Jincy and I are paying Beckwith little attention and I walk into the house and lower the wall while Jincy waits with Renoir.
“You keep him inside?” Beckwith asks as Jincy walks the animal over the wall.
Beckwith is standing outside and I say goodnight and pull up the wall.
The next night, I stepped out into the backyard and found Django gone. He had been untied. I ran up to my room and yelled at Martin, “Why did you untie the dog?!”
“I didn't.”
I believed him and I ran back outside. “Djanjo!” I called. “Django!”
Then Martin stepped outside. “You'd better find him before bang! bang!” He held his hands up like he was holding a rifle.
“Django!” I walked next door into Mr. Simpson's yard. The dog wasn't there. At least he wasn't in Mr. Simpson's garden. He wasn't to be found about the neighborhood. Finally I was at the pond and Django was in it. “Come here,” I called. But the dog wouldn't come. I sat on the grass for a time while Django swam around. The moon was full, offering some light. Then I stepped into the pond after the dog. The water was almost to my chest. I pulled the dog out. I don't know what came over me, but I took a shortcut through Mr. Simpson's backyard. Mr. Simpson's kitchen light came on and I fell to the ground. I held Django's mouth closed. Someone stepped up to the screen door and then moved away. The light went off and I ran the rest of the way. I tied Django up and walked into the house.
“You're wet,” Daddy said, standing in the kitchen with a glass of iced tea in his hand.
“I had to go into the pond for Django.”
He sipped his tea and pulled back the curtain to look into the yard. “Your mother's coming right along.” He sipped his tea. “She might just do it.” He looked at me. “Why don't you get cleaned up?”
“Daddy, why are you running with Ma?”
“Let's say I don't want her to run alone.”
The next morning Jincy and Renoir are behind me and we're walking through the woods. The sun is up and bright.
“Shake that salty bacon,” Jincy says.
And I look back. “What are you saying?”
“I said, shake that salty bacon.” And she points at my backside.
I get real embarrassed and stop. “You walk in front of me.”
“Why? I like watching it.”
“Just go on.”
Jincy walks on in front of me and I'm watching the sky and thinking about flying.
“You still gonna fly?” Jincy asks without looking back.
“Yeah.”
“I don't think you should. I don't want you to.”
I don't say anything.
“Why?”
“I want to be free,” I tell her.
“Free?”
“Uh-huh.”
We walk on in silence and when we get near the lake Jincy drops to her hands and knees and starts raking at the ground with her fingers.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Digging worms,” she says, not stopping.
“Why?”
Still digging: “For you to eat. You want to be free, don't you?”
I stand over her for a minute and then I'm on my knees, helping her.
She hands me a worm. “Eat it.”
I take it and I tilt my head back and let it slide down my throat and it wiggles as it goes down. Jincy is smiling and crying at the same time. I pull her to me and hug her and she cries harder.
Naomi and I were sitting beneath the big tree in the old school yard. It was muggy and there were bad-looking storm clouds in the distance. Across the yard, sitting under a basketball goal, was Virgil Wallace. Virgil was pulling on himself.
“Look at that waterhead over there.” Naomi pointed at Virgil. “What's he doing?”
“He's-” I didn't know if I should tell her.
“What?”
“He's pulling on himself.” She had a questioning expression. “You know.” I moved my hand up and down over my middle.
She giggled. Then she looked up into the tree. “I saw your mother and father last night.”
I didn't say anything.
“They were running. Is your daddy going crazy, too?”
“No,” I snapped. I knew what question was coming. “He's just trying to help Ma.”
“What's all the running for?”
“My mother wants to run around Fayetteville.”
Naomi laughed.
“It's not funny!” I shouted. “Why are you laughing? Your daddy uses caskets over and over again and cuts off dead people's hair.”
She stopped laughing. “He does not.”
“He does. I found dirt on his caskets.”
Naomi was silent. She looked down at her knees. “He does not,” she said softly.
“I'm sorry.”
She looked at me. “Do you like me?”
