TWENTY

Billy Swimmer leaned into the sharp curve of Bear Wallow Road, the bald back tires of his truck squealing. Homer, his Plott hound, braced himself against the side of the truck and turned his nose to the wind, his ears blowing back like little wings on either side of his head. Billy punched the pickup into third gear and climbed the rest of the way up the hill hunched forward over the steering wheel, as if that might propel the old truck faster. An impatient stranger with a thousand dollars was waiting for him, but who knew for how long? Billy figured he had about fifteen minutes to pack his gear and break the news of his adventure to Tam.

He turned up the steep, weedy driveway that led to their trailer and pulled the truck up by the front door. He hadn’t had time enough to think of a way to make this go down sweeter, so he guessed he would just have to tell Tam the truth. He grabbed his feathered headdress from the passenger seat and raced to the front door, Homer following at his heels.

“Billy!” Tam looked up, surprised, as they came in the door. She sat cross-legged in the faded green La-Z-Boy that sprawled in front of the TV set. Pink rollers sprouted from her head and she dabbed gold eye shadow on her upper lids while a lady on the shopping channel cooed over a fake diamond bracelet. “How come you’re home so soon?”

“Something happened.” Billy placed the headdress in the middle of the card table they used as a dinette. Homer’s toenails clicked on the linoleum as he headed for his water dish in the kitchen.

Tamara’s blue eyes darkened with fear. “Zell Crisp didn’t try to beat you up again over that money you owe him, did he?”

“No, nothing like that.” Billy took a deep breath. This was not going to be easy. Tam had been planning this evening for months. He walked over and knelt down beside her chair.

“Tam, I need to tell you something, and it’s God’s own truth. A few minutes ago a man came by and offered me a thousand dollars to lead him to Mary Crow.”

Tam snorted. “Yeah, right, Billy. And Dick Clark just dropped by here with balloons and a big ol’ check from the magazine sweepstakes.” She checked one eye in her makeup mirror.

“No, honey, it’s true. I swear.” Billy sat down on the floor and put a tentative hand on Tam’s foot. “This man’s from Mary’s law office down in Georgia. They need her for some kind of emergency. Probably some criminal’s escaped and she needs to help catch him.”

“What’s Mary Crow doing back up here? I thought she lived in Atlanta with that rich old grandmother of hers.”

“She’s gone camping with some of her friends.” Billy shrugged. “I talked to Jonathan this afternoon.”

“Then why don’t you let Jonathan go after her? He’s the hotshot tracker. And he’d like nothing better than a good excuse to go running after Mary Crow.”

Billy stared at the floor, guilty. “The man said the more who track, the less the pay.”

“So?” Tam began to dab moisturizer under her left eye.

“So this fella’s in a real swivet—he needs to find Mary as soon as he can. I’m going to lead him up to Atagahi by myself.” Billy coughed. “So I guess we won’t be going out tonight.”

Tamara turned her eyes away from her mirror and stared at him, stunned. “We what?”

Billy kept looking at the floor. “I don’t reckon we can go out. Not tonight, anyway.”

“Billy, this is our anniversary! We haven’t been anywhere in months. My sister’s coming all the way from Robbinsville to watch Michael.”

“I know, Tam, but do you know how far a thousand bucks would go? I could get my fiddle out of hock and pay off Zell. Then I could stop wearing those stupid feathers and make some real money playing music. We might could even take Michael to Dollywood.”

Tamara glared at him, unsmiling. “Billy, if this is just some scheme so you can get more money to waste gambling with Zell Crisp, I’ll kill you—”

“No. I swear. This guy just drove up in this brand-new Taurus while I was out by the picture stand. He’s big and strong, but he talks just like a lawyer. He’s waiting for me right now.” Billy inched his hand up Tam’s leg.

She started to blink away tears. “Couldn’t you just tell him how to get to Atagahi? We could use old grocery sacks and some of Michael’s crayons and draw him a map.”

Billy shook his head. “I don’t think he’d pay me a thousand dollars for a map on a grocery sack.”

“Oh, Billy.” Tam wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. The gold shadow smeared. “Do you have to?”

“I’m sorry, honey,” Billy pleaded. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. When he gives me my thousand dollars we’ll spend the first hundred of it on us. Just ourselves.”

“Promise?” Tam’s voice sounded like the mew of a kitten.

“Cross my heart.” Billy made an X over his chest.

“Promise you won’t go betting any more money on the football games with Zell Crisp again? Ever?”

“Never again,” Billy swore. “This time I learned my lesson.” He got up from the floor and kissed her. At first she held her mouth hard against him, then slowly her lips softened, forgiving him once again.

