Page 14 of Small Town Beast 2: Saverin’s Duet (Sins of the South)

SIX

TANYA

Tanya cleaned up the old man’s kitchen– what little needed cleaning— and swept his porch.

Then she carted out his trash to the curb, where Saverin could get it when he came back.

She weeded the scraggly tomato plants, the corn, and watered them.

Then she scrubbed the bathroom, and then took down the curtains and shook them all out.

When she asked Wilks Johnny to turn over his bedroom mattress he put his (proverbial) foot down.

“I know you’re mad at your man, but don’t take it out on my house,” he told her warily. “I appreciate the help but I can manage it all just fine.”

“If I don’t have something to do, I’m liable to walk up this hill and go home,” said Tanya flatly.

“You should listen to him, you know. Something’s happening in the hills.” Wilks Johnny’s brow furrowed. “There’s a bad wind this morning. Cold.”

“Yeah, it is cold.”

“Cold as a well-digger’s behind, my Daddy would say.”

Tanya cracked a smile. Mine used to say that, too.

“No doubt, honey, there’s a storm coming. Best we stay out of it, safe and sound right here.”

“You really think?”

Wilks Johnny folded his hands in his lap and frowned at the road.

“Just yesterday morning my friend Julette Dimple came to see me. She said she was going to Jamaica with her grandson. Said there was gonna be motion up here in Florin and she was done with it. I didn’t even know Julette had a grandson, to tell you the truth.

But she always knew what way the wind was blowing, my Julette. I’ll miss her.”

“Saverin told me he wasn’t involved in that mountain mafia stuff anymore.”

“I don’t know if that’s something you can walk away from,” replied Wilks Johnny. “I’ve seen enough gangster movies to know.”

Well, she hoped Saverin was wrong. And Wilks Johnny, too.

The last thing she and Saverin needed was more commotion in their lives.

And yet, Tanya couldn’t deny a nagging sensation that something big was about to pop off.

The morning was so quiet, so still, like the inhale before a scream.

Could be all that liquor you drank last night, messing with your head .

And what else had happened last night? Well, apart from watching her ex-boyfriend and baby daddy get blasted in front of her, winning the powerball with Gwen, and confirming she was definitely not pregnant, what should she and Saverin do but make love all night without a condom?

Drunkenly she had even begged him to — Shit.

She gritted her teeth. I need to get my head right over Saverin Bailey.

She sat down on the porch, her fingers getting itchy again with the need to clean, clean, clean. “Ah— Mister? Are you sure you don’t need me to—”

“No.”

“Alright.” Tanya flexed her numb fingers. “You need another blanket?”

“You’re a nice girl, but you’re driving me crazy.” Wilks Johnny cleared his throat, then asked with the bluntness of nosy old folks everywhere, “Do you love that white boy, or is it just a casual thing?”

“Love is a strong word,” said Tanya. I’m yours , she had moaned into Saverin’s mouth last night.

“Are y’all getting married?”

“You’ll have to ask him.”

“Back in my day that was illegal. Of course you had some leap the book, but nothing like what you see now. I don’t know if I like it.

Don’t know if you can ever trust white folks.

Not many like me are left around to tell the stories.

The truth of what really went down. Now it’s all, ‘forgive and forget’.

But maybe we shouldn’t forget everything.

” His eyes flickered. “Although your man ain’t a bad one. He’s got a good heart.”

“I know that,” said Tanya quietly.

“So do you love him?”

Did she love Saverin? Love meant forever. Love meant marriage. Babies.

I want twins , he’d growled at her.

Shit. She didn’t want a boyfriend, a husband, nothing. Right? She wanted to find her son, and raise her son, alone. Nobody else could be trusted but herself.

He killed for you . He promised you the world.

I never asked him to , she answered herself harshly.

“He makes me happy,” she said out loud. “He’s kind. He’s gentle. Funny, too. Real funny. He’s saved my life many times— he’s done a lot for me. I get excited to see him. I want to be with him all the time. I always feel good when he’s around.

“Then that’s love, babygirl,” Wilks Johnny chuckled.

“I suppose.”

“You’ll see. Make sure you tell him, though. Tell him that as much as you can, and make sure he says it back to you every morning and every night. I hope you two are happy together.”

“Thank you, Mister. I appreciate that.”

The old man settled deeper in his chair and stared at the road, his thoughts a mystery to Tanya. “If you had a million dollars,” she asked, changing the subject, “What would you ask for?”

“New legs. Them robotic joints. I seen a man win a relay race with no legs, imagine that.”

“What else?”

“After I fixed my roof? A new TV.”

