The World Made Straight Read Online Free PDF Page B

pocket.
    â€œI’ve done that, but your daddy’s too stubborn to change. Always has been. Stubborn as a white oak stump. But you’ve figured it out, else you’d not have stole my plants in the first place.”
    â€œI reckon I need me a doctor,” Travis said. He was feeling better, knowing the older man was there beside him. His legdidn’t hurt nearly as much now as before, and he told himself he could probably walk on it if he had to once the Toomeys got the trap off.
    â€œThe best thing to do is put him down there below the falls,” the son said. “They’ll figure him to fallen and drowned himself.”
    Carlton Toomey looked up.
    â€œI think we done used up our allotment of accidental drownings around here. It’d likely be more than just Crockett nosing around if there was another.”
    Toomey looked back at Travis. He spoke slowly, his voice soft.
    â€œComing back up here a second time took some guts. Even if I’d figured out you was the one I’d have let it go, just for the feistiness of your doing it. But coming a third time was downright stupid, and greedy. It ain’t like you’re some shit-britches young’un. You’re old enough to know better.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Travis said.
    Carlton Toomey reached out his hand and gently brushed some of the dirt off Travis’s face.
    â€œI know you are, son, just like every other poor son-of-a-bitch that’s got his ass in a sling he can’t get out of.”
    Travis knew he was forgetting something, something important he needed to tell Carlton Toomey. He squeezed his eyes shut a few moments to think harder. It finally came to him.
    â€œI reckon you better get me to the doctor,” Travis said.
    â€œWe got to harvest these plants first,” the older Toomey replied. “What if we was to take you down to the hospital and folks started wondering why we’d set a bear trap. They mightfigure there’s something up here we wanted to keep folks from poking around and finding.”
    Carlton Toomey’s words started to blur and swirl in Travis’s mind. They were hard to hold in place long enough to make sense. He tried to remember what had brought him this far up the creek. Travis finally thought of something he could say in just a few words.
    â€œCould you get that trap off my foot?”
    â€œSure,” Toomey said. He slid over a few feet to reach the trap, then looked up at his son.
    â€œStep on that lever, Hubert, and I’ll get his leg out.”
    The younger man stepped closer. Travis stared hard at the beads. They were red and yellow and black, a dime-sized silver peace sign clipped on the necklace as well. Hubert raised his head as he pressed and afternoon sun glanced the silver, momentarily blinding Travis. The pain rose up his leg again but it seemed less a part of him now, the way an aching tooth he’d had last fall felt after a needle of Novocain. Travis kept staring at the beads, because they were the only thing now that hadn’t been drained of color. There was a name for those beads. He almost remembered but then the name slipped free like a balloon let go, rising steadily farther and farther away.
    â€œThat’s got it,” Carlton Toomey said and slowly raised Travis’s leg, placed it on the ground beside the trap. Toomey used spit and his rag to wipe blood from the wound.
    â€œWhat’s your given name, son?” he asked.
    â€œTravis.”
    â€œThis ain’t near bad as it looks, Travis,” Toomey said. “Idon’t think that trap even put a gouge in the leg bone. Probably didn’t tear up any ligaments or tendons either. You’re just a pint low in the blood department. That’s the thing what’s making you foggyheaded.”
    â€œNow what?” the son said.
    â€œGo call Dooley and tell him we’ll be bringing him plants sooner than we thought. Bring back them machetes and