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Authors: Guy Johnson

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Standing at the Scratch Line (64 page)

BOOK: Standing at the Scratch Line
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Serena just nodded her head. She was speechless. The merchandise that he had purchased hardly made a dent on her consciousness. She held in her hands a delicate ruby pendant on a golden chain that he had given her, but it did not register. She was thrilled just to sit and look at her husband, who was finally home after a long and probably dangerous trip. There was no doubt in her mind that he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. The feeling of fatigue seemed to drop away from her as she watched him. Even Sampson, who rarely smiled, was laughing as he helped King unload the heavy crates.

“Hold on a minute there, Sampson,” King said with a chuckle as Sampson carried a narrow box out of the truck. “That one’s for you. Go ahead and open it.”

Sampson went over and sat down with the box and opened it very carefully as if it were explosives. Inside the box was a new rifle with a telescopic sight enclosed in a chamois sheath. Sampson took the rifle lovingly out of its sheath and sighted down the barrel. The smile on his face said what his tongue could not. He let his hand run lightly over the tooled surface of the barrel. He was very pleased.

“That ain’t all, folks. There’s more!” King said cheerfully and climbed back in the truck and brought out three paper-wrapped packages. “There’s one for each of us.” He handed a package to both Serena and Sampson. Serena and Sampson looked at each other, then began to unwrap the gifts. King was too impatient to wait for them to neatly open the packages. “Go ahead and tear the paper!” he urged them.

“No, save the paper,” Serena advised. “This is good-quality butcher paper. We can use this to wrap dry goods.” She opened the package and saw a beaver-skin coat. She was silent. It was something that she had longed for ever since seeing Olivia Little’s coat. Sampson had received a beaver-skin coat as well. He rubbed the fur against his face. Then he stood and put the coat on and turned around while running his fingers through the rich pelt.

“I knowed we didn’t have no winter coats when we came here,” King observed happily. “I picked these up at the best furrier I could find in Shreveport. Now we’s ready for the cold. Bring on the snow!”

Sampson turned and walked into the store without a word. King looked at Serena questioningly, but she dismissed his concern with a wave. She had seen the tears trickling down Sampson’s face before he went inside and knew what he was feeling. It was a feeling that she too shared. No one had ever given her gifts that indicated or demonstrated that she was loved. It brought tears to her eyes as well, but she was under no pressure to hide hers. She ran to King and buried her face in his chest.

“I missed you so and you never called.” She sobbed in his arms. “I was beginning to think that maybe you were dead, or—” She thought about the letter from Mamie and fell silent.

“I done explained that it was mo’ dangerous to call than let things be,” King answered in an understanding tone. “Now I knows if I has to go away again, you wants to hear from me regular like. You gon’ have my lawyer’s number in New York. You’ll be able to check with him, ’cause if I can’t talk to you direct, I’ll call him.”

Their embrace was interrupted by the entrance of Marshal Bass, Flo Nesbitt, and Mace Edwards. Serena wiped away her tears and looked questioningly in their direction.

Flo Nesbitt’s eyes were also red. She stuttered as she began to speak. “I ju-just ca-came by to tell you how gr-grateful I am that you saved my daughter’s life, Mr. Tremain. She’s my only child, the only family I have. I am—” Flo broke down and began to cry in raucous sobs. She would have slumped to the ground if Mace had not come to her assistance.

Serena rushed to Flo’s side. “What happened? Did something happen to Clara?”

“Your husband didn’t tell you?” Marshal Bass asked. Serena shook her head and looked at King inquiringly.

“He saved Clara’s life!” Mace interjected. “Some white men had run Clara’s car off the road and were forcing themselves on her when your husband stopped them.”

“When was this?” Serena asked.

Mace answered. “She was returning early this morning from getting the Bodie Wells
Clarion
published in Johnsonville when three white men forced her car off the road. They must have been waiting for her.”

“She shouldn’t be driving alone at that time of the morning,” Bass commented.

“I couldn’t stop her,” Mace said. “You know how headstrong she can be.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Serena asked King.

“There was so much to talk about, I just didn’t get around to it,” King explained with a shrug. “Serena, why don’t you take care of Mrs. Nesbitt and I’ll talk to Mace and the marshal?”

Serena acceded with a nod of her head, but it was clear that she didn’t like being sent away. She turned and went to minister to Flo.

