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The Ridge: The Whisper of the Leaves - Chap. 38

Coming Home

By Dan BrawnerPublished 2 years ago 7 min read
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The Ridge: The Whisper of the Leaves - Chap. 38
Photo by Robin Jonathan Deutsch on Unsplash

Friday, March 19

Edna heard Ralph Barnes as he pulled into the driveway. She had the front door open by the time he stepped onto the porch.

“Marshall! Did ya find Marshall?”

“Yes, we did, Edna,” Barnes said as he gently took her hand and led her to the porch swing. He brought a chair around to face her and continued.

“Did ya hear about that school in Texas, yesterday?” Barnes asked.

“No, what about it,” Edna said frowning. “What does that have to do with Marshall?”

“Let me tell ya and you’ll see,” Barnes said. “About middle of the afternoon yesterday this school in New London, Texas, just plain blew up. The reports I saw said it was probably a gas buildup. They’ve estimated that when they get through findin’ all the bodies they’ll probably have three to four hundred people dead.”

“Oh, my Lord,” Edna said, putting her hand to her mouth. “Those poor people.” Then her face saddened. “ I know what those parents are goin’ through. There’s no feelin’ in the world like loosin’ a child.”

“I’m sure there isn’t,” Barnes nodded.

“But,” Edna said and sighed deeply. “ I still don’t see what that has to do with Marshall.”

“Well,” Barnes continued. “Ya see, that’s where they found Marshall.”

“Oh, Heavens,” Edna’s voice trembled. “He wasn’t hurt was he. My boy’s not dead, is he.”

“No, no, no,” Barnes tried to calm her. “Marshall’s fine. As a matter of fact, a Texas Ranger spotted him helpin’ to look for bodies. He was there helpin’. Tryin’ to do what he could for the people.”

Edna’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded her head.

“Edna!”

Barnes turned around at the sound of Carl’s voice. He was running across the porch looking from Edna to Barnes and back again.

“Carl,” Edna cried and stood as Carl took her shoulders in his hands. “They found Marshall. He was in Texas and he’s comin’ home.”

Carl collapsed beside Edna on the porch swing as Barnes repeated what he had told Edna.

“Now this Ranger and Marshall’re on their way to Wynne right now. They were gonna leave out about six or seven this morning. Should put ‘em in here between eleven tonight and one tomorrow morning.”

“What about Jenny?” Carl asked. “Have ya figured out who has her yet. We ain’t got any more messages. What’re we gonna do if they don’t send us another’n? How we gonna know what to do?”

“Take it easy, Carl,” Barnes reached out and put his hand on Carl’s forearm. “By tonight, I’m sure we’ll pretty well know what we’re gonna do. We’ve already got a good idea who has Jenny.”

“Who is it!” Carl said as he shot up from the swing.

“Carl,” Barnes stood and held his hands out defensively. “Now, hold on. Even if I knew for sure, which I don’t, I couldn’t tell ya. You know that you’re runnin’ on emotion. And if ya try to go after her, you’d just get both of ya killed. You know the best thing to do is to let us do our job.”

“He’s right, Carl,” Edna said, standing and taking his upper arm in both of her hands. “Let them do what they need to do. They know what they’re doin’.”

Carl dropped back down onto the swing, drained from the past couple of weeks. He nodded slowly.

“Just let me know if I can do anything,” Carl said quietly. “And I want to be there when Marshall comes in tonight.”

Barnes sighed and looked at the porch floor for a moment.

“I think it would be best if ya didn’t, Carl,” Barnes said after a moment. “But there’s no law against you parkin’ where you can see the police station. Just do what ya gotta do.”

Carl nodded curtly and stood back up.

“Gotta go back to tha field,” Carl said strode back to the end of the porch then back toward his plow, stretch-stepping from middle to middle.

“He gets things off his mind workin’ in the field,” Edna said and smiled. “It relaxes him.”

“Carl’s lucky to have you, Edna.”

Edna shook her head and chuckled in spite of herself.

“I’m the lucky one, Ralph. Carl’s the best man I’ve ever known.”

Edna hesitated and Barnes could see tears forming in her eyes again.

