CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Death and the Cello
"Jesse?"
He fidgeted at the sound of his name, grunting, but not opening his eyes. He didn't want to see the world that was there, it was covered in blood, and mud, and dead things.
"Jesse honey, wake up. You have to listen to me..." Annie was at his shoulders, shaking him awake.
He'd collapsed, fully clothed, on the bed after he'd come in from hauling the horse away. His arms were still covered in his brother's blood, now caked over from the mud that the rain had dredged up. The bottoms of his pants were heavy with dirt, streaking his face, the rain still having not let up.
"Jesse." Annie shook him hard, "wake up, now." And with a cough, he sat up, awkward to find his place on the edge of the bed, rubbing at his eyes with his gore-caked fists, until Annie pulled them away.
The skin around her eyes was red and raw, her eyes shining more so than ever with the big coating of waxy tears renewing their sheen every time she blinked. She gripped in fists together in one hand as she reached up and tried to clean away the stains from his eyes with her thumb.
"Jesse, there's something I need to tell you..."
He jerked his head away from her fingers, not liking the quiver in her voice when she spoke, how low and hollow it sounded.
Annie bent down and kissed his knuckles, smelling his hands and the toil that coated them, trying to hold back the pressing tears. "Something's happened..."
His back became rigid as his jaw clenched tight to his skull. "What happened?" he spoke slowly.
"Your brother's bleeding..." She had to wipe the warm tears away from her cheek, turning loose of his hands again.
Jesse stood up fast, ripping his hands loose from her grip.
"Jesse," she called after him as he turned by the door, facing her with his eyebrows shoveling above his nose. She was curled over herself on the floor, kissing her own hand, the tears coming fast now. "He's not going to make it..."
"You're lying." He didn't believe.
"Why would I lie to you Jesse?" she asked, sniffing back to keep the dribble from her soft pallet.
"You're killing him," he came forward and took her up by the throat. She gave a surprised shriek as he slammed her back against the wall, holding her up by the neck.
Her breath was quick and scared, her hands clawing at his strong fingers, trying to get them to loosen. Her feet kicked against the wall, sometimes hitting his shins, her face terrified.
"Jesse....please stop....stop Jesse.....please..." her words were choked, each breath of air she gave out, the tighter he would curl his hands. "....stop...Jesse....please...." the tears ran down over the backs of his hands, swirling down his dirty arms. The dried mud and blood scathed her soft neck, leaving streaks of red fresh when she struggled.
"He's not dying..." he said, angrily, evenly, a glint in his eyes. "If he dies, you die..."
She couldn't speak anymore, the pressure on her larynx was too great. If he didn't let go soon, she'd pass out. One of her hands went down to her apron, shaking fingers digging through her pockets, the light around her was hemming gray, closing in on Jesse's face, the only thing she could see.
"Stop..." she mouthed, his fingers biting into her spine making her breaths feel sour on her tongue. Then, with a lapse of energy, she pulled up and jabbed her sewing scissors in his forearm.
He cried out as he dropped her to the floor, her hands going toward her throat, protecting it as she coughed back into consciousness.
Jesse looked to the scissors, shoved handle deep into his arm, before he gripped them and ripped them out clean, tossing them at her. They stuck in the wall, dripping blood as he turned to the door once more, heading for his brother.
Charlie and the littlest sister were next to the bed when he came into the room, hiding Frank. Both their heads were bowed, Charlie's hands up as if he were reading, then as Jesse burst through the door, he figured it out.
"What the hell are you doing?" He broke his way through the people, shoving Charlie back against the wall, away from the bed in the midst of a prayer. The book fell from his hands, the binding cracking in half as it hit the floor.
"Jesse." Annie spoke softly, catching up and pushing past her siblings. She reached out to grab his arm, bruising showing on her neck. "There's nothing we can do for him." Her voice was hoarse and thin from the choking, Charlie peering wearily at her, then to Jesse, noticing the wound on his arm.
