by Londyn Skye
“Yessa’.”
“Do you have any idea why she would do such a thing?”
“No sa’, I just asked ’er for some lemonade and she pounced on me. It was like she was sick ’n tired of folks tellin’ ’er what to do or somethin’. She suddenly flew into a rage and took it out on me.”
The image of his brother in the kitchen with Lily that day had the rage inside of James brewing to near explosive levels, especially after the dismissive way he had just lied about his vile assault.
“What happened afta’ Lily stabbed you?” Crumwell asked.
“I’s tryna leave so I could get some help for my arm, but she just kept on attackin’ me like a goddamn dog with rabies! So, I ended up tryna subdue ’er outside. She was kickin’, scratchin’, and flailin’ so hard, my brotha’ and fatha’ had to run ova’ and help me hold ’er down.”
James was suddenly the one feeling like a rabid dog. Face red, jaw clenched, and huffing hard, he made a sudden move to rise from his seat toward his brother. Mason grabbed his arm before he was fully standing and shoved him back down in his chair. The bailiff drew his pistol and aimed at James, leading to another uproar from the audience.
“Dr. Adams! Anotha’ move like that and you’ll spend the remainda’ of this trial in shackles, do you unda’stand me?!” Judge Lucifer warned.
James refused to take his eyes off his brother or acknowledge the judge at first. Not even ten minutes into his J.R.’s testimony, he was ready to kill the man. Even though his homicidal visions continued to run rampant, James somehow managed to settle himself down. He snatched his arm away from Mason and straightened his jacket. “Yessa’,” he finally replied, his bloodshot eyes still fixed on his brother.
J.R. returned the icy glare, discreetly licked his lips, and smirked at James as a way of telegraphing how much he had enjoyed “tasting” his woman.
The bailiff holstered his gun but continued to stand near James.
“You may continue,” the judge commanded Tobias once all was calm.
“So, what happened afta’ you were finally able to subdue Lily?” Tobias then asked J.R.
“It was then that I’s finally able to tell my fatha’ about Mary Jo’s confession and the truth about James bein’ the fatha’ of the baby Lily was carryin’.”
“How did Lily react afta’ you told your fatha’ about the baby?”
“She suddenly tried to attack me again, but my fatha’ stopped ’er.”
“Was he able to get ’er unda’ control?”
“No! I’m tellin’ ya’, she was thrashin’ like a wild dog. Ain’t neva’ seen a more disrespectful nig- … slave in all my life! But my fatha’ was kind enough to give ’er several chances to calm down. He kept askin’ ’er stop, but she started kickin’ and scratchin’ ’em like a wild banshee.”
“What did your fatha’ do to stop ’er from assaultin’ him?”
“He dragged ’er naked behind ova’ to the whippin’ tree to give ’er a few stripes across the back.”
“How many times was he forced to whip ’er before she settled down?”
“I’d say it was only about three or four times before my brotha’ James intervened.”
“Intervened? How?”
“He come ‘a ridin’ ’cross the fields on his horse, firin’ his pistol at my fatha’.”
“Did James succeed in shootin’ ’em?”
“No. My brotha’ Jacob and I pulled ’em off his horse and wrestled ’em to the ground.”
“So, if it wasn’t for you and your brotha’s heroic actions, your fatha’ might very well have been killed by James?”
“Yessa’, that’s true,” J.R. boasted proudly.
Despite the truth in how he would have blown his father’s head off, James did his best to stifle his laughter about the adjective used to describe his brother’s actions that day. It came out as an angry snort, only heard by the bailiff hovering close to him.
“What happened in the hours afta’ that incident, J.R.?” Tobias continued.
“My fatha’ broke his hand while he was punishin’ Lily, so Jacob and I took ’em to Dr. Whitfield to get it looked at and so I could get my arm stitched too.”
“What happened when you returned to your fatha’s plantation?”
“Me, Jacob, and my fatha’ found James in the slave quarters with Lily. He was holdin’ onto a baby.”
“To whose baby?”
“Lily’s.”
