There is a lot of bad grammar in here, but there is supposed to be. This is his story and the way he talks. I am putting in the first chapter. Y'all can decide if you want to hear more about The Cotton Man.
The Cotton Man
Further back on Oak Tree Road, just beyond Shadow’s Creek lived the Cotton Man. If you went just a might further you would see his old barn, a couple of sheds, and an apple tree or two, but no cotton. So why was he called the Cotton Man if there was not a sign of cotton?
Grab you a glass of tea, sit back, relax, and we will take a trip to the past. We will travel to a time when the Cotton Man was young and full of life. A time when he was called a name other than the Cotton Man.
Calvin’s Bitter Past
1
“CALVIN, CALVIN? WHERE ARE YOU BOY? YOU BETTER ANSWER ME.” Calvin could hear his pa loud and clear, but he was not about to answer. Not yet anyway. He could tell by his tone that he should stay hid a might longer. Give pa a chance to cool down a bit.
Not that it mattered much. He would still get a wallopin, but nothin near what he would get now. No sir, it was fresh in pa’s mind now. Wouldn’t be no side steppin these licks.
Calvin peeked out from the midst of all the empty tater sacks. Must a been more n two hundred there. They covered him perty good. Ceptin he was bout to sneeze. Pa was headed that way and he was a tryin ta hold that sneeze in.
Well that sneeze run through his lips and passed the fingers that tried to hold it in. It was a loud one too. Spittle landed all over the tater sacks, but that was the least of his worries. He never had time to git up afor pa took his belt and started landing licks all over them tater sacks and him still in em.
“This’ll teach ye to run hide from me, boy.” Was he gonna stop? No. Not yet. Calvin was a cryin now. His garbled voice filled with fear that death was a gonna take him. He had seen that raven a couple a nights ago. That meant death.
Finally, pa’s whoopin arm got tired and he stopped, but his anger was still in his voice. “Git ur butt up and git in that house. “Yer ma has supper ready. I said ye don’t need none, but she insisted.” Pa done a tap, tap, tap on the ground with his broken down old shoes and Calvin tried to move.
Every bit of Calvin’s body hurt. Blood. So much of his blood on them tater sacks he knew fer sure he was a gonna die. As Calvin stood Pa held his belt at the ready, but he decided Calvin had enough…fer now.
Calvin wanted to go to the creek and jump in, wash away the blood, but that would be a risky thing ta do. Specially since Pa kept looking back rather impatiently.
Dragging one foot behind and a limpin on tha other Calvin slowly made it to tha broken down shack they called home. He looked back and a trail of blood followed him.
Ma would yell and scream for messin up her floor, and pa would start all over again cause he disrespected Ma. Ain’t no way he was a gonna win.
He never done nothin in the first place. Old man Joe, from down the road a piece got some new shine. Pa drank ever chance he got, especially when it was free. They sat down and drank fer a spell and he knew what was a comin next. That’s why he ran and hid.
When Pa’s a drinkin he likes ta show his power. Yep. That’s what makes him a real man. The power to hurt people. Not just any people, but Calvin.
The Cotton Man
Further back on Oak Tree Road, just beyond Shadow’s Creek lived the Cotton Man. If you went just a might further you would see his old barn, a couple of sheds, and an apple tree or two, but no cotton. So why was he called the Cotton Man if there was not a sign of cotton?
Grab you a glass of tea, sit back, relax, and we will take a trip to the past. We will travel to a time when the Cotton Man was young and full of life. A time when he was called a name other than the Cotton Man.
Calvin’s Bitter Past
1
“CALVIN, CALVIN? WHERE ARE YOU BOY? YOU BETTER ANSWER ME.” Calvin could hear his pa loud and clear, but he was not about to answer. Not yet anyway. He could tell by his tone that he should stay hid a might longer. Give pa a chance to cool down a bit.
Not that it mattered much. He would still get a wallopin, but nothin near what he would get now. No sir, it was fresh in pa’s mind now. Wouldn’t be no side steppin these licks.
