Little Black Book

Bounty in the Boondocks

The trouble started the day after Daddy died. It was all Awnrie’s fault.

You don’t know my older brother Awnrie, but he’s as greedy as they come. Nothing was going to stop him from finding that buried money. The first thing he did was tear the house apart, looking for Daddy’s hand drawn map.

“Whatcha after anyway, Awnrie?” I asked him. We were down in the garage. Awnrie was rifling through Dad’s shelves like a cop looking for cocaine, and I was tuning up the weed whacker for Ma.

“Don’t play possum with me, Theo. You know Daddy buried a box of money out on Reese Ridge. I’m gonna git it. All’s I need is that map. And it’s in his little black notebook. Now where is it?”

Awnrie’s so rotten. He didn’t care one lick that the money was cursed.

When I had the weed whacker tuned and purring, I hauled it out to the yard and handed it to Ma.

“He’s after the notebook already. You hid it, right Ma?”

Ma revved up and started whacking the flower bed. “Daddy liked these daisies but I never cared for em’.” She zipped them off at the root. Dirt was flying up everywhere. “I think I’ll get me some rose bushes instead. What’cha think, Theo? And don’t you worry. Awnrie ain’t gonna find that notebook. I hid it real good,” she shouted.

But Ma didn’t count on how greedy he was. He found that thing the next day, at the bottom of her dirty underwear basket. Like that, he was out the door. “Whoowhee! ‘Bout to have me a good old-fashioned treasure hunt!” He said, and threw shovels in the truck.

“Leave that money out there!” Ma hollered from the porch, stamping her feet. Awnrie peeled out. “Cur-sed money oughta’ stay in the ground!” We watched his truck disappear down the lane in a cloud of dust. “That boy never listened to no one. Cur-sed money!” She said.

Then she turned to me. “Theo, take your Daddy’s bowling balls in town and drop em’ off at the church. Preacher needs them for the missions. Lord knows Daddy ain’t usin’ em’ anymore.” Ma never left her feathers ruffled for long.

As it turned out, she had a whole list of chores for me to do. It wasn’t until after supper that I made it down to the church and delivered the bowling balls. Preacher Darryl was playing spider solitaire on the church computer.

“Say Theo, sorry to hear about your daddy. Ya’ll holdin’ up okay?”

I figured I couldn’t lie since I was in a church.

“Preacher, you think my brother Awnrie’s gonna make the cut?” I pointed to the little Jesus on his desk.

Preacher Darryl raised his eyebrows and took a drink of coffee. “What do ya mean? Awnrie in some sort of trouble?”

“Awnrie’s been a rotten apple from the get go, Preacher Darryl. When we was kids, he’d sucker punch me in the head and run off with my candy!”

“No kidding,” he said.

Then I told him all about how Daddy buried that cursed money on Reese Ridge. And how Awnrie was out there looking for it.

“Theo, this is serious. You tell me everything you know about that money! Don’t spare any details. Your brother’s everlasting soul’s in jeopardy!”

We locked up the church and took a stroll through the graveyard out back.

“How much money you say this was?” Preacher Darryl asked me.

“Ma says there’s twenty-thousand dollars out there.”

“Wowee!” Preacher leaned on a headstone and grabbed at his collar. “That’s no little money. Sure do wonder how your daddy came across it?”

I shook my head. “Ma won’t tell. But we definitely ain’t supposed to go after it. She says it’s got a curse on it.”

He threw his hands on my shoulders. “Son, let Preacher Darryl help you with affliction of the human heart. I’ll go out there and talk to Awnrie myself. Cause money,” he looked me square in the eye, “is the root of all evil. ‘Specially when it’s cur-sed money.”

“Well, ain’t that kind of you? But watch your back Preacher Darryl, or that curse could get you too.”

We cut up through the graveyard in a hurry. When he took off toward the ridge in his Cadillac, I felt pretty good about the whole ordeal.

