An Elderberry Fall (26 page)

After dealing with the worker at the house, I would never let another man take advantage of me.

Studying had kept me busy most of the time. As the classes became more advanced, I stayed up later at night. I found myself lighting the kerosene lamp in an attempt to read all the requirements for an educator. I loved to read, but there were several things interrupting my sleep. Thinking about Mr. Camm being alive was crazy. And times when I longed for Simon's gentle touch, a vision of Nadine sitting in my kitchen, kept me awake and jittery. I had a lot of things going on inside of me.

Things changed the night Adam dropped by for a visit on his way to his cousin's house in the bottom. Ethel had her eye on him, had noticed him the first time he'd visited me at school. She'd said, “He seem to be a nice man.” And she blushed. But, for some reason, Adam had not noticed her at all. He shrugged her off several times, sending her away with a sad face and wondering if she'd been too forward with him. I told her there were many
more men to choose from; he was probably already taken. “But, wouldn't you know about it?” she asked.

“Not really,” I answered. “We don't talk about that subject.”

Adam Murphy came to visit me on the Wednesday after Simon dropped me off. A blanket of February snow covered the trees. It was a quiet evening, the moon was high, and the reflection on the snow made the air feel romantic. Our footprints disappeared as we walked from the small library to the rooming house. Just before we made it to the house, Adam invited me to stop at a room he had rented for the night. It was unusual for him to pay for a place to stay when he had family down in the bottom.

“Let me show you where I am staying tonight,” he said, smiling. We climbed several stairs toward an apartment around the back of a two-story house. It was around the corner from the school. It was a wretched little place. The stench of it being closed up made me feel sick. We opened the window and the scent dissipated. The freshness of the bed linen replaced the stale air. Along with the bed was a desk and washbowl. Everything was plain. What puzzled me was Adam staying there. “Why are you here instead of at your cousin's?” I asked as I sat down in the chair at the desk.

“This is my only means of being close to you,” he said jokingly. However, the lines around his eyes and the seriousness of his posture were indications of business. I liked what I knew about him. His disposition of kindness was always the same.

“We've had this talk before, Adam. I am married,” I said, gazing directly in his eyes.

He did not hesitate to comment. “I know you are married, but I hope not for long. I have my own plans for us.”

“Your friendship is important to me. I don't want to destroy what we have.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am married. I don't believe in doing wrong. I've been raised right.”

He shook his head. “You are not crazy. You are a student at a good school. Soon you will be a teacher. Are you going to stick around while your husband runs around with other women? What kind of lesson is that going to be?”

I stood up. “Adam, I think you are wrong. You don't know anything about Simon. He's really a responsible man.”

“He is out there, Carrie, and you are too naïve to see it. He is not home with you and Robert. He is chasing his dreams and women.”

“They don't mean anything to him.”

He reached over and grabbed my hand. “Can you at least think about it? I know you have feelings for me. I can see it in your eyes. You are just trying to do right. Everybody can't do right because the world will not let them. When you get tired of him, I'll be right here.”

“Are you moving to Petersburg?”

“No, I just wanted to spend some time alone with you. I didn't want to whisper at the rooming house, and I didn't want your friend Ethel thinking I wanted her—young women can get the wrong impression—even though she is beautiful. Now take us, Carrie, we are good for one another,” he said, breaking a subtle smile, and I sat back down and gazed at him intently.

We stared each other in the eyes. Adam's dark eyes, serious and focused, made me jittery, since I didn't know how deep my feelings were for him. I was unable to figure out what he really meant to me.

“You deserve better than Simon. You are a special kind of woman, and I want to be a part of your life.”

“I know, Adam. I've enjoyed your company too.”

Adam had one of the most vulnerable looks on his face, but I could not give in.

“It's getting late,” I said. The kerosene lamp's flickering gave
the room a sultry feel even in the heart of winter. Adam asked me to sit on the bed beside him. I did, but said I had to leave.

“Don't go,” he pleaded and then pulled me close and kissed me passionately on the lips. It felt good. I lay down beside him and faced the wall. He put his arms around my waist and pulled up close to me, his breath warming my neck. I wanted to scream “stop,” but couldn't. I felt my body twitching and the warmth rushing all over me. Just his touch caused me to be weak. From behind me, I could feel the stiffness of his manhood. The sweat trickled down my face and the moisture dripped from my body. I wanted to love him. I loved the way he loved on me, how he started from my head and ended with my toes. He ran his fingers across my nipples and then down my side and inside my thighs. I wanted to let go—give in to him, and so did my body. When he began to part my thighs, I couldn't think of anything but him. Nadine and Simon had been forgotten.

•  •  •

After going back to my room, it wasn't long before my conversation with Simon reappeared in my mind.

“You are my wife,” Simon had mumbled.

“I know you've been sleeping with Nadine. I am not a fool.”

“Nadine is not my wife.”

“What is she then?”

“She is nobody to me,” he'd said.

Now, I thought to myself, Adam was more than a friend to me.

T
he weekend Simon picked me up, John showed up at our house. He came with an interrogating grimace on his face, somewhat like the one he'd had the last time he paid us a visit. This time he was ready and it was evident by the look in his eyes. Simon and I were home. We had just finished a hearty breakfast of spiced sausage, eggs and biscuits.

“You want something to eat?” I asked him.

“Just coffee will be fine,” he said in a firm tone, as he took a seat at the kitchen table, and opened his briefcase.

