Part 46 (1/2)

”Huck,” Jim said, ”you ought not go out there. You ain't got no idea what's on that island. I do. I heard more stories than you have, and most of it's way worse than an entire afternoon in church and having to talk to the preacher personal like.”

”Then it's bad,” I said, and I think it was pretty obvious to Becky that I was reconsidering.

Becky took my arm. She pulled herself close. ”Please, Huck. There's no one else to ask. He's your friend. And then there's Joe.”

”Yeah, well, Joe, he's sort of got his own look-out far as I'm concerned,” I said. I admit I said this 'cause I don't care for Joe Harvey much. I ain't got no closer friend than Jim, but me and Tom was friends too, and I didn't like that he'd asked Joe to go with him out there to Dread Island and not me. I probably wouldn't have gone, but a fella likes to be asked.

”Please, Huck,” she said, and now she was so close to me I could smell her, and it was a good smell. Not a stink, mind you, but sweet like strawberries. Even there in the moonlight, her plump, wet lips made me want to kiss them, and I had an urge to reach out and stroke her hair. That was something I wasn't altogether understanding, and it made me feel like I was coming down sick.

Jim looked at me, said, ”Ah, h.e.l.l.”

cd cd Our raft was back where we had been fis.h.i.+ng, so I told Becky to go on home and I'd go look for Tom and Joe, and if I found them, I'd come back and let her know or send Tom to tell her, if he hadn't been ate up by alligators or carried off by mermaids. Not that I believed in mermaids, but there was them said they was out there in the river. But you can't believe every tall tale you hear.

All the while we're walking back to the raft, Jim is trying to talk me out of it.

”Huck, that island is all covered in badness.”

”How would you know? You ain't never been. I mean, I've heard stories, but far as I know, they're just stories.”

I was talking like that to build up my courage; tell the truth, I wasn't so sure they was just tall tales.

Jim shook his head. ”I ain't got to have been. I know someone that's been there for sure. I know more than one.”

I stopped walking. It was like I had been stunned with an ox hammer. Sure, me and Tom had heard a fella say he had been there, but when something come from Jim, it wasn't usually a lie, which isn't something I can say for most folks.

”You ain't never said nothing before about that, so why now?” I said. ”I ain't saying you're making it up 'cause you don't want to go. I ain't saying that. But I'm saying why tell me now? We could have conversated on it before, but now you tell me.”

Jim grabbed my elbow, shook me a little, said, ”Listen here, Huck. I ain't never mentioned it before because if someone tells you that you ought not to do something, then you'll do it. It's a weakness, son. It is.”

I was startled. Jim hadn't never called me son before, and he hadn't never mentioned my weakness. It was a weakness me and Tom shared, and it wasn't something I thought about, and most of the time I just figured I did stuff 'cause I wanted to. But with Jim saying that, and grabbing my arm, calling me son, it just come all over me of a sudden that he was right. Down deep, I knew I had been thinking about going to that island for a long time, and tonight just set me a purpose. It was what them preachers call a revelation.

”Ain't n.o.body goes over there in they right mind, Huck,” Jim said. ”That ole island is all full of haints, they say. And then there's the Brer People.

”Brer People,” I says. ”What in h.e.l.l is that?”

”You ain't heard nothing about the Brer people? Why I know I ain't told you all I know, but it surprises me deep as the river that you ain't at least heard of the Brer people. They done come on this land from time to time and do things, and then go back. Them fellas I know been over there and come back, both of them colored, they ain't been right in they heads since. One of them lost a whole arm, and the other one, he lost his mind, which I figure is some worse than an arm.”

”You sure it's because they went out to Dread Island?”

”Well, they didn't go to Nantucket,” Jim said, like he had some idea where that was, but I knew he didn't. It was just a name he heard and locked onto.

”I don't know neither them to be liars,” Jim said, ”and the one didn't lose his senses said the Brer People was out there, and they was lucky to get away. Said the island was fading when they got back to their boat. When it went away, it darn near pulled them after it. Said it was like a big ole twister on the water, and then it went up in the sky and was gone.”

”A twister?”

”What they said.”

I considered a moment. ”I guess Brer People or not, I got to go.”

”You worried about that Miss Becky,” Jim said, ”and what she thinks?”

”I don't want her upset.”

”I believe that. But you thinking you and her might be together. I know that's what you thinking, 'cause that's what any young, red-blooded, white boy be thinking about Miss Becky. I hope you understand now, I ain't crossing no color lines in my talk here, I'm just talking to a friend.”

”h.e.l.l, I know that,” I said. ”And I don't care about color lines. I done decided if I go to h.e.l.l for not caring about that, at least you and me will be there to talk. I figure too that danged ole writer cheated us out of some money will be there too.”

”Yeah, he done us bad, didn't he?”

”Yeah, but what are these Brer People?”

We had started walking again, and as we did, Jim talked.

”Uncle Remus used to tell about them. He's gone now. Buried for some twenty years, I s'pect. He was a slave. A good man. He knew things ain't n.o.body had an inkling about. He come from Africa, Huck. He was a kind of preacher man, but the G.o.ds he knew, they wasn't no G.o.d of the Bible. It wasn't no Jesus he talked about, until later when he had to talk about Jesus, 'cause the ma.s.sas would beat his a.s.s if he didn't. But he knew about them hoodoo things. Them animals that walked like men. He told about them even to the whites, but he made like they was little stories. I heard them tales when I was a boy, and he told them to me and all the colored folks in a different way.”

”You ain't makin' a d.a.m.n bit of sense, Jim.”

”There's places where they show up. Holes in the sky, Uncle Remus used to say. They come out of them, and they got them some places where they got to stay when they come out of them holes. They can wander some, but they got to get back to their spot a'fore their time runs out. They got 'strictions. That island, it's got the same 'strictions.”

”What's ''strictions'?”

”Ain't exactly sure, but I've heard it said. I think it means there's rules of a sort.”

By this time we had come to the raft and our fis.h.i.+ng lines, which we checked right away. Jim's had a big ole catfish on it.

Jim said, ”Well, if we gonna go to that dadburn island, we might as well go with full bellies. Let's get out our gear and fry these fish up.”

”You're going then?” I said.

Jim sighed. ”I can't let you go out there by yourself. Not to Dread Island. I did something like that I couldn't sleep at night. ”Course, I didn't go, I would at least be around to be without some sleep.”

”Go or don't go, Jim, but I got to. Tom is my friend, and Becky asked me. If it was you, I'd go.”

”Now, Huck, don't be trying to make me feel bad. I done said I'd go.”

”Good then.”

Jim paused and looked out over the river.

”I still don't see it,” Jim said, ”and I'm hoping you just think you do.”

We cooked up those catfish and ate them. When we was done eating, Jim got his magic hairball out of the ditty bag he carried on a rope around his waist. He took a gander at it, trying to divine things. That hairball come from the inside of a cow's stomach, and Jim said it had more mystery in it than women, but was a lot less good to look at. He figured he could see the future in it, and held stock by it.

Jim stuck his big thumbs in it and moved the hair around and eyeballed it some, said, ”It don't look good, Huck.”

”What's that hairball telling you?” I was looking at it, but I didn't see nothing but a big ole wad of hair that the cow had licked off its self and left in its stomach before it got killed and eat up; it smelled like an armpit after a hard day of field work.

Jim pawed around some more, then I seen his face change.

He said, ”We go out there, Huck, someone's gonna die.”