Calvin peeked out from the midst of all the empty tater sacks. Must a been more n two hundred there. They covered him perty good. Ceptin he was bout to sneeze. Pa was headed that way and he was a tryin ta hold that sneeze in.
Well that sneeze run through his lips and passed the fingers that tried to hold it in. It was a loud one too. Spittle landed all over the tater sacks, but that was the least of his worries. He never had time to git up afor pa took his belt and started landing licks all over them tater sacks and him still in em.
“This’ll teach ye to run hide from me, boy.” Was he gonna stop? No. Not yet. Calvin was a cryin now. His garbled voice filled with fear that death was a gonna take him. He had seen that raven a couple a nights ago. That meant death.
Finally, pa’s whoopin arm got tired and he stopped, but his anger was still in his voice. “Git ur butt up and git in that house. “Yer ma has supper ready. I said ye don’t need none, but she insisted.” Pa done a tap, tap, tap on the ground with his broken down old shoes and Calvin tried to move.
Every bit of Calvin’s body hurt. Blood. So much of his blood on them tater sacks he knew fer sure he was a gonna die. As Calvin stood Pa held his belt at the ready, but he decided Calvin had enough…fer now.
Calvin wanted to go to the creek and jump in, wash away the blood, but that would be a risky thing ta do. Specially since Pa kept looking back rather impatiently.
Dragging one foot behind and a limpin on tha other Calvin slowly made it to tha broken down shack they called home. He looked back and a trail of blood followed him.
Ma would yell and scream for messin up her floor, and pa would start all over again cause he disrespected Ma. Ain’t no way he was a gonna win.
He never done nothin in the first place. Old man Joe, from down the road a piece got some new shine. Pa drank ever chance he got, especially when it was free. They sat down and drank fer a spell and he knew what was a comin next. That’s why he ran and hid.
When Pa’s a drinkin he likes ta show his power. Yep. That’s what makes him a real man. The power to hurt people. Not just any people, but Calvin.
Calvin Goes To school
2
Calvin did not have an education. He tried once. Snuck out of the shack just a might afor day break. He was shore pa would still be sleeping off the booze he had the night before. Even ma was probably fast asleep.
Course pa had given her a real purty shiner last night. It ain’t often that pa gives ma, a lickin. It must have been some mighty powerful shine they drank. Yep. For the first time, he knew of, ma had a snootful or two herself.
Calvin crept quietly from the shack a carrying his worn-out shoes. He almost cussed when he stepped on that old chestnut bur. Boy howdy that thang put a hurtin on him, but he remained quiet.
He hobbled the rest of tha way ta school not makin nary another stop. He entered the school room and his brown eyes were bigger n a flyin saucer. Why there was pictures a hangin ever where. He did not know tha words underneath but they was purty places. There was numbers and such, but he did not know any of them.
“Class please be seated,” Well he was a goin to, but all the other children rushed around, knockin him this way and that till he almost fell from the spinnin.
Calvin saw the teacher. Why she was as purty as a ripe peach. It took him a minute to figure she was a talkin ta him. “Sit here.” That was all she said but it was enough. He was in love.
He strutted up to the seat she showed him and gave her a snaggled tooth smile. At one time, he had a full set of teeth, but pa knocked some of em out. They ain’t a gonna come back this time.
She jest kep a talkin to him and he answered what he could. He reckoned he was about ten or eleven, he waten rightly shore. He lived down the road a piece Oak Tree Road, beyond Shadow’s Creek. Well his ma or pa neither one knew he was here. He just wanted to learn. Just a little bit.
Well he waten about to go to school no more. That door busted open and pa yelled, “What do ya think you a doin boy? Ain’t a single chore done and you a wastin your time here.”
Pa didn’t care that all them young’uns and that purty teacher was a watchin. He just grabbed Calvin by tha ear and jerked him up from that chair. All eyes was a starin at them as they stormed out of tha school room.
