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I wanted more than anything to ask him what his bad memories were, but I could see by his face that he didn't want to talk anymore, so I just sat there watching him whittle. After several minutes of silence, I got up and brushed the dried gra.s.s from my backside. "Guess I'll see you later."
Jeb reached his dirty hand out and handed me the bird call.
"Want me to keep it for you till you're done workin'?" I asked.
"Want you to keep it for good."
"Keep it? I thought you were makin' it for yourself 'cause you like birds."
"I'll make another one."
I studied it for a minute before asking, "You sure?"
"I'm sure." Then he walked off without another word, grabbing his gloves on his way.
I called after him, "Thank you!" but he kept walking without turning around.
Those were the kinds of things Jeb did all the time, I would find. He liked helping people, but he didn't like getting attention for it. So I'd always just accept his kindness, give him a quiet thank-you, and leave.
I especially enjoyed my visits with Jeb because we didn't have many visitors anymore, and life on the farm was getting good and boring. Daddy told us it would last for only a little while longer. He thought once some time had pa.s.sed, people would get used to us having Gemma, and life would get easier. But from what I'd seen recently, it seemed that hard hearts had long memories.
For the first time in my life, I wasn't so sure my daddy was right.
Luke didn't trust Jeb from the start, I could tell. After our trouble with the Klan, he started hanging around our house every day after work, and he'd watch Jeb from the porch with a suspicious eye.
"What you got against Jeb?" I asked him one day.
"Ain't got nothin' against him."
I hopped onto the porch rail and tucked my knees under my chin. "You're lyin'. You watch him like Duke watches a squirrel."
"You imagine things," Luke told me around the piece of tall gra.s.s he was chewing thoughtfully, but his eyes never left Jeb.
"Then how come you can't look at me instead of Jeb?"
He just kept rocking in his chair, stewing.
"I said why can't you stop watchin' Jeb? You listenin' to me?"
Luke stopped rocking, pulled the gra.s.s from his mouth, and looked at me with extra-wide eyes. "There! I'm lookin' at you. You happy now?"
I rolled my eyes and hopped down from the rail.
"Where you goin'?" Luke asked as I walked down the steps.
"To talk to Jeb."
"What for?"
"'Cause I like him, that's what for. What're you so worked up about?" I asked wryly, my eyes squinted to avoid the late afternoon sun. "You ain't got nothin' against him, remember?"
Luke sighed loudly enough for the neighbors to hear and got out of the rickety rocking chair so hard it slid back against the house.
"Where you goin'?" I asked.
"With you."
"I ain't goin' into town or nothin'. I'm just walkin' over to the meadow."
"So?"
"So you don't need to follow me everywhere." I watched as his mouth curved down into a frown, and I hoped my argument didn't really change his mind. I may have talked like he was being ridiculous, but I wanted him to come with me all the same. I wanted him going everywhere with me.
To my pleasure, he threw the piece of gra.s.s to the ground and said, "Ain't no law against a man walkin' through meadows, is there?"
I shrugged like I didn't care, but there was a mile-wide smile on my face when I turned back around.
Jeb was busy sharpening some tools when we came upon him, but he stopped and looked up at us. "Hey there, Miss Jessilyn. . . . Talley," he said to Luke with a nod. "Doin' fine?"
"Gettin' by," Luke replied curtly.
"I'm doin' just fine too," I said quickly to talk over Luke's harsh tone. "You look hot there, Jeb. You need some lemonade or somethin'?"
"Naw, I done got me a big old jug of water over there by the shed. That'll do me just fine."
Luke sauntered around the shed, studying the area like a detective, taking time now and again to peer sideways at Jeb.
Jeb watched him for a minute until I asked him, "Ain't you 'bout done with work today? It's gettin' late."
"I wanted to get these tools taken care of tonight so I can use them in the mornin'. Like to get started right off tomorrow." He wiped his hands on an old rag and then wiped his forehead with it too. "Guess I'm through now."
I glanced over my shoulder as a shadow came up behind me and saw Luke strutting toward us with his hands on his hips. "You been rummagin' in that shed there?" he asked Jeb.
"Just gettin' out the tools I needed to work on."
"Uh-huh." Luke eyed those tools and kept nodding methodically. "You know anythin' about that hole under the shed, Jeb?"
"Hole?" I asked. "What hole?"
"There's a big ol' hole there," he said, pointing toward the far end of the shed.
I went over and stuck my right foot down into it, wiggling my toes around. "Must've been Duke lookin' for somethin' again."
"Don't know," Luke said. "Maybe a person's been diggin' there."
"Diggin' for what?" I spluttered. "Last I heard we ain't got treasure buried on La.s.siter property."
"I ain't talkin' treasure. Maybe someone dug there to get into the shed. Your daddy locks it every evenin', you know."
