Billy (25 page)

"Good
morning, Mister Jakes. I thought I'd find
you still
here," Helen
says
wi th a
smile on
h
e
r face.

"Didn't
expect
to
see you
th is morni ng, thought
you'd be

106 I Albert French

getting
ready for
Sunday school,"
Harvey Jakes says, smiling and looking up at H
e
len Marks.

"Oh,
Mister Jakes, I don't go to Sunday
school,"
Helen teases.

"
Glad
you stopped
by. I wanted to thank
you." "Thank
me for
what,
Mister Jakes?"

"If
it wasn't for
you,
I could not have done it."

"Oh,
Mister Jakes,
you
don't have
to
thank me. I just
wanted
to see
you
get the extra out. I think
it's
great that
y
ou did it. Folks are really going to
be
talking. I bet they're
going
to be
reading
about this for hundreds of miles. I
bet
we won't get any returns. Everybody is going to
buy a
paper, just
you
wait and see," Helen
says,
then swishe
s
around Harve
y
Jakes' desk and looks
down
at the paper
sheets
with
the
big
headline print.

"Which one
did
you
use,
Mister
Jakes?"

"I
was
going to use that top
one, but the sheriff got
that
other
boy last night,
got
him
out behind the
Patch,
so
I had to go
with
the 'KILLER
CAPTURED'
in
s
tead
of 'KILLER ON
THE
LOOSE,' "
Harvey
says, gleaming.

"I
like
your
lead,
it's real good," Helen speaks softly as she
reads the
subheadline and first
paragraph
aloud: " 'Sheriff cap
tures two
colored in the brutal slaying of fifteen-year-old
Lori
Pasko who
died of multiple knife wounds. . . .' " Helen stops
and looks
at Harvey, saying, "This is
the
biggest story in
the whole
state. This
is
good.
This
is going to be so exciting. . . ."
Harvey Jakes
sits smiling,
Helen
ask if he wants another cup
of coffee
and
takes his
cup to
the
coffee
pot. When
she comes
back to his desk,
she sits
on
the
c
orner of
it and looks down at Harvey Jakes
and says, "Mister
Jakes, I've been
out

of Sunday
school for years."

B I L L Y
I
107

"I was only teasing, just teasing," Harvey says, blushing. Helen smiles.

Down at the end of Dillion Street and up the tracks some, Pete Grayson sits out on his back porch, he's been sitting there since first light of day, just looking out at the early-morning sky. Folks knew Pete Grayson for his distant ways and them
coon
dogs he could run; some folks remembered his young years, when he had them good looks, that straight black hair and them flashy blue eyes, remembered his Saturday-night days and that quick temper of his, but when he married Holly Pratt, that put an end to his Saturday-night days and ways. He had two boys, but they both moved out, now it's just him, Holly, and his nineteen-year-old daughter, Kelly.

Kelly Grayson has her daddy's looks, tall and slender
with
that jet-black hair and flashy blue eyes. When she opens up the back door and comes out on the porch, Pete Grayson looks up and smiles.

"Daddy,
what ya you
want another cup of coffee," Kelly asks as she pushes the hair out of her eyes.

"No, honey," Pete Grayson says softly.

Kelly walks to the edge of the porch and
stands
stretching her arms and back, then sits down on the top steps and looks out into the morning.

It's quiet for a while, Kelly feels the sun come to her face, but mostly feels the silence on her back. She turns to her father.

"What's wrong, Daddy, why you so quiet?"

"Oh, just sittin, thinkin, thinkin how pretty you are," Pete Grayson says with a smile.

"Oh, Daddy, you ain't thinkin that. Why are you so quiet, what's wrong?"

l OB I Al/Jeri French

Pete
G rayson sm iles,
takes a sigh, and
looks
out
past h is daughter
anrl
in to the fain t
greens of
the distant fields and
the
blues
of
the
sky.

·'Mama says you wen t
with the
sheriff
and helped
get
them niggers last night. Mama
says
if it
wasn't
for
you
them niggers would have
got away. Said
you
caught
them down past the Patch, had to
chase
them way out in that swampland back
there. She says
that nigger did the killin
wasn't
nothin but a boy.
Says
ya all had to chase him and his mama real far fore
you could catch
them."

Kelly's
still
talking, but Pete Grayson
sighs and
looks far,
past
where the
sun comes
from.

Sheriff
Tom had
slept
on the cot in his
office.
Although he lived right around the corner from the jail with his wife and two daughters, he always
stayed
at the jail if he had prisoners in a homicide
or some
other
serious crime. Most of
the time, he leaves about mid night, after his Dillion Street drunks
so
bered up, or he just lock up and leave
anyway.

