Davy traveled with Henry Meyers down the road from Gerardstown to Front Royal. Feeling comfortable with Henry, he told him the truth—he wanted to go home to Tennessee now, even if he had to go by himself, begging for money along the way. Patting the boy on the shoulder, Henry nodded and smiled with understanding.
“Davy, if I had a load going south, I’d take you home.” His powder blue eyes twinkled. “But I can help you scramble up some money.”
Dusk descended upon the cattle pens in the center of Front Royal as Henry walked with Davy to the campfires of teamsters settling in for the night. They went up to a group of men who were laughing and passing a jug of whiskey. Henry put his arm around Davy’s shoulders and cleared his throat
“Gentlemen, may I please have a few minutes of your time to tell you the tale of this poor little stragglin’ boy from Tennessee.”
Looking up, the teamsters stopped talking to glance from Henry to Davy and back. “Yeah, sure,” they muttered.
For the next few minutes he launched into a mostly true account of Davy’s association with the detestable Adam Meyers. When he came to the part about the trip to Baltimore, Henry turned and nodded toward the boy. “You better tell this part, Master Crockett.”
Davy stepped forward, looked down and tried to muster up some tears. “I’m so embarrassed.” He rubbed his sleeve across his eyes. “I should have been grateful Mr. Meyers gave me a chance to even go to a big city. I always wanted to see the big ships but he knew I was a weak boy so he said no. No goin’ to the harbor. So I snuck out one night and ran off. I knew it was wrong, runnin’ off and not sayin’ anythin’—“
“Aww, boys will be boys,” one of teamsters said.
“I guess sometimes a boy has to stray from the strait and narrow to learn the right road to travel.”
“Yeah, that’s right, that’s right,” another teamsters added, nodding in agreement.
“So I went right up to a ship and luck would have it that the captain was holding a contest to pick out his new cabin boy. I won every test and became the cabin boy for the ship Jezebel.” He paused to look knowingly around the campfire. “I should of known no good would come of it on a vessel with such a wicked name like Jezebel.”
All the men laughed and slapped each other on the shoulder.
“Then that night the captain took me to a house in town that had painted women in it.”
Oohs and ahs rippled through the group.
“It was then I realized the error of my ways,” Davy said, shaking a finger in the air. “I wasn’t goin’ to shame my mother no more so I ran away from the Jezebel and went back to Adam Meyers. Now I knew I wasn’t goin’ to be welcomed with no big hug, but, but—“ He stopped to hold back imaginary tears.
“That’s all right, boy,” a teamster said. “Take your time.”
“He beat me,” Davy said in a whisper. “He beat me bad.”
“The dirty son of a bitch.”
“Only a dirty coward would beat a boy like that.”
“Now what happened? Don’t be scared, boy. You’re among friends here.”
Davy glanced over at Henry who had put his large hand to his bearded face, perhaps hiding a smile.
“I couldn’t take it no more,” he continued. “So I told him I was leavin’ and I wanted my seven dollars back. He wouldn’t give it to me.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“And the Good Lord led me to this man,” Davy said, pointing to Henry. “As it turned out this man, Henry Meyers, is the cousin of the accursed villain Adam Meyers.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd. David glanced at Henry who only looked away and studied the darkness as though he had heard some distant coyote’s howl.
“He grabbed me, and we immediately went to his cousin, rousing him from his bed. Grabbing the man by the scruff of his neck, Mr. Henry Meyers demanded he pay me what he owed.” Davy paused, trying to compose himself and confided in a low voice, “He didn’t have it. He’d spent it all on liquor.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Let’s tar and feather ‘im!”
“No, no,” Davy said, trying to calm down the group. “If he ain’t got my money, he ain’t got it.”
“Somethin’ should be done,” one of the teamsters said indignantly.
Coughing, Henry stepped forward and raised his hands. “This is why we’ve come to you good gentlemen. This poor stragglin’ boy needs money to git home to his mother in Tennessee.”
“All my brothers and sisters died of the plague,” Davy added.
“Well, hell,” a teamster said, standing, “I’ve got a few spare coins in my pocket.”
“Oh no, I can’t take charity,” he said, shaking his head. “Ma said never to take charity.”
Henry put his hand on his shoulder. “This is no time for pride, boy. You want to see your ma, don’t you?”
“I guess.” Davy shuffled his feet.
After collecting the loose change in a handkerchief, he profusely thanked them and walked with Henry back to his wagon.
“That should be enough to git you to Tennessee. Stay with me tonight and start out early tomorrow.” He patted Davy’s back. “Good story. Use it again if you need the money.”