Folks out in tha street just stared and Calvin nearly busted into tears. Ain’t nobody a gonna help him. Nobody gonna rescue him from his mean ole pa. He did not think all families were like his. Why that purty teacher was nice. And all them young’uns shined in purty clothes. Why did he have ta be treated so mean?
He wanted ta cry but he didn’t. He just knew that someday he would be growed and pa better watch his step. Ma too. Cause she let it happen and lots of time she was the reason for it.
After pa let go his ear he rubbed it a time or two then went about his chores. He cried then. Nobody was around and he cried. He shore wish he could do some learnin, but he knew it would not do any good to go again. Besides all them young’uns was a probably laughin at him by now. Callin him retard and stuff such as that.
He would show them all. Yep someday.
Calvin makes a friend
3
Calvin heard a rustling in the bushes then a whimper. He got down on his belly and crawled like a snake in the grass. What kinda critter made a noise such as that? He saw a little black nose stickin out from under a brush pile, but still could make no heads ner tails of what manner of critter.
What if it were one of them mad coons? Skunk maybe? Calvin shivered. Oh, the smell of them buggers was horrible. Maybe this was not such a good thing ta do.
Slowly Calvin began to ease his way backards. Pa would kill him three times fer getting skunk spray on him. Ma would just look at him and shake her head and send him back outside. No supper, no bed, just a sleepin under the stars. Why he would not have nary a blanket neither.
He heard a slight noise and cocked his head to the side. Ain’t no skunk. Not a soundin like that. He stopped movin and the noise stopped also. Calvin’s curiosity was gittin the better of him. Oh, shoot. He started a movin forwards agin and tha weeds started a shiverin and a shakin, and a fallin this way and that.
Calvin jumped up and took off a runnin. He could hear tha critter a runnin behind him. It was a chasin him down. Tha faster he run the faster the critter got. He wanted ta go to tha house but pa would wallop him good for bringin a strange critter.
“Dang it all,” Calvin yelled as his head hit the ground hard. Gosh darn log donen tripped him up and now that ole critter was a gonna eat him. He closed his eyes as the critter landed on his belly knockin the wind right out of him.
Ewww was it a gonna taste him afor he eat him. That there critter was a slobberin all over Calvin. Openin his eyes he saw the purtiest big brown eyes he had ever seed. A puppy dog. Calvin almost laughed aloud. He had been afeared of a little ole puppy dog.
It was a mite skinny. Looked like he forgot to eat. Or maybe, like Calvin he ain’t got nobody. Calvin smiled and sat up. He started a rubbing on the puppy dog and that puppy shore did like it.
Calvin had no id what to feed the critter. Ma and pa both kept a close eye on that food. Then it came to him. He snuck to tha garden and crossed his fingers that tha puppy would be quiet…and he was.
Three carrots and a red mater. He runned back to tha brush pile and sitting down tried ta feed the puppy. That ole mangy mutt would have none of it. Calvin tried and tried, but he just would not eat it.
Tha sun was high in the sky so Calvin figured ma and pa was a nappin now. Leastways that is what they called it. They shore snored awful funny like. He ran like a mad critter passed the house then slowed down.
The old cotton barn was just up the path a ways and the bee hives close by. He found pa’s garb and suited up. Pa was a gonna kill him for shore ifn he ever found out. He pulled some honey out bees flyin out with it. They never come out when pa did it.
That ole pup was a caterwaulin. Them bees was a stingin him good. He took off a runnin through tha woods and Calvin finally got the bees settled. An old tin can lay on that ground and he dribbled that honey in it. He took off pa’s garb and hung it back up.
Poor old puppy was a whimperin and a whining but he shore laid inta that honey. Calvin rolled the carrots and mater in tha honey. Tasted purty good.
They both got full in their bellies and Calvin fell asleep. The pup snuggled up next to him.
And Then
Chapter 4
That little ole pup follered Calvin many days. Calvin wadnt rightly shore how many cause he did not keep track. The pup growed and he growed. He thought about givin the pup a name, but he never did. Like all good things he was skeered that it would leave him or even worse, pa would find him.
