The Big Drop-a short story by Austin Mitchell

The Big Drop

by

Austin Mitchell

              Racka  lay on his back on the naked concrete of his veranda. He had begged  Willie Brown’s  son, Westin, to buy some rope for him. Miss Birdie’s shop was a quarter of a mile away and it was about an hour ago that he had given the boy the money. He had a sneaky feeling that the boy had eaten the money and would probably take a short cut to avoid passing his yard when he was returning from the shop.  He would catch him one of these days and make him return the money or tell his father about what had happened. But then, Racka wondered if he would be around to collect his money from Westin.

            He thought about other ways of doing it. He remembered what Stanford Ranger had done five years ago. He, along with several persons had passed the man by the side of the road and had even told him ‘Good morning.’ Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember if Stanford had replied to his greetings. He was as surprised as most villagers had been to learn that evening that the man had used cord to hang himself. In fact Stanford was dead when he called to him that morning!

            He looked through the windows at the empty house. Curdel had gone with everything. She had only left his clothes scattered on the floor. Last night, Miss Delphine, his nearest neighbor, had lent him a cot, but by this morning she had sent for it. He had only asked Westin to buy the rope for him because he knew that Miss Birdie wouldn’t sell him. She knew of his latest troubles and also knew that he didn’t have any animals to use a rope to tie. It was Miss Birdie, who had sold Stanford the cord to hang himself.

            Already people were calling him all sorts of nicknames, ‘Woman beater, ‘No Mattress’, Empty House. Racka wanted to end it all.

            He considered himself a failure. So the woman had gone with everything. Why had he taken up with a woman thirty years younger than him. His friends always said that he was looking for trouble. The big leather belt was gone too. He had used it to beat her every evening he came home from work. Winky, or sometimes it would be Curphy or Miss Gladys was always there to give him news about Curdel.

            “A man passed through today, Racka.”

            He would get all enraged and swung the leather belt without mercy. Curedel had called the police on him twice. But she had dropped the charges both times after he begged her. Her brothers had warned him on more than one occasion. He knew where she had gone. If he went there for anything belonging to him he would end up in a fight with her brothers.

            Maybe the next time he saw her, she would be married and all that. He remembered Leta. Her daughter had squealed on her to her husband about the men coming to her while he was abroad. Roofa had hastily put out Leta. The last time he saw her, she told him that it was the best thing Roofa ever did for her. 

            Looking back, he wondered if it was Wackle Dennis’s example he had followed. Wackle did construction work and he had to be out most of the day or even the entire week.  On the way home he would stop at more than one bar and would hear all sorts of stories about Carline, his stay at home woman. He would come home, all riled up, especially if his dinner wasn’t finished. Despite Carline’s denial of his accusations he would lay his belt into her. It was about eight years now since Carline had disappeared with all her possessions.  Wackle had traversed the fourteen parishes in a futile search for her. Sometimes people would come to him about seeing Carline and he would be off to find her. He had even put out a missing person report all to no avail.

            Wackle had to move from the district in order to get another woman, Melda. One day they had a quarrel and Wackle went for his belt, but Melda pulled an ice pick on him. He hadn’t heard anything from him after that.

            Somebody was calling his name. He got up, it was Miss Lurline from up the road. She pulled the gate and came in without an invitation.

            “So at last Curedel gone. So what are you going to do now, Dickson?”

            She always called him by his surname.

            “I don’t know, Miss Lurline.”

            “Miss Delphine lent you the cot. You mean she couldn’t let you keep it until you can buy a mattress?”

            Racka hung down his head.

            “Anyway, I’m sorry for what happen, but Dickson, you treated her too bad. You are not to listen to people because they were telling you lies.”

            Miss Lurline got up and sauntered away, leaving Racka more confused than ever.

            Five minutes later, there was a knocking on the gate. Racka remained motionless.

            “Dickson, it’s me, Smithy, let me in. I want  to talk to you.”

            He wished the man would go away. He went and opened the gate.

            “You are keeping up though.”

            Racka tried to show a brave face.

