On Emma's Bluff, Sara Elizabeth Rice, edited by davebccanada [buy e reader TXT] 📗

your roast beef sandwiches. Lots of mayonnaise and black pepper," he added. As she made sure to priss from the room he called after her, "and some chips."

He just sat there. His legs slightly spread; his hands clenched between them. His look took in the dark rosewood paneling of the Hutchinson's den. The house was sure a show place. Old man Hutchinson owned the butane company that serviced Sunflower County. The economy being what it was, and the constant thirst of those cylindrical tanks which graced everyone's yard, had made the Hutchinson's fairly rich. This caused Bill to think more upon the man he felt doomed to have as a father-in-law.

Bill had decided that he disliked Mr. Hutchinson. They were so flashy with their money. His mother called that crass. And Bill had often heard his own father complaining that the Hutchinson's were bilking the good citizens of Sunflower County with their high butane prices. "Well I wonder just what you would think Mr. Moneybags," Bill pondered, " if you knew I was out here porking your daughter right under your nose."

 

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" Up and out so early?" Liz called to Emma from the back yard.

"Yes ma’am," Emma returned, "Cindy and I are going to run into Yazoo City to look for some new school shoes."

"I wish you had let me know, Emma." Her aunt approached the back steps. "I would be more than happy to drive you two to Jackson for the day."

"Yeah, I mean yes ma’am, I know." Emma bit her lips feeling that she was about to be caught in a lie. "But Cindy doesn't have much money to spend."

"W-what?" Liz could see no correlation here. "I would pay for the gas, honey."

Emma had really backed herself into a corner now. "I know Aunt Liz, it's just, well, Cindy and I need to do some girl talk, you know private stuff."

" My goodness Em, you don't have to be so snotty about it." The disappointment was plain in her eyes.

"I am sorry Aunt Liz. I am not explaining this well. Please understand."

Liz nodded knowingly. "What do you think I am Emma, some old woman who wouldn't understand what it's like to be a young girl?"

"No, Aunt Liz, I guess I was just being silly."

Liz stood next to Emma pulling her hair back from her face. " You know, I think that Margaret could layer your hair just a bit and it would give it much more body."

"I love you, Aunt Liz."   It was clear that she had caught her aunt off guard with this declaration.

"I love you too, Emma." She stopped playing with Emma's hair and turned to inspect Emma's face closely. " You are not about to do anything she shouldn't be doing are you?"

"No ma’am." Emma's laugh sounded a bit nervous. "Oh and if I get a phone call tell them I will be back here by noon."   This caused Liz's brows to arch even more. And then they heard the horn blowing outside. "That's Cindy. Gotta run."

" You ready teddy." Cindy asked.

" Sure am, Sam."

"Then we are off to find the hou-ise," Cindy broke into song, "the broken down house in the woods."

 

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Roy had been in the boat since sun up. Wilson's Fish was behind in running and baiting the lines. Eddy had turned up missing, and had been missing since Wednesday. Roy had started to get worried on Friday. Eddy had never missed more than two days in the eight years he had worked for Roy. And when he had missed those time one of his youngins had always showed up with apologies and excuses for their daddy. So when no one had even come by before Friday Roy grew puzzled.

That Saturday morning he had gotten up by himself to run the lines on the river that Eddy was neglecting. Roy figured if he had not heard from Eddy by the end of the weekend he would just have to get in his truck and go out and check on him. This morning, though, Roy had his hands full with the lines.

The boat was already half full, and it looked as if there would not be enough chicken liver and shrimp to bait the rest of the lines. " I'll just do what I can," Roy muttered to himself. After the sun had come up, Roy had begun to enjoy his work. He guessed that was why he had stayed on the river all these years. At one time his mother had encouraged him to leave the delta and find another career.   She wanted someone in the family to move to the city and make it big.  

Of course, she had never had a plan about how that could come about. Money for school, back then, was out of the question. He supposed he could have gotten a job somewhere like Earl Lewis did, but then that hadn't done much for old Earl in the long run. Earl had died anyway. Roy's mother had long been dead and those dreams seemed empty to the lone man in the boat that chilly Saturday morning.

He was about to turn back for home when he decided even without bait, it would be better to go on and run the line that ran under the trestle. Better to leave the hooks empty than to let what fish were on the line get off. Roy pulled his boat up next to a piling and tied a rope around the big creosote post to keep it from drifting. He could see where the line was tied to a post just up from him. Rather than move the boat again, he took a paddle to dig into the water, hoping he would snag the line and pull it up.

