The Shining Badge (19 page)

Dent listened as the two screamed obscenities at Jennifer Winslow, but finally she cut them off and told them if they needed help to get out, she would call Billy Moon.

Dent watched the couple disappear, both cursing violently. He turned back to Jenny and said, “You’re not going to win the judge’s favor.”

“That’s what everybody says.”

“Who are you going to get to be the new jailer?”

“I’ve already got him. It’s Noah Valentine.”

Dent’s eyes opened wide, and he laughed. “Well, I’ll say this for you, Sheriff Jennifer Winslow, there’s never a dull moment around the sheriff’s office when you’re in charge.” He laughed and said, “Let me get some pictures of this hog wallow.”

CHAPTER TEN

Hummingbird Cake

The oil lamp sitting on the table beside the mirror cast a golden corona over the features of Noah Valentine. Carefully he drew the straight razor down the side of his cheek, wiped it against a towel to remove the shaving cream, then folded the razor and placed it carefully in the paper sack along with a few other small items. A thoughtfulness came to the big man then as he stared into the mirror, and he shook his head as if in doubt.
Don’t know if this is gonna work. I just don’t know.
Pushing the thought away, he picked up the paper sack, walked over and placed it into a larger bag, which contained his clothes. Taking one look around the small room, he hesitated, then said quietly, “Lord, if this thing works out, you gotta get involved in it, ’cause you know how folks are.”

Passing through the door, he stepped into the largest room of the house—combination kitchen, dining room, and living area. His glance ran over the youngsters sitting around the table, who all turned to look at him as he entered. He walked over to his mother and kissed her on the cheek. “Breakfast smells good, Mama.”

“You set down and eat.”

“I don’t reckon I’ll have time. The sheriff said for me to be there a little bit early so she could show me around.”

“You gonna be a policeman?”

Noah turned and looked at the bright-eyed girl with skin like chocolate who was staring at him with enormous eyes. Noah shook his head and laughed shortly. “No, Euphonia,
I ain’t gonna be
in
the jail. I’ll be taking care of the people what is, cooking for ’em and stuff like that.”

“You sit down and have a cup of coffee,” Hattie Valentine said. “You got time for that.”

Noah took his seat and looked around at the four children, ranging in age from six to fourteen. He gave thanks quickly for the help he had been able to give his mother. Since the death of George Valentine, it had been Noah who had been the strong right arm of his mother, Hattie. Now as she hovered over him, touching him once on the shoulder as if to reassure herself somehow, he knew she was troubled. Finishing the coffee, he rose from the table and picked up his sack. “You chil’uns be good and mind Mama, you hear me?” He nodded at the chorus of agreement, then walked outside. His mother followed him, and when he turned he saw the fear in her eyes. “You worried about this, ain’t you, Mama?”

“Yes, I am.”

“It’s gonna be all right. You done met Miss Winslow. You knows what a good woman she is. She doin’ this to help us as much as to help herself. She got a hard job, Mama. You gotta pray for her. Both of us do every day.”

“But people ain’t gonna like it hiring a black man to take white folks’ place.”

“That’s probably so,” Noah said calmly. He reached out, pulled her forward, and held her tightly. She seemed very small and frail against his massive strength, and he whispered, “It’s gonna be all right. The good Lord will be with us.” He straightened up, stepped back, and said, “I’ll be gettin’ a regular salary now, so we’ll be able to buy the young’uns clothes, and I’ll be bringin’ groceries out every Saturday. If you need anything, you let me know, you hear, Mama?”

“I hear.”

Noah smiled briefly, then turned and left. He plunged down the road, and as he walked rapidly toward town, some of the trouble he saw in his mother seemed to descend upon him. It was not going to be easy, this job that had come to him
seemingly out of heaven. He thought back over his life and, as always, wished that he had been a better man, but then he shook his head and said aloud, “Lord, I done repented of all my past sins. You said they are buried in the sea as far as the east is from the west. So, Lord, you will just have to look out for me, ’cause I ain’t got nobody else who will.” He walked rapidly for a hundred paces and then added, “Except for Sheriff Winslow. Lord, that is a good woman, but she is in for big trouble. So I’m askin’ you to take care of her. Bless her in every way, for she needs all the help she can get.”

Five minutes after Noah prayed, a truck came along, and when it stopped Jesse Cannon stuck his head out. “You goin’ to town, Noah?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Cannon, I is.”