He found a bunch a old rags and made the pup a bed under that same old brush pile where he first found him. Old pup tried to foller Calvin a couple times, but Calvin shooed him back. He had to stay away from pa. He just had too.
A few days before Calvin had swiped a hole jar full of honey and hid it. It was gittin to dangerous to put on the garb ever day. Soon enough he would get caught and boy howdy what a beatin that would be.
He had just finished pickin some cotton and a putting it in the cotton shed when he heard the awfulest commotion.
“What in tarnation is goin on here?” A loud bellow follered and he heard Old Pup give a scared yelp. Calvin ran from the cotton shed in time to see pa kick old pup clear across the yard. Before old pup could git up pa was over there a kickin and a screamin.
Calvin was a runnin as fast as his legs could carry him. He was a screamin, “No pa. Stop.” He reached pa and pa backhanded him. He fell beside old pup. Old pup was hurt bad. His brown eyes was almost closed and tears came a rollin down his face. Then he shut his eyes and did not breathe another lick.
“That’ll teach them critters to stay outa my honey.” He gave Calvin one more swift kick just because. Pa never said nary a word after that just turned and went back ta tha house leavin Calvin alone with old pup.
Calvin cried like a wee little baby. He had gotten attached to old pup and now he was dead. Bruised, battered, and bloody. It did not even look like old pup anymore. Pickin old pup up Calvin took him to the cotton shed.
It did not matter ta him that blood was a gittin all over that cotton. No siree. Nuthin mattered anymore. He gently laid old pup on tha fluffiest pile of cotton there was and lay down beside him. He cried and cried some more. Then he slept. And with the sleep came tha dream.
Seeking Solace
Chapter 5
Calvin laughed himself awake. He reckoned it was laughter anyways. The cotton. Yep. That was the answer. He could keep Little Pup forever.
He jumped up from the pile of cotton and looked around. There was nuthin in here that he could use but he would get some stuff.
The cotton was a bloody mess, but it did not rightly matter now. It was gonna be used directly. He left Little pup lying on his soft bed a cotton and peaked his head outa tha cotton shed.
He could see pa out a pickin cotton. He was a grumbling something about weavils and such, but Calvin did not care. Leastways not anymore. He knowed what ta do now. He wadnt skeered nomore.
His hip was a mite sore and he had a hard time a walkin, but he hobbled along whistling a happy tune. Pa heard him and looked his way, but Calvin just a kept on a walkin. He almost stopped when pa hollered fer him. Almost. But that old dream he had kept him a goin.
Calvin reached pa’s gear for the bee hive and put it on. Here come pa. Calvin took off a runnin, but not from pa. No siree. He was a runnin for that bee hive. He made it just afor pa reached him.
Calvin opened up tha hive and reached his hand in there makin them bees plumb mad. Honey drippin off his glove he headed for pa, tha bees a follerin. Calvin rubbed honey all over pa and the bees lit into him left an right.
He stood there a watchin them bees attack his pa. Pa tried to grab at him, but he walked away. He did not run, but walked slowly, a lookin back ever now and agin. Last time he looked pa was on that ground layin like a baby. Calvin had lay like that many a time.
Pa was a cryin and a screamin, but Calvin did not care. It felt good to be the one inflictin tha pain.
Ma come to tha door and peeked out then went back ta her lazy chair. She had a drink a likker in one hand and a cigarette in tha other. He walked up behind her and heard her slured voice. “Pa we bout ready ta nap?” She streatched her arms in tha air and when she did Calvin wiped tha remainin honey on her neck afore he removed tha gloves.
“What in tarnation are ye a doin pa? Now I gots ta git that lazy good fer nuthin boy ta carry in some water fer a bath. Shoot. It ain’t even Sunday yet.” She turned and when she did Calvin had the likker bottle. “Give me that boy.” She screamed angrily. She did not have enough sense to know that swipe of honey covered tha feel of tha knife that sliced her throat. She saw the likker bottle aimed at her head but wadnt a thang she could do about it.
