Under the Apple Tree

Under the Apple Tree

 

            We were all just sittin’ around the potbelly stove drinkin’ our coffee when Carl Paxton walked in that mornin’.  It was somewhat of an every day thing for Junior, Clyde, Willie, and myself to meet out at Clyde’s store aroun’ five in the mornin’.  We all like to sit aroun’ and talk about what was goin’ on in town, smoke our tobacco, and drink coffee.  In the winter Clyde would fire up his old potbelly stove and cook us some bacon, biscuits, and red eye gravy.

            There wasn’t ever much trade a goin’ on at Clyde’s since the Piggly Wiggly moved into town.  He had his faithful few so he kept it a runnin’ for ‘em and us.  We all had known each other goin’ on 53 yrs. and in those years we had seen some stuff but nothin’ like we seen that day.  We were in for a helluva day.

            It was the mornin’ of the first big frost.  Junior had just finished given us his reasons why we should vote for Rodney Cook rather than Walter Floyd in the upcoming 1^st District Supervisors race.  His main reason he was politicin’ for Rodney was that was who he worked for.  Junior worked for the county and Rodney Cook was the supervisor at the time.  If Rodney lost, well, Junior lost his job.  That’s how it is here in Mississippi.

            Now we weren’t used to havin’ visitors until aroun’ 7 a.m., so when Carl walked in we were somewhat startled.  Carl was a big fella.  He stood about 6’1” and I would say ‘bout 290lbs.  He was probably bigger than that ‘cause that was his size in the 10^th grade, I remember from the football program.  He used to play guard on both sides of the ball and he was the leading tackler that year.  His nickname was Dozer, ‘cause the tailback loved to run behind him and Carl would bulldoze down anything and everything in his way.  He was the biggest guy to ever play football for Raleigh High.  The strange thing was that his 10^th grade year was his last year to play football and go to school.

            I ain’t so sure why Carl quit school.  I know he wasn’t the smartest Hoss on the Ponderosa but he never failed neither.  Willie said that Carl’s ma made him quit.  Now we were always somewhat leery of the things Willie say ‘cause he was known to stretch the truth and even sometimes flat out lie.  We didn’t think much ‘bout it though knowin’ that Willie was a fisherman.

            When Carl walked in Willie was headin’ to the pisser.  Carl walked to the coolers and got him a Coke.  Now Carl was a hunter.  You can bet that if you could hunt it, Carl had killed it.  Willie says one time that he saw Carl with a truck bed full of Bo weevils.  Willie says he ask’d Carl why the hell he was huntin’ Bo weevils.  Willie said Carl didn’t say anything so he just assum’d Carl wanted a challenge.

            As Carl was givin’ Clyde his nickel for his coke Clyde spoke to ‘im, “been a huntin’ this mornin’ Carl?”

            “Naw!  Why you aks’n?”  Carl seemed bothered that Clyde was askin’ him a question.

            “I just curious.  Noticed you had ya huntin’ clothes on…”

            “Well, ain’t none ya damn business what I’s doin’.”  We’d never seen Carl act like that.

            “Aight Carl.  Didn’t mean to prod.”  Clyde said this and Carl nodded.  Carl was turnin’ to walk out when Junior asked him how his ma was ‘cause he had heard she was sick.

            “She fine.  She ain’t sicks no mo.”  As Carl said this he looked at Junior with a peculiar smile.

            “Glad to hear it.”  Junior replied.

            Carl walked out and Junior followed him to the door and just watched ‘im walk away.  Willie came back from the pisser and ask’d how Carl was doin’.  Clyde said, “Well, it seemed to me he somewhats defensive.  Never seen him act like that before.”  Then I told Willie that Carl’s ma wasn’t sick anymore.  Willie just kinda look’d at me like he didn’t know what I was talkin’ ‘bout.  Then all of a sudden there was this death like silence when we noticed that Junior had turned aroun’ and had this blank stare on his face.

            I finally ask’d Junior what was the matter.  He then ask’d, “Any ya’ll notice anything strange ‘bout Carl?”

