The Witchery Way Page 10

  Josh stared at It for a moment, then he looked up at Amy. "Never mind the buffalo. Are you okay?"

  She smiled, leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I’m okay."

  "I’ll take the blanket to the cleaners and put it back in the truck."

  Amy said, "Good. Tonight was special—and private."

  As Josh drove back along Highway 70, he wondered if his plan would work. He might get lucky and foul up Trace’s operation—whatever it was. Far to the northeast, over the Kiamichi Mountains, Josh saw a flash of lightning, and a few seconds later he heard thunder. With luck, a front might roll in and cool off the repair shop tomorrow. He knew things were going to heat up at the Choctaw Railroad—one way or the other.

  CHAPTER 10

  A week later, at five-thirty p.m. on Friday, No. 88 made steam for the first time in thirty years. Josh knew it was only a stationary test, that the first trial run would not happen until Monday, but he felt excited anyway. Joe Buck had worked Josh and Amy very hard. They had made pins and links, bushings and brasses. The Johnson bar, having been abandoned as a nest by the dove and her family, was in place. No. 88’s coal tender had leaked and had to have its deck altered. Josh and Amy had repaired the flues and firebox, with Joe offering supervision. They had "modernized" the locomotive to make it more reliable. Joe had scrounged most of the parts in trades with Burlington, and Southern had provided overfire jets and a reliable speedometer.

  At one on Friday, Joe had let Josh light a scrap wood and waste-oil fire on top of the coal in the firebox. The big engine cooked steadily, reaching 100 pounds per square inch of pressure by five-thirty. Josh celebrated by giving two blasts on the Nathan whistle. Finally, two water glass tubes broke, and Joe said, "Shut her off. We can fix ‘em tomorrow."

  After a shower and sandwich, Josh and Ed walked into Wake McKenna’s hospital room. The big ranger was propped up in bed reading a mystery. His cheeks were ruddy with color again, and his eyes were bright. There was a six-inch scar that ran from below his chin to under his right ear.

  Wake said, "Hey, guys. They’re springing me tomorrow."

  Ed said, "They can’t afford to feed you."

  "I’m easy. A rasher or two of bacon with eggs for breakfast. Chicken fried steak sandwich for lunch. Maybe a light supper. Cobb salad, fried okra, cornbread, jello with bananas ...“

  "Stop it!" Ed said, raising up his hands. "Only Josh can appreciate all that."

  Josh said, "I know why they’re getting rid of you. The nurses aren’t paying any attention to the other patients."

  Wake smiled, crinkling the scar. "You’re just jealous." He gave Josh an appraising look. "You look different, Josh. You got an extra wiggle in your walk. You notice that, Ed?"

  Ed glanced at Josh. "Yeah, I noticed."

  Wake grinned at Josh. "What is it, Josh? Hey, you’re blushing!"

  Josh felt his face flame. "Aw, No. 88 made steam today."

  The ranger grinned. "You sure that’s all that made steam?”

  Josh knew he had to change the subject.

  "I’m glad you’re feeling better, Wake."

  "Thanks for the blood you gave me."

  Josh shrugged. "It’s the least I could do, considering you were out looking for me when it happened."

  "You should have stayed in bed."

  "Yes sir, I can see where you would feel that way."

  "Did you find what you were looking for out there in the woods?"

  "Well, I did talk to Isaac Sixkiller about some things."

  Wake nodded. "Your dad told me. He said you led someone a hell of a chase afterward."

  Josh nodded.

  "Think it was the same person who jumped me?"

  "Yes sir."

  "Who?"

  Josh paused and crossed his legs in the chair. "I think it was Trace Gottschalk."

  "I see." Wake thought about that. "What do you think, Ed?”

  "Trace could have done it. Proving it is another matter."

  Wake shifted in the bed. "I’ll tell you one thing, Ed."

  "What’s that?"

  "This isn’t going to stop the Hickory Creek Excursion. Today’s July 29th. I’ve got two weeks to get stronger, and you’ve got the same time to finish that locomotive. If you made steam today, you’ve got a shot. When do you do the trial run, Josh?"

  "Monday. There’s a turnaround just east of town. It was put in years ago for short trials. We’re going to take it out and back."

