A Lesson Before Dying (19 page)

30

SIDNEY deROGERS
was on his way to George Jarreau's house to mow the lawn when the truck went by him. He didn't pay any close attention to the black truck with the gray tarpaulin cover, but he would tell the people later at the Rainbow Club that he did feel a cold chill when the truck went by. The truck turned left on the main street two blocks up ahead of Sidney, but he thought it was just another truck delivering something at one of the department stores. Around eleven o'clock, George Jarreau's wife, Lucy, came out into the yard where Sidney was raking up the grass and leaves and told him that she wanted him to go uptown to Edwin's department store and get her a large spool of white thread. Sidney drove the six blocks in Lucy's car, and as he was approaching the store he saw a crowd of people standing on the sidewalk, facing the courthouse. Parked beside the courthouse was the same truck that Sidney had seen at eight o'clock that morning. The tarpaulin had been rolled back, and two men sat at the tail end of the truck, talking and smoking cigarettes. Sidney parked a little distance beyond the department store and walked back. He saw many people he knew, both white and colored, but no one paid him any attention; they were too concerned with the truck parked beside the courthouse. When Sidney came into the store, he found all the clerks up at the front, trying to see what was going on in the truck. He stood back waiting, but no one paid him any attention. Finally, he told one of the women that Miss Lucy had sent him up there for a spool of coarse white thread. Without looking around, the woman told him to go and find it himself. When he came back to pay her, she told him to have Lucy send the money some other time.

My aunt did not sleep at the house the night before. Like many of the other older people in the quarter, she spent the night with Miss Emma. Some of the others took shifts, but my aunt stayed there the whole night. Reverend Ambrose was there until midnight, then he went home to get some sleep because the sheriff had told him he wanted all witnesses at the courthouse no later, absolutely no later, than eleven-thirty the next morning.

Vivian and I sat in a corner of the Rainbow Club that night. There were more than a dozen people in the place, but it was quieter than I had ever seen it. Vivian held on to her one drink all the time she was there, and when she left, she still had not finished it. She had gone to church after her class that afternoon, and she told me she would go again the next morning. She told me that from noon until she “heard,” she would have her students on their knees beside their desks. She left the Rainbow Club at nine. After walking her to the car and kissing her good night, I went back inside and stood at the bar. Claiborne wiped glasses and did not talk to anybody. He served you when you raised your glass for another drink or your bottle for another beer, then he went back to wiping glasses. Thelma had closed up the café just after nine and gone home. Claiborne said he was going to close up at eleven tonight. I told him I wanted a half pint to take with me. Claiborne wrapped it in a brown paper bag and I paid him, but we didn't look directly at each other. At ten-thirty I left, but I still didn't want to go home, and I drove to a bar in Port Allen. I ran into a guy there who knew me and wanted to talk about it, but I didn't want to talk about it, and after I had a drink I started back for the quarter. I got back there about midnight. The place was pitch black, except for the light on Miss Emma's porch. A couple of cars I didn't recognize were parked in front of the house. I supposed they were family or friends who had come to be with her tonight. I didn't stop. There was nothing more to say. I went on home. I took the bottle out of the paper bag and drank about half of it. I had bought the liquor to make me sleep, but God knows now I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to dream—not tonight.

The minister did not sleep at all that night, and at daybreak he got up and knelt beside his bed to say his prayers, then he went to the kitchen to warm water for his bath. His wife, Mrs. Becky, came into the kitchen to fix him a bowl of cush-cush for his breakfast. When the minister finished his bath, he sat down at the table to eat. He had a cup of coffee before he ate his food. He ate very slowly as he sat at the table thinking about what he had to do today. After he finished his breakfast, he went into the bedroom to get his Bible, then he came back into the kitchen and sat down at the table again. He had chosen the Twenty-third Psalm to read at the jail; he made that choice soon after the sheriff had given him permission to be one of the witnesses. Now he was reading his Bible and praying that God would give him the strength that he knew he needed. He had never witnessed anything like this before, and he knew he needed God every moment that he would be there. He knew that Harry Williams was going to be there too, and he told himself he would stand or sit as close to Harry as he could. He also reminded himself that he would meet LaCox soon after it was over. LaCox was the colored mortician of Bayonne, and he would have the coffin ready.

