Fatum Bridge

Some bridges meant for jumpin, some meant for climbin, and some meant for drivin. But the Fatum bridge, that’s meant for killin. Livin’ so close to the bridge, we heard plenty of stories growin up bout bad men rightin’ wrongs' by way of alligator retribution. But somethin’ bout it bein‘ your own Pa, that’ll really set your hair on end.

Dutton spotted em. He’d wandered off, conveniently right around bath time. No doubt, chasin’ dragonflies and buildin’ mud piles. Ma was out front near the river callin his name, when he come runnin’ back through the thick of the trees. I was in the window, anxiously waitin his lashes. He didn’t get none though.

“Boy you covered in mud. So help me, I brought you into this world-“

On account of the window bein‘ broke and unable to open, I only collected muffled sounds of my brother's distress-bits and pieces of his garbled voice. Words like, Daddy, and riverbank, and drowned.

I can think of only one reason why the gators didn’t get to em. He’s simply too rotten. Since he made it a habit to leave when it suited em, no one thought much of it when he disappeared for some time.

“Signs of foul play.” That’s what the sheriff said when he come knockin at our door. Ma’s cautious in the company of men, so she made sure the other officers stayed put while Sheriff come inside.

“Ma’am? Do you have any idea where your husband may have been the last week or so?”

Dutton and I scooted past him and the door and sat at the dinner table. I eyed his squeaky clean badge pinned to his shirt. “Sherriff Abel,” It said.

“Boots off Sheriff, I know this shack ain’t much, but I won’t be havin mud leadin flies in here.”

Dutton and I sat at the table awaitin supper. Chitlins boiled in the pot over the stove. With Pa gone it was time that pig made use of itself. As I took my first bite, I feared Pa’s undead body come through the backdoor all zombie-like, screamin’ obscenities for killin’ a putrid animal he loved more than his family. Two peas in a pod those two. He’d won the hog in a game a Texas hold’em, in which he probably cheated. Course, since Dutton found his body, that wasn’t the first time I’d seen Pa all bloodied up, foam in his mouth, come hobblin towards me with his hands outstretched. I shook the thought from my head, and eagerly scooped broth from my bowl until Ma gave me a look that put a leash on my ill manners.

Sheriff took a cautious bite, tryna hide his loss of appetite. “So you don’t have a clue where he mighta been? Maybe a regular spot he likes to go to? Anybody he goes and sees? Trouble he’d been in?” He wiped his mouth free of hot sauce and garlic but left crushed bay leaf nestled in his John Wayne mustache.

“Sheriff, imma say this only once, and not just so my kids don’t gotta keep hearin it, but because it puts me out, thinken all the times he left me on the floor like a skinned rabbit-returnin all drunk and needin a place to lay his crooked head. I stopped carin where he run off the night I saw the last ounce of grace leave his soul. You ever watch all goodness just leave someone’s eyes and never return?”

“Well, you gotta give me something. Soon there will be lots that want to pin this thing on you, the bridge being so close to your home and all.”

Ma chortled stew out her nose. “Wouldn’t that be the hero story of the year?” She swung her spoon in the air, flingin broth on our faces. “Distressed wife kills evil husband, saves family from life-long-sufferin.”

“That kind of irreverence won’t help your case ma’am.”

“Irreverence? I believe that kind of judgment is up to the Man himself don’t you? Assumin your God fearin and all. I won’t pretend to be someone else for some ignorant public. You hear me?” Ma now pointed the spoon at the tense Sheriff.

In truth, she made me a little scared. With Pa around, she was usually much more reserved. She kept quiet for the most part, tried to stay out of his way, unless he asked for her to remove his boots, or fetch em beer in the fridge. Maybe this side is the woman she was all along. Or maybe it’s the woman she wished she was when he made a ruckus of our righteous livin.

At any rate, the new Mamma was here to stay, and it did grow on me, though it left me surrenderin a level of disobedience she no longer was goin to put up with. I didn’t mind much, it was nice havin someone around who cared.

