Chapter Four
He fully expected Mama to say something to him about the house at breakfast the next morning, because there was no chance whatsoever that she hadn’t noticed what he’d done. But she was strangely silent about everything, even dazed-looking, and if he hadn’t known better he could have sworn he saw a glint of fear in her eyes when she looked at him.
That was impossible, of course, but still, the very idea of it made him feel awkward and uncertain how he ought to speak to her, or if he should even speak to her at all. He was used to living in fear of her, but to have the shoe switched so suddenly to the other foot left him at a loss for how to behave.
So neither of them said much of anything, and Brian was relieved when the bus finally came to pick him up.
School was uneventful that day, but Adam had invited him to come to a tailgate party before the football game that night, just to hang out and have a good time for a while. Brian had never been invited to such a thing in his entire life, and he was determined to go.
He hadn’t asked Mama for permission, nor did he much care anymore whether she liked it or not. She was working the evening shift at the diner again, and Brian had hired a babysitter for Brandon. . . another thing unheard of in all the days of his life up till then. He knew Mama wouldn’t have liked that at all, if she’d known about it, but he didn’t care much about that either. There was nothing she could do about it either way.
He put it out of his mind and met Adam in the school parking lot as soon as class was out.
“Hey, Mad Dog, you ready to go?” he asked cheerfully as soon as Brian made it to the truck.
“Yeah, but where’s Patti Sue?” he asked, looking around. Normally she was stuck to Adam like super glue.
“Oh, she’s already home. Her mom came and checked her out early today so she could go to the doctor. But hurry up if you’re going, cause she’s already texted me twice wanting to know where I’m at,” Adam said.
Brian shrugged and got in the passenger seat, not really interested in Adam and Patti Sue’s love life. If she wanted to act like a clinging vine and he wanted to put up with it, then that was their business.
The party was supposed to be at Patti Sue’s place, down by the river. Her daddy raised several hundred acres of rice and soybeans down there in the flat bottomlands, and he didn’t mind if they used one of the empty fields.
Adam turned off the highway onto a rough dirt road that led way back into the soybean fields, and before long Brian spotted the orange glow of a bonfire.
“There it is, Mad Dog,” Adam said, smiling eagerly.
When they got there, Adam stepped on the gas and spun his tires in the dirt before he slid to a stop, and Brian heard several people holler and clap appreciatively.
Most of the kids were a year or two older than Brian, which made him feel both slightly uneasy and deliciously grown-up at the same time.
Several people had brought radios and coolers full of Cokes, and Patti Sue was handing out wieners and marshmallows to roast over the bonfire. Brian helped himself, and he was in the middle of roasting his second marshmallow when Adam came up behind him and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Come on, Mad Dog, let’s go get some mud on the truck,” he said.
“Sure,” Brian agreed, and climbed into Adam’s 4x4 with two other guys he didn’t know. Adam revved the engine till it sounded like it might blow up, and then let off the brake. The field was still pretty soggy from the rain a few days ago, and Adam’s big tires tore the ground to pieces and sprayed mud everywhere.
“Won’t Mr. Jackson get mad if we mess up the field like this?” Brian asked during a lull when Adam could actually hear him.
“Nah, he won’t care. Nothing grows down here anyway,” he explained.
Brian shrugged. If Adam didn’t care, then he sure didn’t.
Before long it was time to go to the game, so they doused the fire with river water and cleaned up the empty Coke cans and such. Brian rode with Adam and Patti Sue, but once they got to the game those two disappeared together and left him to fend for himself.
He didn’t mind. He just found a place to sit in the front row of the stands and cheered when there was a good play, eating hot dogs and popcorn to his heart’s content. He was sorely tempted a few times to make the ball fly just a little bit farther and help the team score a touchdown, but he didn’t meddle. It was enough to know that he could have done it if he’d wanted to.
The game was over at nine, and since Adam and Patti Sue were still nowhere to be found, Brian hitched a ride with someone else. He decided on a whim to have them drop him off at the post office instead of at home so he could walk for part of the way. He was in the mood for some solitude after so much socializing all evening, and besides, it was only about two or three miles from there to his house. He was used to walking that far.
