The Collection

'Get the shotgun,' Momma said quietly.

I ran into the house and grabbed the gun out of Daddy's closet. I ran back out and gave it to Momma. She loaded it up and pointed it at Robert without no hesitation.

We could see him pretty clear now. He was halfway across the clearing and the lights from the house sort of lit up his face. He was still staggering around and walking like he was drunk and he was still carrying his line of fish. His face looked real white, like Daddy's face, and he didn't seem to even see us standing there on the porch. Petey was calling out to him-Petey was too young, he didn't really know what was going on-and Junior was holding him back.

Robert stopped about ten yards away from the house and waved. His wave was real slow, real strange. 'Hey, Momma!' he said, and his voice was strange, too. 'Look what I got.'

Momma kept the gun trained on him. 'Don't you come any closer,' she said.

He shook his head. 'Momma ...'

'If I'm still your momma you'll wait there for me 'til dawn. If you're still there come morning you'll be welcome back. But until then you just stop and wait right there.'

He took a step forward. 'Aw, Momma-'

The gunshot blew his head clean off. His face just ex­ploded in on itself and little pieces of blood and bone and eye went flying every which way. Petey started screaming and the rest of us watched while Robert fell onto the meadow grass. His hand was still holding onto the fish line. Momma reloaded the gun and aimed it at the center of his body just in case, but he didn't move. His body just lay there, the mash of skin that used to be his head bleeding into the grass.

We stayed on the porch all night. Petey, Junior, and Sissy fell asleep a little while later and I fell asleep about halfway through the night, but Momma stayed awake the whole time.

After the sun came up, we all went out in the clearing to look.

There was nothing there. His body was gone.

Momma spent that morning explaining things to Petey.

We waited on the porch again that night, eating supper  f early and standing out there before it started to get dark. Sure enough, he started staggering up the path about the | same time he had last night. There was nothing we could do this time, so we just stood there huddled together and watched.

'Robert Paul's come home,' he said, and his voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well. 'Robert Paul's come home again.' We could see his grin even from this far away.

When he got to the spot where Momma'd shot him, he stopped.

And his head exploded.

He fell onto the ground just like before, and in the morn­ing he was gone.

We went out to the spot. The grass was trampled and brown and looked like it'd been burned. 'That's all,' Momma said, kicking the spot with her shoe. 'It's over now.'

But I knew it wasn't. I could tell. I could feel it in my bones. I knew that we'd have to do the same thing we did for Daddy. And I was scared.

Scared bad.

That was one of them weird days when everything was backwards and all the directions was wrong. Our house was suddenly facing south when it'd always faced west, and I stayed close to home. I knew that if I lost sight of the house I wouldn't never get back to it.

It was overcast the whole day, and in the kitchen things broke for no reason. Momma'd walk out to the living room for a minute to talk to one of us kids and when she'd go back into the kitchen all the silverware would be poured out on the floor or one of her good dishes would be smashed or

something. She tried to ignore all this, but one time I caught her saying the Prayer to herself when she thought no one was looking.

I said the Prayer, too. I knew what was happening.

After supper we all just sat around and waited for night to fall. We didn't sit on the porch this time. We stayed inside. Sissy closed all the windows and drapes and Junior turned on all the lights.

I was almost asleep when something huge crashed against the north wall of the house. I jerked awake. It sounded like a cannon. Everyone else was wide awake too and Petey was crying. Momma held us all tight. 'Stay here,' she said. 'Don't go near the windows.' She didn't say noth­ing after that and I looked up at her. Her eyes was shut and it looked like she was praying to herself.

Something crashed hard against the wall again, making the whole house shake.

Outside, I could hear voices. It sounded like there was at least six or seven of them out there. Their words was all run­ning together and I couldn't understand what they were say­ing. I plugged my ears and closed my eyes but I could still hear the voices talking inside my head.

And I could feel it when the thing crashed against the wall again.

I fell asleep plugging my ears.

I dreamed about Daddy.

We went to see Mrs. Caffrey the next day. All of us. We went into her little trailer out there by the edge of the lake and waited in the tiny waiting room out front. When she came out she was all dressed up. Momma told her what hap­pened and Mrs. Caffrey prayed over her small bag of bones and threw a handful of sticks onto the table. When she was through she nodded. She held her head in her hands, closed her eyes, and sort of hummed to herself. When she looked up she was staring at me.

I tried to look away but I couldn't.

Mrs. Caffrey reached over and grabbed my arm and I could feel her sharp nails digging into my skin. 'You must go to the bad place,' she said. 'You must go through the rit­ual.' Her voice got real low. 'But be careful. There are many dangers. The woods be dark.'

She let go of me and I ran out of the trailer. I was crying bad. I knew this would happen and I didn't know if I could go through the ritual again.

Mrs. Caffrey came outside a few minutes later and put her arm around me. She opened up her Bible, closed her eyes, put her finger down, and made me read. 'Walk while you have the light,' I read, 'lest the darkness overtake you.'

She closed the Bible, smiled at me, and patted my head. 'It'll be all right, child,' she said. She went back inside to talk to Momma.

No one said nothing on the way home.

It was noon by the time we got back to the house and Momma said there wasn't enough time to do it today, I would have to wait 'til tomorrow.

I was glad.

They came back that night, pounding on the walls and talking in our heads. All us kids sat on the couch together, holding on to each other. Momma pretended like she didn't hear a thing, and she worked on a big sack for me to carry the next day.

I fell asleep listening to the pounding and the voices.

Momma woke me up before it was even light and told me I had to take a bath before I went out. 'You must cleanse yourself,' she said. I took my bath real quietly, but everyone was up by the time I got out of the tub. It was already start­ing to get light out.

Momma gave me the sack and told me to be careful, and I said goodbye to everyone just in case. I didn't spend too long on goodbyes, though, because I couldn't afford to waste no time. I had to get back before dark.

It was overcast again and the sky was covered with solid gray clouds and I couldn't see the sun. I walked down the path through the clearing, past the spot where Momma'd shot Robert, into the woods. Momma packed me a flashlight in my sack and I got it out. I needed it. The woods was dark, real dark, darker even than when I went in for Daddy, and it was completely silent. Usually you can hear the sounds of the lake or someone's car or people talking out by the boat launch, but I couldn't hear nothing. Even the birds was quiet. My footsteps sounded real loud, and I had a headache from my heart pounding and thumping the blood in my head.

I was scared.

It took me about a half an hour to get to the shack. I could feel it before I saw it and I looked in the other direction as I ran past. I didn't want to see them open windows and that black doorway. I didn't want to know what was inside. I made that mistake the last time and I almost didn't get no farther than that, so this time I just looked