The Choiring of the Trees - Donald Harington [208]
“Followin Viridis to find your hidin-place, I reckon,” I said.
“Who shot him? Did she do it?”
“No, I thought it was you, but maybe it wasn’t, if you weren’t even here day before yesterday.”
“Where was he hit?”
“Right yonder, jist beyond that big white ash tree.”
“No, I mean where in his body did the bullet hit him?”
I touched a spot behind my ear. “Right here,” I said.
Nail shook his head. “Was he hurt bad?”
“He’s dead, Nail.”
“No.”
It got awfully quiet up there in that cavern; all you could hear was the sound of the waterfall. Finally I made some conversation: “They buried him this mornin up at the Jasper cemetery, but your sister wasn’t even plannin to go to the funeral, and I don’t reckon nobody else went neither, ’cept the preacher and maybe the sherf.” Nail didn’t comment on that, so I went on: “You never saw such a happy bunch of folks as everbody in Stay More. We threw a big squar dance up to the schoolhouse to celebrate.” Nail managed a smile but didn’t say anything about that either. “The sherf locked up your brother Waymon at the Jasper jail, but Waymon has got a good alibi because he was gone plumb to Harrison at the time it happened, to get some medicine for your dad.”
“How’s my dad?” Nail asked.
“I reckon Doc Swain can tell ye all about that,” I said. “I better go git him right now.” Then I suggested, “Why don’t I jist take that .22 with me and hide it somewheres off from here?”
“No,” Nail said. “Leave it where it is. I want Doc Swain to see it.”
“You’re crazy,” I said.
He smiled. “So are you, Latha. Comin up here like ye done. Takin keer of me. Warmin me up like ye done. Weren’t ye scared there was a danger I could’ve raped ye like they thought I done to Rindy?”
I smiled. “I wush ye had done somethin to me. And now I won’t never git me another chance. Good-bye, Nail.” I turned and fled.
I wondered who to tell first: Viridis or Doc Swain. As it turned out, I didn’t have to decide, because when I went into the village looking for one or the other, I found them sitting together out on the porch of Doc Swain’s clinic, enjoying the shade and the afternoon breeze. I don’t know what they’d been talking about as I strolled up, but they’d become pretty good friends and could have been talking about anything under the sun.
“Howdy, Latha,” Doc Swain said.
“Howdy, Doc,” I said.
“Hi, Latha. How are you today?” Viridis said.
“Hi, Viridis. I’m pretty good. How are you?”
“Fine.”
“I wish it would come a rain,” Doc Swain said.
“We could use one,” I allowed.
“I wish it would come a man named Nail,” Viridis said.
“We could use one of them too,” I said. I timed a few beats before adding, “And it looks like we’ve done finally got one, sure enough.”
Doc and Viridis both raised their eyebrows at me. “How’s thet?” Doc asked.
“He’s back,” I said.
Doc looked up and down the main road of Stay More. “Shore,” he said. “On a big fine white horse, in a full suit of steel armor and chain mail.”
“No, he’s flat on his back, with alternate-day malaria,” I said.
Doc said, “Huh?” and Viridis said, “Where?”
“At the waterfall,” I said to her. And then I had my story ready for her: “I thought I’d seen you on Rosabone riding by, heading that way, and I figured you’d looked for me and not found me, so I ran off after you, but I couldn’t catch up, and so I went on to the waterfall by myself, and there he was, in the cavern.”
Viridis jumped up. “Really?” she said.
“Yes, and he’s got a bad case of alternate-day malaria, and this is the alternate day, with chills and fevers and sweats.”
Doc Swain jumped up. “Really?” he said. “That’s shore enough the symptoms. Where is this cavern?”
“Just beyond where you went day before yesterday morning.”
Doc and Viridis exchanged looks, and I knew they were thinking what I had thought, and I said, “But I don’t think it could’ve been him who done it. I don’t think he even got here until sometime last night.”
Viridis was leaving the porch. “I’ll saddle Rosabone,” she said.
Doc was leaving the porch. “Let me get my bag, and then I’ll get my horse too.