The night breezes were cool against his skin, carrying with them the faint scent of late-blooming jasmine from somebody’s yard. He felt at peace with himself and the world, and in the mood to do a good deed if anything happened to present itself.
He came to Annie Summerford’s house before long, and on impulse he left a crisp hundred dollar bill in her mailbox. Miss Annie had once been the school librarian, but Brian knew she was old and poor now. If anybody could use some extra money, he was sure she could. Leaving that much cash left him nearly empty-handed, but that was okay, too. He had plenty more at home.
Helping Miss Annie made him feel good, and as he went on he kept an eye out for anything else he might do.
He passed the old stone gym and the little white church by the creek without seeing anything else worth doing. He removed a few smudges of gray lichen from the rocks on the gym, but that wasn’t very satisfying. He wanted something more dramatic than that.
A few stray leaves were beginning to turn yellow on the sweet gum trees, more from the heat than the season. Brian was tempted to move things up a bit and see what fall would look like in September, but he decided that might attract more curiosity than he felt like dealing with. So he left the trees alone and told himself he could always try it with the white oaks around Black Rock if he liked. He could turn them green again anytime he really wanted to, if he didn’t like it.
He crossed the bridge, and saw his Aunt Carolyn’s place sitting dark and silent on the far side of the creek. A few really determined weeds were growing up through the old cattle guard, and Brian quickly killed them for her.
A full moon was shining through the trees behind him, flooding the highway with pools of silver. Brian waded through them, following his footsteps home. On another day he might have been frustrated by the lack of opportunities to do anything meaningful for people. One would have thought there were more needy folks in the world than just one old woman. But he was feeling good that night, and it would have taken a lot to darken his mood. Maybe another day, he thought to himself.
At long last he opened the back door and went inside the house, pleasantly tired from the long walk but not really sleepy just yet. The babysitter was on the couch watching a movie, and he paid her and sent her home. Brandon was already long since in bed, and Mama wouldn’t be home till after midnight.
Brian washed the dishes, and then sat down on the big overstuffed couch in the living room to watch a movie for an hour or two until he felt like going to bed. He picked one at random, which turned out to be Predator, with Arnold Schwarzenegger. Brian liked that just fine; anything with that many guns and explosions was always reliable entertainment.
He hadn’t been watching long when he was startled by the sound of a key turning in the back door lock, and he turned around just in time to see Mama coming into the kitchen.
This was an anomaly; she shouldn’t have been home for at least two more hours yet. But before he could get up or think to say anything, she shut the door behind her and looked at him steadily.
“Brian, we need to talk,” she said, in a tone w
hich he couldn’t quite figure out. She didn’t seem angry, and certainly not drunk. Worried, maybe? Whatever it was, he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Mama put down her things and came to sit in the recliner across the coffee table from him. She seemed nervous, and she kept twisting the ring on her finger and picking at the hem of her uniform, like she didn’t know what to say.
This was so out of character that Brian had no idea what to expect. But he’d learned from long experience not to rush her, so he sat in meek silence while she gathered her thoughts, whatever they might be.
“When did you find it?” she finally asked.
“Find what, Mama?” he asked.
“Brian, don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about. The necklace,” she said.
He was momentarily shocked that she knew about the amulet, but he quickly recovered himself. It didn’t matter anymore whether she knew or not; there was nothing she could do about it anyway.
“Last week,” he answered, truthfully enough.
“What day, Brian?” she insisted urgently, and he couldn’t help wondering why it was so dadgummed important.
“Saturday. Why?” he ventured to ask. Asking Mama questions was always a risky move, but his power had made him bold. Mama ignored the question.
“Saturday, saturday. . .” she said softly, half to herself, as if thinking hard. He still had no idea what was on her mind, and found himself irritated by her foot-dragging. If she had something to say, why didn’t she just go ahead and say it?