“Marshall has always reminded me of him.” She said then smiled. “ And Jenny’s got the same stubborn streak of both of ‘em.”

Edna stopped again and suppressed a sob, then went on.

“As a matter of fact, Ralph, now that I think of it, I’m not lucky, I’m blessed. I am truly blessed by God.”

Barnes was embarrassed, but was forced to brush away a tear form the corner of his eye.

“I gotta go, Edna,” Barnes patted her on the shoulder then stepped into the yard and turned back toward her. “Don’t worry, now. We’ll get Jenny back and we’ll do everything we can to make sure Marshall stays safe. Just go on doin’ what’cha normally do and leave it to us. I know that’s hard, but like I told Carl, that’s tha best thing ya can do. I’ll be talkin’ to ya.”

Ranger Johnny Conners was forty two years old but looked older. He was about Marshall’s height and weight with a similar build, but that was where the resemblance ended.

Conners hair and pencil-thin mustasche were almost completely gray. His skin was dark, wrinkled and leathery from the sun.

At a distance he might even have been mistaken for a fifty year-old Indian, but his lineage claim was to only twenty-five percent Comanche with the rest being a mixture of German, Irish and Scot. Women considered him strikingly handsome in a rugged, matinee idol sort of way.

To Marshall, though, he looked like what he thought a Texas Ranger should look like....a spruced-up cowboy who seemed to be uncomfortable anywhere, but on a horse, who had a code of right and wrong he lived by and expected others to live by as well regardless of the cost or consequences. And despite what Conners was in process of doing, Marshall liked him.

It was just after 8 a.m. and they had been on the road in Conner’s ‘34 Ford just over an hour. It had taken only that hour for Marshall to get comfortable with the ranger.

“So you don’t like farmin’ either,” Conners said to Marshall who was uncuffed and beside him in the front seat.

“No.,” Marshall said and shook his head. “Rather do just about anything than farm.”

“Ya may change ya mind as ya get older. I did some.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it.”

“What do ya like to do?”

“Hunt!”

“Well, it might be hard to make a livin’ just huntin’ in this day and age. The day of the trappers is pretty much over. Might could make it as a huntin’ guide, though”

“Maybe,” Marshall agreed. “But at least as long as I got a rifle and some shells, I may not be able to make a livin’, but at least I won’t starve.”

They drove for a few miles in silence, going through Pittsburg, Texas when Conners thought he might get a little more personal on the questions.

“The word I get is that whoever shot those two guys musta been a dead shot.”

Marshall kept his eyes forward and said nothing.

“Are they the ones that killed your brother?”

Silence.

“Did they have it out for him? Had he done somethin’ to them?”

Marshall finally spoke, but continued to keep his eyes forward.“James never did nothin’ ta nobody. He couldn’t’a fought his way out’ve a tow sack. He didn’t even like ta fight. Would go the other way if he could.”

“But they killed him anyway. Why?”

Marshall looked down at the floorboard for a moment then back up at the road, his eyes moist.

“They thought he’as me, I guess.”

“So they meant to kill you?”

“Yea. Probably.”

“Why? What did you do to ‘em?”

“They were gonna hurt a friend of mine. I stopped ‘em.”

“For them to want ta kill ya, you sure musta stopped ‘em awful hard.”

Marshall just nodded and stared out the passenger window. Conners knew that he was running the risk of having Marshall clam up completely, but the Arkansas sheriff had asked him to try to get some information out of him if he had a chance. He said on a long drive like this, Marshall might drop his defenses some. But Conners didn’t want to push too hard too soon.

“Ya like any sports beside huntin’?” Conners asked.

“Fishin’. Baseball. Mumbly-peg.” Marshall said grinning.

Conners laughed.

“Didn’t know mumbly-peg was such a serious sport, now.”

“Oh, yea,” Marshall said with fiend seriousness. “I even thought about goin’ professional.”

“Do tell?” Conners said grinning. “Well, let me know when ya do and I’ll come see ya.”

“I’ll do that.”

The moment of lightness was replaced by more silence. Other than commenting on the country side and weather, their conversation for the next hour was unproductive.

Historical
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