Popcorn Thief (12 page)

But where was Gloria? Franklin hadn’t seen her since the
night the creature had passed through him. Mama was back, and Franklin knew
better than to start thinking maybe Gloria had just passed on and was no longer
gonna bother him.

Franklin didn’t want to go around the house, go into Karl’s
field uninvited. But maybe he could use the excuse of the creature to Sheriff
Thompson, that Franklin was worried about Karl, worried for his safety.

As Franklin followed the well-laid brick walkway around the
house into the back, Gloria appeared. She stared at Franklin, then walked away,
through the thick, healthy tomatoes and squash plants, then disappeared into
the rows of corn.

Franklin didn’t want to trespass any more than he had been.
But he knew he was going to have to follow her. He sighed, looking at all the
bounty of Karl’s fields, shaking his head. That man could grow anything. Then
he squared his shoulders and followed Gloria into the field. He had his own
duty to do.

Stalks of corn reached above Franklin’s head. The air
smelled dry and dusty. Green leaves curled gracefully from strong stems. Golden
silks hung on the ends of the cobs. They were almost ready to harvest.

Franklin walked straight back. He knew how easy it was to
get lost in a field: he couldn’t see anything but the corn stalks around him
and the blue sky above.

Gloria appeared again after Franklin walked through three
more rows. He jumped, spooked.

She merely glared at him and pointed him off in a diagonal,
closer to the road.

Franklin wished there was some way to better track where he
was in the field, but these weren’t his fields, wasn’t his crop.

He was gonna get lost for sure.

Still, Franklin went off the direction Gloria pointed. She
corrected him a couple more times.

Franklin was sweating again. The baked earth held in the
heat, and no breeze stirred the leaves. It seemed like there was no end in
sight, just tall stalks of corn, marching to the ends of the earth.

Suddenly, the rows opened up onto a flattened area. It
looked like a mini-twister had hit the earth, swirling the corn in a big circle,
then lifted away.

“What the hell?” Franklin asked, as he walked around it. It
must have been the creature that had scattered the corn this way, that tell-tale
cyclone.

Gloria appeared, her arms pulled tight against her ample
chest. She didn’t look angry for once. Instead, she looked worried. She looked
down at her feet, then back up at Franklin and disappeared again.

Franklin walked over to where Gloria had been standing. A
piece of twisted, thorny vine lay on the ground. It looked like a dried
raspberry vine, covered in both large and small spikes.

Gingerly, Franklin picked it up. It twisted in his hand,
startling him, making him cry out as he dropped it.

It lay still on the ground at his feet.

Was this where Karl had shot the creature? Blown off part of
one of its whips? Is that what had caused this explosion?

Franklin squatted down and looked more closely at the
ground. The stalks had been twisted out of the ground, shredded by the wind. But
it looked like it had happened a long time ago, not just days ago. What had
happened here? Was it an explosion?

Or had this been its nest?

“All right. Stand up slowly. And put your hands where I can
see ’em,”

Karl. Shit.

Franklin raised his hands over his head before he turned
around to face Karl. “What happened here?” Franklin asked calmly, though Karl
held a twelve-gauge double-barrel shotgun aimed right at his face.

“Hell. I should have known it was you, sneaking around
here,” Karl said. He didn’t move the gun an inch away, though, or relax his
stance.

“Is this where you shot at something on Tuesday night?”
Franklin asked. “Maybe filled it with rock salt?”

“I’m not telling you nothing,” Karl declared. “Now move your
ass. Back to the house. I’m calling the cops. Reporting you for trespassing.”

“Karl, you know I ain’t been stealing your crops. And I sure
never made such a hole in your field,” Franklin complained as he walked along
the rows of corn.

Karl didn’t reply, just prodded him with the barrel of his
gun when Franklin slowed down to look over his shoulder.

Not even Gloria was there to help.

Inside the old house, Franklin found not only cobs of corn,
but stalks, too, that had been rooted up and placed next to the dining room
table. The wall of blue ribbons mocked him. Karl was gonna win this year too.
Particularly if Franklin was stuck in jail.