  He smiled. "Great. You’ve done a good job, Josh. And you did a good job out at the park, repairing the tracks." He looked at Ed. "I’m sorry I can’t offer a delay, but the dates don’t work out."

  Ed said, "I know. And anyway, we’ve already publicized the tour and sold the tickets. We’ll have people coming in from all over."

  Wake said, "You can be proud of Josh."

  Ed smiled at Josh. "I am proud of you."

  "Thanks." He knew it was now or never for his idea. He said a silent prayer. "There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask both of you."

  Ed said, "What?"

  "Well, I told you about how Isaac got fired by Trace because of age, and how he lives in the past?"

  "Yes?”

  “I’ve been trying to think of a way we could put Isaac and some of the other Native Americans to work, maybe give them a sense of being vital again...and at the same time, show their heritage."

  "Show it to whom?"

  "The tourists on the Hickory Creek excursion."

  Ed pursed his lips and thought about it. "What do you have in mind?"

  "I thought we might have them put on a ceremonial dance at the park, right after we arrive."

  Wake said, "That’s a great idea, Josh! I’ve been trying for years to come up with a way to get those Indians on our side. It could cut down the vandalism and mend some hard feelings." He paused for a moment. "The tourists would love it. We could use that open area where the tracks form the Y.”

  Wake seemed enthusiastic.

  "Do you think Isaac might go for it?"

  "I don’t know. I didn’t think about it until after I left him. But I would like to try."

  Josh and Wake looked at Ed Wade. He ran his hand across his cheek and gave Josh an appraising stare. "How would you contact Isaac?"

  "Tom said he and Isaac go in to Noble’s Bait Shop every Saturday noon for groceries and lunch. Isaac likes their fried chicken. I could meet them out there."

  "The Gottschalks might kick them off their land if they did something like that to help the railroad."

  Josh shrugged. "They’re proud people. Trace doesn’t treat those Indians right. Besides, we’ll never know unless I ask."

  Ed walked to the window and looked out into the dusk . Finally, he turned. "If Wake and I agree to this, where will you be during the ceremony?"

  “I’ll be helping Isaac and Wake. There’ll be plenty to do. I’m sure Isaac will build tepees or a dance lodge."

  Ed hesitated. Something must be bothering him. He said, "If Wake approves, then I’ll give you the okay to ask them. On one condition."

  Josh knew the condition, but he asked anyway. "What’s that?"

  "You don’t go into those woods again under any circumstances."

  "I agree."

  Ed’s eyes were intense. "I want you to do more than agree. I want you to swear—before God and your mother’s memory—that you won’t go into the woods."

  The room was quiet, save for the hum of the air conditioner. Josh didn’t feel cold anymore; he felt sweaty. "I swear."

  Ed nodded. "What do you say, Wake?"

  "Go for it, Josh."

  Ed walked over and patted Josh on the shoulder. "I’ll talk to Joe about giving you an hour off tomorrow to go out to Noble’s. If the Sixkillers don’t show, come on back to work. We’re not going out to the Gottschalk’s place." He looked at Wake. "Rest now. When they check you out of here tomorrow, I’ll give you a ride back to your cabin. I’m sure the doctor gave you orders to rest for a few days."


  Wake nodded. "You got that right." He patted his paperback novel. "I’ve got plenty of reading. See you tomorrow." He waved at them. "Good luck, Josh. I hope you pull this off."

  In the parking lot, Ed leaned against the pickup and looked at Josh. "Can you trust those Indians?"

  "Yes. I trust Isaac. He saved my life."

  "There’s more to trust than giving somebody a witchcraft pouch. Anyway, I’m glad he’s on your side." He paused. "Do you trust Tom?"

  Josh thought about it. "I don’t know how to read Tom. He’s been hurt by his family leaving him. It’s hard for Tom to trust anyone."

  "You’d better be right on this, Josh. If we make this commitment, and they let us down, it will hurt the park and the railroad."

  "I know, Dad."

  Ed folded his arms and looked down at his boots. His face seemed even more etched with lines. Josh felt something was eating at his father. Did he have a plan of his own? Was Josh complicating that?

  At last, Ed looked up. "You’re taking on a lot this summer, Josh. I wonder if you can handle it?"

  Josh felt stung. "I handled myself pretty well when I found Wake bleeding to death in the woods, and I’ve worked hard for Joe."

