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me.
But it doesn t always, does it?
Son, it ain t like Hopalong Cassidy. Sometimes the good guys lose.
I SAT OUT THERE with Buster and watched the movie, but went to my room after
only one showing. I climbed into bed and thought about all that I had learned,
and thought about Buster s story. The idea of a man swinging and strangling
like that made me sick.
I lay in bed with my hands behind my head, Nub stretched out over my feet,
kicking his foot from time to time as he chased an imaginary rabbit.
I felt pretty miserable about what had happened to Callie. I liked to think my
arrival had helped stop what was going on. I should have never let her out of
my sight. Not with a guy like James Stilwind. I had an idea what kind of
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person he was, and I had spent my time looking out the window of the theater.
It was so wild the way the world and Dewmont really were. Probably all towns
were like this and most people never found out. I wished I were most people.
It was like once the lid was off the world, everything that was ugly and
secret came out.
Just a short time ago my biggest concern, my greatest disappointment, was
discovering there was no Santa Claus.
I sighed and looked at the ceiling.
Things had to get better.
They have to, I said aloud.
But fate wasn t through with me yet.
21
NEXT MORNING, after breakfast, I let Nub out. He ran to the projection booth
and started barking. I thought maybe a coon or a possum had crawled in there.
It had happened a couple of times when Buster left the door open, or so Daddy
told me.
Daddy said he had to run the critters out with a broom, chase them until they
climbed the fence and headed back into the woods.
I had yet to make such a discovery, and was about half excited to think I
might have finally done so. I was a little scared too. A coon or a possum can
turn nasty when cornered.
I picked up the poking stick we used for picking up trash, and went out there.
The door was closed. Coons and possums didn t close doors behind them.
Buster?
If it was Buster, Nub wouldn t have barked.
Still, I called Buster s name.
He didn t answer.
Nub, I said. You sure?
Nub scratched at the bottom of the door and growled. I said, Whoever is in
there, I got a gun. You better take it easy.
I started backing away, ready to get Daddy.
I heard a voice from inside. It s okay, Stanley. It s me. Don t shoot.
Richard?
Yeah. Don t get your daddy or mama.
The door cracked open, and Richard poked his head out. There was dirt crusted
on one side of his face.
Hey, he said.
Hey, I said.
You don t have a gun.
No, I said. What are you doing in the projection booth?
I climbed the fence when y all closed down. Slept in here.
Get back inside. I m coming in.
Inside, Richard said, I slept on the floor on that piece of carpet. Wasn t
too bad. Best place I ve slept in over a week.
Richard was wearing a pair of overalls, no shirt. The overalls looked as if
they had been washed in mud and dried in sin. There were bumps on his face
from mosquitoes and his nose had run and dirt was crusted on his upper lip
like a Hitler mustache. One knee of his overalls was ripped and the kneecap
that poked through it had a scab on it. He didn t have shoes on. His feet were
caked with red clay and I could see scratches on top of them and along the
ankles where he had outgrown his overalls.
Your daddy was looking for you, I said.
I know, he said.
He and my daddy had words. They had more than words.
When was this?
I told him what happened and said I was really sorry.
Don t be. I ain t been home since before that happened. It must have happened
mornin after the night I run off. He was lookin for me cause I run away and
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he wasn t through whuppin on me. He run me out in the middle of the night,
and if I hadn t been sleepin in my overalls I wouldn t be wearin nothin .
Richard turned. His back, bare except for the overall straps, showed long
crusty red marks. He got in some good licks, but I wouldn t gonna take no
more, so I took off.
I noticed there were white scars next to the red marks. I knew his father
whipped him more than I thought was right, but now I knew how bad he whipped
him.
Heavens, I said.
He took a horsewhip to me. Belt s bad enough, but when I run, he grabbed up
the whip, caught me out in the yard. It hadn t been dark, I don t know I d
have got away from him. He chased me a mile through the corn and then on out
to the woods. Said he d kill me if he caught me.
What started it?
Comic books. He said all that readin was makin me think I was better n him,
and he wasn t gonna have that.
That started it?
Yeah. Sort of. One thing led to another. I told him I thought maybe I ought
to finish high school. He wanted me to quit. Said the law wouldn t do nothin .
Not around here. They didn t care.
Richard melted onto the carpet on the floor. I sat on the projection booth
stool. I said, Where have you been all this time?
Here and there. Out in them woods. Hid in a nigger s barn outside of town.
Stole some food out of a house. Just enough to eat, mind you. Some old corn
bread was left on the stove and I got a piece a chicken out of the icebox.
Left them a thank-you note, but I didn t put my name to it.
Good grief, Richard.
Just couldn t stay home no more. Daddy told me he was gonna kill me.
Surely he didn t mean it.
Richard laughed, but he didn t sound all that amused. You got it so good you
don t know a thing about how it is. I didn t know it was any different till I
met you. Just thought that s the way it was. Beatin s and all. Mamas havin
black eyes and a swollen lip all the time . . . Stanley, think maybe you could
get me somethin to eat?
I ll get you something.
Maybe you can wrap me up a little somethin , some bread maybe. Let me have
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