“So, she gave birth that evenin’?”
“Yessa’.” J.R turned and glared at his brother. “But James killed it.”
Low level murmuring rumbled through the crowd.
Had James eaten that morning, he likely would have vomited over his brother’s sickening accusations. Instead, flashbacks of his daughter fading away in his arms flooded his mind and suddenly overflowed out his eyes before he could do anything about it. Pain had quickly outweighed the anger James felt over his brother’s egregious lies. He lowered his head in sorrow, hiding his silent tears as they pelted the floor in rapid succession. Had his misery not felt like the weight of a mountain, he was liable to commit another bloody homicide in front of a court full of people.
“Did he say why he killed his own child?” Crumwell asked.
“He was screamin’ at my fatha’ like a madman, sayin’ that he preferred for it to be dead than to be a slave on his plantation.”
“So, your brotha’ took the life of his own baby just to spite his fatha’?” Crumwell asked.
“Yessa’. He didn’t want our fatha’ to have what was rightfully his property.”
“Did James also take issue with the fact that Lily was your fatha’s rightful property?”
“Yessa’.”
“Has James eva’ gone to any extreme measures to infringe on your fatha’s rights ova’ Lily too?”
“Yessa’. Twice actually.”
“Can you tell us about the first instance?”
“Last year, he lied to our fatha’ and said he was takin’ Lily to a slave breeda’. Instead, he took ’er to play pian’ah in some symphony.”
“And who taught Lily to play piano?”
“James.”
“So, your brotha’ not only taught Lily to read and write, but even taught ’er to play piano?”
“Yessa’.”
“Did your fatha’ eva’ condone James teachin’ Lily any of these things?”
“Naw, neva’. He don’t believe in educatain’ nig- … slaves. He abides strictly by the slave codes.”
“When your brotha’, James, took Lily to play in the symphony, how long was he gone with ’er?”
“Nearly a year.”
“Did your brotha’ eva’ intend to bring ’er back?”
“Naw, my fatha’ had to track ’em down and force ’em to bring back his property.”
“And can you tell us about the second instance when James was attemptin’ to infringe on your fatha’s rights to Lily?”
“A few hours afta’ James killed his baby, he took Lily and ran off with ’er somewhere.”
“Has your fatha’ been able to retrieve his property?”
“No sa’. We tried lookin’ for her, but ain’t none of us have seen Lily since that night.”
“Thank you, J.R.” Tobias turned to the judge. “No furtha’ questions, your honor.”
James could barely bring himself to look at his brother after listening to a testimony riddled with egregious lies. However, he hoped that J.R. was not lying about the fact that their father had yet to find Lily. Knowing that Jesse had no access to her gave him some semblance of peace.
“Your witness, Mr. Rockefella’,” the judge told Mason.
Mason got up from his seat and straightened his expensive suit jacket. He then strutted over to Tobias’s table and just stared at him with his arms folded across his chest. Tobias just looked at him oddly, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“Your witness, Mr. Rockefeller,” the judge reiterated.
Maso
n still stood his ground and continued to stare at Tobias.
“Mr. Rockefeller, what in the world are you doin’?” Judge Lucifer asked.
“I’m simply waiting for Mr. Crumwell here to add those incriminating letters to the evidence table,” Mason answered. He then finally turned to look at J.R. “One would only assume that letters that carry such a great deal of solid proof would be lying right here,” he said, slapping his hand down on the evidence table. “But alas! This table is empty!” He walked up to J.R. “So just where are those incriminating letters you speak of J.R. … Can I call you J.R. too?”
J.R. did not reply.
“Well? Just where are they?” Mason asked again.
“When I went into the kitchen to confront that nig–” He cleared his throat. “To confront Lily, she snatched ’em from me.”
“Confront? Confront her about what?”
J.R. adjusted in his seat and began to sweat. “I-I meant to say ask … not confront. I went to ask ’er for some lemonade and she snatched the letters from me.”
“So, you went in that kitchen just to confront … I mean to, uh, ask for a glass of lemonade?” Mason mocked.
