ECHO

ECHO

Was a wicked, wintry night, not like no night I
ever knowed.
That wind was thrashin’ me just like
somebody’s whip.
With all that whirling, swirling snow,
I could barely see the road,
But I was trudgin' right on through it
'cause my pickup truck was froze.
I'd drank a taste of gin at Big Ben’s bar,
but that weren’t near enough to stop my
trembin' bones from shiverin’ in the cold.

Weren’t too long before a noisy, yellow pickup
come up on me. By the way it leaned,
I knowed it was my drinkin’ buddy Ned.
I hollered out his name and waved my achin’ arms,
But that fool just went on wheelin’ down the road.
Weren’t no matter. He just stayed a little
further up the way.
When I reached his place, I’d give him holy hell.

The wind kept gettin’ stronger while I dragged
myself along on the blocks of ice that used to
be my feet.
By the time I got to Ned’s, I was seethin’ in my
soul. Hell, he should’a seen me out there in
the cold!

“Open up!” I yelled, and kicked his daggone
door (which was somethin’ else I wound up payin’ for!).
All the sudden I heard rumblin’,
Then a giant mound of snow went to tumblin’
down Ned’s rooftop, and landin’ right on me.
If I wasn’t froze before, I was sure in hell froze now.
“Open up!” I yelled again. “Man, let me in!”

“Who is that?” I heard Ned holler.

“Man, it’s me,” I hollered back. “Let me in.
I’m ‘bout to freeze myself ta’ death!"

First I couldn't hear a whisper,
Then he slowly cracked the door, and I dropped
down on his floor just like a rock.
Hell, he snatched me up and brushed me off,
and throwed me on his sofa,
And I reckon I was better there than not.

“Thank you, Ned,” I said right nicely,
once the house was all secured.
“You ain’t seen me wavin’ at you
when you passed me on the road?
You ain’t seen me out there trudgin’
through the snow?”

He ain’t seen a ‘daggone thing,’ that’s what he said.

I noticed Ned was shakin’ and his face was
swole and red. More than that,
I seen him rubbin' at his hands like they
was itched.
“You ain’t gone and got frost bitten
is ya Ned?”

“Naw, I ain’t,” he answered back like he were mad.

He slipped upstairs and brought me down a
pillow and blanket, and I made myself ta’ home
just like he said. Then he went and got his stash,
and two empty jelly jars, and he poured his’self
a drink and I poured mine.

We was settin’, just a jawin’ ‘bout the women
we done had; ‘bout the brawls in Big Ben’s bar,
and ‘bout Rachel Davis and her big behind.
Weren’t no matter ‘bout no weather,
Me and Ned was feelin’ fine.
Hell, I ain’t never had myself a better time.

Once we drunk up all the liquor we was
sprawled out on the sofa, just relaxin’
to the hummin’ of the heat.
Ned was gone to noddin’ and I were near
‘bout sleep, when I heard somebody bangin'
on the door, somebody yellin’ “I’m gon’ kill ya now,"
and bangin’ on the door just like a fool!

Ned run and got his rifle, and I
cocked my ear and listened to the ruckus,
While the voice from on the outside kept
on yellin’ "I’m gon’ kill ya,
I'm gon' kill ya now, you low down mangy dog!”

“Hell, that sounds like Jessie,” I told Ned.

“Jessie who?”

“Ole’ Jessie Taylor, you know Jessie.
Hell, he stays right down the way from Big
Ben’s bar. You done loaded up yo’ pickup at
his place.”

“Jessie Taylor, Jessie Taylor,” Ned kept
mumblin’, tryin’ to think.

“Just forget it,” I told Ned. “You done had
too much to drink!"

But he kept on talkin’ crazy like he couldn’t
find his mind,
While the door was steady shakin’ from
the poundin’ it was takin’ from the hand
of Jessie Taylor, that was sure.

“Open up, you mangy dog!" he yelled again.

“Let him in,” I said to Ned. “‘fore he busts
on in yo’ place. Then we’s all gon’ freeze ta
death and that’s for sure!”

“Take my rifle,” Ned told me. “Now you stand
here like I’m sayin’,
And you point that rifle right at Jessie’s head.”

“Ain’t no need for this,” I said, tryin’
to keep from bein’ scared.

“You just do like I done told you!” Ned demanded.

So I snatched the thing and said, “Now, go ahead.”

Ned eased on up and hollered through the panel.

“I’m gon’ let you in but don’t you start no mess.
I’m gon’ have my rifle pointed at yo’ head, so
just calm on down before you end up dead.”

It got quiet on the outside,
Couldn't hear nobody breathin',
so Ned creeped on up and turned the daggone knob.
But I reckon I was wrong to make him do it,
‘cause Jessie Taylor swung that door ‘bout
off the hinge!

He barreled in the room just like a roarin'
mountain bear. Hell, I near ‘bout dropped
the rifle on the floor; I ain’t never seen
a man that mad before!

First he kicked the door behind him, then he
started in on Ned. “You done did it now!”
He yelled and shook his head.

“Is you crazy, out your mind?” Ned rushed
and said.

“Shut your mouth, you mangy dog. Don’t you
act like you don’t know how come I’m here.”