The sheriff liked to take his Sundays
doing
as little
as
pos sible, maybe
sneakin
out the house and
goin over
on
th
e
other
side of
the blacktop to
get some
fishin in the
river.
He'd been
sheriff
in Banes for twenty-eight
years and was
the part time deputy five
years
before he became
sheriff.
His full name was Thomas Jonathan Liebenguth,
but folks
just knew him as Sheriff Tom.
He
had his
ways
and
was known for
them. Had
to
do the things he did.
Folks
that did n't
see,
heard
about
the
sheriff
killing Zachary Hi ggins when the
sheriff
was still a deputy. Zachary Higgins went berserk and killed his wife
and two child ren
with
an ax
.
The
sheriff
told Zachary Higgins he
would
kill him if he didn't put the ax down. Zachary
Hi
ggins
lau
ghed, and
the
sheriff shotgunned
hi m. As time passed,
folks
became
sure
that the
sheriff
would

B J L L
y
I 109

do exactly what he said he was going to do. He had told
old
man Henry's boy Sam to stay out of his
sight.
Sam been
out
of jail and the state penitentiary past countin. He was down on Dillion Street, been drinkin all day and was all liquored up. He came
at
Sheriff Tom with a broken bottle, just like a mad dog. Sheriff
shot
him twice but he kept
comin
until the sheriff shot him again, then he went down. That's when folk
s
say Sheriff Tom just
went
over to him
,
mumbled somethin
,
and
shot
him right in the head, then turned around and
shot
at them dogs that were barkin.

Sheriff Tom took his sheriffin seriously, didn't like nobody getting into his business, like to turn in
a
clean and orderl
y
report. Folks had different things to
say
about Sheriff Tom, but everybody gave him his lead.

Sheriff Tom was up now, been up
since
dawn, and wa
s
sit
ting at his desk sipping coffee, waiting
on
Cecil Hill to
come
in, and scribbling on his notepad. He had the knife he found in Billy's pocket laying on the desk and
was
thinking about the evidence he had and the statements he'd get, then h
e
backed away from his thoughts when he thought about bring ing in Jenny Curran to identify the prisoner, the
State
would want that. The
sheriff sighed,
looked al the light
coming
through the window, then glanced at his wat
c
h. He knew h
e
'd have to
see
Ely Hampton, the State's prosecuting attorne
y,
and tell him he had a murder on his hands.

Downstair
s,
in the
small cellblock,
Gumpy
sat
in the
c
or ner of his cell. He wants to look up and look through the hi
gh
window on the wall, but he does not want to move or mak
e a
sound. He thought he heard Billy
crying
in the night,
when
all the noise came, but he wasn't sure, he wasn't
sure of any
thing. He looks down
at
the dark floor, then Lo th
e s
trip
e
of
light hitting it from the window, and
s
tares into th
e cracks

1 10
I Albert Frcuch

and crevices
th
e
light
shows
in the
cold
ce
ment floor. He
closes
his
eyes and opens
them
agai n,
the dark
cement
floor is
still
there, he turns and looks
al
the
wall, and
it is
still
there, he low
ers
his head
and cries quietly.

At
the
other end of
the
ce
llbl
ock, Billy
is just
wakening,
h
e'
d
cried
hi
sse
lf to
sleep, screamed into
the night,
ca
ll
ed
for
Cinder
to
come get
him,
screamed so
loud that Deputy Hill had
to come
down and
shout
at him until he
stilled
hisself, then he
screamed again
until
sleep came and got
him. Now he lays
on
the hard
cot,
pulling
on
his
blanket.
His
eyes slowly open and
it is just dark he
sees,
then the
gray walls and
the bla
c
k thick bars. Then
it
is
the night again,
the li
ghts
coming
to
get
him, then hands reaching
for
him
and
ripping him from his mother. Now he hears
screams,
hears the
shouts and
yells bashing into his
ears and shaking
his mind. He jumps up
and
looks
arou nd,
jumps
off
th
e
hard cot and runs
to the thick bars
and screams, "Mama . . . MA MA
.
. .
MA-
MA
. . .
MAMA
. . . AH WA NTS TA
GO
HOME.
. .
.
MAMA,

COME GITS
ME.
. . . MAMA
. .
.
MAMA .
.
.
"

Crows
fly
on Sunday
too
,
their
black wings flutter under
th
e
blue sky. The
Pat
ch
Road
goes
a bit past LeRoy's,
th
en
i t just seems
to
weaken into paths goin
h
ere
and
th
e
r
e,
but onl
y
c
rows
fly further
toda
y
. To t h
e side
of
th
e end
of
th
e
road is
the Patch
c
hurch
,
Fir
s
t
Star Baptist, been there since anyone can remember, old folks say it's
be
en
th
e
r
e s
in
ce s
lavin
days.
It ha
s
its ways
,
folks whisper around it,
spea
k
quietly when
th
ey
speak of i t. Folks
can see
it from th
e
road,
see
its
pale white color and
that
gree
n
waterland behind it. Folks
sor
t
of wa
lk
up to i t kind
of slow,
k
ee
p th
e
ir
eyes
down l ik
e
th
ey
don't
want
to look u p
at
that
o
l
d
dark
wooden
cross s
tu
ck
hi
g
h u p
over
th
e
door.