“Yessa’.”
“Well, if that’s all you were there for, how in the world did Lily know that you had any letters with you?”
“Huh?” J.R. replied, already confused by his own lie.
“The letters! The ones you allegedly got from Mary Jo! Those damning letters that Lily allegedly snatched from you. How … did … Lily … know … you … had … them?”
J.R. was slowly turning red. “She, uh, saw ’em on the counter.”
“You very clearly stated just thirty seconds ago that she snatched them from you … not the counter. So, which is it?”
“She-she. Well, I-I had laid ’em down then picked ’em up when I noticed she saw ’em. And, uh, that’s when she snatched ’em from me.”
“So just to be clear. You have incriminating criminal evidence. Instead of going straight to your father, you stop to confront … uh, I mean to ask Lily for some lemonade. You lay those important letters down right in front of her and she’s able to read them while simultaneously pouring your lemonade?”
“Y-yessa’. She saw that I had ’er letters, got mad, and pounced on me!”
“But a moment ago, you testified that she pounced on you like a rabid dog because it seemed she was sick of people telling her what to do. If it was truly the letters that ignited her anger, why not mention that in your testimony?”
“I, uh, forgot about that part.”
“Forgot? If you’ve completely forgotten about an extremely important part of what happened that day, isn’t it fair to say that the details of your side of the story aren’t reliable?”
“Huh?” J.R. replied, looking thoroughly confused.
“Let me make the question a little more elementary for you! If you’re so forgetful, why should the court believe you?!”
“Because I was there and I’m confident about what happened!” J.R. bit back.
“So confident that you completely omitted why Lily attacked you in the first place?”
“I just forgot for a moment! Everybody has lapses in memory, but for the most part I got an impeccable memory!” J.R. stated, wiping away the stream of nervous sweat now pouring into his eyes.
“Well, let’s put that impeccable memory of yours to the test, shall we?” Mason smirked. “Since Lily allegedly told James she was with child in those letters, about how far along was she, according to the dates?”
“Uh … I reckon she was about, uh, five … no six months.”
“You reckon she was six months along?”
“I had to recall the dates, but yes, accordin’ to what I read, she was about six months along.”
“And you stated that this six-month pregant woman stabbed you after you asked her for lemonade, correct?”
“Yessa’, got the wound to prove it!” J.R. replied confidently about the only true part of his story.
“After stabbing you, you stated that Lily didn’t get any further than the front porch as she was fleeing with those letters in her hands, right?”
“Yessa’.”
“So just what did Lily do with the letters between there and the front porch that caused them to be absent today?”
J.R. swallowed hard, his racing heart pumping sweat into the pits of his suit in buckets. “She-she, uh…”
“We have more witnesses to roll through, so we could use a lot less st-stuttering and a lot more a-answering here, uh, uh … J-J.R.”
J.R.’s face was beet red with anger by the time he thought of a response. “She threw ’em into the fireplace!”
“So, there’s a fireplace in your father’s kitchen?”
“No sa’.”
“Where is it?”
“The livin’ room.”
“Did she throw those imaginary…” Mason cleared his throat. “I mean, incriminating letters into the fire before or after she stabbed you?”
J.R. thought for a minute about how he should lie this time. “Afta’.”
“So, I just want to be clear. A six-month pregnant woman puts her pitcher of lemonade down, snatched papers out of your hands, stabbed you, waddled with lightning speed to the living room, and then tossed the letters into the fireplace before you could do anything to stop her?”
“Y-yessa’,” J.R. replied sheepishly.
His answer garnered a round of soft laughter from the crowd.
Mason turned toward the laughing audience. “Hell, I think I find it far more funny that a pregnant woman, who’d been slaving over a hot stove all day, had a fire going in the middle of a warm Virginia spring day … don’t y’all?” he joked, unable to resist the urge to highlight J.R.’s stupidity.
“Keep it professional in my courtroom Mason,” Judge Lucifer warned.
