The Devil Walks in Mattingly by Billy Coffey Read Free Book Online

they made a fine meal.
    “I dunno, Taylor,” he said. “What we goin’ ta town for?” Charlie reached for the can on the table. Taylor watched him grab the illusory second can in his mind before taking hold of the real one. Two yellow crumbs fell from his jowls. “You ain’t been ta town since you was a young’un.”
    “Something, Charlie—’twas no mortal person—came up outta this Holler last night. Came up outta the grove , Charlie. Seen the marks myself, I did. Followed them all night on my hands and knees, leadin’ straight out this Holler town-ward. Meaning me to follow.”
    “What was they? Hoofprints?”
    Taylor shook his head. “Sneakers.”
    Both of them settled into an awed sort of silence that ended when Charlie asked, “Can I see the grove, Taylor?”
    Taylor shook his head. “You know I can’t do that, Charlie.”
    Charlie pursed his lips, leaving the half-finished Twinkie dangling in his hand. “It’s cause I ain’t awake, ain’t it? Because I am, Taylor. Hand t’God.”
    “It is,” Taylor said, “and you ain’t.”
    “So what you wanna do, go down there lookin’ for what came up outta here? Or are you lookin’ for Her?”
    “I’ll find it first,” Taylor said. “It’ll show me Her.”
    “I could find Her,” Charlie said. “You know that’s right, Taylor. All’s I need’s Her name. Shoot, prolly look it up right in the dad-blamed phone book for you.”
    Taylor folded his hand atop the table and talked low and slow, the way a teacher would explain high things to a low pupil. “Charlie, you can’t be privy to my unknowables. That expanse is just too big for you.”
    Charlie folded his hands, mimicking his friend. He stared at the four walls surrounding them. Taylor allowed this, hoping the distraction would help sway Charlie’s mind. Besides, it wouldn’t require much time to take in a cot, a busted mandolin, a fireplace, a shotgun, and a stack of wooden crates. Poking out from the crate on top was the bundle of ginseng Charlie would take with him when he left to sell back in Camden, payment for Taylor’s groceries.
    Taylor opened the book in front of him and covered it with his hand, lest Charlie see. He found a spot that wasn’t really empty and wrote, Charly gona help maybee.
    But Charlie said, “I cain’t do it, Taylor. You go down there, you’re apt to snap. We could get in trouble lookin’ all round for somethin’ you ain’t sure what it is. I been run in five times over in Camden, an’ I done got laid off. I gotta be still.”
    Taylor looked up and asked, “What’d you get laid off for?”
    Charlie slouched. “Took somebody’s microwave they put out. Boss man said it weren’t mine for the havin’, but dear Lord, all’s it was goin’ was on the truck.” He shook his head as though mourning the stupidity of his world. “Who gets fired for takin’ trash?”
    “Reckon a trash man does,” Taylor said. He wrote that down too. “Now look here, Charlie. Camden’s not our end, we got business in Mattingly.”
    Charlie shook his head. “I cain’t.”
    Taylor tried to keep his voice daddy-like and found it near impossible. This was why he’d never taken Charlie to the grove, why Charlie had never been told Her name. Because when you got right down to the center of Charlie Givens, what you found was weakness. Weakness so complete that one could respond with no less than pity.
    “Charlie Givens,” he said, “you ain’t but a worthless nothing.”
    It was as if those words grew teeth when spoken and bit down on Charlie’s ears when heard. His eyes watered. “Don’t go sayin’ that, Taylor.”
    “Now I know that pains.” Taylor laid the pencil down and rested his hand atop Charlie’s, squeezed it, telling him it would all be fine. “But it’s gotta be said. This here’s a place of Truth. And this here being that sort of place, I’m bound to say it. Why, Charlie, you’re no more useful than that busted mandolin against the wall.