Finding Will Hennie Read online

  Finding Will Hennie

  Joy Redmond

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, events and locations portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  ISBN: 1502442779

  Text Copyright © 2014 by Joy Redmond

  Cover design by Shaelee Michelle Wolfe

  All Rights Reserved

  Dedicated to my eight siblings: Terril, Gary, Dale, Liz, Doug, Tama, Phillip and Judy.

  Chapter One

  The young lad felt a cold rag on his face and he heard a soft whisper, “Wake up, boy. Come on. Ya gotta get up and get outta here.”

  He tried to raise his aching body. He managed to sit up and he realized he was on the floor of the front room. He grabbed both sides of his throbbing head.

  “Come on, boy. Stand up. Hurry!”

  The boy recognized the voice of the lady who called herself Bee; the lady who had kept him in a locked box for as long as he could remember. She was pulling on his arm and lifting him off the floor. The room was spinning. He glanced over to the corner and saw Mean Man lying on the bed. His hearing was muffled but he could make out the sound of snoring.

  As Bee pulled him into the kitchen he felt something running down the right side of his face. He reached up and wiped the trickle. He saw bright red blood on his fingers. His eyes bugging, but Bee clamped her hand over his mouth before he could make a sound. “You hush up,” she said as she hiked up the end of her skirt and wiped his hand, then she pulled something from her dress pocket. “Here. I’ll put this in yer ear. It’ll catch the blood and it’ll be okay.” She stuffed a small wad of cotton into his right ear. “Ya might not be able to hear for a spell, but it’ll be alright. It’ll heal.”

  The boy was disoriented and he was trying to remember what happened. His last memory was seeing Mean Man’s fist coming toward him and feeling a hard knock upside his head, then it was as if somebody turned out the lights and the sounds of the world.

  “I gotta pee,” he whispered, as he tried to run for the backdoor. He felt drunk and he wobbled, but he made it across the floor. Once outside he knew he’d never make it to the outhouse in time. He unzipped his trousers and relieved himself on the ground. He was glad he hadn’t peed in his britches while he was knocked out, and he wondered how long he’d been lying on the floor. He was used to waking up inside his box. He had a metal potty inside his box, and though it was in darkness, he always felt his way around until he found the cold pot.

  He zipped his trousers and headed back inside. He didn’t feel as drunk now, and his ear didn’t hurt as much, but he couldn’t hear out of it. Maybe it was the cotton that was shutting out the sound, he reasoned. As he entered the kitchen again, Bee picked up a long sleeve shirt that was hanging on the back of a chair. Bee was acting strange this morning.

  She had rarely spoken to him his whole life, and she had never been around before when he first woke up. All he knew was the darkness of the box until Bee unlatched it and handed him a biscuit. He was allowed to come out of the box while he ate, but he knew not to make a sound. Bee always had a hard look in her eyes and she seemed to be sickened by the sight of him.

  “Here. Put this shirt on. The sun is just comin’ up and it’s kinda cool outside. When the sun gets high in the sky it’ll get hot. When ya get hot, take off the shirt and use the sleeves to tie it around your waist. When the sun goes down, then ya put it back on,” she whispered. “Sit down. I gotta put some shoes and socks on ya. Yer gonna step on all kinds of shit out there. I know these here shoes are too little, but they’s all ya got, so don’t start no whinin’. “

  He had known better than to whine or complain about anything as far back as he could remember. Why did she think he was going to put up a fuss now? After she had managed to squeeze his feet into the shoes, she reached for a paper bag that was on the table. “I put a couple biscuits and a few pieces of chicken in here fer ya. It ain’t much, but it’s all I got.” She pushed the sack to his chest and he held it tightly. What was going on?

  The only time he was allowed outside was when a woman, who called herself Gram came to see him. She’d hug him, kiss his cheek, and she always said, “I love ya, child. I wish I could come more often but my old bones and joints ache, and it’s a long walk.” He remembered seeing tears in Gram’s eyes. But Gram hadn’t been to see him in a long time. He missed her, and his heart ached.

