoothed back the boy’s long greasy hair, out of his eyes. It was a little like watching your wife get her hair washed down at Maude’s Beauty Shoppe.
Louis eased around next to the table so he could see better.
Webber said, “Louis, you run on out in the casket room and play. You ain’t got no business in here.”
Louis said, “Okay.”
The Prince of Darkness said, “Take your shoes off if you play inside the caskets. Don’t be getting mud on those satin cushions.”
Louis said, “Yessir.”
Louis didn’t move.
The Prince of Darkness pulled a little rubber hose and nozzle up out of the sink and directed the stream onto the boy’s head. The water in the pan turned pink as he cleaned the wound.
He said, “Hand me the Prell.”
Webber only stood and watched. Louis handed him the bottle of shampoo.
The Prince of Darkness lathered the boy’s hair and washed it with a little red rubber massager. He rinsed it with the rubber hose and toweled it dry with a rough, clean towel. He combed the boy’s hair straight back with a hairbrush with a pink plastic handle.
The Prince of Darkness said, “I used to use Breck. I’m boycotting Breck now, though.”
Webber said, “You don’t say.” He was about to faint, just from holding the pan.
The Prince of Darkness said, “It was Breck that sponsored the Shakespeare specials last fall. Lear, Hamlet, another one about a colored man, and some durn thing about a dream, fairies running every whichaway.”
Webber said, “Well, that sounds pretty good.”
The Prince of Darkness said, “It was good. It was the commercials I couldn’t stand. The Breck commercials.”
Louis said, “I watched the play about the colored man.”
The Prince of Darkness said, “These commercials came popping up every time you turned around, right in the middle of the best parts—all these women washing their hair.”
Webber said to Louis, “What was the colored man’s name?”
The Prince of Darkness said, “Just when you was getting interested in the fairies or the fallen kingdoms, I’ll be goddurned if somebody didn’t have to bring up the subject of hair-washing. They couldn’t let it alone.”
Louis said, “It was a funny name.”
The Prince of Darkness said, “A king had lost his daughters and his mind and his entire realm, and some big grinning ape comes in and starts talking to you about women washing their hair with Breck.”
Webber said, “Well—”
The Prince of Darkness said, “Loss is important, magic too. They’re the most important things that ever happen to people. Breck shampoo made the whole idea of loss and magic seem trivial.”
Webber said, “Don’t get all worked up.”
The Prince of Darkness said, “You don’t see Cordelia washing her hair every five minutes of the livelong day, do you?”
Webber said, “Cordelia?”
The Prince of Darkness said, “You don’t see Goneril—”
Webber said, “I’m acquainted with a Cordelia, out on Runnymede, takes in washing and ironing.”
The Prince of Darkness said, “A big soap company has no business trivializing a king, I don’t care how unpleasant he was to his family. Every family’s got troubles. You name me one family that doesn’t have some kind of trouble, sex or money, marriage or children. You can’t do it. That doesn’t mean you have to trivialize him.”
Webber didn’t say anything else. He didn’t want to provoke the Prince of Darkness any more than he already had. One time the Prince of Darkness got all worked up and told him the entire plot of The Mikado and sang him two of the songs, every verse.
The Prince of Darkness finished bathing the boy in a tense silence. Webber helped him lift the boy off the table after his bath, and so then the Prince of Darkness cleaned up the girl in the same way. This time the marshal did the hair-washing. The two men rolled the dead boy and girl into the meat locker and closed the heavy door.
The Prince of Darkness said to the boy, “Louis, I hope I haven’t kept you up past your bedtime.”
Louis said, “I don’t mind.”
Webber said, “Well, maybe we better be moving on.” He put his big hand on the child’s shoulder.
Louis said, “Can I blow the siren?”
Webber said, “You want to wake up the dead?”
Louis said, “Can I?”
Webber said, “Wake up the dead?”
Louis said, “The siren.”
Webber said, “Well, okay. But just this one time.”
THIS LONG day was almost over for Mr. Raney. The sky was clear, and the moon was high. Mr. Raney parked his pickup down on Harper Road, next to the Roebuck bridge. The breeze off the lake smelled like willow branches and mimosa blossoms and weevil poison and fish.
Mr. Raney and Hydro clumped around in the dark for a while, getting settled in the boat, Hydro in the front end, and his daddy in the back. Mr. Raney unlashed the boat from the pilings and pushed it out into the water, underneath the starry-starry skies. He wrapped the little cotton pull-rope around the crank shaft on the Evinrude, and started it, again with the first pull. A fragrance of warm oil and gasoline soon filled their nostrils.
Mr. Raney turned the bow of the boat out into the bayou. They passed beneath the dark pilings of the Roebuck bridge, and smelled creosote on the breeze then. They passed among the tupelo gums and sweet gums and cypress and the wild pecan, where wild canaries slept, and jungle birds. In the deep water, the dolphins followed them, sliced the water and turned it silver, and left echoes of their voices in the swampy air, and then they swam away.
Through the starry night, the motorboat took Hydro and his daddy past the alligators in their nests, past beaver dams, where beavers as large as collies sliced through the stream, past a nest of water moccasins, far, far away from William Tell, and to their safe beds in their home, at the fishcamp on the island.