Page 76 of Nothing But It All
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JACK
Do you remember that haunted house in Meigs County?” I ask.
Dad chuckles. “Hell yes, I do.”
“A haunted house?” Maddie asks. “What are you talking about?”
The three of us trudge through the forest with empty ice cream buckets in our hands. Dad has used these same buckets for blackberry picking for at least the last thirty years, but probably longer. One is splitting down the side. I tried to toss it in the garbage a few years ago, but like the bucket itself, Dad came apart at the seams.Won’t make that mistake again.
“There was this old house in the middle of a cornfield by my homeplace,” he says. “My dad always said it was haunted, but I figured it was just to keep me and my brothers and sisters away from it. You know how kids do—they mess around and get hurt or in trouble. Probably just wanted us to stay away.”
“Watch your feet, Mads,” I say, moments before she steps in a mess of vines.
“But one day, I don’t know—I must’ve been in my twenties, I had a dog. Named her Mop. She was a good dog, really. Followed me home one day from the stripper hills. I was out there mushroom hunting,and she stayed on my heels all day. I got in the car and she chased me about half a mile or so, so I loaded her up and took her home with me.”
“What happened to her?” Maddie asks.
He shrugs. “She died.”
“Pops!”
“What?” he says, scoffing. “Things don’t live forever, Maddie Moo. Might as well get used to that now.”
My daughter looks at me, horrified. I wink at her in an attempt at calming her down. It does little for her state of mind.
“Back to the haunted house, Dad.”
“Oh, right,” he says, pausing for a rest against a tall tulip poplar tree. “Well, me and Mop were out there, and she nosed around the house. She finally got her courage up and went in. Three, maybe four minutes went by, and that dog raced out of that house like she saw a ghost. Tail between her legs—the whole bit. She jumped in the bed of my truck and wouldn’t get out.”
Maddie’s eyes widen. “What did you do?”
“I got my ass back in the truck and got the hell out of there.”
I chuckle, watching my father tell my daughter the story.
It’s been the same tale since I can remember, varying very little over the years. Dad is full of stories like this, and I grew up wondering if he was full of shit or if he’d had the most exciting life ever. Looking back, it’s probably something in the middle.
Dad groans as he pushes off the tree, stutter-stepping a bit before he finds his balance. My heart leaps, and I reach for him. He swats my hand away.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine. You fucking okay?”
Maddie looks at me. I shake my head at her to leave it be.
“Come on,” he says, plodding deeper into the woods with his walking stick. “The big patch is back here.”
“Pops, Dad and I can go back and get them, if you want.”
Dad stops and looks at me over his shoulder, warning me not to go along with my child. “Your dad will miss all the good ones. Trust me.” He holds my gaze and then starts walking again.
I keep a few steps back from them to watch Dad’s gait. There’s something slightly off, but I can’t make it out exactly.I’m going to get to the bottom of this.
“You got a knife on ya, Jack?” Dad asks.
“Yeah. Why?”
