Billy (24 page)

Cinder falls to th
e
ground
,
D
e
put
y
Hill l
e
ts h
e
r fall but holds on to h
e
r hair u ntil th
e
light
s c
om
e
out of th
e
n
ig
ht
a
nd gather around th
e
m, he l
e
ts go o
f
h
er
hai
r
and
s
t
e
p
s away.

Sheriff Tom st
e
p
s
fon
v
ard, hold
s
the night-light abo
ve
, and shines its beam down
o
nto Billy
,
but onl
y
s
e
e
s
th
e
back of hi
s
head buried in his mother's breast. He rea
c
hes down
a
nd yanks
o
n Billy's should
e
r
,
j
e
rks hi
s face
around
,
th
e
n
s
t
eps
back and mumbles somethin
g
qui
e
tl
y.

"Huh, Sh
e
riff?
"
D
e
puty Hill a
s
k.

Sh
e
riff Tom is
s
il
e
nt, but wav
es
hi
s
light o
ve
r Cind
e
r
's face
. P
e
te Grayson comes up with his night-light and swa
y
s it
s
light a
c
ross the woman d
e
speratel
y
holdin
g
h
e
r
c
hild and h
e
r

fa
ce
awa
y
from th
e
lights.

"
Damn
,
Sh
e
riff, h
o
w old
's
thi
s
littl
e
ni
gge
r?
"
P
e
t
e
Gra
ys
on ask
s.

Th
e s
heriff is
s
il
e
nt
,
tak
es a fe
w d
ee
p br
ea
th
s,
th
e
n mum
bl
e
s, "C
ec
il, g
e
t that boy away from h
e
r
,
g
e
t him aw
ay
.
"

D
e
puty Hill
g
lan
ces
at Sh
e
riff Tom
,
th
e
n mo
ves
tow
a
rd
s
Cind
e
r and Bill
y.

Cri
es a
nd
sc
r
ea
m
s
t
e
ar into th
e
nigh t. P
e
t
e Grays
on
sees
Cind
e
r'
s
fac
e, a
nd now h
e
i
s s
il
e
nt.

6

Fred Sneed had come through the early-morning shadows on Front Street. Sundays were always slow getting started in Banes
.
Folks took their time getting things goin, streets wer
e

just about empty, but Fred had found some of his sittin bud dies,
J.
J.
Gates and Dexter Clayton alread
y
sitting out front of the Rosey Gray. They were all men in their seventies and

eighties, chewed and spit tobacco as the
y
talked. Fred Sn
e
ed looked like he might be the oldest, had deep wrinkles in hi
s
sunken face
,
but he still had a quick eye.

J. J.
Gates and Dexter Clayton sat staring out into th
e
mid

dle of the empty street, their faces tight and their mouth
s
tightly closed. Fred Sneed was still talki n
.

"Ain't had nothin like this since that nigger went wild o
ve
r in Greene. Can't have this, can't have it. Ah seen
it
spr
e
ad
, g
it

10.1

104 I Albert French

one wild one, next thing ya know, got more of em. Ah tell ya, can't have it." Fred spit some tobacco juice from his mouth and looked up and down the empty street, then spoke again, "Ah tell ya, it ain't right, ya just can't have that around."

"Sheriff got em both down there now."
J.
J.
Gates leaned

back in his
chair
as he spoke.

"That
ain't sheriffin business." Fred
Sneed
snapped his words.

"Nigger like that need hog-guttin," Dexter Clayton
said
through clenched teeth.

"Should have got it done last night," Fred Sneed
spit
and spoke.

"Sheriff chased em out of there," J. J
.
Gates
spoke again
.
"Should have burnt the whole damn nest out," Dexter

Clayton snarled.

"It ain't right, what he done. Sheriff ought ta know
better."
Fred Sneed is fuming. He wipes the tobacco
juice
from his mouth, takes a deep
sigh,
and turns and looks up through the morning shadows to where the jail
sits,
then looks back down a
t
his own shadow and says, "Just
can't
have this."

Over on Third Street, Doctor Henry P.
Grey
liked lo take his Sundays slow and easy,
specially
if he had
some of
them Saturday-night baby deliverins, or
some
Dillion Street drunk to sew up. Sunday mornings for Doctor
Grey was easy
time. He set sipping on his
coffee
and watched the
sunlight
filter through the window,
bu t yesterday
was
still on
hi
s
mind.

Constance Grey was a northern
woman,
met her husband in Ohio when he was
going
to medical
school,
that was thirty four years ago. Sunda
y
mornings
for
h
er
were special, she
brings her coffee into her husband's office, where he
sits,
now,
staring
down at the forms on his desk. She
sits
in the
chair
by his desk, but he does not look up.

B I L L
y
I
105

"Do you have to get that done now?"

"Mize
well, before Tom gets here," Doc Grey answers with- out looking up.

"What's
going to happen now, Henry?
"

"I don't know."

"Those colored
boys are just
so
young, Henry." Constance sighs and looks away.

Doctor Grey is silent, but starts to fill out the forms on his desk. He knows the sheriff will want the exact cause of Lori Pasko's death. He knows the sheriff will be by to talk to him, ask more questions than he can answer.

Constance looks back at her husband, sighs, and says,
"This
is so terrible, this whole thing is just awful. What's get ting into people? They're so young too."

"That
little girl is dead,'' Doctor Grey whispers. "What do you think will happen to them, Henry?" "There will be a trial."

"What
will happen then?"

Doctor Grey is silent, and the room becomes quiet except for the scratchy sound of the pencil he is using to fill out Lori Pasko's coroner's report.

Over at the office of the Banes County
Times,
Harvey Jakes is having his morning
coffee.
His eyes are
strained
from be ing up most of the night, his tie is loose
and
hangs dangling from his neck, but his moves are quick as he leans back in his chair. His head jerks a little as the outer door rattles, he hopes it's who he thinks it might be.

The clicking taps
of
heels
come
through the outer office and Harvey Jakes smiles as Helen Marks
comes
into his office.