“Well,” he said finally, hating to pull away from her. “I guess I’d better go pack.”

Tam frowned. “You pack quiet, Billy. Michael’s got the earache again and I just got him down for his nap.”

Billy tiptoed into the bedroom. Two-year-old Michael lay in the middle of the bed, a small hump covered by a red wool blanket. Billy leaned over and looked at him. The child slept curled on his stomach with his mouth open, his nose encrusted in green snot.

Billy remembered the last time they’d taken him to the clinic, sitting in a smelly waiting room crowded with other Indians. The old woman next to them had blistered her fingers on a hot skillet; the man on the other side had pneumonia. They’d waited for hours, Michael crying, pulling at his ears, then finally lying limp with fever in Tam’s arms.

“This child has chronic otitis media,” Billy remembered the young doctor had told them when their turn finally came. “If you’d put tubes in his ears, you’d solve all his problems,” the doctor had said, his voice scolding. Billy and Tam could only look at each other, their faces hot with rage and shame. They could barely afford Michael’s antibiotics. There was no way they could pay to have tubes put inside his ears. Before any more light-eyed doctors in crisp white coats could offer any more advice, they put the boy’s jacket back on him and hurried out of the clinic. The memory still brought a bitter taste to Billy’s mouth. Didn’t that doctor think he would buy Michael tubes for his ears, if he could?

“Maybe now, Big Guy.” Billy leaned over and kissed the little boy’s thick black hair. “This tracking job is gonna turn things around, I know it.” Michael smiled once in his sleep, then stuck his thumb in his mouth and snored on.

Billy unbuttoned his buckskin Indian suit and hung it in the closet, next to Tam’s old prom dress. Maybe, he thought, this job really would be some kind of turning point. The Freight Hoppers were holding a place for him, if he could ever get his fiddle back. Everybody loved their music, and they made shit pots of money. He fingered the fringe on the Indian suit and sighed. Maybe, if things went just a little right this time, he would never have to dress up in these stupid feathers again.

He pulled on a pair of old jeans and the hooded Tennessee sweatshirt Tam had given him three Christmases ago, then he carefully tugged his bedroll from beneath the bed, trying not to jiggle the mattress and disturb his son. After lacing up his field boots, he grabbed his harmonica from the dresser and reemerged to face Tam once more.

“Look, Tam, since you’ve already got your sister lined up, why don’t you and Lena Owle go on out tonight?” He walked over to the feathers and pulled two five-dollar bills from inside the headband. “Here’s what I made today. Take it down to Robbinsville and play some bingo. Maybe you can win the coverall.”

Tamara sniffed loudly. “You know I never have any luck when you’re not there.”

Billy knelt down beside the La-Z-Boy and smiled. “I bet you will tonight, though. I’ve been feeling lucky ever since that man drove up.”

“When will you be back?”

“Day after tomorrow, I reckon. Atagahi’s a day and a half away.”

“And you’ll really have a thousand dollars?”

Billy nodded. “That’s what the man said.” He leaned over and kissed her. Her breath smelled like peppermint, and the sweetness of her tongue flooded his mouth.

“I’ll miss you, honey,” he whispered.

“Me, too.”

“Gotta get going now, though.” He stood up. “Before that fella finds somebody else to take him. We got anything I can take to eat?”

“There’s the cornbread and chicken from Thursday night. I thought we’d go to the store tomorrow.”

“That’s okay,” Billy said. “It’ll be enough.” He went into the kitchen, where he wrapped some stale cornbread and a chicken leg in an old dishtowel and stuck it down the front of his shirt. Then he picked up his bedroll and walked toward the door.

“Aren’t you taking Homer with you?” Tamara asked. The dog sat by the front door, his eyes imploring Billy.

“I hadn’t thought to.”

“Oh, take him with you, Billy.” Tamara climbed out of the La-Z-Boy and put her arms around his neck. “Look at the way he’s looking at you. He’ll just keep me and Michael up all night, whining.”

“Oh, okay.” Billy smiled. “Come on, Homer.”

The dog’s tail thumped against the front door at the sound of his name. Billy kissed Tam one final time. “See you later. Go out and have some fun with Lena tonight.”

“You just come home with that thousand dollars, Billy Swimmer,” Tam said, smiling as Billy gathered Homer and his bedroll. “You find Mary Crow and come on home. And don’t you spend a dime of that money before you walk back in this house.”

“Not a chance, darlin’,” Billy said, winking at her. “Not a chance in the world.”