Calvin watched her crumple to tha floor her body a bleedin slowly. He watched fer a minute, fascinated. Oh well. Time was a wastin and he got work to do.
He wiped tha bloody knife on ma’s smelly old gown, grabbed some tongs, another knife, and a needle and thread. Out tha door he went.
Pa was dead now and tha bees back in tha hive. Calvin put tha gear back up except for tha glove he left in tha house.
The cotton shed smelled like tha dead now, but it was okay. Things were about ta get better.
Now Ta fix It
Chapter 6
Calvin stood and put his fanger ta his chin. What ta do first. Oh yeah. Tha dream. He picked up tha bloody little pup and put him in a warsh tub. Tha tub was used to warsh cotton when it was muddy, but now it would be for Little pup’s bath.
He stood there for a minute and thought. Nope. That wadn’t tha first thang ta do. He took Little pup out a tha tub and carried him outside tha shed. He laid him on tha ground and went back towards tha house.
Walkin inside he noticed tha horrible smell and almost laughed, but he was afeared too. What if ma was a hant? What if she came back fer him? Then the laughter really did come. She did more damage when she was alive than she could do now, her bein dead and all.
He stopped fer a minute and listened. What was that? Then he laughed so hard he bout fell. Nothin. Nothin but silence.
He took tha knife that sliced ma’s neck and went fer tha needle and thread. He shook his head. He already got it. It was a waitn on him in tha shed.
He shore wished ma would quit a starin at him. She was givin him tha willy’s. Heck far even in death she was mean ta him. He had dilly dallied long enough. He needed ta get busy afor sumbody came ta visit.
Why they might need some cotton or bring pa sum likker. It was untellin what might happen. Calvin all but ran outa tha house and ta tha back a tha shed. He could not waste anymore time.
He took that knife and sliced Little pup’s belly wide open spillin guts everwhere. When he got him clean as a whistle on tha inside he cut out his eyeballs.
He picked up little pup’s carcass and gently stroked his fur. Blow flies was a landin so he had ta hurry a mite quicker. He carried Little pup and put him back in tha tub. There was water in tha barrel and he managed ta fill tha tub.
Calvin scrubbed and scrubbed the blood from Little Pup’s fur and stroked him gently. He almost cried. Almost. He didn’t have time fer such nonsense.
He took a clean rag and dried his one- time pal. He sat down on tha pile a cotton and stuffed Little pup just as full as he could get him. He even stuffed his eye holes. Then he took tha needle and thread and sewed that dog up.
Goodness gracious what a laughin fit he took. Ceptin fer the white fluffy eyes, Little pup looked fattern an old hog.
Ma and pa would be a mite harder. Specially ma. She had lots a fat on her bones. He sat Little Pup down at tha door ta guard and wiped tha laughin tears from his eyes.
Well, as pa always said it ain’t a gonna git done ifn ya don’t do it. Calvin grabbed tha wheel barrow and went fer pa. He tipped it on its side and rolled pa. Nope. Too hard.
Well a great ider just struck his a thinkin. He ran back ta tha cotton shed and took down tha rope from tha rafters. He never knowed what it was there fer. Anyways it would work.
He ran back ta pa and tied tha rope to him. Well if that don’t beat all he still couldn’t pull him.
Whistlin a tune he knew what he had ta do. He had ta steal Farmer Miller’s tractor. He best not get in tha way either. Calvin had thangs ta do.
Farmer Miller
Chapter 7
Calvin slithered like a snake in them tall weeds. Him and little pup did that a lot afor pa kilt him. They could be real quiet and sneaky that way.
Farmer Miller’s tractor was a sittin by tha barn nary a person in sight. Calvin looked this way and that way and still nobody was thare. He jumped up and took off a runnin through that tall grass and tried ta jump that thar fence, but his rotten old shoes got tangled in between tha posts. He fell flat on his back.
