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Rory watched as his father talked to one of the Creekers. This one was a squat man not much taller than Rory. He stood in front of Rory’s dad, his body bent at an odd angle, like a wedge. He looked up at Hank, his raspy voice came through the crisp morning air. “We hoped this’un been good.”

“No. Sorry. I think she’s tapped, Tobias. Maybe the next one,” Hank said flatly. Then looking up and past the bent little man he gave a quick nod and asked, “Is this her? She’s been here before. One of your daughters, right?”

“That’d her,” the Creeker made a sharp move with his whole body pivoting at the waist. Rory thought it was his way of nodding because he obviously had no neck. “She’d be give good’uns in da past. She’d give good again.” Rory cringed at the voice as it cut through his skin and settled in his spine, chilling him to the core. He wished his dad were standing next to him, reassuring him that things would be fine. Rory just wanted to be in bed. He didn’t think his nightmares could get much worse than this.

“She’s going to be dry soon. Not much good after the fifth kid,” Hank said.

“This’d be a good’un. Swears t’ya.” The little man gave Hank an impish grin. “Dis’un be ona mine. Me man seed strong...thick,” he said reaching down and giving his crotch a hard yank. Tobias looked past Hank right at Rory and gave him a quick wink, his broken smile slicing through his face like an angry wound. He then turned his face back up to Hank. “Dis’un take. We’se needs da money. Already kept the three. Need to do my share to gets money.”

Hank shook his head, somewhat disgusted with the man. “Okay, let’s do it.” Then over his shoulder he yelled, “Rory, bring her up.”

The exchange was quick. No more words. As the Creekers disappeared into the darkness of the woods, Rory could see one of the men that had been with Tobias reach out and punch the girl he had just handed over in the side of the head. She stumbled, caught herself and ran forward to avoid another blow.

“What they gonna do to her?” Rory asked.

“None of our business, boy. Creekers do things their own way. Handle their own,” Hank replied coldly. He turned toward the barn took a few steps, stopped and looked at his son.

“Rory?”

Rory was still looking off into the distance as if expecting the woods to suddenly reach out and grab him. “Yeah?”

“Just remember that these women have it hard. Creekers have their ways and treating their women right ain’t one of them. So when the women are here, we take good care of them. Treat them right for a little while. More like a person and less like an animal. Your great grandmother taught her son that and he taught me and now I’m telling you. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Rory decided the woods weren’t going to eat him and he turned to his dad.

“Your momma used to really care for these women. Treated them like they was her own when they was here. Your mom had a kind heart and I know some of that is in you.”

At the mention of his mother, Rory stiffened. He missed her.

The cancer had taken her quickly. It seemed like one day she was there, all smiles and love and the next...gone...her body ravaged by disease and pain. Rory had been sitting with her when she died last year. He had held her frail hand as she lay in the hospital room, the smell of antiseptic filling his head, making him dizzy. She had looked him in the eye, reaching deep down into his heart, smiled and said, “I want you to remember there are some people in this world that need a little kindness. Soon you’ll see what I mean. So you always be kind. Okay?”

Rory was confused, but nodded his head anyway.

“Now I want you to go outside and look at the sky. Look at the sky because I will be there watching you.” She smiled again then closed her eyes. And Rory knew when her grip faltered that it was time to do what she asked. He stood, walked out of the room, past his dad talking to the doctor, and kept going until he was clear of the hospital, clear of the people, clear of the noise and he looked up at the clear sky, one tear falling to his cheek. Rory spent the next four hours walking home knowing that up there, far above, was his mother...watching.

Rory felt his dad’s big hand settle on his shoulder. A look of concern and caring looked down on him. “Let’s get our new guest settled in. She should be good to go in a few days.”
Rory watched his dad and Tobias’ daughter head off toward the light of the barn. And he prayed to God that this baby would come out right. Because he didn’t think he was ready for another trip to the middle of the lake. He thought about the baby he’d thrown out there and how it sank with only a few bubbles rising to the surface of the lake as a sendoff...

“Let’s go, son. We got business to do,” Hank hollered.

...and how when those bubbles burst, Rory could swear he heard the cry of a baby.

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