The Woods at Barlow Bend Read Online Free PDF

through the front door. Other than sitting in the parlor listening to the radio most evenings, going to bed earlier than he ever did before, and leaving most mornings before the rest of us awoke, I didn’t know how he spent his time. I assumed he went to work and solitary walks after dinner, but he never said, and I never asked.
    Without a word to Stephen, Marshal Brooks, or the strange man, Daddy squeezed my shoulder and turned to Aunt Matt. “I won’t be long,” he said.
    With that, Marshal Brooks escorted him to the back seat of one of the cars. Stephen and the strange man got in front. Marshal Brooks went to the other car, and then both cars pulled away.
    I looked across the street to see the neighbors staring back at me. Several of the women held their hands over their mouths and whispered to one another. The men shook their heads in disbelief before going back to the business of the day. I pressed my fingers hard into the sides of the bowl of shucked peas until my fingertips turned white and felt my anger, just as strongly as the day of Momma’s funeral, turn my cheeks red. I turned sharply to Aunt Matt, searching for an explanation. What did Cousin Stephen mean by questions about Addie, and what did the strange man in the dark jacket need with Daddy? Why did the neighbors think it was any of their damn business? Aunt Matt didn’t answer. She just gathered up our bowls.
    “Go on, get in the house.” Aunt Matt rushed me in without looking at the neighbors still gawking from their porches.
    Later that evening , I lay in my bed, pretended to sleep, and tried to make sense of the day. Earlier, Aunt Matt and I finished fixing supper. She hurried us through dinner, then put the little ones to bed. Aunt Matt, Meg, and I listened to the radio for a while before she ordered us to bed as well.
    I kept asking her when Daddy was going to be home, but she just said, “Baby, don’t you worry about that. Your Daddy will be fine.” Daddy had to be fine. Of course he would be fine.
    As I lay there in my small bed with Meg sound asleep next to me, I heard Henry and Aunt Matt talking on the porch. I don’t think they knew my window was open or that I was still awake and could hear their conversation, even if I did have to strain a little. Mrs. Williams, the old widow across the street, had left her radio on as usual. I swear, as soon as Old Man Williams kicked the bucket a couple of years before, Mrs. Williams ran down to Hendrix General Store and bought the fanciest, most expensive radio Mr. Hendrix had for sale. Rumor has it that Mrs. Williams spent every dime Mr. Williams had saved on that radio. So, every night since, Mrs. Williams fell asleep in the rocker in her front parlor with the window open and the radio blaring. On this particular night, Viviane Seal’s piercing soprano was being broadcast from Mrs. Williams’s window for all of Frisco City to hear. However, if I held my breath and kept perfectly still so I wouldn’t rustle my bedcovers, I could just make out what Henry and Matt were saying on the porch.
    Apparently , Henry had gone into town to find out what happened with Daddy. Henry said that all people could talk about was the police showing up at our house.
    “They’re saying it wa dn’t no accident. They say he shot her out there in them woods and then made the whole story up,” Henry told Aunt Matt.
    According to Henry, Daddy was being questioned about Momma’s death, and the Clarke County solicitor was determined to get an indictment from the Grand Jury, stating that Momma’s death was no accident and that Daddy was responsible. My head started to spin. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to tune their voices out. I tried to concentrate on Vivian Seal and whatever song she was singing, but all I could hear were the words Henry said. Daddy wouldn’t do something like that. He couldn’t. Momma’s death was an accident, a terrible, awful accident. Daddy was a good man!
    I lay awake for most of the