The Cottoncrest Curse: A Novel

Chapter 26

89 Chapter 26 “There they are, Tee Ray. See, I told you.” Tee Ray and Bucky had sidled around through the back door. The fields far behind the barn were now masked by the smoke, and if the wind shifted again, the soot-filled dark mass might even roll toward the house. They were now standing over the boards that held the bodies, the sheets still in place, the cloth-covered bucket with Rebecca’s head placed near her feet. Tee Ray pulled back the white linen that covered the Colonel Judge. Flies buzzed around the body. Maggots were squirming in the nostrils. They had closed the doors behind them, and the stale air inside was warm and heavy, the stench from rotting flesh filling the barn. “Bucky, you got gimp to bring me here, I give you that.” Bucky pulled himself up a little taller. To have Tee Ray compliment him on his courage made him proud. “Why don’t you go keep an eye out. I just want to have a look-see. I think I’m entitled to that.” Bucky knew that if anyone was entitled to gaze upon the Colonel Judge one last time, it was Tee Ray. Bucky promptly went over to the door and peered through the slats where the wood had warped. He could see the big house a few hundred yards away and, north of that, paralleling the river, the fields where the fires would eventually reach. As soon as Bucky’s attention was directed outside, Tee Ray leaned over and stared hard at the lifeless man’s face. No regal bearing now. No disdain for those he had treated as his lessers. As unworthies. No clever remarks to amuse those who came to his once-lavish parties. No more public embarrassment for those he refused to invite. No care- 90 ful turns of phrases, all learned and full of fancy words, to confuse and confound. He was just another mass of dead flesh starting to putrefy, smelling so bad that even lavender water wouldn’t mask the stench. Whatever soul he once had was long gone. Whatever fortune he once amassed was now for others to take. Tee Ray gathered a mouthful of spit and let it drop on the Colonel Judge’s cheek, the dampness making the maggots curl up. Serves him right. Dead was what the Colonel Judge should be. Just like his brothers were dead. Just like his father was dead. Just like Tee Ray’s mother was dead. Tee Ray then went over to Rebecca and lifted up the sheet. This was curious. Her body was face down on the wooden slab, or it would have been face down had she still had a face. Her dress had been cut open, revealing the soft curves of her pale, white back. The bloody, sliced fabric had stiffened, like the body. They were all equal now. The Colonel Judge and his wife were no better than Tee Ray’s mother. No better than Tee Ray’s father. No better than Tee Ray. Bucky gasped. Tee Ray looked up and dropped the sheet, whispering . “What is it?” Bucky, as quietly as he could, approached the bodies. “It’s one of them darkies. He’s got a length of rope in his hands. And he’s comin’ our way.” “Perfect! We’re gonna catch a nigger who’s up to no good. Come on, Bucky. Up here.” Tee Ray scampered up the ladder to the hayloft, followed by Bucky. They moved to the back, under the low eaves, and waited. The sound of footsteps scuffling along could be heard coming closer and closer. The front barn door opened, its hinges creaking, and fresh air cascaded in. They heard boots treading closer, stopping under the ladder next to the bodies. They heard the rustling of sheets being moved and of a man’s heavy breathing. The man coughed; it was a deep raspy sound, like a dangerous creature far back in a hollow cave. He cleared his throat and continued moving the sheets. Bucky cautiously dug into the hay, trying to get down to the loft’s floor boards, trying to look through the knotholes and cracks. He could see the man’s huge hands and what he was doing but not the man’s 91 face. All he caught were glimpses of a back of a muscular coal...