“What all have you done with it?” she asked suddenly, looking at him intently.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean I know about all the stuff you did to the house and I know you got some money from somewhere. I don’t care about all that. I want to know what else you’ve done, if you’ve messed with anything alive or anything that belongs to somebody else,” she asked.
“Why do you need to know?” he asked. This verged on downright disrespect, and he knew it, but Brian was determined to stand his ground this time. He could see that his answer angered her, but for once she forced herself to speak calmly.
“Because you don’t know what you’re playing with, that’s why. You could cause terrible things to happen and not even realize it, Brian,” she explained.
“What kinds of things? And why does it matter how long it’s been?” he asked.
“Because it only works for seven days, that’s why, and if you found it last Saturday then tomorrow at midnight is the end of it all. There’s no way to fix anything stupid you already did, but there’s still the next twenty-four hours to think about. I don’t want you to make any more mistakes between now and then,” she said. That sounded more like the old Mama; insulting and high-handed as usual. Still, Brian could tell she was making a real effort to bite her tongue and talk to him reasonably. And somehow that scared him more than any harsh words she might have used, because it meant she was deadly serious about whatever she said.
He was gripped by a sudden terrible fear that she might be telling the truth, and he had to swallow hard to keep his calm. The thought of losing his power was horrible to even imagine, especially when the idea was sprung on him so suddenly that way, and when the deadline was so near. Tomorrow! He could never finish everything he’d wanted to do by then, not even close.
It might be a lie, of course; but even the possibility was enough to make his throat dry and his chest tight.
“How do you know?” he asked. It came out almost as a whisper, and Mama noticed his fear. She smiled a bitter smile.
“Did you bother to read the thing before you went off on your little spree? No? I didn’t think so. Stupid boy,” she muttered under her breath, and Brian felt hot blood rising to his cheeks. She seemed to have a supernatural talent for making him feel like a complete fool.
“No, I couldn’t read it. The writing was too small,” he said, surly now.
“Uh-huh. Never heard of a magnifying glass? Even an idiot would have known that much,” she said, scornfully.
Brian had had about as much of her attitude as he could take. He looked up at her with smoldering eyes that held more than a little hatred, and when he spoke there was ice in his voice.
“What difference does it make to you if I do something stupid or not? You never cared about me or anything I ever did anyway,” he blurted. A week ago he would never have dared to say such a thing to her, and perhaps if she hadn’t been speaking to him that way he wouldn’t have said it now. But as it was, the cold and bitter words spilled out before he could think to hold them back.
That silenced her, but Brian took no pleasure in it. The accusation left a bad taste in his mouth, and he was almost immediately sorry he’d said it. The words might be true, but that was no excuse. Truth which is spoken without love can be cruel as a punch in the gut. Didn’t he know it all too well himself? He could see clearly that his words had stung, but hurting her only made him feel worse.
“I do love y’all, whether you believe that or not,” she finally told him. Those were never cheap words from his mother, and he knew he must have cut her deep to make her say them now. There were even tears in her eyes, shocking as that was. Brian didn’t have the faintest idea what to say to her. So he said nothing at all, taking refuge in silence as he’d done so many times before.
But the hurt didn’t last very long, and his silence seemed to infuriate her.
“Go on, then, rockhead. Don’t listen! You’ll find out soon enough what happens, and then we’ll see how much damage you’ve done!” she screamed, and then proceeded to curse him with every foul name she could think of and then some.
Brian didn’t wait to hear more. He got up from the couch and left the room without another word, and Mama let him go.
He couldn’t have gone to sleep just then if his life depended on it, not till he calmed down a bit, so he left the house through the back door and slammed it behind him, not caring if it angered his mother. In fact he hoped it did.
The full moon gave plenty of light to see by, and after a moment’s thought Brian set out across the pasture toward Black Rock, not caring how late it was. He needed some time alone, and that was one place he knew he could get it. He couldn’t decide how he felt, except that it wasn’t good. He wanted to hit something and he wanted to cry while he did it, and what kind of a messed up mood was that?