At six-thirty, the sheriff sat down at the table in his dining room to eat his breakfast. His breakfast was two homemade biscuit sandwiches. The biscuits had been split open; one contained a pork sausage patty and the other contained figs. Lillian, their colored maid, had preserved figs the past summer. The sheriff also drank a glass of milk and a cup of strong coffee. Usually the sheriff ate his breakfast at eight o'clock and arrived at the jail at nine, but he wanted to get there no later than seven-thirty today because that chair was supposed to arrive by eight. The sheriff's wife sat across the table from him, drinking coffee; it was too early in the morning for her to eat anything. As the sheriff ate, he talked to his wife, but he avoided looking her directly in the face most of the time. He told her that he wished this day had never gotten here, but now that it had, he had to do what he had to do. This was the first time he was in charge of an execution, and he was praying that everything would go well. He told his wife that he had asked the teacher if he wanted to be there, but the teacher had shaken his head. He understood, he had said to the teacher. The reverend had asked to be there, and he had asked the reverend if one other person from the quarter would like to be there too. The reverend said he would ask, and the next day the reverend came in and told him that Harry Williams had said yes. The sheriff knew Harry Williams and knew he was no troublemaker. The sheriff ate his food and looked beyond his wife as he mentioned the names of other witnesses. He had also hired two more deputies to be there today, just in case he needed them. Two people from Mr. Gropé's family were going to be there—and he thanked God that the family had let him handle this in a civilized way. He told his wife without looking directly at her that it would take place in the storeroom on the bottom floor in the back of the courthouse. He said everything had been cleared out of the room so there would be space for the chair and the witnesses.

Melvina Jack was sweeping off the sidewalk at Edwin's department store when the truck went by her. She had finished and was knocking the dust out of the broom when she saw the truck turn down the alley beside the courthouse. Juanita deJean, one of the white clerks in the store, came outside and asked Melvina if she had any idea what was inside that truck. Melvina did not, and Juanita told her that she would know before this day was over. An automobile drove up and parked in front of the courthouse in a space marked official. The sheriff's car was already parked in his personal parking space. Two men got out of the official car and went inside the courthouse. The older, heavier man wore a cowboy hat, and both men wore suits. Melvina and Juanita continued to watch the truck parked beside the courthouse. Then suddenly Melvina's heart started pumping extra fast, and Juanita heard her say, “No, no.” “Yes, yes,” she heard Juanita say. While they stood there watching the truck, Sheriff Guidry came out of the courthouse with the two men, and the three of them went around the side to the truck. Sheriff Guidry said something to the driver, and the truck moved toward the rear of the courthouse, up against a window. Two men got out of the cab of the truck and climbed up onto the bed and began rolling back the tarpaulin cover. Then Melvina saw it, a high-backed wooden chair with leather straps, and it took all her strength, she said later, to remain on her feet. The two men, one on either side, moved the chair to the tailgate of the truck, and two other men, who had come out the back door of the courthouse, stood on the ground with their arms extended as the chair was eased down to them. When the men on the ground had the chair secured in their hands, the two men in the truck jumped down to the ground, and the four of them took the chair through the door into the courthouse. There was something else in the truck—a machine-looking thing, Melvina said. Juanita told her that nothing would happen until twelve o'clock, and that she could go home at eleven-thirty if she wanted to. Melvina thanked her, but still she could not take her eyes off the truck. She heard Juanita saying that she wished something like this could be done somewhere else. What about those poor children up at the school? She just hoped they would not hear that thing. Melvina knew she was speaking of the white children at the white school, but she had no idea what it was that could be heard as far away as the school was from the courthouse.