“Clara said that you killed at least two of the men,” Bass said to King. “I need to know exactly where this happened so I can get out to those bodies before someone else finds them. If those bodies get carried into Clairborne, there’ll be hell to pay for the folks in Bodie Wells. The man who got away has probably already made it into Clairborne.”

King gave Mace a questioning look and then looked at Bass. “I don’t know Mace that well, Marshal. You vouchin’ for him? I wouldn’t like nobody to go runnin’ to Clairborne with what I got to say.”

“Mace won’t ever go runnin’ to Clairborne and I vouch for him as a steady man in any situation. Tell me where the bodies are.”

King chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, the two that’s dead, they’s already buried where no one will ever find them. And I knicked the third man pretty good. He ain’t gon’ be goin’ nowhere in a hurry for a long time. If I had mo’ time I’d found him and done him too!”

“What about their car?” Bass asked.

“Me and Sampson went out and picked it up early this mo’nin’ befo’ first light. I done dropped it off at Octavius Boothe’s shop. I’m sho’ he gon’ have it disassembled by this evenin’. I didn’t leave no evidence but the last man, and me and Sampson looked all over for him, but he must’ve crawled beneath the underbrush. We couldn’t find him nowhere.”

“Where did you bury the other two?” Bass asked.

“Dropped ’em down an old mining shaft a mile or so off Old Lubbuck Road with a couple of hand grenades. They won’t be findin’ them bodies soon.”

“What about the third man? How good did you knick him?” Bass couldn’t let loose his pursuit until he was assured that Bodie Wells would be safe from reprisals by the whites in Clairborne. “Do you think he made it to the road?”

“He got one point thirty-oh-six bullet in the leg and one in the shoulder,” King answered in a matter-of-fact tone. “I don’t think he made the road. He didn’t turn and fight once while I was huntin’ him. He ain’t got the grit to make the road with all the pain he’s feelin’. He done gone to ground somewhere. Couldn’t track his trail of blood in the dark and when we returned the wind had picked up and the trail was gone. Now, I just want the temperature to drop below freezin’ and we can leave him where he lays. Let the weather take care of him.”

Flo Nesbitt walked over and stood swaying on the edge of the conversation. The men looked at her, then continued their exchange.

“What if some good ol’ boys find him,” Bass challenged, “before he dies?”

“He didn’t never see me. All he saw was my bullets,” King answered with a shrug. “His two friends is gone and so is the car. Ain’t nothin’ left to show what happened, ’cause me and Sampson cleaned up the place good when we went back for the car. What he gon’ say? What he gon’ tell ’em? This just gon’ be another one of them prairie mysteries.”

“What about my daughter? What about justice?” Flo screamed. She rubbed her swollen and tear-reddened eyes. She had become nauseated by the men’s discussion. They talked as if they were discussing the affairs of a breed mare. They were concerned with distant intellectual concepts such as evidence and blame, but not one word addressed the tragedy and violation done to one of the women of their town. It was intolerable. She turned and walked away without a further word. Serena gave King a questioning look and followed Flo to make sure she was alright.

King looked at Mace. “She got all the justice she gon’ get from that particular white man. I bet, if he lives, he don’t go on no more night rides with the boys. She push for any more than that and I’ll be on the block too.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Bass advised. “As soon as she gets a chance to think about it, she’ll see the light. I knows she didn’t get a chance to say it like she wanted, but she’s real grateful to you, King. From now on, you’ll always have her in your corner and she’s a good friend to have.”

Mace stuck out his hand to shake hands with King. “We don’t know each other, Mr. Tremain, but your intervention on Clara’s behalf has made me also want to become your friend. And you don’t need to worry about anything that’s said. Everything that we’ve discussed will be kept close to the chest for as long as I live.”

“Speakin’ of keepin’ things close to the chest,” Bass moved closer to the two men and dropped his voice, “we gon’ have to say somethin’ that gon’ end all the questions about this, ’cause you know some Negroes can’t keep their mouths shut. Clara told me somethin’ that could turn this into a powder keg. She said she recognized the third man and he was Frank Bolton.”

“That’s Big Daddy Bolton’s son?” King asked. Everyone knew Big Daddy. Within his first week in Bodie Wells, King had heard his name mentioned several times.