"The hell you can't," Jesse snuffed and went down next to his brother. "Frank?" He pulled back the covers, revealing the biggest plume of blood Jesse'd ever seen. One that spilt out over the side of the bed and went dripping onto the floor, creating a puddle.
It had been true.
"Hey Jesse..." Frank said weakly, getting a sad smile from Jesse. His voice was so light and wispy; it was as if he were to talk any louder, his blue lips would break. "Looks pretty bad, huh?" He grunted, a pain going through him as he tried to turn onto his side, but didn't make it.
Jesse shook his head, but Frank knew he was lying, from the tears coming forward in his eyes, his body quivering.
"It feels worse..." and Frank smiled and hitched again and wheezed, his eyes trying to close on him. "All I asked for was to get a few bullets out of me...not the whole spit shine deal..." Frank seemed to sink deeper into the bed as he let out a heavy painful sigh, his eyes finally winning and closing. "The whole Bible thing's a bit much, don't you think?..."
Jesse's lip trembled as he squeezed Frank's hand, wanting a squeeze back that would never come. Instead, Frank's hand went up and grabbed hold of his collar, bringing Jesse's ear down next to his lips.
"I'm gonna take good care of ma for you, alright?" Frank whispered like it was being pushed out of him by a pile of railroad ties on his chest. And with his last bit of strength, he flung his arm up another inch and cupped the side of Jesse's face, smiling at it once more, before it slid away, splashing into his own blood puddle.
Jesse rocked back as if he'd taken a blow to the gut, landing on his rump, as a shaking hand went up to his head. Tears welled in his eyes as he grabbed a fistful of his hair, staring at his brother's pale face. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe.
"Jesse?" the words were whispered, but they struck him like a thunderclap and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Hurtling to his feet he crashed backward into the wall, clattering plates, his hand still at his skull, holding his hair.
His knees tried to buckle on him and he sunk some before righting himself, his shoulders and his arms shaking until he looked at his brother once more. His mouth lax, his lips blue, his eyes closed...
He had to get out of here.
He sprinted across the room, faster than he ever thought he could move and vaulted clean over the railing around the steps. He went down the stairs five at a time and broke out into the hallway of the house, turning hard and sliding around corners. One corner he almost crashed into the Colonel. Who raised his cane to give Jesse a swat, but missed entirely.
"Jesse!" Charlie was chasing after him, but he would never catch up.
Before he realized it he was sprinting full speed down the lane, veering towards the barn.
He threw his shoulder into the door, full force, the wood around the lock cracking clean off as the doors screamed open, getting surprised shrieks from the horses and a nasty squawk from the chickens.
He looked to the first hose in the stable, a tall golden horse with a pale, ghostlike face and wide blue eyes. It was one of the horses that they'd used to move Jesse's, still fixed with a bit and reigns, stamping as Jesse came towards it. It was a beautiful horse, his horse now.
He flung the gate open, the horse shaking its head and stamping back when Jesse came forward so fast, shaken. His hair was plastered flat to his head from the rain, the weather having cleaned some of the grime from his clothes.
He jumped with one foot against the wall, propelling him, as he flipped around and landed cleanly with his legs around the horse's saddleless back, taking up the reigns and giving them a slap.
The horse kicked out of its barracks, blowing milk through its nostrils as Jesse's tight thighs rode its flanks.
The doors exploded outward, sending a firework display of molting, tumbling, screaming chickens at the horse's hard hooves as it burst through the door, jerked down the lane, away from the house.
"Where are you going?!" Charlie called after him, his shirt sticking to his body as the rain pounded his shoulders, bringing his foot chase to a halt.
But he didn't turn back, only pointed the horse back to Black Hawk, his arm bleeding, his mind spinning, and the horse's body horizontal between his knees.
He left his dead brother behind, left the girls huddled up on the porch, and left Charlie standing in the rain.