  "I know. But you and Amy aren’t kids anymore." There was an awkward pause. "That’s evident now."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I found my letter blanket, Josh. Behind the seat in the pickup."

  Josh felt sick inside. "Oh, damn." He cursed himself for forgetting to take the blanket to the cleaners. "I’m sorry, Dad."

  Ed let him stew for a moment. "I don’t condemn you, Josh. You’re becoming a man, and Amy is an attractive young woman. My point is responsibility. If you’re going to take on the actions of a man—like sex—then you have to accept the responsibilities that go along with that. I hope you used protection."

  "I did."

  "And then there are your dealings with your Indian friends. Are they using you? Are you using them? Are you willing to follow through on the friendship if it is truly that? Friendship means commitment. Friendship lasts years, a lifetime perhaps. Serious actions have serious results. You went into the woods trying to solve a mystery. You took that action against the wishes of everyone close to you. As a result, Wake McKenna almost lost his life. Do you see my point?"

  Josh swallowed. "Yes."

  "Good. Because your actions this summer have put you in a new ball game—it’s called adulthood. If you screw up now, more is at stake: your life, my life, Amy’s, the Choctaw Railroad—everything that counts. Are you sure you want to initiate this thing with the Indians?"

  "Yes."

  "Okay then. Just remember your promise to stay out of those woods.”

  Josh nodded and got into the pickup. As they drove home, the sun went down, casting a gold rim on a bank of clouds to the west. Josh knew that soon he would face a choice: break a promise sworn to his father before God, or break a vow he had made to himself and God.

  CHAPTER 11

  Saturday morning at 11:45, Josh turned off Highway 70 and pulled into the gravel drive in front of Noble’s Bait Shop. The place had two gasoline pumps with a waste can between them. The storefront showed peeling paint, and four used truck tires leaned beneath the windows. Slick, the yellow tabby, was sunning himself on the windowsill. Around the tires were items displayed for sale—or because Raylene Noble did not want them inside—a metal deer with one hoof missing, an old Mercury outboard motor, three baskets of peaches, an old refrigerator with a circular cooling coil on top, and a lop-eared hound with sad eyes.

  The day was hot, the sky blank-blue. Josh’s shirt stuck to his back. He slammed the door to the pickup and smelled fried chicken. Raylene Noble’s fried chicken brought in people all the way from Swink to the east and Speer to the north. Truckers got a whiff and did U-turns at the Red Star Tavern. Raylene was a large, red-headed woman somewhere between thirty and fifty. She had a round, pleasant face with freckles, and her ice blue eyes could reduce a trucker to jelly.

  Josh opened the screen door and walked inside. An air conditioner hammered away above an aluminum vat of minnows. There was an electric aerator stirring the water. Josh waved. "Hidy, Raylene."

  "Hidy, Josh."

  "Seen Isaac and Tom yet?"

  “Nah. They sometimes late." She put down a Harlequin Romance and smiled at him.

  “Watcha have, the usual?"

  "The usual."

  "A breast, two wings, tater tots, and a large Coke."

  "Right."

  She dropped the pieces of chicken into the deep fat fryer. After a few minutes of small talk, she handed him the basket of food. He paid her, smelled the chicken, and sighed. Soon, he was enjoying it. "Raylene, will you marry me?"

  She smiled, showing white teeth. "Give me a back rub every night?"

  He ate a tater tot. "How’d you hear about my back rubs?"

  "Word gets around."

  He nodded, wondering what else had gotten around. "Well, let’s make a deal."

  "What?"

  “Neither one of us gets married until we check with the other.”

  She reached over and pinched his cheek. "Finish your chicken."

  He did, then walked over to a small booth along the wall near the minnow vat. There were two dead minnows, belly up in the aerator’s wash. Josh faced the other way, so he wouldn’t have to look at them. Then he saw a pickup park out front. Tom and Isaac got out. Josh watched Isaac use his snake stick as a cane and hobble over to the shade of a big oak on the east side of the building. He leaned against the tree and waited. He was wearing the same jeans and faded denim shirt that he had on that night in the cave, and now he wore a crumpled, leather hat that seemed too big. His chin jutted out from under it.