Nothing disturbed him until he emerged onto the flat surface of the Rock, where he took a seat at the foot of one of his perfect white oak trees. He was a little calmer by then, and the peace and beauty of his sanctuary soon lulled him yet further. The soft breeze in the oak leaves and the quiet gurgle of the creek flowing over stones were sweet balm for his jangled nerves, just as he knew they would be.
He pensively tossed a few pebbles over the edge of the Rock into the swimming hole, lost in thought. Mama had given him a lot to think about, even if he wasn’t sure how much of it to believe.
Now and then his fingers chanced across a larger rock nestled among the tree roots, and these he threw hard and fast across the little gorge until they smacked with a satisfying thwock into the old sweet gum tree on the far bank. Its trunk was gnarled and deformed by a thousand previous impacts, silent proof that it had been used as a rock tree since long before Brian’s time. He hadn’t used the amulet to fix it; it was too much of a landmark.
He wasn’t sure who the last stone-thrower at Black Rock might have been, but he could still see the faded craters whoever-it-was had left behind. The only clue he’d ever found was the name Jack, carved with a pocketknife into the trunk. Who Jack might have been was anybody’s guess.
Brian couldn’t remember anyone ever teaching him how to throw. It just seemed like he always knew how. He seldom missed the mark anymore when he chose to try, so the exercise hardly occupied his mind.
He soon decided that, whatever else she might have said, Mama had a go
od point about reading the words on the amulet. He really should have done that to start with, if he hadn’t gotten so caught up in the excitement of the whole thing. It galled him to admit that she might actually be right about something, but there it was.
All he could do was wait till morning and see if he could find a magnifying glass somewhere. There wasn’t one in the house, as far as he could remember. He guessed he’d probably have to get a ride to Wal-Mart and buy one.
That was one thing decided, at least. As for the rest of it, about losing his power after seven days and all that. . . well, he’d know one way or the other soon enough. There was nothing he could do about it either way. If Saturday came and went with nothing happening then he’d have proof that she was a liar and he’d never have to believe her again.
On the other hand, even if he did lose his power, there wasn’t much he could think of that still needed doing. He had plenty of money now from the gold, and it wouldn’t take long to beef up his nugget stash a bit. Other than that, he’d already done everything he cared the most about doing, if it came right down to it.
There was still the problem of dealing with Mama with no amulet to back him up, but Brian was a lot less scared of her than he’d been before. If the amulet had done nothing else for him, it had at least given him a healthy dose of courage.
He wondered if the seven blue gems on the front of the amulet had anything to do with the seven days Mama was talking about, and then decided it didn’t matter.
As he mulled all this over, Brian began to feel the first twinges of sleepiness gnawing at the edges of his mind, and he decided to take a dip in the swimming hole to clear his head.
He stripped down to his underwear and took a running dive off the Rock into the deep pool below it, making a huge splash when he hit the water. The creek was clear as crystal, and he could see the bottom even by moonlight. In fact that was almost what it seemed like. . . swimming in a tank full of liquid moonlight. He liked the image, and when his head popped back up above the surface he shook it to scatter droplets of water out of his hair like a dog. He swam back and forth for a while, and then floated on his back with his fingers laced behind his head to keep his ears above water.
The night was warm and tranquil, and he felt no inclination to go home just yet. So in the meantime, he wished the stars a little brighter and the song of the crickets a little sweeter, and drank in as much of the peace of the place as he could.
After a while, his spirit calmed and refreshed, he climbed out of the pool and used the amulet to dry himself off before he put his clothes back on. He’d certainly miss little things like that if he lost his power, he thought to himself. But he was calm enough now that the thought only made him smile.
When he finished dressing, he made his way back home through the woods and across the pasture.
The house was dark when he got there, and he supposed Mama must have gone to bed already. Just as well; he didn’t feel like talking to her anymore at the moment, not even to say goodnight. He tiptoed upstairs as quietly as he’d ever done in the bad old days, to lie down beside Brandon and hope for a better day in the morning.
He was very careful to wear a tight t-shirt that night, and to tuck the amulet firmly inside it so that no one could sneak in and take it from him while he slept.
That done, he prayed for everything to work out as it should, and then closed his eyes.