Crew and The Goat Lady – Ch 4
When trouble brews in the form of a group of raucous young men, Crew takes matters into his own hands.
Author’s Note: This is a short story based on a character from “Letters to Dogwood“. It is recommended that you read the book first before delving into Crew’s story. I wrote this because it was requested by a reader and it made me realize that everyone deserves someone, even if they aren’t your typical good guy or hero. Love comes in all shapes and forms, personalities and quirks. And considering that Crew has a heart of gold, he deserves someone just as interesting as he is.
-Tanya
Chapter Four: Lead Kneecaps
Crew ignored the three shadows that argued and jostled each other drunkenly on which course of actions would frighten The Goat Lady the most.
He followed the fourth shadow around the back of the cabin, his footsteps light.
The fourth boy was slighter of build than the others and sure on his feet. He also wasn’t as three sheets to the wind as his friends. Something was menacing about how the young man crept along the back wall, running his fingertips along the rough pine planks, his breathing harsh. Crew was three steps behind him, quiet as a field mouse, watching the shadow head bob and weave as he tiptoed forward.
When the light from the single back window illuminated lascivious teenage features, Crew quietly propped his rifle against the wall. From his back pocket, he withdrew a handkerchief and balled it up in his hand, creeping forward without a sound. He didn’t even breathe.
The boy had just cupped his hands around his face to peer through the slats in the shutters when Crew had him.
A muffled scream escaped Crew’s prey before the balled-up handkerchief stoppered any cries. If the wad of fabric and the sizable man’s bear hug hadn’t silenced the peeping Tom, then the low, guttural voice in his ear did.
“You better hush up, boy, because I’ll do a lot worse to you than hogtie and gag ya if you don’t. Nod if you understand.”
Eyes rolling, the boy nodded.
“Not as dumb as you look, are you?”
From his other pocket, Crew procured a length of strong, flexible rope. Years of experience made fastening the boy’s hands and feet awkwardly together as easy as breathing. Harsh pants came from the body on the ground, and the lamp light from the shutters painted yellow stripes on his terrified face. Reaching behind him, Crew grabbed his rifle and aimed it right at the boy’s gut.
The young man stopped panting and lay still as death.
“I’m gonna have a little chat with your friends, and when I get back, you better be here.”
Eyes bulging, the boy nodded. He could have easily spat the handkerchief out but didn’t dare.
Crew grunted in satisfaction and pulled the rifle’s muzzle from the prone figure’s belly. Keeping a light tread, he circled back around, squinting in the dark. The remaining three adolescents were shouting again.
“Hey Goat Lady! Is it true you killed your husband?”
“Did a mountain lion really rip half your face off?”
Laughter ensued, high and cruel.
“Or was it your husband that cut you up? Is that why you killed him? Is-”
BOOM!
Two of the three boys screamed and scrambled away.
Crew reloaded the smoking rifle, snagged the nearest boy who had fallen in the dirt by the collar of his shirt, and shouted, “Get your sorry hides back up here if you know what’s good for you!”
One shake of the boy’s collar had him screaming, “Richard! Billy! Come back!”
They couldn’t see them, but Crew heard hesitant footsteps. The cowards were probably hiding behind those trees. That was fine. All he wanted to do was talk to them. Maybe come to an understanding.
“I got your other friend hogtied in the back,” he said, making his voice as low and deadly as possible. “There’s two other men out there in those woods if you get the notion in your head to scamper off.”
There was silence for a moment while sluggish brains processed this, and then one of the more confident idiots called from behind his tree, “What are you gonna do to us?”
Crew pretended to think, squeezing the collar of his victim tighter when the fool tried to shuffle away. “Well, I reckon you’ve been botherin’ Miss Della for a while now, and so far, she hasn’t pressed no charges. But I’m startin’ to think she needs to have a little visit with the sheriff.”
“Noo,” moaned the second youth from the darkness to their right. “My pa will kill me.”
“I ain’t scared of no sheriff,” barked the first one.
It grew quiet again, and the air charged. Anger rising, Crew asked, “What about a leg full of lead, boy? Ever had your kneecap shot straight to hell?”
There was no answer.
“Looks to me like you boys are headed for lives as outlaws. That’s how they start, by terrorizin’ the innocent. Well, you can’t get real far as an outlaw with a busted knee. They never heal right. You’d have to use a cane for the rest of your life. Whatcha think? Why don’t you come out here and try a lead kneecap on for size-”
“Don’t do it!” screamed the idiot at his side. He tried to make a break for it, but Crew had his number and put him in a swift chokehold.
“Sure you wanna be wrestlin’ with someone with a loaded gun?”
The boy grew still again, breath whistling from the tension of Crew’s arm around his throat.
“Didn’t think so.”
“Sir, why don’t you just let us go?” shouted the confident fellow, not quite as confidently as before.
Pondering this, Crew raised his gun and aimed it toward the darkness. The weak, slatted light from the window shutters behind him must have revealed his actions because there was a slight rustling as two pairs of feet dodged behind their trees for cover. “I could let you go, but I reckon you’d come back next time with your menfolk in tow. I’ll tell you what. I’ll make you a deal. You don’t ever darken this lady’s doorstep again—don’t even step foot on her property—and I won’t tell all of your daddies what you’ve been up to at night after drinking all their whiskey.”
“He doesn’t know where we live,” whispered the second one.
“He will if he follows our tracks tomorrow morning, jackass,” hissed the first one.
“My pa will kill me,” the second boy repeated, real fear trembling in his voice.
Another silence. Crew’s shirt sleeve was growing damp from the third boy’s sweat.
“All right, Mister. You got yourself a deal. Just let us go.” The confident boy was all false bravado, but Crew could hear the uncertainty behind it.
“Just don’t forget, I saw every one of your faces. You so much as look at the road leadin’ up here, and I’ll know it. I’ll be on your doorsteps faster than I can cock this rifle. You understand?”
“Yes, sir,” came three sets of voices.
“Good. Now, git.” He released the chokehold he had on the third boy.
They fled into the night, footsteps crunching and growing fainter down the lane. Crew retraced his steps back to the boy behind the house and repeated everything he’d said to the others.
“I won’t come back, sir, I swear,” croaked the youth in the dirt while Crew untyed his restraints. He looked ridiculous on his back with his feet and hands in the air like an upended turtle.
“Get out of here,” Crew growled, shoving the boy a little so that he stumbled a few steps before he, too, disappeared.
After several minutes of hearing nothing but the rustling of the winter breeze in the skeletal trees above, Crew went around to the front and gently rapped on Della’s door.
Iris started barking again.
“Miss Della? It’s me, Crew. I ran those boys off for ya. They shouldn’t bother you again.”
There was a scrape and a great thump of the board falling to the ground, and the door swung open.
“You didn’t kill one of them, did you?” Della cried, terror widening eyes that were full of unshed tears. She had a rifle, even older than Crew’s own Henry, propped against the work table. In one hand, she used the cane.
“No, ‘course I didn’t kill one of ’em, they’re just kids being pissants is all,” he exclaimed, lying only a little for her own good and ushering her back inside. “Get back in bed, Miss Della, you don’t need to put any weight on that foot-”
But before he had a chance to say anything else, Della flung the homemade cane to the side, wrapped her arms around Crew, and kissed him right on the mouth.