His heart beat hard in his chest, but he wasn’t about to
run. That made no sense. But Karl wasn’t really going to go through with
turning him in, was he? He waited patiently while Karl called the cops.

“There’s something about your fields, Karl,” Franklin said when
Karl hung up, trying to stay calm. “Something that’s attracting the creature.”

“Just shut up,” Karl said.

At least Karl put the gun down. But he stood in the wide
archway between the front hall and the living room, his muscled arms across his
skinny chest, his chin stuck out as belligerent as an ox.

“I ain’t gonna try to run,” Franklin told Karl.

“Like you could,” Karl said disdainfully.

“But I needed to see what had happened. You know that Gloria
led me to that place. I couldn’t have found it on my own. What happened there?”
Franklin asked.

Karl pressed his lips together stubbornly.

“You know that thing came and attacked me, after you shot
it, right? It was a good thing you sent the sheriff out my way. I might’ve
died, if he hadn’t gotten me to the hospital.”

“You and your creatures and your ghosts!” Karl exploded. “I
hate ’em all! Everything was normal until you started competing against me.”

“What do you mean?” Franklin asked, confused.

“I won that blue ribbon prize for years before you got
interested in popping corn,” Karl proclaimed, waving at his wall of ribbons. “I
won it by working harder and smarter than all the other farmers around here, by
tending my fields and making my land the best. Then you came along.”

Franklin was sure that if they’d been outside, Karl would
have spat onto the ground. As it was, his face looked all squinted up, like he’d
kept something bad tasting on his tongue.

“Weird things started happening, right away, that first
year. It was like my field was haunted or something. That part you saw blasted
apart? It’s always been a problem. Corn won’t grow there, or it grows too fast
and gets brittle.”

“It’s gotta be the creature,” Franklin said. “What made it
get so strong suddenly? Why’d it go after Lexine?” He paused, then asked, “Did
that businessman, Earl Jackson, come to see you?”

Karl looked away at first, and Franklin was afraid he
wouldn’t answer. But eventually he turned his head back and said, “Yeah. Stupid
businessman. Wanted to see about renting my fields. He told me he could grow
anything in my fields. Swore up and down that he’d done some kind of analysis,
and that the soil on my land was better than all the other farms. Not just this
county, in all of Kentucky.”

“Is it?” Franklin asked. He knew something was different
about Karl’s fields, that he always had the best yield.

Karl shrugged. “Could be.” He sighed. “I know I worked hard
enough at it. But…I don’t think that was it. I think there was something else
he wanted.”

“The creature’s nest,” Franklin said.

“Would you just shut up about that creature?” Karl said.
Then he paused. “He did ask about Lexine when he was here. Wanted to know if it
was true that she could see spirits. Raise them.”

“Really?” Franklin asked. He—and the cops and everyone
else—had assumed that Earl Jackson had only cared about Lexine’s land. “Lexine
didn’t raise spirits. She tried to calm them.”

“Like I’d know,” Karl said. “He took notes about things in
his little notebook. It looked like it had a leather case around it.”

“I doubt Sheriff Thompson will let me see it,” Franklin said,
musing to himself. “But I could ask if he’s seen it, if there’s a mention of
Lexine and spirits.”

Karl looked at Franklin. “You really do believe in these
ghosts and spirits of yours, don’t you.” He sounded like he pitied Franklin.

“I do,” Franklin said. How could he not believe what he saw?
What he’d felt, those times he’d passed through a being? “And so should you.
You got something in your fields, Karl, that’s killing folks. And a ghost who
might have loved you, who’s trying to stop you from getting killed yourself.”

Karl refused to say another word until the cops showed up.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE HE WENT THROUGH
WITH IT,” Franklin said, looking helplessly at his stained fingertips. Now the
police had his prints.

If they ever printed that corn that had been next to
Lexine’s body, they’d know the prints was his.

“Don’t fret about it,” Darryl said. “Now you’re just part of
the family.” He’d been the one Franklin had called to come and fetch him from
the jail.

The sheriff hadn’t been there. But Franklin had left a note
for him, asking about the journal of Earl Jackson, and if it had mentioned
Lexine or any spirits.

