The Hollow Tree at Dead Mule Swamp Read Online Free PDF Page A

some
help. Maybe we could get her a separate bank account that the checks could be
sent to so Bert can't get the money."
    The frightened look came over the
boy's face again. "She'd lick me too, if she knew I'd told you about Bert.
He says he'll kill her if she rats on him. I think he would."
    "All right. We'll wait on
that. But I'm going to think hard about a way to fix this. You do know that
most boys don't live in sheds with a tarp for a roof, don't you?"
    "Yes, but it doesn't make
anything better to think about it," he said with glum wisdom.
     
    I wrote Jimmie a receipt for the
money I would keep for him, and he put the seven dollars in the bag under the
crock on the hatchway steps. I gave him the peanut butter and jelly and the
loaf of bread. He tried to refuse, but finally relented when we slipped it in a
plastic bag and put it under some empty beer cans in one of the milk crates. I
couldn't understand how a child could be too frightened to bring home food. And
I still knew nothing about the mysterious sisters. I hadn't dared bring that
subject up again.
     
    Jimmie and I slipped into an easy
routine for the next week. I decided I might get more answers from him by
giving him a way to communicate without being embarrassed. Sunday night, I
worked out a message in his tic-tac-toe code and slipped it into the envelope
along with a pencil. I first asked him, "Why an angel?"
    Late Monday, I saw Jimmie slip into
the back yard. He hadn't ridden his bike up to the house, but had come in from
between the trees. I didn't go out to talk to him. However, after he left I
checked under the crock, and he'd answered, also in code, "Christmas for
my mom." That made sense. I was extremely pleased that Jimmie seemed
willing to answer personal questions via code.
    He came to the hatchway each day,
and by the end of the week I'd learned his sisters' names were Beth and
Lindsey, that they were seven and four years old, and that they lived with
their father, somewhere in Iowa. From this information, I deduced Dee had a boyfriend or husband between Lee and Bert, and the girls were Jimmie's half
sisters.
     
    Writing coded messages was not all
I did that week. I spoke to both Adele and Cora about the situation, now that I
knew the boyfriend's name was Bert Fowler. Adele immediately knew who he was,
and told me with barely suppressed anger that the county had been trying to do
something about that family for months.  She said no one would file a
complaint because of Fowler's violent temper and general threats to kill anyone
who interfered with his family.
    Since Adele know pretty much what
everyone was doing most of the time, she also told me Bert hung out at the Dead
Dog, a local bar, some week nights, but always on Saturdays. She also said Dee
Mosher had once been a good-looking vibrant woman. When Lee was killed she had
married again, and moved away. Adele didn't know where. But when Dee moved back
to Cherry Hill, she was overweight and depressed. She'd spent too much time at
bars and the truck stop in Emily City. Then she'd taken up with Bert and all
but disappeared from view. That was three years ago. But Jimmie came to school,
was clean and not a discipline problem. He never had any visible bruises.
Everyone could see how they lived, but there wasn't an obvious reason to file a
complaint. Sure, the boy was thin, but so was his grandfather. Most everyone
remembered that Jimmie Mosher. He'd owned the Cherry Blossom Restaurant. 
    I asked what Bert looked like, and
she told me he was about fifty, not yet fat, but going bald on top, so he wore
a cowboy hat. He had a waxed mustache, and a swagger that made him stand out.
    Cora was excited about meeting
Jimmie, and she urged me to bring him to visit her. I promised her I'd try to
work something out. It seemed as if no one kept track of the boy well enough to
mind if he were missing for a few hours. He apparently spent all day riding the
back roads looking for metal. And Jimmie had said he'd like