  He thought for a minute. The last time he’d seen Gram, she seemed to be struggling when she walked, and her breath was coming in gasps. When she was ready to leave that day, she’d held his face with both hands and said, “Gram is feelin’ right poor as of late. I’ll try to get back and see ya, but if’n I don’t come, then you gonna know I done went up to my home in the sky. I’ll be ridin’ on a big ol’ cloud, and all the pain in my body and heart will be gone. I’ll be happy and at peace. So ya be happy fer ya old Gram.” She gasped as if she had run out of air, then she said, “Ya always remember how much Gram loves ya.”

  Bee took his hand and dragged him out of the kitchen, through the room where Mean Man was still asleep, and out the front door. He stumbled as she pulled him down the two steps. “Come on, boy. Ya ain’t got much time.” She pulled him a few feet from the house. Then, she bent down and put her face level with his. “I know I ain’t been much of a ma to ya and ya got good reason to hate me, but I done the best I could. I just ain’t made outta ma stuff. Ya wouldn’t be here at all if that damn coat hanger hadda worked. But it let me down. Just like everything and everybody has all my good-for-nothin’ life. I kept ya locked up ‘cause I had to keep ya safe, and so my friends wouldn’t know nothin’ ‘bout ya. I can’t do that no more. I know yer only gonna remember the bad stuff, but I weren’t all bad. I fed ya. I changed yer wet diaper when ya was a baby, and I never took a hand to ya but one time. I whooped ya ass when ya shit yer britches, but I was tryin’ ta train ya. It only took onced. Most kids get whooped twiced or more.”

  The boy thought he saw her tear-up, which was even stranger. Bee always had a hard, mean look in her eyes when she bothered to look to him at all. What did she mean by bein’ a ma? His brain was spinning as he tried to remember all the things Gram had told him. One day, she’d said, “I’m Bee’s ma, what means she growed in my belly and I give birth to ’er. I’m so sorry I brung her into this world. The only thing good ‘bout it, is you. But I didn’t know ‘bout ya fer a long time.”

  Was Bee trying to tell him that he growed in her belly? Gram had explained how people and animals were made when she had long talks with him. Although much of what she said from time to time hadn’t made sense, he had pieced things together through the years. Most of what he was able to piece together about life was by listening to Bee and her friends talk. He could hear everything from inside his box. Some of the things he heard were scary. Some were funny. Some were just confusing.

  The young boy cocked his head, his hearing still muffled, but he looked at the woman, who was eye level with him and dared to speak what was on his mind. “You always said you was Bee, and you always called me Boy. Ain’t I got a name?”

  Bee slightly tucked her head. “‘Cause tellin’ ya my name was Bee, and me not callin’ ya by a name, you didn’t seem real to me. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

  He reached up and touched Bee’s cheek. “You ain’t always been good to me, but I don’t hate ya. Why do ya hate me?”

  Again, he thought her eyes were misty as she said, “I don’t really hate ya. I hate that damn scum what made ya. His breath smelled like the south end of a polecat, but he paid me good money, so I let him have his way with me. When I told 'im ‘bout a baby in my belly, he beat the hell outta me, and I ain’t seen hide nor h
air out of 'im since. I know it weren’t your fault, but ya look so much like 'im it just plum makes me sick!” She shook her head. “Just go on and forget ya ever knowed me—just like that bastard done.”

  “What was that bastard’s name? I think I need to know.”

  “None of yer never mind. Best ya don’t know nothin’ ‘bout that ol’ shit-ass.”

  “What about that ol’ shit-ass in there on yer bed. Why’d he whoop up on me? I ain’t done nothn’ to’ im. All yer other friends stopped comin’ onced he showed up. They don’t like’ im either. I hate his rotten guts!” He dropped his head for a second, then continued, “though Gram said I weren’t ‘posed to hate nobody.”

  Bee shook her head again. “It ain’t nothin’ you’d understand. Now you listen to me and you listen good. Ya gotta get away from this place. You go up the dirt road. Then you’ll see a gravel road. Ya take it and keep on goin’. Sooner or later a car will come along and give ya a hitch. Ya never tell anybody where ya come from. Never! Ya gotta tell the hitch that you ain’t got no home and ya be lost. They’ll take ya in. If’n the first one don’t, then ya just keep on hitchin’ till one does. Now get! Get on up the road and don’t ever come back. Don’t even look back here!”