"Jesse?"
He fidgeted at the sound of his name, grunting, but not opening his eyes. He didn't want to see the world that was there, it was covered in blood, and mud, and dead things.
"Jesse honey, wake up. You have to listen to me..." Annie was at his shoulders, shaking him awake.
He'd collapsed, fully clothed, on the bed after he'd come in from hauling the horse away. His arms were still covered in his brother's blood, now caked over from the mud that the rain had dredged up. The bottoms of his pants were heavy with dirt, streaking his face, the rain still having not let up.
"Jesse." Annie shook him hard, "wake up, now." And with a cough, he sat up, awkward to find his place on the edge of the bed, rubbing at his eyes with his gore-caked fists, until Annie pulled them away.
The skin around her eyes was red and raw, her eyes shining more so than ever with the big coating of waxy tears renewing their sheen every time she blinked. She gripped in fists together in one hand as she reached up and tried to clean away the stains from his eyes with her thumb.
"Jesse, there's something I need to tell you..."
He jerked his head away from her fingers, not liking the quiver in her voice when she spoke, how low and hollow it sounded.
Annie bent down and kissed his knuckles, smelling his hands and the toil that coated them, trying to hold back the pressing tears. "Something's happened..."
His back became rigid as his jaw clenched tight to his skull. "What happened?" he spoke slowly.
"Your brother's bleeding..." She had to wipe the warm tears away from her cheek, turning loose of his hands again.
Jesse stood up fast, ripping his hands loose from her grip.
"Jesse," she called after him as he turned by the door, facing her with his eyebrows shoveling above his nose. She was curled over herself on the floor, kissing her own hand, the tears coming fast now. "He's not going to make it..."
"You're lying." He didn't believe.
"Why would I lie to you Jesse?" she asked, sniffing back to keep the dribble from her soft pallet.
"You're killing him," he came forward and took her up by the throat. She gave a surprised shriek as he slammed her back against the wall, holding her up by the neck.
Her breath was quick and scared, her hands clawing at his strong fingers, trying to get them to loosen. Her feet kicked against the wall, sometimes hitting his shins, her face terrified.
"Jesse....please stop....stop Jesse.....please..." her words were choked, each breath of air she gave out, the tighter he would curl his hands. "....stop...Jesse....please...." the tears ran down over the backs of his hands, swirling down his dirty arms. The dried mud and blood scathed her soft neck, leaving streaks of red fresh when she struggled.
"He's not dying..." he said, angrily, evenly, a glint in his eyes. "If he dies, you die..."
She couldn't speak anymore, the pressure on her larynx was too great. If he didn't let go soon, she'd pass out. One of her hands went down to her apron, shaking fingers digging through her pockets, the light around her was hemming gray, closing in on Jesse's face, the only thing she could see.
"Stop..." she mouthed, his fingers biting into her spine making her breaths feel sour on her tongue. Then, with a lapse of energy, she pulled up and jabbed her sewing scissors in his forearm.
He cried out as he dropped her to the floor, her hands going toward her throat, protecting it as she coughed back into consciousness.
Jesse looked to the scissors, shoved handle deep into his arm, before he gripped them and ripped them out clean, tossing them at her. They stuck in the wall, dripping blood as he turned to the door once more, heading for his brother.
Charlie and the littlest sister were next to the bed when he came into the room, hiding Frank. Both their heads were bowed, Charlie's hands up as if he were reading, then as Jesse burst through the door, he figured it out.
"What the hell are you doing?" He broke his way through the people, shoving Charlie back against the wall, away from the bed in the midst of a prayer. The book fell from his hands, the binding cracking in half as it hit the floor.
"Jesse." Annie spoke softly, catching up and pushing past her siblings. She reached out to grab his arm, bruising showing on her neck. "There's nothing we can do for him." Her voice was hoarse and thin from the choking, Charlie peering wearily at her, then to Jesse, noticing the wound on his arm.
