Tales From the Darkside Part 3

Reverend Peabody blinked and opened his mouth, but no words come out.

"What's the matter?" Grandpa said. "Cat got your tongue?"

The Reverend got a kind of sick grin on his face, like a skunk eating b.u.mblebees.

"Reckon I know how you feel," Grandpa told him. "Sun makes a feller's throat parch up." He looked at Ma. "Addie, whyn't you go fetch the Reverend a little refreshment?"

Ma went in the house.

"Well, now, Rev," said Grandpa. "Rest your britches and be sociable."

The Reverend swallowed hard. "This here's not exactly a social call."

"Then what you come dragging all the way over here for?"

The Reverend swallowed again. "After what Addie and Doc told me, I just had to see for myself." He looked at the flies buzzing around Grandpa. "Now I wish I'd just took their word on it."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning a man in your condition's got no right to be asking questions.

When the good Lord calls, you're supposed to answer."

"I ain't heard n.o.body calling," Grandpa said. " *Course, my hearing's not what it used to be."

"So Doc says. That's why do don't notice your heart's not beating."

"Onny natural for it to slow down a piece. I'm pus.h.i.+ng ninety."

"Did you ever stop to think that ninety might be pus.h.i.+ng back? You lived a mighty long stretch, Grandpa.

Don't you reckon mebbe it's time to lie down and call it quits? Remember what the Good Book saysa"the Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away."

Grandpa got that feisty look on his face. "Well, he ain't gonna taketh away me."

Reverend Peabody dug into his jeans for a bandana and wiped his forehead. "You got no cause to fear.

It's a mighty rewarding experience. No more sorrow, no more care, all your burdens laid to rest. Not to mention getting out of this hot sun."

"Can't hardly feel it." Grandpa touched his whiskers.

"Can't hardly feel anything."

The Reverend give him a look. "Hands getting stiff?"

Grandpa nodded. "I'm still all over."

"Just like I thought. You know what that means? Rigor mortis is setting in."

"Ain't never heard tell of anybody named Rigger Morris,"

Grandpa said. "I got me a tough of the rheumatism, is all."

The Reverend wiped his forehead again. "You sure want a heap of convincing," he said. "Won't take the word of a medical doctor, won't take the word of the Lord. You're the con trariest old coot I ever did see."

"Reckon it's my nature," Grandpa told him. "But I ain't unreasonable.

All I'm asking for is proof. Like the feller says, I'm from Missouri.

You got to show me."

The Reverend tucked away his bandana. It was sopping wet anyhow, wouldn't do him a lick of good.

He heaved a big sigh and stared Grandpa right in the eye.

"Some things we just got to take on faith," he said.

"Like you setting here when by rights you should be six feet under the daisies. If I can believe that, why can't you believe me? I'm telling you the mortal truth when I say you got no call to fuss. Mebbe the notion of lying in the grave don't rightly hold much appeal for you.

Well, I can go along with that. But one thing's for sure. Ashes to ashes, dust to dusta"that's just a saying. You needn't trouble yourself about spending eternity in the grave. Whilst your remains rest peaceful in the boneyard, your soul is on the wing. Flying straight up, yessiree, straight into the arms of the Lord! And what a great day it's fixing to bea"you free as a bird and scooting around with them heavenly hosts on high, singing the praises of the Almighty and tw.a.n.ging away like all git-out on your genuine eighteen carats solid golden harpa""

"I ain't never been much for music," Grandpa said. "And I get dizzy just standing on a ladder to s.h.i.+ngle the privy." He shook his head. "Tell you whata"you think heaven is such a h.e.l.lfired good proposition, why don't you go there yourself?"

Just then Ma come back out. "We're fresh out of lemon made," she said.

"All's I could find was a jug. I know your feelings about such things, Reverend, buta""

"Praise the Lord!" The Reverend s.n.a.t.c.hed the jug out of her hand, hefted it up, and took a mighty swallow.

"You're a good woman," he told Ma. "And I'm mush beholden to you." Then he started down the path for the road, moving fast.

"Here, now!" Ma called after him. "What you aim to do about Grandpa?"

"Have no fear," the Reverend said. "We must put our trust now in the power of prayer."

He disappeared down the road, stirring dust.

"Danged if he didn't take the jug!" Grandpa mumbled.

"You ask me, the onny power he trusts is in that corn likker."

Ma give him a look. Then she bust out crying and run into the house.

"Now, what got into her?" Grandpa said.

"Never you mind," I told him. "Susie, you stay here and whisk those flies off Grandpa. I got things to attend to."