Sheriff asked his questions and didn’t overstay his welcome. Once dinner was over he reached for his hat he’d given to Dutton to wear. Normally, Ma wouldn’t allow hats at the dinner table but it was a nice distraction for Dutton, seein as he saw the bloated and blue Dead body of his own Pa, probably wide eyed and quite a bit banged up too.

As Sherriff Abel stood from his chair he scanned the room. His eyes went soft like a puppy starin down an axe. Ma studied him quizically. Dutton slurped from his spoon. Sheriff added a smirk to his rather commiseratin face. Wind whistled in from the North side of the house and ruffled the loose shillins just above the back porch. The eerie hiss and creak woke Sheriff from his studious thoughts.

Ma nodded her head towards the small window above the sink, and then scraped her chair against the floor as she stood to see him out. “Rain out here don’t take no prisoner’s. Best you get goin before your body join the swamp.”

Sheriff tilted his hat. “I’ll be in touch, Mrs Wilson.”

“Ms. Wilson. And if you care to eat supper here again you best shave that awful thing off, reminds me too much of him.”

Word got out quick. Ma pulled us from school soon after the summer had ended. This made Dutton happy since the kids gave him a hard time anyways. I put up a bit of a fight but quickly knew there was no winnin when Ma puts her foot down. As for her, she could handle the scrutiny, and catty whispers at the market. We were a poor country family who already kept mostly to ourselves, so Ma didn’t let the concerns of bored citizens uproute her life. Anyway, she found most her time was takin up by home schoolin us. We studied hand-me-down textbooks, math in the mornin, and english in the afternoon. We spent recess chasin each other in the backyard, and catchin flyin and crawlin creatures with fishnets. Ma taught us science on the front porch as the evenin sun shed glistenin fractals upon the river. It was a time where the swamp was most boisterous, making it an ideal settin’ for the study of life.

In the comin’ weeks Sherriff Abel made regular visits. Sometimes he’d ask follow-up questions and give us updates on the case. Other times I was suspicious he was only there for Ma’s cookin. One particular golden evenin, Sheriff Abel came walkin up the grass while we learned about the evolution of a tadpole to a frog. He cupped the top of his cowboy hat with a firm grip of his fingers while supportin it at his hip. His tie was loose and the top button of his brown shirt was undone. He’d shaved his mustache per Ma’s request, makin his disheveled look, more apparent.

“Miss Wilson, there's been a new development. Your husband-“

“Dead husband.”

"It appears he was hit over the head with an object sharp enough to put a large slit right near his left ear, as well as probably sturdy enough to knock him out.”

“Boys, go inside.”

We didn’t argue. We just marched in an orderly fashion and sat at the kitchen table, watchin through the glass door. I left it slightly ajar in hopes Ma wouldn’t notice.

Sheriff pulled somethin from his hat that made Dutton leap from his seat.

“Tonko! Tonko!” He shouted.

“Dutton, quiet yer gunna get us whipped,” I whispered.

“Ms Wilson does this toy truck mean anything to you?”

“I suppose you suspect that to be the murder weapon? A little boy’s truck?”

“This toy truck has your boys name on it. We found it among some water lilies, not far from Fatum bridge.”

“What you tryna say Sheriff? That one a my boys gone killed their father? Lured him atop the bridge, hit him over the head, and then threw him ovah?”

“The body had lots of scratches and bruises. Definite signs of a scuffle.” Sheriff must have noticed a look on Ma’s face. He put his hand up. “I’m not even here with Cuff’s Miss Wilson. Just want to understand some things is all. I would like to know the state of your-of the deceased before he disappeared.”

“He was Wrathful angry.”

“Dutton and Levi, where were they?”

“Probably pretendin’ to be asleep, or they ran off into the woods. Levi takes good care of his brother, knows when he needs watchin’ over. He’s a born protector, my saintly son.”

“Autopsy suggests there was alcohol in his system. Were you and your boys in any danger? You can tell me Miss Wilson.”