“I told you, yes.”
“I like you, too.” And she reached for my hand and grabbed my little finger and bent it back. It hurt. “Take it back,” she said, applying pressure. “Say it isn't so. Say my daddy doesn't do that.”
“Okay, okay,” I said. I was in a great deal of pain. “He doesn't use caskets over.”
“Or cut off dead people's hair?”
“Or cut off dead people's hair.”
She gave my finger one last twist and I fell over, my head landing in her lap. I was looking up at her. She lowered her head and placed her lips against mine. My eyes were wide open and I could see her closed eyes and her smooth skin. Her tongue was darting in and out of my mouth. I didn't kiss backâI didn't know howâbut I didn't resist. Then a shadow fell over my face. I thought it might be clouds, but there was something odd. So, I pushed Naomi's face away and I looked up and saw Virgil Wallace. He was standing over us, his penis in his hand. Naomi screamed and she fell back against the tree when she tried to get up. I got up and pulled her into standing. We ran.
Even with the three baths a day that Renoir gets from Jincy, the cabin smells. Renoir ain't house-trained and I decide to go into town for some newspapers. There are several newspaper-vending machines in Parkdale and I start off at one end of town emptying all the papers into the truck. Then at the fourth machine I put my dime in and I look beside me and there's skinny Sheriff Prager. I open the machine and pull out one paper and smile at him.
“Howdy,” he says.
“Hey.”
“Nice day.” He's looking up at the sunny sky.
“Uh-huh.”
“How're things?” He pushes his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“Just fine, just fine.”
“Sure is nice weather.”
“Sure is.”
“I know I asked you before, but have you seen a little girl?”
“No.”
“Tell me, what do you do with yourself up there?”
“I walk and relax and pretty soon I'm going to fly off Willet Rock.”
He's silent for a second and then he laughs and slaps my back. “You're all right,” he says and starts away and then he stops. “You seen anything like an elephant up there?”
“Elephant?”
“Never mind.” He pauses. “Fly off Willet Rock”-he laughsâ“that's rich.” He walks away.
I put another dime in the machine and take the rest of the papers.
Chapter 21
So, I'm putting newspaper on the floor on Renoir's side of the cabin and Jincy is helping me. I notice a story on an inside page. The headline reads:
MANAGER
DIES
ON
RURAL
ROAD
. The story says that Lou Tyler died after being hit by a car and there's a quote from the driver of the car that hit him: “I didn't see him until it was too late. I came around the curve and there he was, holding that dog in his arms.” I fall from my knees to my butt and sit silently.
“What's wrong?” Jincy asks.
“Nothing.”
Jincy looks at the paper in front of me. “Lou Tyler,” she says. “Ain't that the guy whoâ”
I nod.
“He was weird.”
I'm still silent.
“Are you going to leave here?” she asks.
I look at her. “Did your mother hate you?”
“Why?”
“Just wondering.”
Jincy stands and starts putting wood into the stove and she's looking back at me through her yellow hair. “I love you.”
And there's this long silence and I'm looking at her and then I start spreading the papers again. She cooks lunch. Bacon and eggs.
Ma tried to run around the town again. This time she made it about halfway. Daddy was with her and I don't think he could have run much farther either. I was behind them, riding my bicycle. They just stopped. Ma bent over and rested her hands on her knees. Daddy's hands were on his hips and he was breathing hard. Then McCoy drove by, out of the blue. So much for the morning.
Daddy was annoyed greatly by the morning's failure. He said that more practice was needed. Instead of coffee, he had iced tea at breakfast and then he went to his office. Martin left the table and it was just Ma and me.
“Almost,” I said. Bud started playing the piano in the other room.
Ma nodded. “You're a good boy, Craigie.” She looked past me, through the screen door. “Like your daddy.”
I liked that she had said that. “I love you, Ma.”
She seemed not to hear me and then she looked at me and tilted her head. She smiled. “Love,” she said. She laughed.