Mason nodded at the judge and turned to find J.R. staring at him with angry, bloodshot eyes. Mason smirked, enjoying the fact that he had put the tight-lipped grimace on J.R.’s podunk face. “So, you claim that Mary Jo Parker gave you those letters outside of Albert’s store, correct?” he continued.
“Yessa’.”
“How many letters were there?”
“Um, at least two dozen.”
“How long did it take you to get to your father’s house after Mary Jo gave you those letters?”
“About thirty minutes.”
“So, within thirty minutes, you were able to read at least two dozen letters, and recall the details from every single one?”
“Yes! I read fast!”
“All while guiding your horse’s reins, huh? Takes an awful lot of talent.”
“I’m a talented man with an impeccable memory then I s’ppose!” J.R. replied, his annoyance now glaring.
“You’ve proven here today that sometimes you can have slight memory lapses about important details. So, I would like to give you the opportunity to run through that impeccable memory of yours just one more time. Are you absolutely certain that there was nothing else you did to motivate Lily’s violent actions? Just asking for lemonade and some imagin– …”
“Watch it Rockefella’!” the judge warned.
Mason gave his infamous sly smile. “Some incriminating letters and asking for lemonade suddenly turned Lily into a raging beast?”
“That’s all it was!” J.R., replied, huffing and puffing.
“Well then, can you explain exactly how Lily ended up naked?”
“Naked?” J.R. replied, wiping another stream of sweat from his forehead.
“Yes, naked. Definition … a person without clothes. Synonyms … nude, bare, or unclothed,” Mason mocked.
“I know what it means!” J.R. fired back.
“Just trying to help. You seemed a bit ruffled by the word,” Mason sneered.
“Naw! Just don’t know what the hell y’ur talkin’ about?”
Mason’s arrogant strut was suddenly more pronounced as he began pacing back and forth i
n front of his prey. “After you were stabbed, you say Lily ran and burned those incriminating letters. After which, you say a scuffle ensues that moves the both of you from the living room to the ground in front of the porch outside, correct?”
“Yessa’.”
“After that, you told the court that your fatha’, and I quote … ‘dragged her naked behind to the whipping tree.’” Mason stopped, rested his hands on the bannister in front of J.R., and leaned toward him. “How on earth did Lily end up naked?”
J.R. swallowed hard and shifted in his seat. “Don’t rememba’.”
“That memory of yours certainly isn’t proving to be so impeccable!” Mason joked.
“It’s just th-that it was all a blur. Me and Lily was fightin’ awful hard and it all happened so fast!”
“Fought her way right outta every stitch of her clothing!” Mason turned to the audience. “That’s the kinda feisty woman I like!”
Every audience member was laughing at Mason as he made light of the details of Lily’s assault, but James was seething. Intense rage had gruesome visions of revenge saturating his mind, ones that far superseded the sort of barbarism his father was capable of.
When the crowd’s laughter settled, Mason turned and glared at J.R. with disgust. “And you’re still certain that it was only lemonade that you wanted out of Lily in that kitchen and not something else far more satisfying?” he asked smugly.
“I SAID I WANTED LEMONADE GODDAMN IT!” J.R. screamed, jumping to his feet.
“OBJECTION!” Tobias yelled. “He’s bagderin’ my witness, your honor! He’s already answered the perverted question that Mason’s insinuatin’!”
“SUSTAINED!” the judge yelled, banging his gavel repeatedly to calm the loud chatter that suddenly erupted amongst the audience. “QUIET DOWN!” When everyone was settled, he pointed his gavel at Mason. “Your first witness and y’ur already walkin’ a fine line Mr. Rockefella’! Watch which side ‘a that line y’ur steppin’ on in my courtroom!” he scolded.
“Yessa’, your honor,” Mason replied flippantly.
J.R. had turned to look at James after standing up. He slowly sat back down while still locked in a staring war with his brother. James was not the only one with his eyes fixated on him, though. Mason continued glaring at J.R. in disgust as he finally continued his line of questioning. “So, after your father dragged Lily’s naked behind to the whipping tree, you claim your brother opened fire on him to try and stop him from whipping her?”