“What’s goin’ on?” I said to Jessie. “Why you
out here in this blizzard botherin’ Ned?”

“You ain’t got no business in this,”
Jessie hollered back at me.
"I’m gon’ kill him and that’s all it’s gonna be!"
Then he started in on Ned again,
'fore I could have my say.

“Thought you got away wit’ something,
thought you got yo’self away.
Thought my little gal ain’t seen you.
Well she seen ya, mangy dog.
You ain’t got away wit’ nothing,
You a low down, nasty, smelly, mangy dog!”

I was tryin’ to keep Ned’s rifle pointed
right at Jessie’s head, but I trembled
when I heard what Jessie said.
“What’s he talking ‘bout here, Ned? What
you done wit’ Jessie’s kid?”

Ned looked at me and Jessie glared at him.

“Where was you ‘bout half past seven when
the wind was blowin’ cold, when my little gal
got lost out in the snow, when a filthy,
yellow pickup pulled up on her, grabbed her
up, and drove her in the woods--where was you?”

“You just get on out my place.
I ain’t seen no little gal and I ain’t picked nobody up,
So just take yo’self back home where you belong,
'fore yo’ woman has to sing yo’ funeral song.”

“Didn't you cover her little face wit’ her
blue and yella scarf? Didn’t you lay her
on the front seat of yo’ pickup?
Didn’t you take yo' filthy hand and cover
up her mouth when she tried to get
you off her, mangy dog?
She bit you, mangy dog;
What you got to say 'bout that?”

“What the hell...” I said while Jessie Taylor
kept on accusatin’.

“Didn’t you throw her out yo’ truck?
Didn’t you drive on off, you smelly,
low down dog? Stretch yo’ arms out,
let me see where she done bit ya’.
Hold ‘um out here, ‘fore I blow yo' head
clean off!”

Ned was tremblin’ when he turned and looked
at me like I was Jesus.

“I been here wit’ you all night. Tell him
‘bout it. We been jawin, drinkin’ whiskey,
ain’t that right?”

“Stretch yo’ arms out like he told you,”
That’s what I said to Ned. “We can settle
this without nobody dyin’.”

I expected him to show his’self and git us off
the hook. But instead of doing that, he went to
lyin’. “I been here with you, you tell him
ain't that right."

“We been sittin’ drinkin’ whiskey but we ain’t
been here all night. It were near ‘bout eight
fifteen when I left out Big Ben’s bar, when I
seen you on the road, and I waved at you but
you just wheeled on by. It were twenty minutes
more when I banged on yo’ front door and the
snow from off yo’ rooftop fell on me, and you
let me in and throwed me on yo’ sofa.
We been drinkin’ whiskey, sure.
But it ain’t been ‘bout no earlier than then,
‘bout no earlier than nine o’clock, my friend.”

I reckon Ned was shook,
'cause he knowed I blowed his cover,
so he dropped down on his knees and went to beggin’.

“Jessie, listen. I ain’t thought that little
gal belonged to you. How was I suppose to
know? She was layed out in the snow.
Weren’t my fault ‘cause she was out there
in the cold. All I done was picked her up.
Hell, I carried her in my truck.
I ain’t meant to do no harm.
I were tryin’ to keep her warm.
All I meant to do was rub her little arms!”

I was pissin' mad and I went on and said it.
“So you done yo’ mess and throwed her out yo’
pickup! In the freezin’ cold, you let her out yo’
truck!”

“I ain’t meant to leave her there,
Hell, I just weren't thinkin' clear.
It’s that whiskey. It’s done got a hold on me.
Hell, I gets so drunk sometimes ‘till I cain’t see!”

Jessie Taylor come up on him, put the
shotgun to his head. “You a mangy dog,”
That’s just what Jessie said.

Then I heard the “click” and felt my insides shiver.
Wasn’t nothin’ else to hear,
and weren’t no need to interfere.
So I clenched my teeth and waited for the call.
But Jessie Taylor fooled me. He didn’t follow through.
He could’a done it easy, weren’t nobody there but me.
But instead of killin' Ned, he walked away.

I watched him while he disappeared out in the
freezin’ cold.
Then I turned myself around and looked at Ned.
He was still down on his knees,
but that weren’t enough for me.
Hell, I looked right in his eyes when I lifted
up that rifle, And I shot that filthy dog
right through his head.
I could hear the bullet’s echo go explodin’
through the air. Jessie Taylor heard it too,
and that’s for sure.

Ned was killed, that’s all they know.
Weren’t no footsteps in the snow.
Weren’t no shotgun,
‘cause I throwed it in the river,
'bout 30 miles from town, not too far from
where a yellow, beat-up pickup truck was
found--windows busted out, front seat all cut
up, and a broke up whiskey bottle on the dash.

I ain’t been no saint in life.
Hell, I slept with Jessie’s wife and I ain't
blinked about it twice,
not even when she told me she was caught.
It weren’t worth her lovin’ me,
so we swore to secrecy,
and I let it go without another thought.

Jessie Taylor still don’t know it,
'cause I reckon I don’t show it,
but that little gal is mine and that’s for sure.
He ain’t never come to me and ain’t no reason
why he should,
Me and him, we know ole’ Ned just weren’t no
good.

V. D. Hill