“Get in. It’s a long walk.”

“Thank you, suh.” Noah opened the door, got in, and the truck sagged with his weight. “Appreciate the ride, Mr. Cannon.”

“No charge, Noah. How’s your family?” he asked as he put the truck into motion again.

“Mighty fine, suh.”

Jesse Cannon was a tall, lean man with silver hair. He was a Civil War veteran, but his eyes were still clear, and he had the strength that some old men have late in life. “I heard about your new job. Think you’ll like it?”

“I ’spect I will, Mr. Cannon.” Noah turned and studied the features of the old man, who had always been kind to him. “Miss Winslow’s mighty nice takin’ care of me like this.”

“Fine woman. Comes from a fine family.”

The two talked amiably for, indeed, Jesse Cannon and his wife, Dolly, were two people with white skin whom Noah trusted implicitly. He felt comfortable and spoke his heart to Cannon until they pulled up in front of the jail. Noah got out, picked up his sack, and nodded. “I thank you, suh, for the ride. It was mighty nice.”

“You’re welcome. Hope it goes well, Noah.”

Noah Valentine turned and walked up the steps leading into the county offices. His eyes picked up Merle Arp, who stood just outside the door watching him. Arp’s hat was pulled down over his brow, and his eyes gleamed balefully.

“Morning, Deputy Arp.”

“You’re makin’ a mistake, nigger.” Arp’s mouth twisted in a sneer. “You won’t last long. You might as well quit. Turn around and go back right now.”

Noah had lived in a white man’s world for all of his life. He had learned to put on a completely blank mask when cursed by white men, and he did so now. Without another word he passed in through the door, leaving Arp glaring after him. He turned once to his right, and as he entered the sheriff’s office, he saw the sheriff behind the long desk working with Ruby French.

“Mornin’, Sheriff.”

“Noah, you’re here early.”

“Yes, ma’am. I guess I am a little bit.”

“Well, that’s fine. Come along. We’ll go over your duties.”

Noah followed Jenny Winslow as she stepped into the corridor, and then the two of them passed into the living quarters.

“Oh no!”

Noah came to stand beside Jenny and looked around. The room looked as if a tornado had swept through it. Trash was everywhere. The bedclothes were scattered. In the kitchen filthy dishes were scattered across the cabinets, and Noah stood there silently.

“They did this deliberately!” Jenny exclaimed.

“Don’t you worry, Sheriff. I can clean it up.”

The two moved into the pantry, and a quick examination revealed that the Porters had taken every item of food except for what they had emptied and strewn on the floor.

“You’ll have to start all over again with the groceries, Noah. Look, go down to the general store and get what you need to make breakfast for the inmates. Come back as quick as
you can, cook something up, and feed them. Mr. Huntington knows you’ll be coming, so he’ll charge it for you.”

Jenny shook her head in disgust. She reached to her belt and removed a ring full of keys and handed them to Noah. “Here are all the keys you’ll need, Noah. You can figure which ones fit the locks.”

Noah reached out slowly and took the keys. Somehow he felt a fear that he could not keep bottled. He held the keys in his huge hand, staring at them as if they had some strange power. For a black man to have the authority over white men was unheard of in this part of the world. He looked up, met Jenny’s eyes, and saw she was watching him intently. The two stood there silently, almost like two different species outwardly—Noah over six feet, six inches tall, weighing two hundred sixty pounds, his skin black as ebony, and Jennifer Winslow a foot shorter, with red hair and creamy complexion. She had known money, wealth, and influence, and Noah had known nothing but poverty and hard times. Still, they were both struggling to fit into a white
man’s
world, and this connected the two somehow. Jenny suddenly reached up to pat Noah’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry,” she said quietly. “It’s going to be fine.”

Noah blinked, then summoned up a smile. “I’ll do my very best for you, Sheriff. You see if I don’t! I’ll go fetch them groceries now.”

****

As Noah entered the Huntington General Store, he saw the owner standing beside the meat counter. Huntington was a tall man of forty, thin with hazel eyes and blond hair. Noah went at once to stand before him. Looking down, he said, “The sheriff, she axed me to pick up a few groceries, Mr. Huntington. I’se the new jailer.”

“I heard about it, Noah. Well, you’re all cleared. Take what you want, and I’ll write it down for you.”

