Billy (17 page)

Fred Sneed spent most of the time he figured he had left just sittin. Most of the time, town folks could find him sitting
out
front of the Rasey Gray, that little diner down on Front Street across from Macky's store and Mister Warden's place. Fred was known for his sittin, and was pretty good with them checkers if he could find somebody to play him. This Satur day was about same as most for Fred, the hot sun felt good on his old bones. His sittin buddies, the rest of them Banes old men that could talk your ear off, were inside the Rasey Gray. Fred told them he be in, in just a bit, wanted to
sit
awhile. Fred liked watching things, watching and figuring who was goin where and who was doin what. Fred
started
scratchin the side of his head a little, spit
some
tobacco
out,

65

66 I Albert Fre
11
ch

and watched Evan
Dorman bring Mister
Ward
e
livery truck around and pul l it right i n
front of
the door, then
get out and go inside.
Fred
started
to
get
u p
and go
in the Rosey
Gray, but figured
he'd wait
a
bit. Pretty
soon
he knew he
'
d figu red
things ou t.
He
stood,
look h is
s
w
ea
t-stai ned hat
off, and
held it
al
his heart
as
he watched
Evan
Dorman
and Mister Warden carry the
white
coffin out of
Warden's burial
shop
and
slide
it into the back of the truck. He kept
standing
u ntil the truck pulled away and headed
out of
town.
New
he
could go
into the Ro
sey
Gray and tell
them somebody died.
Doc Grey drove into town,
pulled
his
car
up in front
of
his
office,
when Mister Macky
comes
running
up
from his
counter

shop
asking, "How
she
doing?
She gonna be
all
right?" "Couldn't
do nothing for her. She
was gone when
I
got

there."

"My God,
Henry,
she's dead? She wasn't bu t a
ch
ild."
"Looked like
that knife
got
in there
just far enough." "My
God, Henry."

"Folks
out there ain
'
t taking it too
good, barely
holdin
up."
"I heard it was two n iggers,
off
the tracks."

"It
ain't
looki ng that way now."

"What ya
mean, Henry?"

"Sheriff
thin ks
it some
Patch
boys."

"Can't
have
these ki nd of
\vay
s
sta11in
up
.. no
sir.'"

"Sheriff out
t here at the Patch
now,
lookin
for em."

Matt Woodson
came
into town
and wen t right down
to Dillion
Street, pulled his
tru
ck
up
beh ind Jack's place and went
in the
back door.
Judy Fremont
came
over
to
him.
H
e
leaned over to
kiss
h
er,
but
she
lowered
her
head.

"What's wrong, don
'
t
ya want
my ki
sses
anymore?" Matt
teased.

B I L L
y
I 67

"Red Pasko's little girl Lori been killed." "What?"

"
He
was in here when they come for him. Niggers did it."
Harvey Jakes
sat behind his desk. His week was over and another paper was out, not a bad
one
either. He
sat
reading over it, looking for them
mispri nted
words he may have missed; so far it was pretty clean. Harvey Jakes, the editor and publisher of the Banes County
Times,
started
publishing back in 1926. The staff had gone home, this was his time to reflect on the entire week. Harvey was in his late thirties, well dressed, still lived around the
corner
with his
mother.
Harvey's secretary and typist, Helen Marks, was probably the prettiest girl i n town, or, if not, she had the longest legs. When she came running back into the
office,
Harvey
couldn't
help but keep his eyes on her skirt flying up
over
her knees until
s
he
scoo
ted
around his desk and
yelled, "There's
been a murder, Mister
Jakes.
A little girl been killed, I just heard it. Mister Hanner was talkin about it,
said
some
coloreds

did
it."

Gumpy could not
hear
the things around him,
could
not hear the screams and shouts, the barking dogs. His
own scream
s
and
cries
would not let distant sounds in through his
wall of
fear. He had never been in a car before, and when it
started
up and jerked forward his
stomach surged.

"Shut up back there." The sheriff 's
shouts seemed
to
shake
the car from side to side. Gumpy had
slouched
down in th
e
corner of
the
back
seat
when the
car
lunged forward, then
lunged
again as it
shifted
into
second gear.
Gumpy's
eye
s
popped open. He peered through his tears and the
glaring

6U I
A/11ert Fre11d1

sunlight
coming through the dirty
car
windows. Blue
sky
was moving,
green
treetops
went
Hying by, then the
sky
was going by
again,
t hen the
air came
blowing in like wind before the rain. The
car
jerked again and the windy air teased his tears,
smeared
them
over
his vision, making
everything
blu rry gray. He
closed
his
eyes.
Now only the image of the big fat neck and bull-like head of Sheriff Tom stayed in his mind.