He felt like a cussin but pa would wale tha tar out of em. Then he laughed. Why pa wouldn’t wale tha tar outa nobody. He was dead and gone. He jumped up from tha muddy ground and tried one more time. He decided not ta jump tha fence, but climb over it slow like.
Makin it to tha top of tha fence he thought it was safe ta jump now. Mud. Dang it. He fell in a mud puddle. It splattered on his face, in his hair, and on his clothes. And then an idee came to him. He reached his hands in tha mud and covered his face, his hair, and ever thang he could.
That old sun was a blazin down on him and he had a mite trouble a walkin. That old mud was a gittin stiff. He put his arms straight out and made monster noises like the ones on the radio. Pa let him listen sometimes.
Still weren’t nary a soul around and Calvin made it to tha tractor. He climbed up in tha seat and turned tha key. It made a crankin sound. And it was a runnin, but it would not move. Calvin never had one of these before.
He moved tha big stick and mashed hard on the peddle with his foot. Holy cow. He was a headed straight fer tha barn. How did he stop this crazy thang? He took his foot off tha peddle thang and it pert near come to a stop.
Mr. Miller come a runnin around tha barn a cussin ever breath. “You just git yourself down from thar. I’m a gonna tell yor pa.” Calvin just smiled and mashed that peddle thang hard again. He was a headed straight fer Farmer Miller.
Farmer Miller was a runnin this way and that and Calvin had lernt ta steer. He was a havin sa much fun, but play time was over. He had chores ta do. He cornered Farmer Miller and ran right smack dab over him. He run around in circles over and over agin.
Then he drove that old tractor through tha fence and straight to the bee hive where pa still lay. Goodness gracious he was a stinkin.
He tried to tie a rope to him and finally got one on his belt loop. Ever time he tried to pull him sumthin would fall ofa pa. First his arm, then his belly split open.
Calvin shrugged his shoulder. He runned over pa agin and agin till he sunk down in tha ground. Probably a good thang cause ma was a big woman. She would take a right smart of tha cotton.
He took Farmer Miller’s tractor back and parked it right on top of him. Bein as how Farmer Miller smoked, Calvin took his lighter opened the gas cap on tha tractor lit some hay and throwed it all in the gas then he runned.
He wanted to see tha explosion but thought it best to head fer home. Ya never know who would come along about dusk. He was havin a hard time with the mud on his body and he shore was thankful that tha rain come and washed it ofn him. Only problem it would put out Farmer Miller’s tractor fire.
Growing Up
Chapter 8
People came, but no one ever left. A mean old woman with short hair and cat eyed glasses come a lookin fer ma and pa. Said she heard about him from that perty teacher. She comed afor he had ma finished up. Too bad fer her.
She tried ta git away, but he had ta stop her. Why he did not want ta kill tha whole world. He was a tired of draggin bodies inta tha cotton shed so he just grabbed tha machete and told her ta git going. She was a might skeered but she did what he told her ta do.
It was easy to kill her. She never fought. She just fell and laid there a shakin like a skeered rabbit. He watched as she gasped fer breath and finally closed her eyes. Why he never had ta even touch her. She did it all herself.
She weren’t even worth a wastin cotton fer. He dug a hole outside. He dug and dug till he figured she could not come back as a haint. He threw her in and almost swore he heard a breath and saw her eyes a flutter. He throwed dirt in and it gave him the willy’s as he imagined tha dirt moved.
Calvin moved quicker a buryin the old woman. She plumbed skeered him and her daid. He never knowed what that social service thang was she spouted on about but he ain’t a putting up with anymore of em.
Traps and such became tha way he lived. He growed. He wadnt shore how old but he growed stuff on his face. It growed and growed. It bothered him bunches. He finally remembered what pa used ta do when he growed that hair on his face.
He outgrowed his clothes and went ta wearin pa’s. Tha only time he left tha farm was a going ta the creek ever now and then to take a bath, and warsh him some clothes. Other than that he growed cotton.