            Clyde answered ‘im, “Just he was actin’ mighty peculiar.”  Junior replied, “No!  Ya’ll didn’t notice the bottom of his pants legs and boots?”  None of us had seen what Junior seen.

            “Whadya see Junior?”  Willie finally ask’d

            “Fellas, I can’t speak it for the truth but it looked to me like Carl had blood on his pants legs and boots.”

            All except Willie got up walked over to the door to see if we could still see Carl walkin’ down the road.

            Now Junior was the only one of us who weren’t retired besides Clyde.  Junior had to go on to work that mornin’.  We could tell that Junior was bothered by what he seen but we seen no blood so we tried to convince ‘im that he was just mistaken.

            Truth is that we were all kinda curious about what Junior had seen.  So Willie and myself stayed at Clyde’s store all day thinkin’ and hopin’ that we might see Carl again.  But he never show’d up.

II

            Carl’s Pa passed away when Carl was 16, the same year he quit school.  No one really know’d what happen.  Willie says that it was a heart attack.  That was what was in the obit in the paper as well.  Strangest thing though, there was no funeral.  They didn’t even take the body to the caretaker.  The whole town felt sorry for Carl because he built the coffin, put his daddy in it, dug the hole, and buried his Pa.  To this day Carl and his Ma are the only one’s who know where he’s buried.  Willie says he’s buried out in the backyard under their ole apple tree.

            For the most part the whole town felt sorry for Carl.  We figured not havin’ a Pa and hearin’ some of the rumors ‘bout his Ma had to make for a pretty tough growin’ up.  It had to be tough on the fella hearin’ ya Ma was a messin’ aroun’ with another man, let alone a white man, at least that is what one rumor was.  Strange thing ‘bout that rumor was no one in town had any idée who it was she was messin’ with.  Willie says none them rumors were true.

            There was, right after Carl buried his Pa, an informal investigation into what happened to ole Joe Paxson.  Clyde told us that the sheriff and his men figured it wasn’t a heart attack but that it was related to her messin’ aroun’ with this mystery man.

            “How you know that Clyde?” asked Willie.

            “Willie, they used my store as a meetin’ place and I would overhear ‘em talkin’.  That’s how I know Willie!” replied Clyde.

            “Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me!” Willie replied.  Then he got up and went and looked out the door.

            In all my years I know’d Willie the only time he would take to cussin’ was when he was upset, and when he was upset you didn’t say a word to ‘im.

            This one time I saw Willie get mad and cuss Junior.  Junior didn’t know to shut up and he kept on smartin’ at Willie.  I think it had somethin’ or ‘nother to do with raisin’ chickens.  Well, Willie was so mad, Willie used to raise chickens for a livin’, he went over to Junior’s the next day, grabbed two of Junior’s chickens by the neck, rung their neck, threw ‘em on the ground, and told Junior if he knew how to raise ‘em chickens, go ahead.

            Needless to say, after Willie said “bullshit” Clyde shut up, and I just sat there.  Finally, Willie came and sat down.  The rest of the day we didn’t say a lot amongst ourselves.  That’s until Junior show’d back up.

III

            Now Junior show’d back up at the store ‘bout 5:30 that afternoon.  “Ya’ll seen Carl?” was the first thing Junior ask’d.  We all told him naw and that we hadn’t seen a sight of ‘im.  Then Junior said, “Well I think we oughta go out and pay a visit to the Paxson place.”  This sparked somethin’ in Willie.

            “What the hell you talkin’ ‘bout?  We ain’t got no damn reason to go meddlin’ with Carl ‘n his Ma!” replied Willie.  Clyde and myself looked at each other knowing this was the 2^nd and 3^rd time he cussed today.

            Junior replied, “Willie, I ain’t a wantin’ to meddle.  It’s just that Carl said he hadn’t been a huntin’ this mornin’, got defensive, and had blood on his pants ‘n boots…”

            Willie interrupted Junior, “What the hell does that prove?”

