Eddie had never, not answered with a loud bark, to the signal of his master's whistle. He had taught the dog himself how to respond. None of his other brothers had wanted the dog. They all had big hulking brutes that could literally bring down a deer if need be. His siblings had all been ready to drown the dog in the river; when Eddie as a toddler had reached out his hand and gently petted it and said "me, mine."
Eddie's dog was a lot like him, small boned and not much to look at, but he loved that dog with a fierceness that was unrelenting. The dog in turn was his for life. To see the two of them together, a small brown boy with large, wide eyes and a small brown mutt of a dog with a white patch above the right eye was a sight that could gladden the coldest hearts. For little Eddie had nothing, absolutely nothing to call his own, except his dog.
But, nothing Eddie or his dog could ever do would gladden his daddy's heart. With the birth of Eddie, his daddy had lost his world, his wife and Eddie was the cause of that.
Times were hard and lots of things in that day could bring an otherwise healthy woman to her grave, but Eddie's daddy said to this day, "That child came and took my Lizzy away, I can't even stand to look at him."
The only things Eddie had inherited from his mother Lizzy, were a soft heart and his gift. The gift of feeling the presence of spirits. Eddie had never physically felt his mother’s touch, but in his mind he saw her slender brown hand often reaching out to stroke his hair.
EDDIE WAS GROWING CONCERNED. His dog had disappeared, and he didn't know what to do. He knew it was no use going back to the farm and telling any of his brothers or his father. They weren't concerned about the whereabouts of Eddie, and certainly not his dog. This wasn't the first time Eddie and his dog had stayed away past dark.
Once, about a year ago, Eddie the dog had been on the trail of an old possum and sniffing around several trees and bushes had gave chase, and the boy not wanting to give up had run along behind him.
They had run deeper into the woods than ever and spinning around in circles, Eddie had gotten lost. Before he knew what was happening, the sun was setting, and they had gone so far they ended up on someone else's property.
The dog had come back to the boy with his tail dragging and head hung low. He had lost the scent of his quarry. The boy didn't care, he was just happy he had his dog. It didn't matter that they were lost, it was dark, and they were far from home.
Eddie had felt the presence of spirits. Eddie took the chance on the feeling that surrounded him and his dog. Suddenly he knew how to get home, and he let his dog lead them back out of the woods.
When they finally got home after three hours lost in the woods, no one seemed to think anything about it. In fact not a word was said but, "Did you get anything to eat while you and that dog were fooling around out there in them woods?"
NOW, EDDIE WAS CONCERNED. He started walking towards a thick stand of bushes and trees about a hundred feet away. He thought he could just make out in the gathering darkness a figure under the tree. "Is that you Eddie," he called out, "come on boy, let's get outta here, time to go home."
Silence was all he got. The boy raised his gun a little higher. It wasn't easy since he had never actually used it before and wasn't quite sure how to hold it properly.
He did know that you pulled on the little trigger, because he had seen his daddy do that before when they were butchering hogs in the winter time. The gun made the loudest noise he had ever heard, and he jumped where he was standing behind his older brother Willie.
Then his daddy and uncles took the hog and strung it up between two poles and slit its throat. Eddie wanted to cry, but his brother hit him hard in the stomach when he let out a little whimper, and Eddie held it in. He thought his daddy had looked at him and sort of smiled when he did that, and he felt cold all over.
The boy's hand was shaking now and his nerve was deserting him. He didn't see his dog and something was definitely moving back and forth under the tree. He walked a little closer and pointed his gun toward the trees. "Who is dat, over there, come on out, before I shoot."
Eddie had no intention of shooting, but his finger found the little trigger any way, and he stumbled along in the now dim light. A limb or maybe an old tree trunk suddenly tripped him up, and down he went with his finger still on the trigger.
"Bam!" The noise was deafening so close to his ear. He fell over onto his side and lay there shaking and rubbing his leg where it had thrown him up against the tree stump. Limping, he got up from the ground, leaving the shotgun wherever it had fallen and started forward to the thick bushes and trees.
He was less than twenty feet away now and could see better what was happening under the tree. He started limping
