Mississippi Cotton (27 page)

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Authors: Paul H. Yarbrough

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective

BOOK: Mississippi Cotton
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Cousin Trek and Cousin Carol had thought it better if we waited until my mother and daddy got up here before telling them about the events of the past few days. It was easier and less expensive than long distance, and I hadn’t gotten into any trouble or gotten hurt so it was something that could wait.

“What dead man?” Daddy asked from his end of the porch. “And who is Miss Sarah?”

“What’re y’all talkin’ about?” Farley looked jealous. He had missed something big and he knew it.

Everyone at both ends of the porch began speaking at the same time. The story was told, repeated, and then someone would ask a question that already had been answered. Finally the questions and answers tapered off and everyone having absorbed as much as they could, like a Thanksgiving feast, sat back and tried to digest the episode. An occasional question here and there lingered. Sorta like mopping gravy from your plate with bread crust, I thought.

“So Draco Marcus is no more, and Sarah Nash is going to the state hospital at Whitfield for examination?” Daddy asked.

“Yeah, at least for now. I don’t know if she’ll end up in prison or not. Far as I’m concerned, it was justifiable homicide,” Big Trek said.

“Looty and BB aren’t going to jail, are they?” Mother asked.

“No. Prob’ly not. It’s not clear that Looty did anything wrong himself. Maybe some misdemeanor. Looty was tryin’ to help his momma, and BB was tryin’ to help Looty. It’s not as if they killed anybody themselves. But they did interfere a bit, ‘cording to the law,” Big Trek said.

All of us boys including Farley had inched our way to the end of the porch. It was easier to hear and besides, the cookies that came with the iced tea were on that end.

“Well, what about the watch?” Mother asked. “What was that about? I still don’t understand. And David, please quit chewing your ice. I can’t hear myself think.”

“Well, anyway,” Cousin Carol began, “the watch was an old one. It had belonged to Mr. McComb. It had a place for a picture in it. Apparently nobody was sure just who, maybe his wife or even his father or mother’s picture, an early photo, had been in it. But when Mr. McComb left his place to Ben’s parents, he also left them the watch. He had no children of his own to leave it to.

“He had taken an old photograph of them working in the field and cut the pictures out in the shape of a circle that would fit into the watch. The thing is, after Draco Marcus killed Ben’s momma and daddy, he went rummaging through their house and among other things, I’m sure, stole the watch. I guess it was jus’ the Lord’s will that when he was rummaging he didn’t discover Ben sleeping in the upper loft. Otherwise Ben may have been a panther victim.”

Cousin Trek took up the explanation. “Ben didn’t even know there was a watch at the time. He was just a boy in 1899. And it didn’t show up until Sarah took it off Marcus’ body.”

Cousin Carol waved her hand at him. One of those shush hand waves. “I’m telling this, now you just wait.” She looked back at my mother. “But Sarah took it to Looty’s the last time she went there. And Billy Joe and the sheriff found it there the night it rained so hard.”

“Why’d she take it to Looty’s?” Daddy asked.

“I guess maybe she wanted Looty to keep it for BB and Ben. He was her son. I guess it was like Elizabeth keeping the land in trust for Ben’s momma and daddy.”

“Wonder why Marcus kept the photo inside the watch all these years?”

“Prob’ly remind him of his conquest. He was a sick you-know-what,” Cousin Trek said.

“He was a dirty, damn carpetbagging Yankee,” said Big Trek. Casey and Taylor and Farley and I laughed.

“Now, Big Trek,” Cousin Carol said. “Please, watch your language. Even if you don’t think there are ladies present, there are children here.”

With his pipe in his mouth he mumbled something, maybe I’m sorry. It wasn’t clear, but it was the best he was going to do.

Daddy tried to get the subject back to the watch. “Apparently, Ben saw the watch for the first time at the jail. And it was the first he had learned that his momma and daddy had been murdered.”

I thought back to Ben’s look when he’d been handed the watch—and his tears.

