I picked out another cloud. It went all fuzzy like the first one, changing shape and color so fast I began to get dizzy. I felt Granpaw tap the back of my head. Suddenly I was up there in the sky, right next to the cloud — I mean I was almost touching it — and there inside the cloud was Daddy, smiling, waving his bird claw hand, dressed in steel mill clothes.
You have to pay attention, son. Even in dreams.
A great happiness welled up inside me then. I felt something warm and flowing, giving out as if from where the skull’s fangs touched my chest. It flooded me and gave outward toward Daddy until there we were, together, one person skyward, not separate at all. Then just as suddenly I was back on the ground. The cloud had broken into two pieces, one small and one big.
“I never thought I’d see the like.” Granpaw looked over at Willis and laughed. “He’s a good one, ain’t he?”
Willis nodded that I was.
“What?” I said. “It didn’t melt.”
“Took me most a year to do that much,” Grandpaw said.
Granpaw drove up Bounty toward Harlan’s Crossroads. Hot air rushed in through the window over my face. It felt like spider webs.
“You don’t have a Rain Skull?” I asked Willis.
“Na uh.”
“How come Moses never give you one?”
“He don’t need one,” Granpaw said. “He’s been showed.”
Up ahead a bunch of cows had wandered onto the road. Granpaw slowed the station wagon and blew the horn.
I felt good. Happy and excited. “I seen Daddy, Granpaw. In that cloud. Heat came inside me from that skull. It went out to Daddy.”
“You the smartest little boy I ever seed next to Willis here. But you wrong, if you think heat came from that skull.” Granpaw pulled at the brim of his hat. “Bone. That’s all that is.”
“You said it was power.”
“Power’s in you.” Granpaw blew the horn again at the cows. They made way, running off both sides of the road. Granpaw went slow. He had to yell over the sound of the engine. “By itself t’ain’t nothin’! Bone with a bunch of seeds rattling around inside!”
We came to the little bridge that went over Kingdom Creek. On the other side there were two cars parked nose to nose along the side of the road. The car facing us I could see was Victor’s blue Cadillac. The other was smaller and red colored. I couldn’t tell what kind it was right off because it was turned the other way. Something like a towel maybe or maybe a flag hung from the antenna.
Victor stood in front of the Cadillac, leaning against the front end. He was talking to some little man that sat cross-legged on the hood of the red car. As we came across the bridge, the little man passed a jar over to Victor. Victor set it down behind him and out of sight.
“Well, I’ll be.” Granpaw slowed the station wagon to a crawl and stopped. He leaned over from where he sat at the steering wheel, over Willis and me, and hollered out the passenger side window. “Hot day to be sittin’ at the side of the road!”
The branches of a dead cottonwood tree hung over the Cadillac. Victor pointed to them and grinned. “What do you mean, Mr. Wood? There’s plenty of shade!” A joke nobody thought was funny. “Should you be out here driving?”
Granpaw didn’t answer.
The red car was a Mercury, and the thing hanging from the antenna was a coon’s tail. The little man wore a dark gray hat and a vest over a white shirt rolled to the elbows. He was bony-looking and had a jagged pockmarked face with a broken, Dick Tracy type nose. He squinted from under his hat and grinned. I’d seen him before.
“These gentlemen came all the way from Florida.” Victor motioned toward the man on the hood. “They’re on their way to Detroit.”
“That right?” Granpaw said in his most deadpan voice.
“That’s right, Mr. Wood. They’re with Armstrong.” Victor smiled. “The one who’s helping me and Ruby.”
“I know who Armstrong is,” Granpaw said.
Something wasn’t right. Victor sounded way too friendly for one thing. For another he was talking about more than one man.
Granpaw saw it too, still leaning over Willis and me, he said, “Where’s the other at?”
“Other what?” Victor said.
“Other man or men.” Granpaw nodded toward the little man on the hood. “All I see is the one.”
“Oh,” Victor said. “In the car there. Resting.”
Slouched behind the wheel of the Mercury was another man, huge — it was a wonder we hadn’t seen him — his arms crossed in front of him, asleep. He wore sunglasses with white frames, and there was sweat streaming down one side of his face. I’d seen him before.
The boney little man leaned back and with the ball of his fist, pounded against the windshield. “Zeek! Look sharp! Company!”
Zeek jerked up and pushed the back of his hand against his mouth. Something or somebody had caved in one side of his face. He yawned at the back of his hand.
“This is Jimmy The Diamond,” Victor said, jerking his chin toward the man on the hood. “Jimmy, meet Mr. Wood.”
“Strode,” Granpaw said. “Name’s Strode.”
Jimmy The Diamond smirked. “Oh, yeah, the dirt-farmer.” He sat up on the hood of the Mercury like that’s where he belonged, like he was controlling things from there. “The man with the knife.”
“That’s right,” Granpaw said. “The man with the knife.”
Jimmy The Diamond grinned at Granpaw.
Cut him, Granpaw! He can’t talk to you that way!
Victor nodded toward Willis and me. “That’s my son, Orbie. I forget the darkie’s name.”
Jimmy The Diamond and Zeek both laughed at the word ‘darkie’. Willis bowed his head.
“Willis!” I yelled. “His name’s Willis! I ain’t your son neither!” I felt Granpaw’s hand on my shoulder.
Zeek laughed even louder. He hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. Jimmy The Diamond grinned. Victor stayed quiet.
When that settled, Jimmy put his eyes on Granpaw. “We’re discussing a little business here, Gramps. We’d like to finish and be on our way. If you don’t mind, that is.” It sounded final; like there wasn’t anything else a person could do but go away.
“No,” Granpaw said, “I don’t mind.” He sat up straight behind the wheel and started to put the station wagon in gear. Then he got another idea and leaned once again over Willis and me. “Quicker you all are gone the better, far as it matters to me!” He straightened again, put the station wagon in gear and spun away.
I was excited. “I know those men, Granpaw! They talked to Daddy. They were from the Union.”
“Say what?” Granpaw said.
“Inspectors, Granpaw. Daddy told me. It was a long time ago!”
“What they want with Jessie?”
“I don’t know. Help them I reckon. Daddy told them ‘no’.”
Willis looked at me wide eyed.
“You shore it was them?” Granpaw said.
“No, but they look like it. And they got a coon tail too.”
“Coon tail?”
“On the antenna.”
“I seen it,” Willis said.
“I never!” Granpaw growled. “God A Mighty!”
We went on down the road. After a little while we drove past Moses’ house and over the hill to Harlan’s Crossroads.
“Can the power kill people Granpaw?” I asked.
“Kill people?”
“Yeah. You know. That contrary power. Can it kill people?”
Granpaw turned up into the yard. “It don’t work around that easy, son.”
Next day Cecil came up in the yard, skinny arms fighting to keep the handlebars straight. His letter bag bulged with letters and magazines. Willis and me were standing out by the Jesus Tree, watching Elvis and Johnny catch pieces of loaf bread before they hit the ground.