Hangman's Oak

Chapter Six

Hangman's Oak sits alone in the middle of a wide greensward in the park. Beneath the bough where Cutter was hanged, tire tracks were still visible. Was Cutter's truck really the scaffold for his hanging? I went off in the direction the tracks indicated.

Though the grass beyond the tree had mostly returned to normal, I caught track traces showing I was headed the right way. Gardner Park isn't quite level; there are dips and rises. Still, as I looked back toward Hangman's Oak, I saw that the truck hadn't deviated much from a straight line. I came to a rise the truck hadn't met squarely, and it had veered off to the left. About a hundred yards from the tree, I came to where the truck had plowed into bushes and finally stopped.

To my left, the edge of the park was only 30 yards away. Had the passing teens heard the truck's engine running? Had the truck been driven or had it ambled there on its own?

Looking back I could see most of Hangman's Oak. No one standing here in the dark could possibly have seen Cutter hanging. I saw where the truck had been backed out of the bushes and driven out of the park. A length of cord with a loop at one end lay on the ground. It might not have anything to do with the truck. I took its picture anyway. I decided to call it a day and headed home. Give my scrambled thoughts a chance to jell.

That evening over dinner, I discussed with my wife, Wendy Devlin, everything I knew and speculated about Cutter's hanging.

"What reason would Cutter have to print that photograph?"

I put down my fork. "I don't know. That's what I'm trying to reason out."

"You said he had inoperable, stage four cancer. Any idea how long he had to live?"

"No. Why?"

"Just trying to think of what I would do if I knew I were dying and had unresolved issues haunting me."

Wendy's comment stuck with me the rest of the evening keeping me from following the movie we watched. Our cuddling later put it out of my head.