 

 

Farley was telling us everything there was to tell about cars—how to speed around curves and what to do if you fishtailed on a gravel road. Course he knew if he got caught doing something like that with our daddy’s car he wouldn’t be driving again until he got out of college. Daddy had let him use the car to take us all to the picture show on the condition that he was to be especially careful with us in the car. Farley kept it kind of slow going downtown; too much chance of being spotted. You were on the honor system when you drove your daddy’s car, but you didn’t want someone being honest for you.

The movie was pretty good, lots of action and planes shot down. John Wayne was wounded pretty bad, but he didn’t die like in Sands of Iwo Jima. He just got shot and had to bail out.

Most of the time after the show was over we would hang around the square until somebody picked us up, unless we rode our bikes. But we didn’t want to hang around town when we had a car to ride around in.

“Let’s go out and see Looty, or BB. I bet they’re home now,” I said.

“C’mon Farley, we don’t have to be home ‘til ten,” said Taylor.

“Okay, but put your head back inside the window, Casey. If you get killed, I’ll get blamed.”

Casey pulled himself back in. “You smoke yet, Farley?”

“Naa, I haven’t decided to yet. I got some friends that do though. They can’t smoke at home yet. Not even s’posed to smoke at all.”

“You think Dixie Daniels smokes?”

“Prob’ly. She’s in college now.”

“Yeah. I bet she’s a zuta geeka girlie thi or something.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Taylor said. We looked at Casey and laughed. I could see in the rearview mirror Farley was laughing, but didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“You know. She’s in one of them fraternalty things.”

“It’s a sorority, you dope. If it’s a girl,” Farley corrected him. “And it’s not a, whatever you called it. It’s a fraternity. Those are kinda boys clubs like things.”

“That’s what I say. No girls allowed,” Casey said.

“Yeah. Hamsters or no hamsters,” Taylor said.

Farley didn’t get our laughter.

There was a light in Looty’s window. His old truck was in the yard but that didn’t mean much. Farley pulled into the dusty driveway and turned off the engine and the lights. There was a moon but it wasn’t bright, and our eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark. It reminded me of the night we had sneaked out.

We pulled up next to the porch, which had no light at all. I stepped up into the darkness, squinting to see the door. It was like I was stepping into a closet. I reached behind to feel for one of the guys behind me.

“Hey, Jake.” Looty moved from the shadows. “Hey, Casey and Taylor. And I know you.” He looked at Farley. “You’re Jake’s brother.”

“What are you doin’ out here in the dark, Looty?” Casey asked.

“Seems kinda scary,” I said.

“I’m not scared. I jus’ like to sit out here sometimes.”

“Doncha have a porch light?” said Farley.

“Yeah. If it was on though it wouldn’t be dark, I guess. And I like sittin’ in the dark.”

“Nice goin,’ Farley,” I said.

“Shuddup, ya little stoop. You might have to walk home—in the dark.”

Casey laughed. Farley wasn’t sure if he was laughing at me or him, so he told Casey the same thing. He wouldn’t really make us walk home, but I decided to change the subject. “Is BB back at his house, too?”

“I think so. They took my momma away. She killed my daddy. So they put her in the hospital.”

“Yeah, we know. We’re sorry and all. But we were jus’ hoping they hadn’t put BB in jail. He was jus’ tryin’ to help you.”

“BB’s my best friend, like a brother. He used to tell me about Andrew and Silas. That’s why he helped me.”

“Who’re Andrew and Silas?” Farley asked.

“Two Confederates who were at Shiloh,” Taylor said.

Farley’s face was blank. It was fun to know something somebody a lot older than you didn’t know. I knew he had never heard of Andrew and Silas Chandler.

Taylor briefly told Farley about the two boys, Silas and Andrew. Silas was black, Andrew was white. When Andrew at fifteen went off to serve in the Confederate Army, his boyhood friend Silas, age seventeen, followed him. Andrew was captured and wounded. When Andrew was released, Silas cared for his wounds, saved his life and carried him home to Palo Alto, Mississippi.