I shoved my foot in as deep as it could go. "Luke, you know any midgets in these here parts that want to go breakin' into people's toolsheds? I can only just get my whole foot in that hole."
"You got big feet," Luke said. "Everyone knows that."
"They ain't big as a person," I shouted, pulling my foot from the hole. "You ain't got to tease me about my feet, anyhow. You can tease me about most things, but you ain't got call to tease me about my big feet or my freckles, you hear?"
"I don't think you got big feet, Miss Jessilyn," Jeb said. "They fit you just fine."
I bit my bottom lip and stared at Luke before saying, "Thank you, Jeb. Least someone round here knows how to say polite things to girls."
"I wasn't settin' out to tease you," Luke said without much sincerity. "I was tryin' to figure out why that hole's there." He came over to me and peered into the hole again. "Maybe someone's been tryin' to bury somethin' there."
"Like Duke," I said. "Dogs do things like that, ya know."
"Y'all never tie him up over here," he argued.
"We let him run around free durin' the day, Luke. He ain't never tied up till night so's he don't go chasin' racc.o.o.ns."
He shook his head and then said to Jeb, "You sure you don't know nothin' about this here hole?"
"Nope. Ain't even noticed it." He got up and grabbed the shovel that was leaning against the shed. "I can fill it in for ya."
"No, no!" Luke fairly shouted. "No, I want Mr. La.s.siter to see it first."
"What for?" I asked.
"'Cause I want to make sure it's safe."
"What could be unsafe about a hole under the shed?" I argued. "You lost your marbles?"
"Jessilyn, I know danger. I done got a sixth sense about such things. What if someone was tryin' to bury weapons or somethin'?"
"Weapons?" I repeated. "Weapons?" I started laughing. "We ain't at war. Ain't you been keepin' up with the papers?"
"I ain't talkin' about war spies. I'm talkin' about Klan." He studied Jeb. "You know anythin' about the Klan?"
Jeb set the shovel down and brushed his hands against his dirty dungarees. "Can't say as I know more than most. I tend to stay clear of men like that."
"Do you now?"
"That I do."
The two of them stood there staring at one another like they were in a duel, and I threw my hands up in disgust. "This is the dumbest thing I've ever seen." I went over and picked up the shovel and started digging in the hole.
"Jessie, put that down," Luke shouted when he finally tore his eyes away from Jeb to check on me. "That might be dangerous!"
But by that time, I'd gotten enough dirt out to hit something hard with a clang. I dropped to my knees and reached into the hole with Luke yelling at me to stay away. "You want some explosives to blow your arm off?" he asked when he reached me. He tugged at my shoulders, and I fell backward onto my backside in a puff of dust. "How do you know there wasn't somethin' down there that would hurt you?"
I held my hand above my head and said, "Like this old coffee can?"
Luke looked at the can for a minute. Then he took it from my hand, inspecting it. "Well, I'll be . . ."
"You'll be an idiot," I said. "Ain't nothin' but Duke buryin' like I done told ya."
"What's he buryin' coffee cans for?" Luke asked angrily, his pride hurting.
"Momma used to keep his biscuits in that can till it disappeared one day. I suppose he done run off with the biscuits and decided to bury the evidence." I got up and dusted my britches before handing the shovel to Jeb. "Think you wouldn't mind fillin' in that hole after all? Seems Luke's done a right fine job solvin' the mystery of the missin' dog biscuits."
Jeb nodded at me with a smile, and I set off toward the house, laughing.
Luke followed, and when I turned around to look at him, I could see that his face was bright red. I laughed at him again.
"Ain't so funny as you think," he retorted, but I just kept on laughing.
Once we reached the steps, we could hear Momma calling us from the kitchen.
"There's supper," I said to Luke. "You gonna taste my food too? I mean, if someone's tryin' to kill me, they may just as well poison me as blow me up."
Luke opened the screen door for me but kept his gaze pointed toward the ceiling, and when he followed me in, the door slammed much louder than usual.
Daddy stopped dead in the hallway and looked at us strangely. "You tryin' to break my door off its hinges, son?"
"No, sir."
Daddy studied Luke for a second. "You sure you ain't sick or somethin'? You're red as a beet."
"Don't worry 'bout Luke none, Daddy," I said on my way to the kitchen. "He knows when there's danger about. He's got a sixth sense about such things."
Chapter 12.
All I could hear was the constant patter of raindrops against the tin roof as I lay there on the sofa, reading the same paragraph of my book over and over again.
"Quit chewin' your nails," Gemma said from her place on the floor where she was working on her needlepoint. "It's a nasty habit."
"I'm nervous," I whispered.
"So am I, but that don't mean you should nibble your nails down to the nubs."
"But what if the sheriff came to arrest me?"
"He ain't gonna arrest you," Gemma said, exasperated. "He came here to talk to your daddy about Walt's trial, that's all. You heard 'im."