And I did.

Even before I went inside I had my mind set. I couldn't hold still to see Ma bawling that way. She was standing in the kitchen hanging on to Pa, saying, "What can we do? What can we do?"

Pa patted her shoulder. There now, Addie, don't you go carrying on. It can't last forever."

"Nor can we," Ma said. "If Grandpa don't come to his senses, one of these mornings we'll go downstairs and serve up breakfast to a skeleton. And what do you think the neighbors will say when they see a bag of bones setting out there on my nice front porch? It's plumb embarra.s.sing, that's what it is!"

"Never you mind, Ma, " I said. "I got an idea."

Ma stopped crying. "What kind of idea?"

"I'm fixing to take me a hike over to Spooky Hollow."

"Spooky Hollow?" Ma turned so pale you couldn't even see her freckles.

"Oh, no, boya""

"Help is where you find it, " I said. "And I reckon we got no choice."

Pa took a deep breath. "Ain't you afeard?"

"Not in daylight," I told him. "Now don't you fret. I'll be back afore dark."

Then I scooted out the back door.

I went over the fence and hightailed it along the back forty to the crick, stopping just long enough to dig up my piggy bank from where it was stashed in the weeds alongside the rocks. After that I waded across the water and headed for tall timber.

Once I got into the piney woods I slowed down a smidge to get my bearings. Weren't no path to follow, because n.o.body never made one. Folks tended to stay clear of there, even in daytimea"it was just too dark and too lonesome. Never saw no small critters in the brush, and even the birds kep' shut of this place.

But I knowed where to go. All's I had to do was top the ridge, then move straight on down. Right smack at the bottom, in the deepest, darkest, lonesomest spot of all, was Spooky Hollow.

In Spooky Hollow was the cave.

And in the cave was the Conjure Lady.

Leastwise I reckoned she was there. But when I come tip py-toeing down to the big black hole in the rocks I didn't see a mortal soul, just the shadows bunching up on me form all around.

It sure was spooky, and no mistake. I tried not to pay any heed to the way my feet was itching. They wanted to turn and run, but I wasn't about to be put off.

After a bit I started to sing out. "Anybody home? You got company."

"Who?"

"It's mea"Jody Tolliver."

"Whooo?"

I was wrong about the birds, because now when I looked up I could see the big screech owl glaring at me from a branch over yonder near the cave.

And when I looked down again, there she wasa"the Conjure Lady, peeking out at me from the hole between the rocks.

It was the first time I ever laid eyes on her, but it couldn't be no one else. She was a teensy rail-thin chicka biddy in a linsey-woolsey dress, and the face under her poke bonnet was black as a lump of coal.

Shucks, I says to myself, there ain't nothing to be afeard ofa"she's just a little ol' lady, is all.

Then she stared up at me and I saw her eyes. They was lots bigger than the screech owl's, and twice as glarey.

My feed begun to itch something fierce, but I stared back.

"Howdy, Conjure Lady," I said.

"Whoooo?" said the screech owl.

"It's young Tolliver," the Conjure Lady told him. "What's the matter, you got wax in your ears? Now go on about your business, you hear?"

The screech owl give her a dirty look and took off. Then the Conjure Lady come out into the open.

"Pay no heed to Ambrose," she said. "He ain't rightly used to company.

All's he ever sees is me and the bats."

"What bats?"

"The bats in the cave." The Conjure Lady smoothed down her dress. "I beg your pardon for not asking you in, but the place is purely a mess. Been meaning to tidy it up, but what with one thing and anothera"first that dadblamed World War and then this dadgummed Prohibitiona"I just ain't got *round to it yet."

"Never you mind," I said, polite-like. "I come on business."

"Reckoned you did."

"Brought you a pretty, too," I give it to her.

"What is it?"

"My piggy bank."

"Thank you kindly," said the Conjure Lady.

"Go ahead, bust it open," I told her.

She whammed it down on a rock and the piggy bank broke, spilling out money all over the place. She scrabbled it up right quick.

"Been putting aside my cash earnings for night onto two years now," I said "How much is they?"

"Eighty-seven cents, a Confederate two-bits piece, and this here b.u.t.ton." She kind of grinned. "Sure is a purty one, too! What's it say on there?"

"Keep Cool With Coolidge."

"Well, ain't that a caution." The Conjure Lady slid the money into her pocket and pinned the b.u.t.ton atop her dress.

"Now, sona"purty is as purty does, like the saying goes. So what can I do for you?"