During the month that he was in jail, Fee Jinkins's duty was to clean the sheriff's office and the white men's and white ladies' rest rooms. He started every morning between six and six-thirty and finished around eight or a little after. He was just getting ready to put away the mop and bucket when he saw them bringing that chair in through the back door. Four people were carrying it, two strangers and the two special deputies, Oscar and Claude Guerin. The sheriff walked in front, and a man wearing a cowboy hat followed the chair. The man with the cowboy hat kept saying be careful, be careful; he didn't want that chair bumping into anything. The sheriff opened the door to the old storeroom, and the two strangers took it inside, then everyone followed. They did not shut the door, and Fee could hear them talking in there, though from where he was in the hall he could not see them. He could hear the sheriff asking where the chair should be set, and the man in the cowboy hat was saying he wanted it against the wall not far from the window, because those wires from the generator on the truck had to come through the window. Other people who had come to work were also in the corridor. A woman was saying that she had seen it, and it looked just gruesome. A man said it did look gruesome, and that's why they called it Gruesome Gerty. The man told the woman that whoever sat in Gruesome Gerty's lap when she was hot never sat down again. The woman replied, “That is gruesome.” Fee heard the man with the cowboy hat tell someone to go out to the truck and bring in the instruments. A white man standing behind Fee asked him if he had seen it. Fee said he surely had, and it looked mean. The white man told Fee he had better watch himself, or maybe they would have to bring Gerty back for him to sit in her lap. Another man laughed nervously. A woman in the hall told the man shame on him, he ought to stop that, just shame on him. Fee could hear the man with the cowboy hat talking to another man through the window. He was asking the man did everything reach okay, and the man out on the truck said yes, everything did. Out in the corridor, more people were coming in for work. They all wanted to know if the first ones there had seen it. Some of them who had not seen it said they had. Someone said if you had not seen it, you would most definitely hear it. And a woman said she wished she had played sick and stayed home today. A man told her that anyone who wanted to leave was free to stay away between twelve and three. The woman said she was not going to be anywhere around here. Someone asked was it always between twelve and three, and another man said yes, it always was. And someone else said the Lord died between twelve and three on a Friday. A woman said yes, and so did two thieves, one on either side of Him. Fee heard the woman saying that she definitely was not going to be here during that time. She said she felt sick already.

Clay Lemon, who worked at Weber's Café and Bar and Bait Shop and who ran errands for Felix Weber, had just gotten out of the car to go into the bank when he first heard the noise. The sound was coming from the direction of the courthouse, a block and a half away. Clay said later that he did not know what it was, nor did he know exactly where it was coming from. A white man and a white woman walking ahead of him were just about to go into the bank when the woman stopped suddenly and looked back. She said, “Oh, God, don't tell me that they have started—” and the man said, “Come on, dear, come on; don't listen to that.” The man held the door open for the woman, but she would not go inside, and Clay would not dare go through the door until the white people did. The man told the woman that nothing was going to happen until after twelve o'clock, and they would be long gone by then. He said that they were just warming up the thing, testing those instruments to make sure everything was in working order. The woman said, “But my God, the whole town can hear that thing.” The man said, “Come on, come on, dear,” and put his arm around her. They went inside, and Clay followed. The woman asked the clerk behind the counter if she had heard it. The clerk asked, “Heard what?” The woman told about the noise that was coming from the courthouse. The clerk said that being inside, they heard very little from that far away. The woman shook her head and said, “It was just horrible. Just too horrible.” The clerk told the woman that her little boy had asked her last night what was going to happen at the jail today, and she said that the sheriff just had to put an old bad nigger away, and she didn't want him to worry about anything. The clerk said that she checked on her little boy just before she went to bed last night, and he was sound asleep. And today when he left for school with his little book sack, there was not a solitary word; he had forgotten all about it. The clerk said all this while serving the white man and white woman. Then Clay stepped up to the counter—but he had forgotten why he was there. The clerk, who was very thin, with blond hair and gray-blue eyes, looked at him and said, “Well, well, I don't have all day—didn't you bring it?” But Clay didn't know what she was talking about. “Didn't Felix send you here to get the money, you dumbbell?” she asked him. He must have given her the sack with the note and the check, because the next thing he knew, he had the weight of quarters, nickels, dimes, and pennies in the sack and he was outside again in the bright sunlight, and he could still hear the noise from the generator a block and a half away.