He had cotton ever where. It was even around tha beehive, in tha house, even plumb over ta Farmer Miller’s.
That time years ago tha people in tha big red trucks come ta put out that fire, but it was already out a cause of tha rain. They never found Farmer Miller. They figured he wadnt home.
But Calvin knew and he wadnt a tellin.
Somethin was a movin in his cotton. He grabbed his scythe and a went forward. He never hid. He always went head on. He stabbed around tha area and heerd a whimper. Got it. Laughing heartily, he picked up tha bloody dog. Little pup had him a little girlfriend now.
Calvin quit a laughin. He wished he had a girlfriend. Someday. Someday.
Mountain of Food
Chapter 9
Golly gee he ain’t never seed so much food in all his born days. Ma and pa had lots of taters and beans, a few cans of maters, and a right smart flour, sugar and such. Nuthin like what Farmer Miller had. Why he had a mountain of food.
Too bad he waited so long to come back over here. There was hot weather, then it got really cold. It snowed bunches and he pert near froze ta death. He throwed ma’s books in tha fireplace and a buncha old furniture.
Not pa’s liquor though. Nope he drank that. Whooeee that was some mighty pareful stuff. Warmed him up a lot too. Felt kinda funny what with his head a spinning and him a staggerin. He didn’t get mean like pa did though. No siree. He laughed and laughed.
Yep. That was maybe three winters ago. He eat up all tha food. Cooked it over tha fire in tha fireplace. Had to tear down a few walls fer wood. Found a rat or two ta eat. Weren’t much meat on em though.
Tha snow went away but it was still cold. Well he put on lots of clothes, pa’s heavy coat and a fur hat he found, and headed out doors. Cotton. All his cotton was frozed and fell ever where. It was dead.
Goodness. He best go check on ma and tha rest of his family. His feet were soaked from a runnin through tha sloshy stuff that snow left behind. He opened tha cotton shack door and went inside.
“Hey ma, pa. What ya doin little pup?” Awww he was cozied up ta his girlfriend. Thare was that social service lady. He dug her up a little while after he buried her. Nobody was around and no one was a lookin. She looked better with cotton eyeballs instead of them thar cat eyed glasses.
Nobody ever come ta check on her. Nobody ever come again to check on him. He flopped down on a pile a cotton and my how warm and cozy. It was a lot perttier than his cotton he left outside.
He learnt sumthin new ever time summer came and gone. He was always ready for tha snow. Cotton was always in tha shack. Day and night, he picked cotton. Growed it and picked it. Had some strangers come snoopin around. He remembered that and laughed. Nobody was allowed at his place. He disposed of em. Filled em with cotton. Added them ta his family. He did not like people. They always wanted ta take him away. So he made them family so they couldn’t take him.
Time came and gone and he got older and older and added more family. He was out pickin cotton one day. It was hot weather agin and his cotton was so perty and white.
Saw some strangers over at Farmer Miller’s. Nope he had ta get rid of em. Old Farmer Miller was a skeleton now, and Calvin made that place his.
Well, he snuck close to them two men. They ain’t farmers that’s fer shore. Dressed sharp as a tack. Why they looked like they were a goin ta one of ma’s soap opera weddins.
They went inta tha house. Calvin ain’t never been in there afore. He was growed a lot more now. He reckoned about twenty. Maybe. Leastways he thought so. Well it was time he went in.
He tracked em easy. He learnt long ago ta be quiet. Got lots a baby rabbits that away. He grabbed a cast iron fryin pan from tha kitchen and slammed both a them across tha head. They never had time ta fight back. Calvin put is fanger to his chin and thought a minute. It would take too much energy ta drag them over to tha shed.
He walked around a minute and saw that locked door at tha end of tha hallway. Maybe something down thar. Stairs down. Lots of stairs. Old wooden…wow. A whole room full of food. Nuthin but food.