“My bike’s still up at Karl’s house,” Franklin groused as
they walked out of the county jail. “We’re gonna have to stop by and get it.”

“His place is on route sixty-two, right?” Darryl asked.

“Yeah,” Franklin said slowly.

“Well, payback’s a bitch,” Darryl said as he got his shotgun
out from under the seat and hung it in the gun rack in the back window.

“All Karl did was have me arrested for trespassing,”
Franklin said. “There’s no need to go and shoot him.” Maybe Franklin should
have called May, but he’d been afraid all she’d have done for the entire drive
home would be to yell at him.

“Wasn’t him I was gonna hunt for,” Darryl said. “Let’s see
what that creature of yours thinks about being blasted with rock salt.”

“Karl already tried that,” Franklin pointed out. “All he did
was make the thing mad.” He had the scars to prove it.

“Two steps ahead of you, Cuz,” Darryl said with a grin. “It’s
rock salt, laced with antibiotics. If I get a good body shot, may actually kill
it. Now, are you finished with your bellyaching so we can go get this thing?”

Franklin sighed and shook his head. He
knew
this was a bad idea.

He also knew, though, that if he insisted on Darryl driving
him home, all Darryl would do is turn right around and go hunting it on his
own.

“Only for a few hours, say, until sundown,” Franklin said.

“We’ll be home and three beers in by then,” Darryl promised.

* * *

Karl was in his driveway this time when Darryl and Franklin
drove up. He wiped his hands on his rag and picked up a socket wrench as they
got out of Darryl’s truck. “Didn’t get enough of jail?” Karl sneered at
Franklin. He stood loose and ready to fight.

“I left my bike here,” Franklin said.

“I know. I threw it out on the highway,” Karl said.

“You what?” Franklin said. He whirled to go check.

Darryl caught Franklin’s arm. “He’s lying, Cuz,” Darryl
said. “He’s got it stored up here. He was waiting for you to come back and get
it.”

Franklin turned back to Karl. After another long moment,
Karl gave him a huge grin, showing surprisingly white, straight teeth. “You
sure are gullible.”

“You had me arrested,” Franklin pointed out.

“Sheriff said you’d refused to get printed before. I was
just helping him out,” Karl said, still grinning. “That way, I can prove it was
you who stole my corn. Got your fingerprints on file.”

“I ain’t been stealing your corn, Karl,” Franklin said.

“So you say. And what do you want?” Karl asked, addressing
Darryl.

“You go hunting, right?” Darryl asked Karl. “Get your deer
every year, don’t you?”

“Sure,” Karl said easily. “You do, too.”

“I aim to go hunting in your fields for that creature,”
Darryl told Karl. “Can I have your permission to do that?”

Karl looked at Darryl, then at Franklin. “You got him
convinced there’s a thing out there too?”

Darryl rolled up one of his sleeves to show Karl his
bandages. “I know it’s there.”

Karl looked from Franklin to Darryl and back again. “You two
fools are so convinced, I’m not about to stop you. Go waste your time.”

“We have your permission?” Darryl asked again.

“Sure, sure,” Karl said. “I think y’all are crazy, though.”

Darryl walked back to his truck to get his shotgun. After he
came back with it, Franklin turned back to Karl. “You want to come with?”

“I got too many danged things to do,” Karl said heatedly.
“But yeah. I do. Give me a sec.”

Karl disappeared inside the house, then came out, rolling
Franklin’s bicycle, with a shotgun over his own shoulder. “Just in case you two
idiots end up shooting at me.”

Once they got to the field, Darryl crouched down and
smoothed away the dirt at the edge of the corn field.

“What’s he doing?” Karl asked.

“Tracking,” Franklin said.

“Your whole family’s weird,” Karl declared.

Darryl entered the field, with Franklin and Karl on his
heels. Unerringly, Darryl went directly to the nest that Franklin had found
earlier. He circled the area, moving with that grace and speed Franklin had
seen before.

Without warning, Darryl took off running.

“Where the hell’s he going?” Karl asked as he raced after
him.

“No idea,” Franklin said.