I didn't know what to make of her. It didn't seem as though she was laughing at me. I giggled nervously.
Ma stopped and stared at me. “What are you laughing at?”
I didn't know what to say. I became very frightened. I pushed against the back of my chair.
Ma leaned forward, putting her arms on the table. “What is love?” she asked.
I shrugged my shoulders.
She shrugged her shoulders, too, and laughed loudly. She kept on shrugging her shoulders and laughing. She didn't notice when I got up and walked out.
Birds have got really flexible necks. A bird can touch any part of his body with his beak, and so I'm doing neck exercises. I'm touching my nose to my knees and I'm pulling my feet to my face and I'm rubbing my nose on my shoulder, but it's clear that there are spots I will never touch. Perhaps with a lot of exercise I will be able to touch my nose to my pecker. That's my goal.
Birds have got really high body temperatures. The only way I can figure to raise my temperature is by running a fever. So, I'm trying to catch a cold. The nights are chilly, so I try sleeping naked without a fire and with the wall down. Jincy's all bundled up in blankets. It doesn't work. All I get is a sore back.
“The water ain't cold enough,” Jincy says.
I'm in the lake, Ezra Pond, splashing around early in the morning. “It's cold,” I tell her and I duck down under the water and come back up.
“Not cold enough.” She's at the edge, shaking her hand in the water. “You can't catch a cold in this. Go out some more.”
I swim on out a ways and the water is a little cooler. Renoir leaves Jincy's side and steps into the lake and he takes to rolling over and shooting water out of his nose.
“Look!” Jincy is pointing up.
I look up in time to see the osprey pulling his wings in to dive and he's diving at me. I figure he thinks I'm an extraordinary catch and I duck down under the water. He hits the water and heads up and I make my way quickly out of the water. We're walking back to the cabin.
“I don't think it worked,” Jincy says. She's behind me.
I'm naked, cold, and wet. “Give it a chance,” I says. “A cold wouldn't show up right away.”
“Shake that salty bacon.” She's looking at my bare butt.
I stop. “Go on.”
“What?”
“Walk in front of me.”
“Gosh,” she says and walks on. “I like looking at it.”
As we're walking I begin to think about wings. I'll need wings to fly, but what to make them out of and how? I decide to collect feathers, and it's unfortunate, but feathers only come from birds. So, when we're back at the cabin I sit down at the table and start sketching my wings. Jincy's on the other side of the cabin giving Renoir his morning bath.
“Are you hungry?” Jincy asks, dipping the rag into the bucket of soapy water.
“I'll get some wood,” I says and get up. I slip into my trousers and step outside. My arms are full of wood and I'm standing up and I feel something poking me in the back. I look over my shoulder and it's Sid Willis.
“Hello, Craig,” Sid says.
I don't say anything.
“I want my money.” He pushes the barrel of the pistol into my back. “In the house.”
I open the door and step in and Sid is behind me and when he sees the elephant he stops dead in his tracks. Jincy stands up and takes a couple of steps back. I drop the wood and Sid doesn't move. Sid's eyes are locked on Renoir and he doesn't notice me as I take the gun from him.
“Who is he?” Jincy asks once I've got the gun.
“He's crazy,” I tell her. “He wants to kill me.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Tie him up.” I grab a length of rope and tie his hands behind his back. I walk Sid over to a chair near the stove and sit him down and his eyes are still locked on Renoir.
“Now what?” Jincy asks.
“I don't know.” I look at her. “I don't know.” I'm tying Sid to the chair. “We just keep him tied up.”
Sid is still looking at Renoir. Then he snaps to and finds himself tied up and struggles with the ropes. “What is this?” He tries to stand up and the chair comes with him. “What's that?” He points at Renoir with his head.
“That's an elephant,” I says.
“Why?”
I'm puzzled and I'm looking at Renoir. “âCause he ain't a dog.”
“Untie me.” Sid sees Jincy. “Who's she?”
“This is Jincy.”
“Untie me.”
“I can't do that, Sid.”
“I just want my money.”