And Tha Years Roll on
Chapter 10
All a farmer Miller’s food ended up in Calvin’s house. It was scattered here and there. Nuthin ever was in a place. Why all his time was spent with his cotton and his family. He ate out thar and slept out thar.
Cotton. He loved his cotton. “You love it too, don’t cha ma? “He looked at ma’s cottony eyes and grew angry. “Ain’t cha gonna answer me?” She still never said nary a thang. He walked over to her and shook her lifeless body. When he let her go she fell right out a that chair.
“Cotton man, tha cotton man, give me a hand cause I’m tha cotton man.” He twirled around in a circle and fell on cat woman’s lap. He called her cat woman cause a them cat framed glasses she still wore. Sometimes he felt like stuffin her mouth with cotton cause it was wide open. He knowed she wanted ta talk, and he was glad she couldn’t.
It stunk outside. Flies. Oh, Lordy them flies was awful this year. They was all comin from Farmer Miller’s. Some more people come around since them two fellers. He left em in thar when he discovered all a that food. He plumb forgot em. They had friends now. Yep. Farmer Miller didn’t need it no more.
Ever time someone come he would go take kere of em. He got tared of luggin over cotton so he just left em a layin. He shore wadn’t gonna brang em ta his cotton house. His family took up all tha space. He added more and more even took a wife.
She was still yung and perty as a picure. She looked just like that thar school teacher from long ago. She come a looking fer that cat woman. He just had ta have her. He saw ma and pa doin sumthin one night. They was all sweaty and a hollerin and he done that too the lady. He liked it, but she acted like she didn’t. Why she was a cryin and a hittin him. Maybe he wadn’t a doin it right. Anyway’s he married her. Gosh that cotton shore looked perty on her.
He got old though. His hair was white as tha cotton he growed. Sometimes his belly ached sumthin fierce and his bones had trouble a moving his lags and arms. He was a skinny feller now. He didn’t bother ta go in search a food no more. It came ta him.
So many people comin around. He could over hear em talkin about people a disppearin and haints. Gosh there was a certain time ever year lots and lots a people come. He had ta set triple traps ta keep em away from his house and family. It was always when it was a coolin down.
Usually one or two got too close and he took care of em in a hurry. Yep he quit searchin for food cause it come to him. Oh yeah, he already went over that. His mind was a goin in circles. Gittin old. Maybe he needed ta eat their brains too. Yep. Brain stew.
“Ya hear that honey. We’s gonna have brain stew the next company we have.” He flopped down on tha pile a cotton by his wife and throwed his arm around her. Her cottony eyes stared into his. He went ta kiss her frozen cheek and felt a sharp pain in his side.
He took his hand ta rub his side and come back with blood. He knowed what it was. He killed enough people. He just didn’t know how. Yep that was it. He left tha knife in tha cotton pile after he skinned and gutted that last feller. He’d always wanted a brother. Now his brother done killed him.
“Cotton man, tha cotton man, give me a hand cause I’m tha cotton man.” Calvin took a handful a cotton and started stuffin it in his side. Then he took tha knife and cut across his stomach. Why didn’t he think a that afore. He could really become tha cotton man.
Halloween come and screams were heard from the cotton shack. The police came and discovered Calvin and his family. In all there were fifteen of his so called family, three dogs, two cats, and a preacher. The newspaper called him Calvin the Cotton Man. He would have been proud.
They searched Farmer Miller’s and found sixteen dead bodies in an empty cellar. Dried blood stains throughout the house. Furniture destroyed, and millions of flies. The stench was horrible.
Do you know of anyone missing? Maybe the cotton man took them.
https://forestsflame.wordpress.com/2018/02/19/the-cotton-man-warning-spelling-errors-and-improper-grammar-also-horror/
© Cynthia Clark
I updated. The whole story is on here. You can either read it here on this post or on word press. https://wordpress.com/post/forestsflame.wordpress.com/1485
I want to hear it
Actually yes. It is a complete story. just was not sure anyone wanted to hear it. I think 10 parts to it.
Powerful, but there must be a lot more, you got the makings of a great story!