The paddle was too short, so he pushed his hand and then his wrist below the water. Holding tightly to the paddle and stirring at the same time, he struck something solid with the oar. " Must be a log or a hell of a catfish," he chuckled to himself. "If I can just get my paddle under the line ...." He stretched farther over the side of the boat.   His upper arm had now entered the water. The water was icy cold and Roy's hand was numbing. He did not realize it until he tried to lift his arm that something was encircling his wrist.

Whatever it was, it was clamping steadily harder. Only mild panic seized his mind as Roy shifted his weight in the boat to get a better leverage. He tugged on the arm, but the power of what ever held him was immense. Without thinking he thrust his other hand into the water to feel his arm. Something grabbed his other wrist immediately. "Oh god, no," Roy screamed as he pulled upward.   The grip was released and Roy Wilson found himself gulping, flat on his back in the boat full of fish. He did not stop to think. He untied the rope and started the motor. Still shivering, he made his way back down the river to home.

 

 

Chapter 7

"Now this is the road that will get us there." Cindy had stopped the jeep at the end of the levee.   There was no road as far as Emma could tell. There was only a shallow slough covered in vegetation that extended into the field.

"I don't see a road." Emma stated the obvious.

"Well that's because of all of this water."   Cindy crammed the gears into low and began to walk the jeep down the side of the levee.

"I don't know if I like this."   Emma was searching for something to hold on to keep her from bouncing right out of her seat.

"Piece of cake.   Just hope there is not so much mud in that slough that we have to winch ourselves out of it."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Winch, I said."

"Slut."   This was enough said to keep them laughing right through the marsh. The jeep did not lose it's footing and they pulled up onto solid ground as they rounded the corner near the trees.

"Cindy, how did you know where Viola Grace lived?" It finally occurred to Emma to ask, since this was definitely not a beaten path.

"She used to let some of the men use the bottom floor for a deer camp every now and then. They gave her some of the venison. She didn't complain about their ‘a mans got to be a man’ antics."

"How could she survive living so far back?   Did she have a car that would get her back this far?"

"Old Viola was always a bit of a recluse and real tight lipped too. Even when she did cleaning for folk in The Bluff, she would just show up real quiet like, hardly speak at all, and then be gone before you know it."

Emma looked up to see what small path they had been traveling on had ended and all that was before them was a fairly dense stand of trees. Cindy, did not even slow down, selecting the smaller saplings, she just drove right over them. Emma turned to look out the back and saw that most just sprang right back up again after the jeep had passed over them. "Now I see why they build these things so high off the ground," Emma muttered.

The terrain was not bothering Cindy one little bit. For over thirty minutes they traveled over more wooded fields, narrow bogs, and through little impressions of gumbo, gumbo being the term used in those parts when referring to the rich, black delta mud.

Emma did not see how Cindy, or anyone else for that matter, could know if they were on the right track or not. But Cindy did not seem at all worried.

At one juncture they scared a large hoot owl out of it's perch in a rotted tree.

"Wow, that's cool" Emma said, "Think we might see any deer?"

"Making all this noise, hardly," Cindy said as she abruptly stopped the jeep. "Got ta walk the rest of the way."

"You must be joking." Emma looked around. "We can't even get through that underbrush."

"That's why we got to walk it," Cindy said as she re-laced her boots and pulled her socks high up over her pants legs. "Only about a quarter of a mile. It will be good for you."

Emma stared down at the small purse in her lap.   For some reason the question of whether or not she might need that purse seem baffling, like some incomprehensible algebra problem. She opened her door and left the purse on the seat.

As she struggled to not lose sight of Cindy's back, she noticed that Cindy had a backpack. "You got dried beef in there or something?" Emma shouted up at Cindy.

"I wouldn't laugh about it," Cindy responded back, "I got water and fig bars."

"Hot damn, I didn't know we were going on a picnic."   Emma tried to sound light as countless briars and vines hindered her progress. "Over the river and through the woods," she sang under her breath.

By the time they saw the house, Emma had mud up to her knees, cockleburs were stuck all over her, and her hands were scratched to pieces. "Here, you got a spider web in your hair," Cindy said pointing at her.

"Why thanks for telling