“You could get more than that for a million dollars.”

“Not the kind of TV I want,” he chuckled. “I don’t want for much, little miss Tanya. I’m old. I’ve lived my life. Some days it feels like I’m just waiting to die.” His laughter faded. “You better cherish what you have. Life is too short to give up on love.”

Before Tanya could answer it seemed the wind brought a change in the air; everything went still, and the birds in the trees took silent flight towards the forest. Wilks Johnny cocked his head like a sheepdog and listened to the silence, which turned into a quiet rumbling under their feet.

“Somebody’s coming.”

“He can’t be back already,” frowned Tanya. “He said he was going all the way down to Rowanville.”

“Get inside, lil’ bit,” said Wilks Johnny slowly, setting aside his Bible.

“What for?”

“Because,” said Wilks Johnny, “That ain’t your Mister Bailey that’s coming down my road.”

Tanya’s heart sank. No, no. He’s wrong. Nobody’s coming. Wilks Johnny rolled himself to the two-seater chair on the porch, lifted up the cushion and out of nowhere produced an 18-inch barrel Remington.

“What’s that for?” Tanya stammered.

“What do you think? Go on inside, babygirl. Don’t let them see you.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off the gun. It looked old, but well maintained.

Double barrels gleamed in the morning sun from a fresh coat of mineral oil.

Wilks Johnny must have cleaned it regularly, and with careful attention.

He laid the weapon across his lap, never moving his gaze from the front gate.

Tanya reached for the handles on the wheelchair.

“Let’s just go inside in case it’s trouble,” she said, keeping her voice calm.

She had no intention of sitting out here with Wilks Johnny and his shotgun.

This old head might act tough, but she wasn’t going to let him play Rambo out here on this porch.

Besides, it was probably nothing that he’d heard; just the wind, just a truck on the main road, just.. .

Wilks Johnny swatted her off with surprising strength. “I’ve been to war. I don’t hide when strangers come up my road.”

“We should both go inside, make ‘em think nobody is home,” Tanya reasoned. “If there’s anybody there at all, I mean. Right? Sound carries funny in the hills sometimes.”

“I know what I heard,” said Wilks Johnny, checking the shotgun chamber.

Should she call Saverin? What could he do for them?

He was probably in Rowanville already on his business; and anyway, it was too late.

The old man had been correct: there were three F-150s pulling up to the gate and Saverin’s Legacy was nowhere in sight.

Cold fear gripped her as a troop of white men poured out of the trucks.

Tanya didn’t know much about guns, but she doubted Wilks Johnny’s piece could stand up to the fifteen or so pointed in their direction.

“What they could do to you is ten times worse than what they could do to me,” Wilks Johnny barked. “Run out back. You can get to the forest.”

Too late. They were at the gate now. So many of them… “I can’t leave you here by yourself, Mister.”

“You better put down that gun, coon,” the head of the pack called from over the fence. He was a tall, redheaded, ill-formed lump of freckles. He had a mean look to him and he seemed horribly familiar.

“One more step and I’ll light your ass up,” Wilks Johnny threatened.

The bulky redhead stopped at the gate, his shuffling goons positioning themselves so they could easily duck for cover.

“Where’s Bailey?” demanded Hiram, though Tanya didn’t know his name yet, still searching her brain for where she’d seen him before. The Appletree, her memory supplied.

Wilks Johnny’s knuckles paled on the Remington. “Watch your step, cowboy, unless it’s trouble you want.”

“Trouble don’t bother me,” said Hiram, showing his yellow teeth. “Trouble’s what I come for. Let me ask again: where’s Saverin Bailey?”

“He ain’t here.”

“So who’s that? Your daughter? She looks real familiar.” Hiram’s smile widened as he looked Tanya up and down. That’s the man who ran out on his check, she realized in a flash, and at the same time Hiram recognized her too.

“Hey, darlin’. Remember me? Biscuits and gravy,” he cooed.

“ Get inside, Tanya. ” To the man Wilks Johnny called, “What do you want with Bailey?”

“That’s our business, darkie,” spat Hiram. “And don’t think I’ll spare your hide ‘cause you got no legs.”

“Tanya,” Wilks Johnny said furiously.

Tanya backed up towards the door, laying her hand on the handle…and then realizing, in cold-dripping horror, that her bag with the lottery ticket was next to Wilks Johnny’s leg.

That money was her ticket to finding Amari– that money was everything.

Before she could make a move, diplomacy was over. One of Hiram’s men took a shot at the fixture next to Tanya’s head, and without hesitation Wilks Johnny blasted right back. The rednecks hit the ground.

“TANYA!” the old man roared.