"Anthony H Stewart - Ghost Dog" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stewart Anthony H)

Mom made me go to bed early that night, but I didn't go to sleep. Soon I heard my parents talking in the kitchen. I tiptoed out of my room and listened.

"I've heard Harry Taylor is a wife beater," Dad said. "That true?"

"The last time Mrs. Taylor was at church she had a big black eye," Mom said, her voice a whisper.

"Damn white trash. What's the latest, then?"

"I heard it from the Methodist preacher's wife. Mrs. Taylor has taken up with Zack Maples."

Zack was one of the few bachelors in town. He owned the feed store down by the depot. He was cute as lemon pie. He had a "hot rod," and Dad was always giving him tickets for slinging rocks down our main drag.

"That's hard to believe, but if Taylor hears about it she may end up with more than a shiner."

Mrs. Taylor had always been nice to me, bringing me cookies on Christmas and such. She told me it was because of Chubby. After I went to bed I couldn't stop thinking about her and at twelve o'clock I was still awake. I happened to look outside. A quarter moon peeked out behind clouds, but otherwise the only light was a small lamp by our back porch. At the edge of the shadows sat my ghost dog and its eyes seemed to penetrate the darkness. I almost strangled on my heart. I hurriedly ran outside, but it had disappeared. I returned to the house, but it was early morning before I slept.

The next morning was so hot the dust seemed to settle in the air. Even the leaves on the big pecan trees down by the Brazos River weren't stirring. Turkey buzzards soared the thermals above mesquite covered bluffs, looking for dead things in the canyons. It was early June, and school was out, so I roamed all over town, indulging my curiosity at every turn. I saw my ghost dog down by the Taylor place. I climbed down by the creek that went behind the house and wandered through the wood. The dog was digging in the soft earth, but when I approached it disappeared behind a storage building.

Curious, I glanced in the open door. Rakes and shovels stood like soldiers at attention along one wall, and a high shelf contained weed killers, bug sprays and animal traps. I lost interest pretty fast as I heard footsteps behind me. It was Chubby. I hid in the building as he walked by, his face all red with tears. I was puzzled, bu! t I didn't want him to see me so I scrambled back home.

I didn't see Chubby for a couple of weeks after that, and hardly thought of him until one night in July Mom went to a church social. Your great-grandma was a church-going woman. Raised on prunes and proverbs we'd say - but I didn't want to go, so I faked a bad cold and stayed with Dad. Rance Hobson, a deputy who worked at the county seat, had come by and he and Dad sat on the back porch drinking beer and swapping stories. I stood at the kitchen door, drinking a Coke and listening. I think Dad knew I was there, but I wasn't worried. After a bit the talk turned to local gossip and Harry Taylor was mentioned.

"When was the last time you saw Taylor at the courthouse, Rance?"

"Oh, about a week ago. He came by and talked to a lawyer. Wanted him for file divorce papers on account his wife up and left."

"I knew they'd been having problems," Dad said, taking a sip of beer.

"Didn't know she'd left. Wouldn't blame her if she ran off, but Taylor has a hair trigger temper."

"I heard about Zack," Rance said, chuckling.

Zack had dreamy blue eyes and long sideburns and thick black hair that reminded me of Elvis. Us girls were always curious about his exploits.

"I talked to him last week," Dad said. He claimed he'd never mess with a married woman."

"You believe him?"

"You know, I really should talk to Taylor."

"You're gun-shy, ain't you? After he chased you off his land one time. What happened, anyhow? You never told me much about it."

Dad reddened.

"It was several months ago. His son had been getting into fights at school and Jenner wanted me to have a talk with his father. Taylor was sitting on his front porch, drinking from a bottle of scotch. He jumped up and asked me what I wanted. I tried to talk civil, but it didn't help. He said that there was nothing wrong with his son, and unless I had a warrant, I could just leave. I saw a shotgun leaning against the doorsill. I didn't want to cause an incident, so I left."

"Did you see his wife?"

"Yeah. As I was walking out the gate I looked back and saw the curtains move. She peeked out the window, but when Taylor went toward the door, she jumped back."