“What brings you here today?” I asked, serving him the coffee.

He added a cube of sugar and stirred it, and then took a sip of it. “We need to talk.”

“What's on your mind?” I had wondered that when I'd opened the front door and saw him standing there with his briefcase in his hand.

“I know who the killer is.”

Simon and I didn't react. We watched him swallow and place his cup onto the saucer. Neither of us commented.

“Did you hear me?” he asked.

“Yes, we heard you. Who is the killer?” I was afraid it was Simon since he did not move. He sat still with a serious stare in his eyes and listened without flinching.

Finally, Simon said, “John, are you accusing us of killing Camm? If so, I've got some news for you.”

John got up without waiting for me and poured another cup of coffee. He added sugar and cream to it and sat back down. “No. I've been talking to some folks all over Jefferson County. I have been to the joint and talked to every one of Camm's associates.”

“Why, John, is it so important to find who killed Camm? Why are you trying to do a job the sheriff can do all by himself? We are getting over him. I don't want to keep talking about him. None of this is good.”

He shifted himself and got up from the kitchen table. He walked over to the kitchen window and peered out of it. He was no longer the country John, wearing bib overalls. He was more city than ever. His shoes were shining and the cuffs of his pants were creased. He paused for a few seconds. “Because I want to free my family from it all. The people in Jefferson respect us; our papa was a fine man. It is my duty to put this murder to rest. The sheriff is a dumb boy. He is not smart enough to be in the job, but he's a white boy and that's all that matters in this country. I want to clear the Parker name and move on.”

“The sheriff is not going to like you messing in his business.”

He sat back down. “I did it for us, not the damn sheriff. We need our good name cleared. This man has left dirt in our path, and now it is time we clear it all up.”

Simon was getting a bit concerned. He had studied John from top to bottom, as he always did when he was trying to figure out someone's intentions. “So, John, what did you find out? Who killed the son-of-a-bitch?”

“I'm not so sure he is dead,” I said.

“He is dead all right. He is dead,” John stated.

“Well, why is there a man walking around town looking just like him?”

He didn't flinch, didn't show any emotion. He knew the fellow. “The man you've seen is his brother. Camm had a twin.”

“What?” Simon and I both said at the same time.

It explained the train trip and the man in front of the club. But, why did he all of a sudden show up? We were spending days and months on Camm's murder, and what about poor Willie? Did anyone care about an upright man?

“Herman's brother has been around town looking for his brother's killer. He and I teamed up in Jefferson over a month ago. We talked to a lot of cats and I ended up back at home, Carrie.”

“What are you saying?”

“Earl, one of Herman's best friends went over the night again with me.”

Simon pulled himself up high in the chair to give the conversation his full attention. I inhaled and waited.

“The night Herman was killed, a lot of people were looking for him. Simon, you were there too. They said you seemed mad enough to kill anybody.”

Simon folded his arms, his facial muscles flexing. “Listen, I don't care what those people say.”

“Wait, before you get bent out of shape, they saw you drive off. So nobody is concerned about you killing the man. I was just telling the story.”

Simon didn't say a word, only stared at John like he was the enemy.

“It's going to be all right,” I said to Simon, and tapped him on the arm. He gazed at me with soft eyes, and everyone seemed to relax.

John even eased up. “Well, Earl said Camm had wronged a lot
of people. He'd been seeing another woman.” Then he interjected, “Momma didn't know about it at first.”

“I don't know why she didn't; he was always away from home. He would leave sometimes and wouldn't return until the next day. I can remember Momma opening the door in the early morning hours helping him to her bed.”

“She really didn't know,” John added. There are a lot of things we didn't know about this man. We didn't know about Ms. Pearl. Ms. Pearl had known him for years before he even knew Momma. In the meantime, he was causing problems for a lot of people. Still, no one had the right to take his life.”

Simon's eyes narrowed at the discussion of Herman Camm. It was obvious the mention of his name was irritating to him. I was not the only one wondering why his ghost was still around.

“Can you just tell us who killed the dude?” he urged John.

John cleared his throat, annoyed by Simon's frustration. “I have narrowed it down to our family.”

My eyes flew open, and I gasped in fear. “Let me ask you a question, Carrie,” he said, gazing at me in a fixed stare. I inhaled and felt my heartbeat thumping under my clothes.

Before I could say anything, Simon said, “She's your sister, John; leave her alone.”

“I'm not accusing her of anything,” he quickly shot back.

“Carrie, did you see Carl the night Herman Camm was killed?”

All of a sudden my memory began to fail me. “I don't know. He was at home,” I said, not knowing if he was home or not. Since he did not go to joints and places like that, I was pretty sure he was home with Mary.

“I asked the same question to Momma and the both of them started shaking uncontrollably.”

“Did you know, Simon, that Camm had made a pass towards your sister?”

“If he had, she would have said something to me.”

John got up and moved around the circumference of the room. He peered at Simon. “Why would she tell you when she has a husband?”

“Listen, John, I don't know where you are getting this from, but who the hell is the murderer?”

“Camm made advances to Mary and she told Carl the same day he was murdered. He had access to the house and to Momma's rifle. He could have killed him and nobody would know.”

I got angry. “Leave it alone, John. Let this rest.”

“I want everybody in the family to know where my investigation ended. I don't want Kindred, Camm's brother, to know anything about this.”