            “I’m just suspicious Willie…”

            “Suspicious my a*s!  Ain’t none our business!  You meddlin’ and I ain’t havin’ no part in it!”  Willie got up and headed for the door.  Junior was clearly upset.

            “Hell Willie, you wasn’t in here while Carl was in here.  You went to the pisser and didn’t come out till he left.  Also, I’d like to know why you so sensitive ‘bout this and defensive of the Paxsons?”

            “Willie turned back aroun’ and looked at Junior with this look we ain’t never seen in his eyes and said, “You sonofabitch!  You don’t worry ‘bout my business nor anyone else’s for that matter.”  Then Willie turned and walked out slamming the door behind ‘im.

Clyde and I just sat there the whole time.  We knew better than to get into this argument.  I ain’t ever heard Willie cuss so much and get so upset. 

            Junior sat down and didn’t say a word.  I told ‘em I just thought Willie was havin’ tough times at home.  They both shook their heads.  In all honesty, I didn’t know what the hell was a goin’ on. 

We sat there for ‘bout forty minutes when Clyde finally asked, “Well?  What are we gonna do?”

            Junior replied, “I’m goin’ to the Paxson’s place.  Things wasn’t right this mornin’ and even if I’m just thinkin’ crazy, better to be safe than sorry.”

            Clyde and I both shook our heads in agreement.  Clyde walked over and lock’d the register and then we all three walked out, Clyde lock’d the door, and we headed three miles out of town to the Paxson’s place.

IV

            All the way there I had this eerie feeling.  The Paxson’s were a different bunch and I had just always kept my distance.  That evening was my first and last visit to the Paxson’s place.  We had decided to walk ‘cause Junior was really suspicious and he didn’t want the noise of a truck givin’ us away.  We finally made it to the driveway and there it was.  I wish I had turned aroun’ that night, I think we all wished it.

            The house stood there.  The house look’d dead to me.  There wasn’t nothin’ happy ‘bout that house.  I asked Junior if we really needed to do this.

            “It wont take long.  I’m just gonna knock, see how things are and leave.” Clyde and I nodded aight to ‘im.  Then Junior surprised us.

            “Ya’ll don’t worry ‘bout a thing.  I brought my .45 just in case.”  As Junior said this he knelt down and pulled this little pistol outta his boot and put it in his pocket.  We didn’t say a word.  Clyde look’d at me and I couldn’t say anythin’.  I was surely scared now.  Then all of a sudden all my fears came true.

            We were just about to step on the porch when Carl walk’d out.  We were backin’ up when the swingin’ screen door slammed behind ‘im.  It scar’d me so I almost fell back’ards.  There he stood with blood all over his shirt, pants, boots, arms, and hands.

            “Hidee fellas!  I know’d ya’ll was a comin’.” Carl said.

            “Carl, we just came to see how ya Ma was doin’!”  Junior said.  We started slowly backin’ up. 

            “I toldya she fine.  Guess ya’ll not believes me.”  Carl’s right arm swung aroun’ and we saw the pistol in his hand.  Then Carl continued, “Well, just so ya’ll knows, my Pa is buried in the backyard under the apple tree.  He used to love to sit with me in his lap and feed me apples.  He fed me apples under that tree all a time.”

            We didn’t know what to say or do.  I saw Junior stick his hand in his pocket and grip his pistol.  I was so scar’d.  Then I remember seein’ Junior and Clyde run toward Carl and then fall to the ground ‘cause it was too late.  Then I saw blood spray and Carl’s body fell limp and dead onto the porch.  I just stood there and watched as Carl Paxson killed himself.

            When Clyde and Junior got up and dusted themselves off I was still just standin’ there.  They finally got my attention ‘cause they walk’d up onto the porch.  When we open’d the door I smelled it.  We all smelled it!  We followed the smell and walk’d to the back bedroom and opened the door.

            I just start’d cryin’ right there.  I couldn’t move.  Junior and Clyde just looked away. 

Everything he said, his anger, his defensiveness, and his cussin’ all made sense.  They both lay there in her bed and all I could think ‘bout was Carl with his Pa under the apple tree.