The Children of Panther Burn

With a marriage license in his pocket and a huge smile on his face, Bully patiently waited until nightfall to go to Sarah's house. In the dark he stood under the tree next to her window and waited until the lamp in Ruth's room was turned off. He executed his plan to the letter. They would go to Reverend Murray's house, and he would perform the marriage in his living room. The preacher had already been paid; it was arranged. He'd already given notice to the ice company that he would be leaving town, going to Detroit. All that remained was for Sarah to come out that front door at 9 p.m. as planned. They would wait until midnight at the old barn outside of town where the girls often met the Mississippi boys. A friend would pick them up in his Ford truck and take them to the train depot. Then it would be a straight shot to Detroit. It was all thought out. Bully waited patiently under the tree as he kept looking at his pocket watch in the moonlight. The time seemed to move so slowly. As he waited, he rehearsed his plan again in his mind; he was sure there were no details left unattended. Then he saw a shadow on the porch. It was Sarah, carrying a suitcase. She ran across the yard, and the two of them hugged each other. Sarah was as giddy as a school girl, laughing quietly and surprised that she had the courage to go this far. "I'm ready,” she said. “I can’t believe I’m doing this!” "The day is going to come when we'll be able to come back to your mother's house and she'll know that she was wrong about me. We won't have to slip around and do things behind her back,” said Bully. "She doesn't mean you any harm; she is just trying to protect me,” said Sarah "It just makes me feel so bad to know that she doesn't think I'm good enough-" Sarah put a finger across his lips and then placed her lips on his and kissed him passionately. He returned her affections as they embraced under the tree. "We need to get out of here right now, before I change my mind. I must be crazy,” said Sarah. "I think we're both a little crazy- about each other,” said Bully. The two of them, holding hands, quietly ran to the end of the lane to Reverend Murray’s house and knocked on the door. He and his wife were standing in the living room waiting for their arrival. The preacher had and idea who Bully would be marrying, but officially he only knew that he had to perform a wedding. When he and his wife saw Sarah, their suspicions were confirmed. The tongues in town would be wagging the next day, as the news spread that Miss Ruth’s pride and joy had eloped. It was a salacious thought, spiced with devilish appeal but Mrs. Murray help but entertain its amusing prosects. "So you're the new bride?" said the wife, surprised. "Yes, Ma'am." "I take it that Ruth doesn't know you are here.” "No, Ma'am." "She's of age. She can give her own consent," said Bully. The minister's wife had a peculiar smile on her face, not scornful or judgmental. Ruth Davis had always remained remote and distant from the other women of Lake Providence. She thought herself above the rest and intermingled with them only when necessity required. It was poetic justice that her daughter's defiance should come in this way. It would bring her down off her high horse. Maybe it was God’s way of bringing judgment upon her for the condescending way she treated the other women of the town. Even the bible condemned such haughty ways and pronounced a prophetic doom, “Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.” Ruth Davis was getting punished by God, this marriage was her condemnation. Anyone who read the bible could see it very plainly. Her husband may have overlooked Ruth Davis’ arrogance because he was a man of God. Mrs. Murray was only the preacher’s wife, not the pastor; she felt she deserved the right to relish this moment. As they prepared to exchange their vows, Ruth awakened to make her stroll through the house as she had done routinely for years, mostly without Sarah noticing her pattern. She didn't trust the Mississippi boys or any other boys with the favors of her daughter, and after hearing the tales of the other girls slipping to the old barn, decided to maintain a regular vigil of her own. For years, there was no reason for concern. However, when she entered her living room, she saw the front door ajar. She rushed up the stairs to check on Sarah and found her bed made and her closet and drawers nearly empty. It soon dawned upon her that Sarah had been kidnapped; it could be nothing else. It must have been that Mississippi hobo; the one who kept looking at Sarah and making eyes at her; the ice man. All of the Greenville boys were just alike; they came across the river picked innocent girls, ravished them and then left them spoiled and pregnant. Ruth quickly moved down the stairs, took off her night gown, and slipped on her dress and shoes. She didn’t have time to comb her hair; she left it wrapped tightly in her night scarf. Under ordinary circumstances, she would never have been seen outside of her house wearing a head rag like a field slave or those without class, but her daughter was gone; civility was secondary. She opened the top drawer of her dresser and retrieved a .45 caliber pistol that she kept for protection; it belonged to Jake. He taught her how to use it when they were first married. She always kept it ready and loaded. Rage bubbled within her as she stormed out of her front door determined to find Sarah. She did not know where to begin so she started knocking on doors. "I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but my daughter Sarah has been kidnapped. Have you seen her?" She asked as she moved from one house to the next. Each door that opened closed without giving her any idea of where that hobo had taken her daughter. If Sarah was missing, most of the neighbors had an idea that she may have eloped with Bully, but none of them would say anything. When Ruth left their doorsteps, their lamps stayed on as they peeped out of their windows and watched her move frantically from house to house. At Reverend Murray’s house, Bully and Sarah talked with the preacher as his wife insisted that they have a cup of hot coffee. Mrs. Murray savored the moment as she watched the young couple, obviously in love and intent on living happily together. Ruth Davis was a fool to interrupt such perfect love, defiant of opposition, strong enough to sustain itself through turmoil; it was the kind of love that many could only dream of, but she saw it on the faces of Bully and Sarah. As she prepared the coffee she thought how sad evil it was of Ruth to try to stop this romance. Her intrusion could only have been inspired by the devil himself. This marriage is her punishment. "Reverend, I came to this town on a freight train. I've worked on the ice truck for two years. I think I've proved that I'm a responsible man., but that's not good enough for Miss Ruth., but one day I'm coming back driving. I'm going to get me some suits. I'll open my own ice company. I'll have people working for me. I'll show her that she was wrong.” "Well, son, sometimes what's on the inside of a man is not always apparent on the outside, especially to a mother. That takes a lot of convincing,” said the preacher. "Bully, you don't have to convince me. I know what you are. I know what you can be. I see what my mother can't see or won't see. You don't have to impress me,” said Sarah. "It ain't you I got to convince.” "In a few minutes, we'll be married, and you won't have to worry about that. We'll leave this town and move on.” "I got dreams, Sarah. I got big dreams. Do you think I plan to work on an ice truck all of my life. I'm going to make me some money, big money. I’m going to put it all in silver dollars and bring it all right back here and show your mother.” "If you never get the first silver dollar, I will always love you.”