"The hell you can't," Jesse snuffed and went down next to his brother. "Frank?" He pulled back the covers, revealing the biggest plume of blood Jesse'd ever seen. One that spilt out over the side of the bed and went dripping onto the floor, creating a puddle.
It had been true.
"Hey Jesse..." Frank said weakly, getting a sad smile from Jesse. His voice was so light and wispy; it was as if he were to talk any louder, his blue lips would break. "Looks pretty bad, huh?" He grunted, a pain going through him as he tried to turn onto his side, but didn't make it.
Jesse shook his head, but Frank knew he was lying, from the tears coming forward in his eyes, his body quivering.
"It feels worse..." and Frank smiled and hitched again and wheezed, his eyes trying to close on him. "All I asked for was to get a few bullets out of me...not the whole spit shine deal..." Frank seemed to sink deeper into the bed as he let out a heavy painful sigh, his eyes finally winning and closing. "The whole Bible thing's a bit much, don't you think?..."
Jesse's lip trembled as he squeezed Frank's hand, wanting a squeeze back that would never come. Instead, Frank's hand went up and grabbed hold of his collar, bringing Jesse's ear down next to his lips.
"I'm gonna take good care of ma for you, alright?" Frank whispered like it was being pushed out of him by a pile of railroad ties on his chest. And with his last bit of strength, he flung his arm up another inch and cupped the side of Jesse's face, smiling at it once more, before it slid away, splashing into his own blood puddle.
Jesse rocked back as if he'd taken a blow to the gut, landing on his rump, as a shaking hand went up to his head. Tears welled in his eyes as he grabbed a fistful of his hair, staring at his brother's pale face. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe.
"Jesse?" the words were whispered, but they struck him like a thunderclap and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Hurtling to his feet he crashed backward into the wall, clattering plates, his hand still at his skull, holding his hair.
His knees tried to buckle on him and he sunk some before righting himself, his shoulders and his arms shaking until he looked at his brother once more. His mouth lax, his lips blue, his eyes closed...
He had to get out of here.
He sprinted across the room, faster than he ever thought he could move and vaulted clean over the railing around the steps. He went down the stairs five at a time and broke out into the hallway of the house, turning hard and sliding around corners. One corner he almost crashed into the Colonel. Who raised his cane to give Jesse a swat, but missed entirely.
"Jesse!" Charlie was chasing after him, but he would never catch up.
Before he realized it he was sprinting full speed down the lane, veering towards the barn.
He threw his shoulder into the door, full force, the wood around the lock cracking clean off as the doors screamed open, getting surprised shrieks from the horses and a nasty squawk from the chickens.
He looked to the first hose in the stable, a tall golden horse with a pale, ghostlike face and wide blue eyes. It was one of the horses that they'd used to move Jesse's, still fixed with a bit and reigns, stamping as Jesse came towards it. It was a beautiful horse, his horse now.
He flung the gate open, the horse shaking its head and stamping back when Jesse came forward so fast, shaken. His hair was plastered flat to his head from the rain, the weather having cleaned some of the grime from his clothes.
He jumped with one foot against the wall, propelling him, as he flipped around and landed cleanly with his legs around the horse's saddleless back, taking up the reigns and giving them a slap.
The horse kicked out of its barracks, blowing milk through its nostrils as Jesse's tight thighs rode its flanks.
The doors exploded outward, sending a firework display of molting, tumbling, screaming chickens at the horse's hard hooves as it burst through the door, jerked down the lane, away from the house.
"Where are you going?!" Charlie called after him, his shirt sticking to his body as the rain pounded his shoulders, bringing his foot chase to a halt.
But he didn't turn back, only pointed the horse back to Black Hawk, his arm bleeding, his mind spinning, and the horse's body horizontal between his knees.
He left his dead brother behind, left the girls huddled up on the porch, and left Charlie standing in the rain.