            “I’m not going to let that get me down, Smithy.”

            In his mind, Racka knew that he was lying. He saw Smithy staring intently through the windows.

            “Then Deldphine took back the little mattress that she lent you?”

            Racka nodded. Jesus Christ, the woman had walked all over the district spreading the news that she had lent him the cot.

            “You and I are about the same age, Racka.  From I saw you take up with that little girl I know that it was trouble you bring on yourself.

            Racka groaned. Why didn’t Smithy go about his business and leave him alone?

            “Then tell me something, Racka, it’s the cold concrete you are going to sleep on tonight? You are an ageable man, aren’t you afraid of catching pneumonia?”

            ‘’I am all right, Smithy. When night comes, I have some board around  the back of the house l  can sleep on.”

            Smithy grunted.

            “I am going, I’m sorry I don’t have a bed to lend you.”

            Racka heaved a sigh of relief as he saw Smithy stand up and made for the gate.

            He didn’t want anybody to feel sorry for him. Even if Smithy had a mattress to lend him, he wouldn’t be borrowing it. Jesus Christ, look what he had come to, people wanting to lend him their mattress.

            He wanted people to leave him alone while he contemplated the biggest decision in his life.

            Racka went around to the back of the board house. He had the two room house on a lease and sale agreement. He had heard people say that Curdel should have burnt down the house when she was leaving.

            He would wait until after dusk before he did anything. He looked at the trees at the back of the yard. Both were too low for him to jump out and break his neck. He wanted a quick end. He didn’t want to feel any pain. Why not do it from the star apple tree over Welcome bush. Welcome had never stopped him from picking star apples off the tree. It was in full bearing now. He would use a ladder to climb. He would then dive off headlong on a big rock stone under the tree.

            He sat on a piece of board. He was going to do it. He didn’t have to be drunk. He heard some girls passing and talking loudly. As he listened the loudest girl of all he couldn’t help thinking about Cheyanne.  He hadn’t seen his daughter in ten years after Selta moved out on him. Cheyanne would be about eighteen now. He doubted if he lived twenty  more years he would ever see Odette, his three year old daughter with Curdell or Delona, her six year old daughter.

            Racka smoked two cigarettes and told himself that he was ready. He made his way  down to the tree. He positioned the ladder on the tree and began to climb it. He could see the branch from which he would chuck off.

            He made his way branch by branch. At last he was nearing the branch. He could see himself flying through the air to his death.

            Crack!  Crack!

            Desperately Racka tried to hold on to another limb.

            “Me God!”

***

            Two months later, Racka opened his eyes to behold Cheyanne.

            “Daddy, it’s me Cheyanne. Daddy, it’s so you were hungry, to be climbing a star apple tree at night?”

            “Cheyanne, is it really you? Come give daddy a hug, my daughter.”

            After they finished hugging each other, Racka said.

            “I saw some ripe star apples and used a ladder to get them.”

            He looked around as some people walked into the room. They were Smithy, Miss Lurline and Miss Delphine.

            They all congratulated Cheyanne on how big she had grown.

            There was the general talk about how he was feeling and conditions at the hospital. Racka told them that in another two weeks he would be back home.

            “You still want the rope that Westin bought for you, Dickson?” Smithy asked.

            “Then daddy, what were you going to do with rope?” Cheyanne asked.

            “I wanted to run a line in the room and hang  my clothes on it. Curdel took my suitcases,” he replied.

              Racka didn’t know if they believed him or not.

                He was put through the mill by the two women and his daughter. Smithy was the worst. He was still insistent that he had examined the limb from which Racka had fallen and there were no star apples there. Racka insisted that star apples were there when he had  dropped off.

            Two weeks later Racka came out of hospital. He didn’t know which good person, it was but there was a bed in his bedroom. The next month he was back at work. His bosses loaned him some money to buy some more furniture.

            At fifty five Racka is thankful that his life has been spared. Chenyane  has promised to come and look for him regularly. In addition, he has begun visiting a nearby church. Some of the church members visit him regularly and he has increased his visits there.The End.