They stumbled across the ditch, tripped over the hedge and soon found what looked like a good spot. As instructed, they lay the cross flat on the ground and then poured on five gallons of diesel from Barnhill's can. Lester had barely gotten started when the post-hole digger hit a large pipe buried just below the topsoil. They'd have to dig somewhere else.
That meant more lost time since they had to argue in loud whispers about where to try next before moving operations to the chosen spot. It proved to be prime digging soil, however, and the hole was soon finished. That's when they realized their gloves were back in the truck. They'd be wrestling a messy, diesel soaked cross with bare hands. The thought did not appeal to the fastidious Billy Ray one little bit.
When they had started working on the first hole, a dog inside the house began to bark. Another in the backyard soon joined. Mr. Jack had said there would be an inside dog, and that another one might be inside the fenced backyard. So it wasn't the dogs, but the thought their barking might attract attention which motivated the novice cross burners to make a modest increase in the pace of their work.
This lack of urgency would prove a grievous error. The barking dog in back was Belle, short for Beelzebub. She was the bad tempered by-product of a brief but turbulent liaison between a vicious Rhodesian Ridgeback and a brutal Catahoula Cur; the latter being a local breed raised to herd and fight wild hogs. Her distinguishing features were powerful shoulders crowned by a ridge of stiff hair along her backbone, dark mottled fur, a milky-white, "glass," eye, a paranoid disposition, and an all-consuming desire to protect her human family from strangers.
Considering her lineage, Belle was on the small side. That hadn't kept her from becoming boss dog of the big pack of hounds out at the family's farm. Thanks to this status, and the fact she scared off the local Jehovah Witnesses from both the Williams' home all the others on Catawba Street, she was a frequent guest at the house. While the men in the front yard debated, then moved to another spot and began digging a second hole, Belle was in the back yard, moving dirt at a frantic pace as she dug her own hole.
The moment the triumphant front yard crew slipped the diesel soaked cross into their new hole, Belle escaped. Stealth, however, was not one of her strong suits. The targets of her intended assault were soon alerted by the sound of loud, angry barks approaching around the side of the house at a very high rate of speed.
The two men spotted the dark, barking projectile heading their way at the same time. Lester, who had the misfortune to be closest to the house, yelled something, snatched up the post-hole digger and began doing his best to hold off the snarling menace. Billy Ray splashed on the gas, dug out his lighter, and set the cross afire. If either one realized they hadn't braced it upright, they didn't seem interested in correcting the oversight.
Seeing the cross starting to burn, Howard Lee cranked his truck and came down to pick them up. Remembering Barnhill's warning about not leaving evidence, Billy Ray managed to grab the empty containers without attracting the dog's attention. Lester's occasional yelps made it clear he was having uneven results in his efforts to avoid Belle's assault. As he fought a desperate, rear-guard holding action, they once again tripped over the hedge and then stumbled back through the ditch to the edge of the road.
Before Howard Lee could come to a full stop, Billy Ray threw the empty can and bottle into the truck bed and jumped into the cab. They waited, with some impatience, as Lester lurched backward into the cab while trying to deny Belle any more samples of his flesh. Once inside, he yanked in the protective digger. This move sent the handles smashing into the windshield. Ignoring Howard Lee's angry protests, Lester slammed the door shut before Belle could follow him into the crowded cab.
A glint of light made Billy Ray turn around and look through the cracked, rear window. When he shouted that headlights were approaching, Howard Lee stopped complaining about his busted windshield and gunned the engine.
It flooded and died.
They had the good luck to be facing downhill. Howard Lee shifted into neutral and yelled at Billy Ray and Lester to get out and push. At that moment, Belle was doing her best to scramble in through the still open passenger window. This prompted Billy Ray and Lester to yell right back, suggesting he get the hell out and shove himself. Even Howard Lee, whose mind seldom shifted out of second gear, could follow their logic. He jumped out and began pushing. As the oncoming headlights got nearer, the truck began inching its way downhill.
That was when Belle became aware of the new and very vulnerable target of opportunity standing outside the open driver's door. She raced around behind the tailgate and pounced on Howard Lee's unprotected left leg. A short but intense string of obscenities ensued, followed by his jumping back in and yanking the door shut, just missing Belle's open jaws and bared teeth. Shifting into low gear, he released the clutch. The truck backfired, then the motor caught. As they raced away the cross seemed to be giving them a slow parting bow that ended with it toppling over onto the grass.
Left behind amidst the exhaust fumes, and shreds of denim on Catawba Street, a small-to-medium sized, mixed-breed dog watched two small, red orbs merge into the neighborhood's outdoor Christmas lighting, and bayed in savage triumph.
