The Forsaken

“Yes, sir?” Stagg said, walking into the office, finding the man from Jackson sitting and waiting. Ringold nodded and closed the door behind him.

“Heard you been in Memphis,” the man said. “So I waited.”

Stagg didn’t answer.

“I don’t know how you do it,” said the man, looking strange out of his stiff blue uniform for the Mississippi Highway Patrol. “Them people are animals up there. How you trust them blacks, Joh

“I don’t see how my business is any concern of yours,” Stagg said, not caring one goddamn bit for the man just showing up una

The Trooper smiled, black eyes flicking over Joh

“He’s getting out in a few weeks,” he said. “That’s official from the parole board.”

Stagg leaned forward over his desk. “You sure?”

“It’s a goddamn done deal,” the Trooper said. “Figured you’d want to know straight off. But if you don’t give a shit, hell, I won’t bother you again.”

The Trooper stood.

Stagg made a motion with his hand for him to sit his ass back down. Stagg looked up to Ringold, who raised his eyebrows and leaned against the wall. Ringold smiling a bit because he knew the possibility of this piece of shit getting out of prison had been one of the reasons he’d been hired.

When Ringold removed his jacket, you could see the man’s brightly colored tattoos ru

“But Joh

Stagg swiveled his chair around, looking at Ringold and then back to the Trooper. He could feel himself perspiring up under the red Ole Miss sweater and his face heating up a good bit. He reached into his pant pocket and found the key to his desk, unlocked it, and pulled out two neat stacks of envelopes, all of them postmarked from the Brushy Mountain federal penitentiary in Te

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the Trooper said. “Shit, the parole board would’ve found that pretty damn interesting.”

“Been a good idea if the bullshit he wrote wouldn’t incriminate me, too,” Stagg said. “This man is one of the most cu

“That man sets foot in this place and we can arrest his ass,” the Trooper said. “You got so many friends in Jackson, Stagg. People who owe you favors are waiting in line. This guy makes any trouble, coming after you, and his ass is in jail or shot dead.”

“Y’all don’t get it,” Stagg said, rubbing his temples, standing up, and spitting the mawed toothpick in the trash can. “He doesn’t want to do me harm. He just wants to get back in the saddle and slide into the world he left.”

“And what’s that?” the Trooper said, gri

Stagg looked at him, the pulsing dance music in the bar shaking the thick concrete walls. “You’re sitting right in it,” Stagg said. “Chains LeDoux says he’s coming to take over what’s rightfully his.”

Qui

The old farmhouse was a two-story white box with a tin roof and wide porch facing the curve of a gravel drive. The big colored Christmas lights still up from the holidays shined bright and welcoming as Jason and Hondo raced toward him. He picked up Jason, which got harder to do every day as the boy grew, and walked up to where the women sat. Hondo’s tongue lolled from the side of his mouth as Qui

“Trouble,” Qui

“Why’s it men always think women are talking about them?” Caddy said. “You know, there are a lot more interesting subjects.”

“Like what?” Qui

“Embalming,” Ophelia said. “Miranda Lambert’s new album, and maybe taking a trip Saturday to Tupelo. Jason wanted to go see his Great-uncle Van.”

“Embalming?” Qui

“Been a busy week,” Ophelia said. “Should I expect more business tomorrow?”

“Nope,” Qui

Ophelia had brown eyes and brown hair parted down the middle, cut in kind of a stylish shaggy way when not worn up in a bun. When she worked, she didn’t wear makeup, jewelry, or let her hair down. Working with the dead meant hospital scrubs and rubber gloves and masks, and Qui

She smiled back at Qui

“Grandma’s fixing meat loaf,” Jason said. “You like meat loaf, Uncle Qui

Qui

“Momma says it tastes like shit,” Jason said.

Caddy swatted his little leg, lightly but firm. “Where on earth did you learn to talk like that?”

Jason shrugged, unfazed. Qui

The back field had been turned over, waiting for the spring, lying dormant until after Good Friday and planting time. Jean and Caddy both had a pretty ambitious list for the farm this year. Lots of corn, tomatoes, peppers, and peas. They already had cattle, but his mother wondered if they might get a milk cow, too. Qui

“Who was at the Star?” Ophelia asked.

Qui

Caddy looked up, Jason crawling up into her lap, watching Hondo chase after a brave squirrel who’d come down from a pecan tree. “When can I shoot?” Jason said. “I could shoot that squirrel. Pow. I could knock him outta that tree.”