  The boy defied Bee for the first time in his life. He stomped his foot and said, “I ain’t gonna move till I get my picture book that Gram give me!”

  “Boy, I ain’t got time to find no book. Now get like I told ya!”

  The boy didn’t budge.

  “Shit! Ya gonna get me in a heap of trouble and get ya’self whooped up on again. Where is the damn book?”

  “In my box!”

  “Yer just askin’ fer it, boy. But I’ll try to find it.” She ran into the house and the boy smiled.

  She ran back outside and opened the front cover of the book. “To Will Hennie. From Gram.” She slammed it shut and sneered.

  “Who’s Will Hennie?” he boldly asked.

  Bee shoved the book to his chest and said, “You. You is Will Hennie.” She turned him by the shoulders and gave him a shove. “Get on up the road. Somebody will find ya. And you don’t ever come back!”

  He hugged the book to his heart and held the sack in his right hand as he started up the dirt road.

  “Run, boy, run!” Bee yelled as if a wild cat would soon be chasing him.

  Will started running as fast as he could make his legs move. He wasn’t used to running, but he like it. When he reached the end of the dirt road he saw a gravel road. The gravel road went in two directions and there was nothing in front of him but woods. He stood for a few minutes, wondering which way he should go. “I reckon it don’t make no difference,” he mumbled as he turned right. His legs had cramps from running, but it felt great being outside, breathing the morning air. He couldn’t remember ever seeing an early morning. Gram always came right before the sun went down because she said she couldn’t walk that far in the heat. When the weather was cold, she came by the time Bee opened the box and handed him his second biscuit.

  He stopped and rubbed his calves and the cramps let up. Then he smiled, and his chest swelled with pride. He had a name. He began a slow walk. He figured he was far enough away from Bee that she wouldn’t know he’d stopped running. And what if she did? What else could she do to him? He was out of her life. And he was glad, but a bit frightened, not knowing where he was, where he was going, or if somebody would find him and take him in.

  The sun was rising higher and its warmth felt good on his face. He had to shield his eyes when he looked upward. He admired the tall trees, the green grass, the birds flying overhead, and although he was a little scared of not knowing where he was supposed to go, he felt a joy inside that he’d never felt before. He was free. No more box.

  He walked for what seemed to be hours, and his stomach began to growl. Sweat was pouring down his face. He set his sack and book on the side of the road, took off his long sleeve shirt, wiped his face, then tied the shirt around his waist. His feet were hurting, so he sat down on the roadside and took off his shoes. He tied them together by the shoestrings and flung them across his left shoulder. He stood again, then walked down into a small ditch with tall, cool grass and opened his sack. He pulled out a biscuit and ate it. He wanted a piece of chicken, but thought he might need to save it for later. He was very thirsty, but Bee hadn’t given him any water. He hoped he’d find a pond up the road. He’d seen pictures in his book with cows drinking from what Gram called a pond. If cows could drink from it, why couldn’t he?

  He climbed out of the ditch and began walking, wondering when a hitch would come by. He continued his travels, his feet and legs hurting, and he didn’t see a pond. To his surprise his thirst went away. When the sun started going down, he began to feel chilled. He saw a large pasture up ahead and it had tall grass. He crawled under the fence, walked a few feet and sat down. He untied his shirt and put it back on. He was tired and he decided he’d rest before he went on. He stretched out in the grass and closed his eyes. It was so wonderful being outside.

  As he lay there, his mind went back in time. He remembered one day when Bee didn’t have company and she had taken him outside, tied one end of a rope around his waist and the other end to a line where she hung clothes. There were no clothes on it and he ran up and down the line until he was exhausted. He remembered his legs were hurting that day, too, so he sat down, braced himself against a post and fell asleep.

  Gram’s words were echoing in his head. “I loved her with all my heart when she was a young’un like you is. Then when she was ‘bout thirteen, she turned wilder than a March hare. She up and runned off with the first boy what offered her a piece of flavored chewing wax. Then she come back home. Then she runned off again. Every time she come back I thought she’d get straight, but she never did. Then one day she took off and didn’t come back.”