I headed home and found Ma in the kitchen, straightening up Daddy’s liquor cabinet. “Your brother’s still out there.” She said.

“Ma, don’t worry too much. Preacher Darryl went out to talk to Awnrie about his sinner ways. He’ll set him right.”

“What good’s that do? You know your brother don’t listen to no one.”

“Well, if anyone can get through to him, it’ll be Preacher Darryl. He has a certain way with words. I’m sure Awnrie will see the light.”

“Cur-sed money.” Ma took a swig of gin.

But at ten o’clock, Awnrie still hadn’t come. Ma and I loaded up the car and drove out to the ridge. We found Awnrie’s truck parked along the woodline, but no sign of Preacher Darryl.

“Alright,” Ma switched on her flashlight. “We go in on foot. Let’s try this way.”

Ma and me mucked along the narrow trail. Whippoorwills chirped from the treetops. Coyotes howled and yipped. I figured they ate Awnrie already.

“Let’s try down by the crick.” Ma said.

The way down was steep. Ma was in her nightgown and slippers, squawking the whole time: “Dang Awnrie! Dang cur-sed money! I should be home watchin’ Murder She Wrote reruns.”

“Awnrie!” I hollered. “You alright?” All I heard were coyotes yammering.

“Let’s try under the big oak tree. We gotta cross the crick.” Ma hiked up her nightgown and started in.

“How do ya know the way so good, Ma? Almost seems like you’ve been out here before.”

“Just a hunch. Shhh. You hear that?”

I listened. “Yeah, sounds like someone’s cryin’.”

“That’s Awnrie,” Ma said, and we took off running.

We found Awnrie under the oak tree, bawling like a baby.

“What in tarnation happened to your face, Awnrie?” Ma shined the light on him.

“He smacked me upside the head with a shovel! He took the money! And my new flashlight!”

“Who did?” I asked Awnrie as I pulled him to his feet.

“That dirty crook Preacher Darryl!” Awnrie kicked a tree. Then he rattled on, spitting and sputtering: “Bet he’ll be awful sorry when I get the law out here.”

Ma got a hold of his ear and gave it a jerk. “Told you bout’ that money, didn’t I? Get yourself together, Awnrie. You ain’t callin’ the cops. You aint tellin’ nobody about this. This never-ever happened. Now, let’s get out of these woods.”

Back on the trail, Awnrie said something outright loony: “Ma, did Daddy kill someone?’

“No, why?” Ma chuckled.

Awnrie looked more nervous than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He started stuttering: “I h-had a look at that m-m-money before I shut the b-b-box. That money’s r-r-red. It’s covered in b-b-blood. I figured Daddy musta’ offed s-s-omebody for it.”

“Ain’t blood on that money. Your daddy didn’t kill no one. If that snake Darryl thinks he’s gonna get rich quick, he’s got another thing comin’.”

“Why Ma?” We both asked.

“Cause I stole that money from the county bank about twenty-four years ago. Dye packs exploded while I was countin’. It’s dye, not blood. Every cur-sed bill’s covered in it.”

“Ma! You yankin’ our chains?” Awnrie said.

Ma gave Awnrie a look so nasty, it would make the Devil piss his britches. “I ain’t lyin’. If he tries to drop just one dollar, the law will be on him like flies on cow pucky. Cur-sed, red, good-for-nothing money! And that’s why me and your daddy buried it out on the ridge. We quit robbin’ banks after that. Hell, I was six months pregnant with you,Awnrie! Ha. The good ol’ days. Now, let’s book it, boys. I wanna get home in time for CSI.”

*****

The next day we buried Daddy. It gave Awnrie a chance to spin the yarn about his black and blue face. He told everybody he got jumped outside the dive bar in town: “You think this is bad?” He’d point to his jaw: “ You should see the other sorry S-O-B.”

Preacher Darryl never did stop by to pay his respects. No one knows where the bowling balls got off to.