Darryl moved effortlessly through the stalks of corn,
flowing into spaces Franklin couldn’t see, while Franklin got slapped in the
face by leaves of corn.

It wasn’t long before they lost him.

“Do you have any idea where he’s going?” Franklin asked
Karl. “Any other weird spots on your property?”

“The only weird thing on my property is you and your
cousin,” Karl said.

A shot rang out.

“This way,” Karl said. “Back toward the house.”

Franklin followed Karl as quickly as he could, trying to
protect his arms and his face from the sharp-edged leaves. Hope filled him.
Maybe they would be home and three beers in by sunset.

Darryl stood alone on the back lawn. He raised his shotgun
triumphantly. “Got it!” he exclaimed.

Franklin looked around the property carefully. He didn’t see
anything there. “Got what?”

“I got it. Solid body hit. I’m sure of it,” Darryl said.

“You’re lying,” Karl said. “You just fired a shot up in the
air.”

“I don’t lie. Not about hunting,” Darryl said coldly.

“Where is it, then?” Franklin asked. He went over to the
spot Darryl pointed to.

Another of those long, brown vines lay twisting on the
ground. “You winged it,” Franklin said, dread filling his gut. “I just hope
there was enough antibiotics to make it go off and lick its wounds, not attack
someone else.”

“Hell yeah,” Darryl said. “I mighta killed it.”

Franklin’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out
and looked at the caller ID.

Ray.

“You didn’t,” Franklin said.

* * *

All three of them piled into the front of Darryl’s truck,
Franklin in the center again. Grim and silent, Darryl sped his way to the
Sorrels’ place. Fortunately, the gate was open.

The creature was still there. Its long whips flayed the
paths Adrianna had made Ray build, sending a hailstorm of sharp stones
everywhere. Fallen branches, twigs, and bark lay twisted on the ground:
Adrianna’s tree men no longer stood. All the artwork was shattered, from the
pressed glass pieces to the mermaid to the pinwheels.

“Shoot it!” Franklin told Darryl.

Darryl fired off a shot as it was disappearing. The shot
passed clean through and imbedded itself in the fence behind it.

Franklin raced over to where Adrianna lay on the ground,
half supported by Ray. “Call an ambulance!” he shouted.

Adrianna’s face was all torn up. One of her arms didn’t seem
to be attached right either. “Help’s on the way,” he told her and Ray. “Hang
on.”

“But it’ll be beautiful on the other side,” Adrianna said
weakly.

“Don’t go,” Ray whispered. “Please, my lady of light. Don’t
leave me.”

“I can’t stay,” Adrianna whispered. She turned her gaze away
from Ray to Franklin. “You must fight it with love. Anything else will kill you
too.”

“No, Miss Adrianna,” Franklin said. “You can’t die. You
can’t let it win.”

“It won’t win. Not while there’s still love in the world,”
Adrianna whispered.

“She was driving it back,” Ray said. “You were so strong.”
He looked up at Franklin. “Then it attacked me.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Adrianna said. “I couldn’t let it get
to you. I lost the love.”

“I can’t lose you,” Ray said.

“You won’t. I’ll still be here, waiting for you,” Adrianna
said. “And…” she paused, blinking, then gave a great exhale.

And she was gone.

* * *

When Sheriff Thompson arrived, he made a beeline for
Franklin and pulled him aside. “What the hell happened?”

The pain of Adrianna’s passing felt like a solid weight,
pressing on Franklin’s lungs, making it hard to breathe. “We went hunting the
thing. Darryl winged it, in Karl Metzger’s fields. So it came here.”

“It came here?” the sheriff asked. “Why?” He still sounded
like he didn’t believe anything Franklin was saying.

Franklin nodded. “The last time Adrianna tried to fight it,
using her power lines, she failed. It ended up being able to suck up a lot of
the power she’d raised, and grew stronger. Maybe it decided to try that again,
see whether she’d make it stronger, heal it.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sheriff Thompson said. “She was
good people.”

“She was,” Franklin said. “The best.”

“You left me a message, asking about Earl Jackson’s
notebook?” the sheriff asked.