The sheriff slowed the car and eased it over the small wooden bridge that goes over the Catfish, slowed again
&s
he
crossed
the tracks, then sped up Dillion Street and turned left on Front Street. As a habit, his eyes always
scanned
the side walks, looking here and there. Most
of
the time, town folks just went on about their business u nless there was
a
Saturday-night fight brewin, then they
stop
and stare as they do now. When he pulled into his parking
space
in front
of
the jail, Cecil Hill, his part-time deputy, and
Stewart
Ross,
Cliff
Whitman, and Frank Ottum came rushing up to the
car.

"You
get em, that him?"

"Just
got this one,
got
one more out there," Sheriff
shouts
back.

"There another one still out
there?"
Frank Ottum shouts.
Silence.

"Sheriff,
ya sayin
ya got
one more
out
there?"
Frank
Ottum

shouts
again.

"We gonna
get
him in a bit, Frank,"
Sheriff
mu mbles.
"We can go out
there with
ya, Sheriff
,
get that
nigger
out

of there. We
can
help. Can't have that nigger ru n ni n loose," Frank Ottum
shouts.

Silence.

"Sheriff,"
Frank Ollum shouts.

"l'm
gain ta
get
h im, Fra nk. I'm
gain
ta
get
him in
a
bit."

B I L L y
I 69

Sheriff mumbles, then pushes the car door open and gets
out
the car. Frank Ottum, Stewart Ross, Cliff Whitman go to the back of the car and peer into the window. The sheriff pushes them aside, opens the back door of the
car,
reaches in, and snatches Gumpy out the back
seat.

"Get
your
ass out of here," the sheriff
yells,
and
yanks
Gumpy from the car and starts dragging him by the arm to wards the jail.

"How
old's that nigger, Sheriff?" Frank Ottum shouts. Except for Gumpy's gasping and
sniffles,
it is
silent.
"How old is this nigger? That other nigger
still
loose. Ya

got his name? This here boy tell ya?" Frank Ottum
shouts.

Silence.

"Cecil,
get that bottom cell ready," Sheriff says. "Got it, Sheriff," Deputy Hill answers quickly.

"Sheriff,
when ya goin back
out
there to
get
that
other
one?" Frank Ottum asks.

Sheriff Tom drags Gumpy towards the jail and doesn't look back until he hears Frank Ottum shout,
"Sheriff,
it ain't right leavin that other one
out
there wild, we got
children and
women at home too." Sheriff Tom just stares at Frank Ottum, then turns and yanks Gumpy through the jail's door.

All the tears Gumpy has fall from his
eyes
now, as he look
s
around at the big walls, the big chairs, the
big
wooden
fence
that runs across the room. The big hand around his
arm
jerks him through the gate in the wooden fence, then flings hi m down into a big brown
chair.

"Sit down here and
shut
your goddamn mouth,
ya
hear? Shut that goddamn
cryin
up, ya hear me?" the
sheriff yells,
then goes around his desk and sits in his chair. Gumpy
s
its with his head hanging down and
staring
al the floor.

70
I
Albert
Frnucli

The sheriff takes a few deep breaths, then rubs the back of his neck and looks at
Gumpy.

"How
old're
ya,
boy?"

Gumpy is
silent,
then
starts
to whimper, but keeps his head down. The
sheriff
ask again, bu t this time he lowers his voice and speaks softly, "How old're you? Come on, now, you
can
tell Sheriff Tom."

Gumpy is silent, then mu mbles
something
through
his
whimpers.

"I can't
hear
ya,
now, you
gotta
talk up, now.
Come
on, now, tell Sheriff Tom how old ya be." The
sheriff
raises his voice a little.

"
Ah twelve," Gump
y
whispers.

"Ya sure
ya
ain't
fourteen,
maybe fifteen?"

"Naw sir,
Ah twelve, Ah was twelve at
springtime," Gum py
whispers.

"What
they
call ya,
hu h? What's
ya
name?"
"Gumpy."

"What's ya
full name,
your
last nam
e?"
"Gumpy, they ju
s
t
call
m
e
thaL."

"Ya
got a
last name, boy?
What's
ya
mama's
nam
e,
huh?'"
"Lucy
Mae."

"Lucy
M ae.
Wh at
's
y a ma ma's
la
st
nam e, w h at
t h e
y ca
ll her?
"

"Lucy Mae
Thomas, she
say
m
y
na me
is
Roy."
'

D
e
puty H i l l
sho
u t
s
from the cellblock door. "Sheriff.
l
got
that
cell squared away,
yo
u
want
m
e
to
take his
black ass
down there now?"

Sheriff
Tom look
s
up.
then
glances at the clock on
the wall and
yells
back,
"I
tell
ya
what l want
ya
to
do
for
me, ho,\
·
bou t
goin
over
th
e
Rose
y
Gray and gettin
m
e
a
big
roast
ht>
ef.
get
me
a socla
too.
ancl. Ct>cil,
mak
e
that
two.''