Mischief In Maggody

"I ain't talking."

You've got to admire spunk. Smiling, I said, "I'm fresh out of dungeons and rats today. Why don't you at least tell me your name? It can't hurt. In fact, I'll bet you have a real pretty name."

"Like shit you do."

Mrs. Jim Bob grabbed the shoulder and gave it a shake hard enough to make brain milkshake. "We will not tolerate that sort of language. Didn't your mother teach you anything at all, you filthy-mouthed heathen?"

"Yeah-not to talk to cops unless'n I wanted the shit beat out of me."

Needless to say (but I'm saying it anyway), that did not sit well with Hizzoner's wife. Only her sense of Christian charity stopped her from following Robin Buchanon's guide to rearing perfectly correct children. She huffed and snorted for a long time, while I studied the child, who was busy studying me right back. "Is your mother missing?" I asked once everybody'd finished doing whatever he/she was doing.

"I du

Mrs. Jim Bob pushed her witness aside. "What happened is that I chanced to find this little heathen rooting through the garbage cans behind the store. I knew at once who he was and demanded to know how he had the audacity to steal right there in broad daylight. Once I'd assured him that he could go to jail for a long spell, not to mention other places for the sin of lying, he said that he and his brothers and sisters had been alone for several days with no food."

The child, who could by now be presumed male, gave me a sly look. "You cain't arrest me, because I didn't take nothing. The old bitch came out afore I could find sumpthin' worth taking. What was in those cans were meaner than gar-broth, anyways."

The old bitch started huffing. "You remember what I said about finding yourself locked in eternal damnation for the sin of cursing? If I hear one more foul word from you, I'm going to wash your mouth out with a bar of soap-and it won't be Ivory, either."

"Fuck you, lady."

We were having real success with this one. I gave Mrs. Jim Bob a wry smile meant to convince her of the futility of the situation (which was about as futile as they get), and said, "Well, I see no point in continuing this. The child is unwilling to make a statement. I can't take any action based on the information we have, so if you'll excuse me, I need to follow the school buses to the county line. We wouldn't want our youth jeopardized by those who fail to stop for school buses." Which would also allow me to breathe through my nose instead of my mouth.

"Don't be absurd. You must go to the cabin and investigate. If the mother is truly missing then you must bring the rest of the heathens back to town."

"I shall presume all that heavy breathing has induced hyperventilation," I said. "Go home and breathe into a paper bag."

"It is your Christian duty. Think of those poor, starving children all alone in the forest."

I stood up and clipped on my beeper. "If it's anyone's Christian duty, Mrs. Jim Bob, it's yours. Feel free to think all you want about those poor, starving children all alone in the forest. Tell this child the story of Hansel and Gretel until you turn blue in the face. But you're crazier than a flea on an elephant if you think I'm going up there, especially on some vague notion that Robin may have taken a hike for a couple of days."

"More'n that," the witness contributed. "And the baby ain't had tit for a long while. He's a-cryin' and a-mewin' all the time."

I glared at the child. "What's your name?"

"Hammet."

"Okay, Hammet," I said through clenched teeth, are you willing to tell me the whole story now? I'm hardly in the mood to sit here all afternoon and drag it out of you one word at a time."

Mrs. Jim Bob nodded as if she had singlehandedly pulled off a damn coup d'état in South America. "Of course Hammet will cooperate with the authorities. He doesn't want to go straight to hell on a freight train, does he?"

"Ain't never been on a train," Hammet muttered. "I heard 'em on t'other side of the ridge, though. How fast do you reckon they can go?"

This whole thing was going too fast for yours truly. "I will listen to the story," I said. "If it seems warranted, I will go so far as to borrow a fourwheel-drive jeep from the sheriff's office and try to find Robin's cabin out there in the middle of nowhere. If she has not returned, I will even fill the backseat with heathens and transport them back to town." I crossed my arms and stared at Mrs. Jim Bob. "Do you have any suggestions as to what I do next?"

She tried to pretend she missed the point. "Why, you do everything possible to find Robin and reunite her with her children."

"And until I find her?" I persisted, not missing a beat. "What do I do with the children until then?"

Mrs. Jim Bob paled. "Why, I'm sure you'll find a nice, warm, safe place for them to stay. They'll need food, beds, and clean clothing, of course, but they won't be any bother once they're fed and…disinfected."

I looked down at Hammet. "See this kind, Christian woman just brimming with charity? She lives way on the top of a hill, in a great big house with lots of bedrooms and bathrooms, and her refrigerator is bigger than the broad side of a barn. Ooh, it's just stuffed full of good things to eat, like meat and 'taters and cookies and ice cream. How would you and all your dear little brothers and sisters like to visit her?"

"I think," Mrs. Jim Bob said in a strangled voice, "that I'd best go see Brother Verber at the Voice Of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall. I feel a sudden need for prayer."

I let her stumble away. Then, after opening the back door and the windows, I sat Hammet across the room and we got down to business.

4

Don't think for a minute that Hammet Buchanon spilled out his little heart to me. For one thing, I wouldn't have bet a dollar that he had one; for another, he was about as credible as a televangelist claiming a hotline to God and requesting help with the phone bill. Hammet finally admitted he and his brothers and sisters had been alone for four or five days, and hadn't had much of anything in the way of vittles. When last seen, their mother was going 'seng hunting. I inquired where her patch was. He shot me a suspicious look and told me it weren't none of my goddamn business. What a cutie.

I considered various responses, then settled for a sigh. "Let's get you something to eat, Hammet. I'll call the sheriff's office to see if we can borrow a four-wheel and run up to the cabin. If your mother's still missing, I suppose we'll bring your siblings back to town and deal with the situation then."

"Ain't got none."

"None of what?" I said absently as I clipped on my beeper.

"Them that you said."

I thought about it for a minute, then realized what he meant. "Siblings are brothers and sisters, Hammet. How about a big, greasy cheeseburger and a glass of milk?"

He didn't budge. "Why ain't they brothers and sisters?"

"It's another word that means brothers and sisters, I said, taking his shoulder strap to propel him toward the door.

"Why din't you jest say brothers and sisters?"

Cursing Mrs. Jim Bob under my breath (although I doubted I used any words not an integral part of the child's vocabulary), I dragged him out the door while explaining that there were often several words that meant the very same thing. I could tell he didn't believe a word of it.

We were still exploring the delicate issue of semantics as we went into Ruby Bee's. The proprietor's mouth fell open as I put Hammet on a bar stool, then hopped up on the next stool and gave her a bright smile. "Why, Arly," she said, "whoever is your little friend here?"

"Hammet Buchanon. He's one of Robin's children, and he's starving. How about a cheeseburger and a glass of milk?"