Sugarcane and Indigo

The Rylands part 2

I yelped and jumped forward at the crunching split of the wood underneath our feet.

"What the fuck-" Indigo exclaimed, whirling around, pulling me half behind him.

I peeked around his shoulder and standing there, nearly bent in half with age, was an old liverspotted man. We was bald with a soft, but thin frame dressed in overalls and a stained under-shirt with no shoes on his feet. He had skin the color of the bark that falls of oak trees. He lifted his arm up and that's when I noticed the second axe.

"What the hell you's doing on my property?" he rasped out in a smokey hurt-your-ears, send-shivers-up-your-spine type of voice.

Indigo eyes the axe and raised his hands in surrender. "Hey now - hey, take it easy," Indigo soothed, "We're not here to cause trouble. We're just looking for a Mister Ryland."

"The old man humphed. "I'm Mister Ryland. What the hell do you want?" the old man - Mister Ryland - demanded, axe blade resting against his shoulder still prepared to throw.

Indigo looked at me helplessly, shrugging his shoulders.

"We want to know what happened to Zula Ryland," I called out, still hidden behind Indigo's shoulder.

"Zula?" Mister Ryland's shoulders slumped and the axe slid off with a resounding thump! "My God, I haven't heard that name in years." He swallowed around the words like they tasted bitter.

He looked at me carefully, leaning to the right to peer at me around Indigo. "Where'd you hear that name."

I kept my eyes trained on the axe nearest to us, in case Mister Ryland decided to attack again. "I found a picture in my Grammie's things of you with your sister."

"And who's your Grammie?" Mister Ryland drawled, studying my face.

"Iris Fletch."

Mister Ryland gaped at me. "You'se related to little Iris Fletch?"

I nodded, hesitantly. I couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing.

"Well slap my ass and call me a newborn, the grandbaby of Irie Fletch!" He clapped his hands together, once, in a booming clap, "Why didn't you say so? Come on in, let me fix you up a cup of lemonade."

I traded a look with Indigo. This guy went from throwing axes at us to making us lemonade? I wondered what else would set him off.

Mister Ryland stumbled past us, limping up the stairs to his house. He threw open the door and nodded at us to sit on the rocking chairs pushed against the house on the porch. Indigo and I traded a look and hesitantly sat down, the chairs creaking underneath us.

"Why are we here?" Indigo whispered to me as soon as Mister Ryland entered his house.

I kept an eye on the chickens as I answered. I hated birds. "Miss Ryland owns the plantation."

Indigo frowned. "Then why aren't we talking to her?"
I turned to look at him, my mouth drawn up tight. "Because I've lived in this town for all my life and I have never, ever heard of a Miss Ryland."

"Never?"

I shook my head. "Never. I've never even heard of a Ryland family until last night when I was searching for them."

Indigo's forehead creased. "What did you find?"

I sighed and my head tilted back almost on its own. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. There was a record saying she owned the land, but nothing else. No school transcripts, no business records, hell no housing deeds even!"