Ma’s voice got serious. “And confessin to any danger we’d been in all those years suppose to bring me what? Peace?“

“If you aren’t telling me something you know, it could be worse. It could mean time away from your kids. It could mean jail time.”

“Don’t you slander me with threats away from my boys! I finally got them to myself, outta harms way, outta the hands of a devil. You or nobody else, or no other bullshit judicial system gunna take that away!”

Sheriff sighed. “Remember when you asked me if I ever saw goodness leave someone’s eyes, Miss Wilson?” He bent down to the one wooden step leadin to the porch. He set the truck down and came over to the chair next to Ma. He sat, never breakin eye contact. ”It's the reason I became a police officer. I saw it when I was fifteen, about the same age as Levi. I’ve been doing this long enough to know when the devil plays a big part in a case. Seen it myself, and I see you just wanna live your life in peace, raising these boys the best way you know how. I’m not another man coming to take that away from you. I just want to help.”

They looked at eachother for a while. Ma’s cheeks melted, her eyes went glassy. Somethin oppressin left her chest with a deep sigh. She let out a scream that sent a Great Blue Heron into flight. When the echo of her troubles got lost in the willows, Sheriff Abel softly touched her hand.

“He was gunna kill me. I know it. It was the look in his eyes. The look where only takin a life would satisfy his rageful cravin’s.” Ma broke out in tears. “He dragged me outside. I begged the whole way to that bridge-scraped my knees up real good as he ran my bones through brush and mud. I prayed to a God to come save me, but saw only shadowed trees mockin me. Even then, bein dragged through the mud like a dead hog, I thought of my poor Dutton and Levi, that when he was finished with me, he’d go right back to the house for them boys. As sure as the day turns to night I knew he would!”

Sheriff sat back in his chair and took in the sunset of ash and fire that fell upon the river. Cypress and willow trees swayed in the breeze. Deep in their routes, frogs croaked.

“He took you to the bridge?”

“Yes, I fought him for as long as I could. He chomped his teeth at me like some kind of animal. I was so close-hangin over, watchin the flowin water as it readied to catch me and pull me under.”

“Why’s Mamma cryin?” Asked Dutton

“Shhh.”

Sheriff Abel leaned forward. He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Levi followed us out there. I promise I had no idea. Before I knew what was happenin, Levi was hittin Sawyer over the head with the toy truck. When Sawyer let me go, I saw he was bleedin on his head. He sprung for Levi. I tried bitin him to stop him but he kept grabbin for Levi like some hungry wolf. I rushed towards him with all my strength before he could get a good hold of my boy, my precious boy.” Ma stood up. She walked over to the step and sat down again. She picked up the toy truck and spun one of the wheels with her hand. “He put out a hand and stopped me from shoulderin him over the edge. His hand was around my throat. Then, it was Levi who tackled him into the rail. Shoved him with such great force his body flipped over the edge.”

“What’s wrong with Mamma?” Dutton cried.

“Dutton, quiet. It’s alright.”

There was little talk after mom finished. Most of it I couldn’t decipher, on account of Dutton’s soft sobs. By the time Sheriff stood up again there was a glare on the glass keepin me from seein his face. He stepped off the porch and walked down the yard along the river. I ran to Ma and jumped into her arms. The force of my body almost knocked us both out of the chair. She hugged the stuffin outta me. Sheriff Abel stopped at the river with his hands in his pockets. With my head over Ma’s shoulder, we made eye contact. He tilted his hat and with two fingers, shot them my direction while bowing his head.

“We gunna be in trouble Sherriff?” I asked.

“Seems God made his judgment already.”

He disappeared behind the trees-an evenin mist closin in behind em like a curtain.

A smile stretched across Ma’s face, one Dutton didn’t have to force with his fingers. It was there, where our smiles met, that I knew I’d do anything for her, and her for me.

I suppose sometimes a certain…irreverence brings about the retribution of the devil.