“Sho’ is,” Bass confirmed. “Frank is a pretty big turnip in the Klan too. Now, we got to find a way to wrap this thing up so it don’t start no race war. We don’t want the sheriff in Clairborne ridin’ in here with twenty, thirty men roustin’ folks.”

“Why don’t we say that the men done this to her got away? And she didn’t recognize them ’cause they was hooded.”

Mace nodded. “That’s good! I like that! By the time she was found they had escaped. We brought her straight to the doctor back to town. She didn’t see any of her attackers clearly. So we don’t know who the men are.”

“We could even float out some kind of reward for information that leads to the capture of them criminals.”

“What do we say they done to her?” Bass prodded, remaining focused on his task. “If it gets out that she was raped, the next white man found dead somewheres will make the people in Clairborne think one of us did it for revenge.”

“Let’s just say they roughed her up pretty good, which they did,” Mace suggested. “I know it won’t stop the gossip in the town, but if it’s the official word, the fools in Clairborne will accept it. Maybe if Clara and I move up our marriage plans, that might—” Mace left his thought unfinished.

“Don’t do nothin’ to change yo’ plans,” Bass countered. “Ain’t nothin’ you can do. Folks gon’ talk. All we can do is make sho’ ain’t nothin’ real they can base it on.” Serena returned with a pitcher of water and offered a metal ladle around.

Bass doffed his Stetson to Serena. “No thanks, ma’am. I’ve got to get over to the doctor’s office. Then I’ll have to check on Mrs. Nesbitt.” He turned to King and said, “We ain’t gon’ say nothin’ ’bout you bringin’ her in, King. That way can’t no finger point to you. But some of us will know that you did a hero’s job this mornin’. Good day to you.”

“He speaks for me too,” Mace said, extending his hand again.

“I’s glad I was there on time,” King said as he shook Mace’s hand. “But there’s a couple questions that’s botherin’ me. Was they waitin’ for her, or was it the luck of the draw they got her? And if they was waitin’ for her, how’d they know she was gon’ be there?”

“It bears some thought,” Bass said, rubbing his mustache. “If you wouldn’t mind takin’ a ride with me, I’ll stop by for you late this afternoon.”

“Sho’ ’nough, Marshal.”

Bass looked at the truck and all the merchandise that had been unloaded. “Looks like you got a small fortune in goods here.”

“And I got a bill of sale for every man jack piece of it too,” King answered with a smile.

Bass returned his smile. “I’ll bet you do. I’ll bet you do.”

Mace and Marshal Bass walked toward the small alley created by the opening between Dorsett’s cabinet shop and the apothecary and subsequently disappeared around the corner.

“Negro, when were you going to tell me?” Serena said with her hands on her hips and a playful smile on her face.

“Tell you what?” King asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You know what I’m talking about!” she said pointing her finger at him. “This morning! All the stuff that you did this morning.”

“Did the carpenters finish all the work in the store?”

“Yes, but I don’t see what that has—”

“When was you gon’ tell me about it? Seems to me that’s way more important to us than Clara Nesbitt’s business.”

Serena moved closer to King until her breasts were touching his chest. She looked up into his eyes. “Oh, so you want to argue with your wife after you have been away for both Thanksgiving and Christmas? You’re a hard case, King Tremain.”

“Ain’t no harder than the woman I married.”

Sampson came out of the store with his mouth full and a hunk of bread in his hand. His cheek was bulged with the bread he was chewing.

“Are you hungry, Sampson?” Serena asked.

Sampson stopped and looked at the bread in his hand and then back at Serena. His expression seemed to say, “Sure I’m hungry! Why do you think I have a pound of bread in my hand?” but all he did was gesture that he was hungry.

Serena grabbed King’s arm. “Why don’t I make us a big breakfast of eggs, grits, and sausage?”

“Sounds like a dream come true,” King said, giving Serena a squeeze. “I ain’t been eatin’ much regular food. Just let me and Sampson lock the truck and the barn and we’ll be right in.”

“I’ll wait here for you,” Serena answered as King and Sampson hurried to secure the new shipment. Sampson put the rear gate on the truck and drove it all the way into the barn. After he came out King placed a heavy crossbar on the door and locked it down with a large iron padlock.

As they ascended the stairs to enter the back door of the store, Serena had King and Sampson arm in arm on either side of her. “We’ll sit down to the first family meal we’ve had in a real long time,” she announced as they entered the darkness of the store.

BOOK: Standing at the Scratch Line
8.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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