  Gram had to have been talking about Bee, he reasoned. He rubbed his eyes and began to feel the peacefulness of sleep wash over him.

  His body jerked and he opened his eyes. It was dark. The sky had no stars but he admired the beautiful clouds. That’s when he remembered the time that Gram had told him about a man who lived in the clouds. She said the man could see him, but he couldn’t see the man. Nobody could. Gram told him that the man in the clouds was always watching over him and if he was ever in trouble or scared, he could just ask the man in the clouds for help, and he was supposed to say thank ya when he finished talking.

  Since it was dark and he wasn’t sure where he was going, he decided it would be best to spend the night right where he was. Maybe he’d get a hitch come morning. He ate a piece of chicken, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He lay flat on his back, hugging the book to his heart, but fear gripped him.

  He stared at a large fluffy cloud, then yelled. “Cloud Man, tell Gram to find Will Hennie. That’s me,” he said, pointing to his chest. He yelled louder as Cloud Man seemed to be a long way up in the sky. “Tell Gram to find me, Will Hennie. Thank ya.”

  Chapter Two

  The morning sun edged Will’s eyelids open. He looked around, not sure where he was. The sun had never awakened him before. Then the previous day came back to him. Tears ran down his face. He wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and looked toward the sky. “I asked ya to tell Gram to find me, but she ain’t here. Maybe I done walked too far and she don’t know which way I went. Since Gram can’t find me, will ya please help me find a hitch, then maybe somebody will give me a home. Bee said they would. Thank ya.”

  After he had talked to Cloud Man, his heart told him that it had all been for nothing. He knew he’d have to figure things out on his own. He pulled himself up from the ground. He looked around, but no car, truck, or person was in sight. He unzipped his trousers and peed. Then he sat back down, opened his sack and ate the last biscuit. His throat was dry and he hoped he would find a pond or a stream somewhere up the road.

  As he stood, he would have sworn, he felt Gram rumple his hair the way she did when she’d
play with him. And sometimes Gram would run her crooked fingers through his hair as he lay in her arms and fell asleep.

  “Gram!” he said. Then he realized he was alone. A warm glow flowed through his body. The same glow he had always felt when Gram held him. Tears rolled as the memories ran through his mind.

  Will wiped his tears as he looked upward. “Cloud Man, I think I know why Gram couldn’t find me. I think she be up there with you. Take care of Gram and tell’ er to look down and I’ll wave at’ er.” Will raised his arm high into the air, waved his hand and said, “Hi, Gram. I love ya! I’ve got the picture book ya give me. I’ll keep it till the day I die and come live in the sky with ya. Save me a cloud beside ya. Thank ya.”

  He untied his shoes and tried to push his feet into them, but the pain was too severe. He gave the shoes a toss. Just as the shoes hit the ground he heard a strange sound, then an animal jumped from the weeds and made its way toward him. “Why, you be a cat. I seen a picture of ya in my book. Yer not the same color but I knows ya be a cat. Gram taught me a few colors but you ain’t no color she taught me. You’s kinda black but not black enough.”

  The cat rubbed against Will’s leg. He picked up the cat and it began to purr. “Ya like me, huh? I like you, too. You can be my friend if ya wanna. I reckon you ain’t got no home neither. Well, just stick with me and maybe we’ll get a hitch and somebody will take us in. That’s all I know to hope fer.”

  Will looked around. “I think I come from that way,” he said, pointing his finger. “I sure be powerful thirsty. I hope we find a pond soon. Are ya ready to get on the way, Cat?”

  The cat kicked and jumped from Will’s arms and took off running.

  “Come back, Cat!” Will ran after the cat. Just as he came to the top of a small hill, he looked down. Cat seemed to be waiting for him. “Why ya wanna go this here way? The road be the other way. Then Will looked across the field and saw the stream. “Water! Ya knowed what I said. Ya be smart as a whip. That’s what Gram used to tell me. C’mon. We’ll get us a drink.”