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Choa rose, dusting cookie crumbs from his lap.  Got to go, young Wim. We'll get word to Chief Shipp,
Miz Lena. You can rest easy about that."
They trudged off together, and Lena laughed to see how closely the boy tried to imitate Choa's loose,
ground-eating gait. That was a boy to watch ... one to teach. If he'd work for her a bit, she could give
him some guidance that might come in handy along the way.
She sighed. Old Possum wouldn't last forever, nor would King nor would she. It would be a pure pity to
leave the swamp country without someone who knew the old ways and could keep an eye on what went
on down here. With all the devilment in the world outside, some was bound to spill over into the
bottomlands. Needed to be somebody to put spokes in their wheels, once the old crew was gone.
* * * *
Wash got a call just before he left his office. His Aunt Libby sounded excited, and he pricked up his
ears.
"Got word from somebody you know, Wash. Says you need to go out to the old Monteverde place, out
past Polywash Creek, and check on Carlos. He has a ... problem ... and may need to go to the hospital.
You got that clear? she asked.
Shipp felt as if he might glow with satisfaction.  She did it, Aunt Libby. The old lady did it! I never quite
thought it would work, but by golly she managed it somehow."
"Don't tell me what, Nephew,  cause I don't want to know. But if you mean Miz Lena, she kin do
anything she sets her mind to, and don't you never forget that. Now scat!"
Shipp set down the phone and sat back in the deep chair. He stared at the phone for a moment. Then he
punched in the sheriff's office number.  Myra? Is Cole there?"
There was a click, and Ranse's voice asked,  What kin I do for you, Chief?"
"You want to take a little jaunt out in the country with me? That project you asked me about the other
day I think it may have come off. You want to find out?"
There was a grunt at the other end of the line. Then the sheriff said, his tone carefully unexcited,  Might
as well. Want to go in my car? I still got a ping in the county one."
"Pick me up in fifteen minutes, Shipp told him and stood to put on his jacket. The day was turning cool,
and even in the low country it would be uncomfortable.
The leaves were brown, now, and the grass had been tanned by the first big frost, last week. Cole drove
fast, sometimes using his detachable flasher to get around slow traffic. When they turned off on the farm
to market road, then onto the county road, he slowed, and Wash began to look for the obscure track
leading to the Monteverde place.
Fresh tire tracks marked the damp soil. He looked up at Cole, who nodded and turned in, following the
drive around the thick growth and onto the gravel patch amid the mown grass. The track they followed
led straight into a shed, whose dark interior showed the shape of a car.
"He's here, all right, Cole said, drawing his pistol.
"He's here, but he's not here, Wash replied.  If my Aunt Libby is right, which she always is, he has
problems. That means he isn't going to know or care much about what we do. I gave pretty specific
suggestions, when I sent word to Miz McCarver, and I understand she's mighty good at doing what's
needed."
He stepped onto the back stoop to find the door unlocked. Even after so many years of living in cities,
Carlos evidently still had the country instinct to leave his house open. Out here in the boonies, nobody
would dream of bothering a neighbor, and this house was so hidden that fishermen going to the river or
the creek would never know it was here.
Shipp opened the door and went in, to find the house warm, with the smell of food still hanging in the
kitchen. He moved up the hall to find the bedroom door open, as well. There he stopped and gestured
for Cole to come up beside him.
"Look! he murmured.
They stood together, watching the man on the bed, who was flailing his arms desperately, as if drowning.
When Cole stepped up to touch his shoulder, the dark eyes opened and stared up at him.
"The snakes! Get them away from me! And the quicksand oh, it's covering my face! Help! Help me!
Those eyes plainly did not see them or the room. Carlos Monteverde was lost in some terrible context
that was now his reality.
Together, the two men got him into his clothing and half carried him, still struggling against his private
nightmares, to the car.
"You think he'll come out of this? Cole asked.
"If my auntie is right, he won't or if he does he'll be too old to make any waves, the Chief replied.
"Good, Cole grunted and started the car.
CHAPTER XXVIII. Epilogue
The crickets had gone silent with the passing of autumn. Many birds had migrated south, though the
cardinals and jays still showed glints of crimson and blue amid the leafless branches of the forest, as they
searched for food. Crows filled the chill air with their raucous calls, and buzzards circled overhead on
their constant search for the dead and dying.
Possum Choa liked every season there was, cold or hot, wet or dry. He particularly liked it when the
bottomlands settled into their winter state, quieter than the rest of the year and yet with enough activity to
keep him interested. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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