Looty was slow, and we all were quiet for a minute. All we heard were frogs croaking from the branch, crickets with their high- pitched screeching, and a yard dog barking in the distance for any number of reasons dogs barked.

The night we were sneaking around out here there were no sounds. Or maybe our fear affected our hearing. The stars were out and it was a cool night. Not real cold like the desert got after the sun went down. Deserts reflected the heat. The Delta absorbed it all day, and it released ever so slowly at night. But it still felt good. This last night for my summer in the Delta felt special. I started to say something more about Andrew and Silas and more about what Big Trek had told us about them, but Looty finally spoke again.

“BB said that my daddy was jus’ a unfortunate man who thought of hisself only. He said maybe my momma would be home one day. But nobody was sure right now. He said we were lucky not to git more than jus’ fussed at by the judge and sheriff.”

Looty paused and stared into the night. The dog let out a long wail. Looty turned slowly in the direction of the sound. I thought he might change the subject, but didn’t. “He said we could’ve gone to the jail where I got sent for shootin’ those chickens that one time.”

“Well, we’re sure glad you didn’t have to go, Looty,” Taylor said.

“Yeah, really and truly,” Casey and Farley said almost in unison. Farley just said it because he thought he should, probably. He hadn’t gotten to know Looty in the last week like the rest of us had. In these three weeks I had come to know Looty as more than a simple-minded sharecropper. I felt like I had known him all my life.

“Me too. ‘Bout all you git to eat is buttermilk and beans and some cornbread. Hardly ever any honey or cheese or any real good stuff or nothin’. And, I only had one Co Cola, jus’ one time. One of the deputies giv’ it to me.”

Our eyes had gotten used to the dark now, and I could see the look on his face. It wasn’t a smile or a frown, just a plain look. It reminded me of an old guy who was in the picture shows when Mother and Daddy were little. A man named Buster Keaton. I saw him in the newsreel once, but I had never actually seen him in a picture show. Anyway, that was who Looty’s look reminded me of.

“And so you think BB’s home too, huh?” Casey asked.

“Yeah, I guess so. Did y’all know that Andrew was in jail once? He was in a jail up North after the Yankees caught him at Shiloh.”

His words returned to the black and white Confederates as if they were always present in his mind.

We told him we didn’t know, because we really didn’t. We had never even heard about Andrew and Silas until Big Trek had told us about them. Of course we hated to admit in front of Farley that there was anything we didn’t know about the story. We had to know more about something than he did. It was our biggest power over a guy with a driver’s license.

“He got what they call ‘exchanged’ before the war was o’er, and him and Silas went through the res’ of the war together.”

“You’re still gonna live here, aren’t you, Looty?” Casey asked. “I mean you’re not gonna move away or anything, huh?”

Looty didn’t answer, but I doubted he was going anywhere. He wasn’t the kind of man that could really leave the home he had known all his life. Besides, what would he do? I think Casey knew it but just wanted to say something nice to Looty.

“Maybe when you come down to visit your momma you can come by and visit us,” Farley said. I know he was just trying to be nice because the state hospital was just across the county line from Jackson. But it still sounded kind of dumb. ‘Hey, as long as you’re down visiting your lunatic mother, why not stop by and we can visit. Maybe make a day of it.’

All of us stared at Farley. Casey’s teeth clenched, Taylor rolled his eyes. Farley got a little defensive. “Well, he might come by, if he’s there anyhow.”

We said nothing. Looty spoke. “I would like to see your house. I sure would. Maybe I’ll come by if I go down there to see my momma.”

It was nice the way Looty tried helpin’ Farley, I thought. But I knew it would probably never happen. I doubted that Looty would ever see his mother again. She would be a lonely old lady in a hospital or prison and he would just be a simple-minded lonely man. Mother and son, apart.

Finally Taylor said, “We better get going. It’s almost nine thirty.”

We all said goodbye and I thought maybe we were supposed to shake Looty’s hand or something like I always saw my daddy do. But we didn’t know how to handle it, so we all just yelled, “See ya, Looty.”

“Bye y’all,” he said.

We left him on the porch. In the dark.

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