  Tom came inside and ordered food. Raylene dropped chicken in the fryer and began putting grocery items into a box. Tom nodded toward Josh. Josh nodded back and waited, sipping his Coke. Tom paid Raylene, picked up two sacks of fried chicken and came back to the booth. He was wearing jeans and a leather vest with no shirt. The medallion hung from a leather necklace around his neck. His hair was longer, framing his face, and he looked even bigger than before. His eyes were curious. "You come to see us, or just eat chicken?"

  "Both."

  "What do you want with us today?"

  “Talk."

  Tom looked out the window at Isaac. "Come sit with us."

  Outside the blast of heat hit him, and he squinted against the sun. Isaac leaned against the tree, the features of his face hidden in shadow, except for the shine in his eyes. Slick, the yellow tabby, stood up in the windowsill, stretched, and jumped down. Then he ambled over, rubbed against Josh’s back and then curled up in his lap. Josh said, "Why didn’t he go to you?"

  Isaac smiled, showing his gold tooth. "Because he know I won’t give him chicken."

  "But I don’t have any to give."

  "Yes, but you smell of it. He like to lick your hands."

  Josh looked down and scratched under Slick’s chin. The cat purred. Josh stroked his soft fur. "I guess he can spot a sucker."

  "That’s what you are, Railroad Boy."

  Josh shrugged. "I’m a sucker for some things, I guess."

  Isaac bit into a drumstick. "You were a sucker that night at the cave."

  Josh said nothing.

  "I told you to wait. You played the sucker for the witch."

  Josh nodded, taking it.

  Isaac took out a handkerchief, coughed, and wiped his face. "That ranger lucky you stumbled over him."

  Josh rubbed behind Slick’s ears. "Yes."

  "He better now?"

  "He’s fine. Going back to the park tomorrow."

  Isaac bit into a chicken wing. There was a film of grease around his mouth. Slick twisted to look at the chicken. He felt heavy in Josh’s lap.

  Isaac said, "How did peyote make you feel?"

  "Like I was in a dream. I smelled an odor and tracked it. I thought at first it might be the peyote playing tricks on m
e."

  Both Isaac and Tom waited, their eyes intense. Slick stopped purring and looked up at Josh.

  "Then I saw the nightwalker."

  Isaac said, "How you get away?"

  “I ran until I couldn’t run anymore; then I crawled under a fallen tree."

  Isaac licked his fingers and started on a chicken breast. "Then?"

  "Then I waited and prayed and squeezed the witchcraft pouch. Hoped the hiding spell worked."

  Isaac nodded. He sipped tea and shut his eyes.

  Tom shifted his position and stroked the medallion on his necklace. "Did he get close?"

  "He sat on the tree."

  "Did you ever see his face?"

  "My eyes didn’t. My heart did."

  Isaac’s eyes opened, and they looked softer. He put the chicken breast in the sack, and his arthritic hands rubbed the handle of the snake stick. "Who your heart see?"

  "Trace Gottschalk."

  Isaac stared at him. "Railroad Boy, let me ask question."

  “Ask.”

  "Why don’t you quit? You’re heading for hurt."

  “I’m no quitter."

  Isaac shook his head and chuckled. "What you want to talk about?"

  "I want you to get some Indians to dance at the Hickory Creek excursion."

  Isaac’s eyes widened. He laughed, a rattling, dry sound that started deep in his chest and ended in a cough. "Why would I do that?"

  "Because it’s a chance to show your heritage again. It beats sitting around all day feeling sorry for yourself because Trace fired you for getting old."

  Isaac’s smile faded. He took out a pack of Camels and bummed a light from Tom. He exhaled off to the side to miss Slick. "Where is your respect for old man?"

  "Isaac, I respect you, but time is running for all of us: you, the railroad, the Indians in the area. How long has it been since they did a Sun Dance? Or a Bear Dance? Do the Indian children still know what it means? Have they ever seen it? I’m asking you to be what you are again. There’s a saying, ‘Use it or lose it.’” He paused. "I talked my father and Wake McKenna into giving you a chance to use it again."

  "We do dances sometime."

  "You do them for yourselves, Isaac. Here’s a chance to do them for people from all over the southwest. There are people coming in to ride on a steam locomotive for the first time in their lives. They’re bringing their kids, and most of those kids have never seen an Indian ceremony."