Franklin tried to put away his grief. “Yes, sir. According
to Karl, Earl Jackson wasn’t just seeing Lexine about her land. He also was
asking about her abilities, whether she could raise spirits.”

“Is it possible this Earl Jackson brought this thing with
him?”

“That’s what I’ve been wondering. Was it part of him? And
how did it get separated, and start attacking people?” Franklin shook his head.

“Now, I know your cousin was a witch,” the sheriff said.
“Praying to other gods and like that.”

Franklin held onto his temper. It wouldn’t do him no good if
he decked the sheriff. But he was gonna have to walk away if the sheriff kept
talking like that.

“I’ve been going through Earl Jackson’s notebook. There’s incantations
to a goddess Bridget? Spells for demons. Prayers,” the sheriff said.

“I wouldn’t know anything about those,” Franklin said. “But
I know someone who would.”

It wasn’t the best excuse to call Julie, but at least it was
something.

* * *

Franklin showed up for work the next morning at the Kroger.
His uniform scratched over the still healing cuts on his back, and he still
didn’t feel like he was up to full strength. But he couldn’t stay away much
longer, not if he still wanted to have a job.

Charlene pulled Franklin to the side just after his morning
break. They went up to her command center, where the black and white video
screens showed the different parts of the store. Charlene wore her usual
uniform—white shirt, black pants, and a big black belt with lots of
pouches on it. She sat heavily in her chair, crossed her arms over her chest,
and stared at Franklin, still standing in the doorway.

“You been on the police scanner,” she told him. “Too much
for my liking.”

Franklin shrugged. “It weren’t all my fault,” he pointed
out.

“You even got arrested,” she said coldly.

“I still can’t believe Karl Metzger went through with that,”
Franklin complained. “I was trespassing, yes. But it was for a good cause.”

“You’re getting on the wrong side of the law,” Charlene
said. “And as your friend, I have to tell you, that worries me.”

“Charlene, I’m not a criminal,” Franklin protested. Where
was this coming from? Why was she giving him such a hard time?

“There’s been talk of putting you on probation,” she told
him sternly.

“What?” Franklin asked, steamed. “Why would you do that?”
Probation meant something would go in his employee record, and his file with Kroger
was empty. He’d never been cited for being late or not combing his hair or
breaking any of the rules.

“I don’t like what’s been happening,” Charlene warned. “So
you make sure it stops happening.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Franklin said bitterly. He’d thought he and
Charlene were friends. Obviously, he’d been wrong. “Anything else?”

“Franklin, I’m doing this for your own good,” Charlene said.
“You’ll thank me for it, if you get yourself turned around.”

“Yes, ma’am. I gotta go back to work,” Franklin said,
backing up out of the office and going back down to the floor, where he tackled
cleaning out the dried nuts stand.

Why was Charlene being like that? Was it really because of
him being arrested? Or was it something else?

Franklin chewed on the problem all day. Should he go talk to
Charlene? Ask her what was going on? Or had he been as naïve as his cousins
always claimed, and had she never been his friend?

In the end, he decided not to say anything. It would be too
embarrassing for both of them.

Still, at the end of the day, as Franklin was getting ready
to leave, he found Julie waiting for him at the end of checkout lane number
three.

“I didn’t know you was here,” Franklin told Julie as he came
up.

“Really?” Julie asked. “I told the store manager that I was
here to pick you up.”

“Huh. Well, I’ll only be a minute to change,” Franklin said.
When he turned, he saw Charlene standing over near the produce section, staring
at him.

No, staring at
Julie
.

He didn’t know how Charlene had found out about Julie. But
Charlene knew everything about everyone. He should have realized.

And he should have known that Charlene was sweet on him.
Thinking back, it was obvious.

He was the only one who’d ever been allowed up in her
command center.

He’d have to patch up that bridge later.

Right now, he had to get changed and walk up the street to
the sheriff’s office.

* * *

“You think that businessman was calling demons?” Julie asked
as they walked slowly up the hill to the Judicial Center, past the real estate
agency that was in another of the turn-of-the-century store fronts on Main Street.
Twilight approached, and the light had dimmed, but the air still held the heat
of the day.