***

David turned without a word and bolted for the door. He passed his daughters and walked to the shallow creek among the trees. He ambled along, breathing in the crisp autumn air. His foot stumbled over something that rattled. Kneeling, he picked up a rusted trap. He remembered buying them last spring before he went on the campaign trail after Elizabeth fussed that rabbits were getting into her garden. Hearing limbs crack under a heavy step, David looked up to see Robert lumbering toward him with his rifle slung over his broad hammy shoulders.
“Shoot nothin’?” David asked, standing.
“No.”
“I could of told you that.”
Robert stopped on the creek bank, tensed and looked at his father. “Oh?”
“I mean, it ain’t the right time of day.” David knew he should shut up, but his mouth was off and running. “The wind’s all wrong. Light ain’t good. Aww, they’re jest things you pick up the more you hunt.”
“I don’t git to hunt as much as I’d like to. I have to work the farm.”
“Yeah, I know. You done good.”
“Thank you.”
“The corn crop brought a good price. You didn’t git took, that’s for sure.”
Robert turned to walk to the cabin. David wanted him to stay, but he could not think of anything else to say. He glanced down at the rusty trap in his hand. “By the way, I found this trap down by the creek. It’s all rusted up.”
“I won’t do that again.” He clinched his jaw and began to walk again.
“If you feel bad about not baggin’ anythin’ I could go back with you and shoot you somethin’.”
“If it’s a bad time of day,” Robert said slowly as he turned to look at his father, “what makes you think you could hit anythin’?”
“Well,” David replied with a sly smile, “years of huntin’ ought to count for somethin’.”
The waves of emotions flooding Robert’s face scared David because he saw hatred, anger, resentment, frustration and aggravation roiling in his eyes.
“All right. Show me how good a shot you are.” Robert walked toward his father thrusting the rifle into his hands.
“Son, I don’t want to—“
“Load.” Robert gave him the pouch and powder horn, grabbing the rusted trap and throwing it to the ground.
David hesitantly loaded. “I don’t know what this is goin’ to prove.”
“After you shoot I’m goin’ to shoot.” Robert pointed to a tree across the creek. “See the old oak over there? There’s two leaves on that long branch. You take the one on the right.” He glared as David just stood there, blinking his eyes. “All right, I’ll go first.” He grabbed the rifle from his father’s hands.
“Now if you git all upset you ain’t goin’ to shoot good at all.”
Robert swung up the rifle, took quick aim and fired. The golden oak leaf on the left side disappeared, which brought a satisfied smile to his face.
“Oh.” David paused. “I didn’t know you was that good.”
Robert took the pouch and horn to load the rifle. “You don’t know a bunch about me.” He finished and handed it back. “Now it’s your time to shoot. Only one leaf left.”
Lifting the rifle slowly, David took long, careful aim and shot. The faded leaf did not even quiver in the breeze. He lowered the rifle listlessly, feeling as empty as he did the day he learned he lost the election. He stepped closer to the creek in hopes his eyes deceived him and the leaf was actually gone. It was still there.
“Like I said, the light’s bad this time of day.”
“Anythin’ you say.”
David did not like his son’s tone of voice. He heard that tone too often in Washington and in Obion valley taverns and did not want to hear it from one of the children.
“I’ll have to buy another trap at Kimery store tomorrow to replace the rusted one.”
“Anything you say,” Robert replied and walked away, leaving his father feeling empty and cold.

***

I hate to bother you, but I have an idea.
Dave could not believe Allan was speaking to him again. He saw the coffin, heard the eulogy and looked down into the six-foot deep pit that would engulf his brother forever. Why was not Allan gone?
“What?” he replied vacantly.
I can’t stand living with that old devil anymore.
“You’re not going to live with me.”
Waco has Baylor University. I always wanted to go to a really good university.
“Allan—“
And I know exactly what I want to study.
“No.” This conversation had actually happened sometime in the past, and Allan did not want to live with him in Waco, but wanted to move in with him at his college in Commerce. Dave remembered feeling empty and cold from the fear of carrying his brother like his father had carried him, and he refused to lose his life to try to breathe life into Allan.
Psychology. After all the time I’ve spent with psychiatrists I’ve learned all the tricks of the trade.
“Allan, I said no.”
And all I’d need would be a master’s degree to be a counselor in a mental health clinic.
“I said no!” he shouted.
You’re just being selfish. That’s all.
“I said no!” Dave repeated. He remembered he had been desperately afraid he would fail as Allan and Vince had failed. He remembered how he shoved his brother, the first time he had ever touched him in anger.
Puppy!
Now his memories and his current emotions blended creating an intolerable situation in his mind. “You’re dead! Don’t you know that?”
Dead?
Dave thought if he could grab Allan by the shoulders and shove him into the lid of the coffin covered by carnations he could convince his brother he was dead and did not belong in this world anymore.
“It was in the Dallas Morning News! In thirty-six point type! ‘Transient found dead in warehouse fire’!”
Puppy–
“You stupid bastard! We put you in a halfway house, but you wouldn’t stay, you stupid bastard!”
They were too bossy.
“You damn stupid bastard! We tried to help you, and all you could do was go off and get yourself killed!”
I’m dead…dead….
“Yes! You’re dead! So go to heaven! Go to hell! Go wherever you—you crazy people go after you kill yourselves!
Dead…dead….
Allan stepped back and seemed to fade before Dave’s eyes. He was gone, Dave told himself he was finally gone. Now Dave did not have to be afraid anymore. He did not have to be angry anymore. He did not have to feel guilty anymore. The relief caused him to fall on the top of the coffin and sob loudly.
“Let him go, son.”
Dave looked up to see Lonnie behind him and felt his hand patting his back. Lonnie’s touch was gentle, which reminded Dave of the time he watched his father tenderly trap a butterfly in his hand off the truck windshield and release it out the window.
“Let him go.”