“Thank you, suh. I’ll just get a few things now to fix breakfast with, then I’ll come back and stock up.”

Noah moved quickly down the aisle to collect a few items: two dozen eggs, three pounds of bacon, bread, butter, salt and pepper. Huntington wrote it up and put the items in a sack. “Where’d you learn how to cook, Noah?”

“My mama taught me, I reckon. When my daddy died, me and Mama had to make out as best we could. She was sick a lot, so I had to be cook and everything else.”

“Well, I think you’ll do a better job than what the prisoners have been used to. Good luck to you.”

“Thank you, Mistuh Huntington. I’ll be back right soon.”

Noah returned to the jail and quickly prepared breakfast. Putting it on trays, he ascended the stairs and unlocked the steel door. When he went inside he had a moment’s hesitation but then shook it away. “Breakfast time!” he called. As he walked down the hall toward the rec room, he saw the prisoners all staring at him. “I’s the new jailer. My name’s Noah Valentine. Let me set this down, then you’uns kin eat.”

Noah quickly set the tray down, then went to unlock all the doors. There were seven male prisoners and three female, and when they filed into the dining area, Noah was aware of their scrutiny. He had become an expert in studying people’s faces, and two of the male prisoners were staring at him with naked antagonism in their eyes. He thought,
They don’t like black people, but I bet they’ll like some good food.

“Didn’t have time to fix a lot, but there’s plenty of scrambled eggs and bacon and toast with jam.”

“How come we have to have a nigger jailer?” The speaker was a small, rat-faced man, who had not shaved in at least a week. He glared at Noah, his fists tightened and his back stiff as a board.

“That’s just the way it is,” Noah said quietly. “I’ll do the best I kin to feed you right and to keep this place clean.”

“Aw, Fred, you’d complain if they hung you with a new
well rope!” Jimmy Duo laughed and nodded at Noah. “That smells mighty good, Noah. Let’s have it.”

The prisoners all took their plates and passed by, loading them down with the bacon and eggs. Noah had put the toast on a big platter, and the slices disappeared quickly. “I’ll be makin’ biscuits in the mornin’,” Noah said. “I’ll go down and fetch the coffee.”

As he left, Noah heard the murmur of voices, some protesting and others pleased. Going downstairs, he simply picked up the huge coffee urn by the two handles and walked back upstairs with it. He filled the cups and passed them out to the inmates, making the sugar and condensed milk available to them. When they were all eating, he ran his eyes around the faces of the prisoners. It was a sad sight to him. Since he had been in jail himself, he knew the hopelessness that could exist there.

“Hey, these eggs are cooked good!”

Jimmy Duo was the speaker, and he raised his fork in a gesture of triumph. “It’s great to have a hot meal for once.”

“It
is
good,” one of the women said. She had a hard face and stared at Noah for a moment, as if weighing him, then nodded. “I hope you can cook something besides bacon and eggs.”

“I’ll do my best, ma’am,” Noah said.

Finally, when the meal was over, Noah looked over the group, who sat there drinking coffee, several of them still munching on the buttered toast layered with blackberry jam. “It’s my job to clean dis place too,” Noah said, his eyes running around to meet the faces that were watching him intently. “It’s my job to clean it, but it be real nice if you folks would help me keep it clean.”

“I ain’t doin’ none of your work!”

Jimmy Duo said, “Oh, shut up, Fred! I’ll help Noah. Since this is just about my home full-time, I want to keep it nice. We’ll start out on them bathrooms. They ain’t been cleaned since Adam was born.”

Noah said, “We do that as soon as I take care of these dishes, and I ’spect your sheets need launderin’, don’t they?”

“They ain’t been washed in a coon’s age,” a short, fat man with a round, red face said. “And the bugs are terrible.”

Noah said quietly, “I’m right sorry you have to be here. Some of you knows I’ve been in jail myself. I knows whut it’s like. I’ll do the bes’ I can to make it as good as it can be.”

When Noah left, Jimmy Duo said with satisfaction, “Well, if he can cook dinner and supper as good as he can breakfast, we’re gonna be all right.”

The inmate named Fred opened his mouth. “I don’t want no—”

“Shut up, Fred!” Jimmy said amiably. “The worst part of bein’ in this jail is listenin’ to your gripin’. We got a good thing here. Now, you just keep your mouth shut!”