Cautiously, I peeked around and startled, jumping back.
The small girl popped up with Tommie in her arms. “Wrenna,” I said, breathing heavily.
“Ain’t getting Tommie!” she screamed, and Junia threw back her head and shrieked.
“Whoa, whoa, easy, Junia. Wrenna, it’s me, Book Woman. It’s me.” I raised my hand to Junia and slowly waved it in front of the young girl. “Just me,” I said in a soft whisper, the words swallowed into the woodland.
Wrenna tightened her mouth and held Tommie up to her chest. “Ain’t touching him,” she said, clutching the rooster against her dirt-streaked flour-sack dress. Then she thrust out her arms, holding the bird just inches from my face. A soft, rippling oo-oo rose in his throat as he lifted and slowly spread deadly claws. Tommie cocked his head to me, his dark eye locked to mine.
My mouth went dry and I blinked, swallowed hard, and let out a small shaky breath. “Wrenna, no.”
Pearl choked. “Wren-Wrenna, I’m a friend of Book Woman. No one’s going to hurt you or your pet,” she said, her voice high.
“Wrenna, this is Pearl Grant, our new lookout. She takes care of our forest and keeps it and all the critters safe. I promise we don’t want to take Tommie from you. Here, I’m just returning your book. See, it’s The Doll’s House, your favorite.” I tossed her a wobbly smile.
The rooster sounded another oo-oo.
Carefully, I set the book on the ground and inched backwards to Junia. “I left some others at your home. The Young and Happy Rooster and Rabbit Hill, a great tale about critters.” The mule toe-hopped nervously, her eyes large, ringed white with terror. I knew she was remembering how our family rooster used to attack her. Still, she shifted closer to me and blew a loud warning over my shoulder.
“Oh, Rabbit Hill is wonderful with the brave-hearted little Georgie. And I was just telling Book Woman how much I love Tottie in The Doll’s House,” Pearl said sweetly. “Don’t you, Wrenna?” Her voice spiked higher.
Wrenna tucked the rooster under her arm and picked up the book, edging slowly backwards, her eyes darting back and forth between Pearl and me. “I thought it was Perry Gillis. Perry Gillis and the sheriff so I took off and dropped it. He…” She bit down on her trembling lip. “He’s gonna kill me!”
“Perry Gillis is gone now,” I said real slow. “He can’t hurt you or Tommie anymore. Promise.”
“Lies.”
“Wrenna, Perry Gillis won’t hurt you again.”
She narrowed distrustful eyes and wagged her head. “He…he shoved me into his truck last year and, and he—”
My eyes widened.
She turned her face away, shrugged her bony little shoulder to her wet cheek, brushing it hard. Tommie lowly clucked his protests.
“He drove us off the road into them woods up there on 721. Tommie was chasing us an’ crow’n up a storm. Said he’s gonna kill my rooster and put him in his soup pot if Tommie pecks him again, and after he was done, I was gonna wish he’d killed me too.” Tears streaked her dirt-stained cheeks. “He beat on me so hard I wet myself. Then he cursed me for soiling his seat and pushed me out of the truck,” she spat out.
“Oh, Wrenna, he can’t hurt you anymore. Please let me take you home. Your great-granny will take care of you,” I pleaded, stretching out an arm, tears springing to my own eyes. “He won’t hurt you, again, Wrenna, no. Don’t go. He’s dead—”
“No!” She shook her long, tangled curls, set Tommie down, turned, and bolted into the woods.
“Wrenna, wait!” I called. “Wait!”
Tommie ran after her, scattering a string of caaaw-caaaws as he tried to keep up.