the rains came.
and the mud.
dang, turtle pelwood thought, i better get on up the road to baxter’s hole.
i ain’t had this good a chance for nigh over a year.
turtle put his boots and britches on.
he strapped his weapon on, and covered himself with an old faded oilskin.
to protect the weapon, not himself.
and headed on out.
the sky was black as night.
there was nobody much on the roads, such as they were, most of the time, but now he expected to find nobody.
just the way he liked it.
because he was a man on a mission.
a mission he had been on for nineteen years..
he had almost despaired the last few years.
times had been dry, and the water in baxter’s hole had gotten low.
with no sign of old reilly.
folks told him, turtle, you ain’t never going to see old reilly again.
ain’t no fish seen in baxter’s hole at all hardly.
that is because old reilly is eating them, turtle would reply, he is getting bigger than ever.
the boys at mock’s store would just laugh -
then why ain’t nobody seen him?
and turtle would say -
because he is afraid to show his ugly face - he knows i am waiting on him.
and the boys, especially sluff bangheart, would laugh even harder.
and turtle would point at the sky -
a mighty rain will come -
we all wish -
and the water will come down and cover the earth making noah’s flood look like a puddle, and old reilly will float to the surface and i will be waiting for him.
sure you will, turtle, sure you will.
and the boys would get tired of riding him and go back to talking about the politicians in the state capital and in washington.
and whittling.
glong cabernathy whittling his endless little statues of president william mckinley.
mckinley had been dead for many a year.
but old reilly was still alive.
swimming in the bottom of baxter’s hole.
and laughing as only a big fish can laugh.
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