“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“I—uh—I saw Harland Hall.” JoBeth sat at the foot of the bed.
Leigh Ann stiffened. Her lower lip trembled. “You did? Where?”
“It doesn’t matter where, but—”
“It matters to me!”
“I—saw him at the Coroner’s Office.”
“Why was he there?”
“Leigh Ann, I feel like I’m being interrogated.”
“You are!”
“He needed some information for a research study or something. But—Leigh Ann—he told me that you came to see him today.”
Leigh Ann took a deep breath. “That’s right.” She felt her skin flush. From the pressure of her capillaries, she knew her face was bright red.
“And he told me that--after you said you wanted to volunteer, you expressed a--personal interest.”
Leigh Ann jutted out her chin. “And?”
“Harland’s concerned that--”
“When did you get on a first name basis with him?” Leigh Ann noticed JoBeth’s cheeks turn pink.
“I—I suppose today.” She smiled demurely. “Anyway—he’s concerned that you’ll accuse him of something inappropriate, since he…”
“Since he rejected me?!”
“I told him you wouldn’t, but being a black man and a Civil Rights leader around here—he’s gottta be cautious. And he’s gotta be on his guard all the time.”
Leigh Ann crossed her arms tightly. “I wouldn’t falsely accuse him of anything! I can’t believe he’d think that. Now I’m even more devastated!” Tears welled in her eyes, then spilled down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her fingertips. “I went to his office, out of the goodness of my heart, to offer my service—full time, as a volunteer. But once I expressed my—personal inclination toward him—he got all insulted!”
“Leigh Ann, you’d be putting him and yourself in danger. He doesn’t want to see either of you get hurt. I know how painful this must be—”
“You couldn’t know!”
JoBeth squeezed her sister’s arm and looked her straight in the eye. “Believe me, I do. But Harland has to stay focused on the Civil Rights cause, as well as his safety. I mean, Leigh Ann, think about it. If he were to be seen with a white girl—it would look like he was asking to be killed.”
“Well—if he weren’t Harland Hall, do you think—that just because he’s black—it would be wrong to date him?”
JoBeth hesitated. “I think---if two people love each other—they should be together. It’s just that—sometimes circumstances—and timing get in the way.”
“Like with Aunt Mikki and Uncle Heath.”
“Exactly; I was just telling Ha—a—a friend—about their story. So--maybe the time’s not right, not here anyway, for black and white dating—but maybe one day it will be.”
“I don’t think that day is too far off.” Leigh Ann sighed. “You know--you’d at least think Harland would want my help—if nothing else.”
“But, Leigh Ann—you’re beautiful, you’re smart. You’d be too much of a distraction, especially since you told him—how you feel.”
“I was hoping he’d feel the same. And--if I were around him enough, maybe he would. And then, when the time was right—”
“Leigh Ann!” JoBeth’s sweet tone suddenly disappeared. “If you even think about going near him again you’re crazy! Do you want to get him killed?”
****
Polishing furniture was a tedious task, Celesta thought, but not when a titillating conversation could be overheard. In the hallway near Miss Leigh Ann’s room, she’d heard quite an earful. Working for political families was more exciting than watching any T.V. soap opera. And there were times when Celesta actually felt like she was in one, like today.
Why, today there’d been more commotion than she could shake a stick at. And it all started with the FBI searching Mr. Gavin’s room a few hours earlier. While Mr. Gavin sat in the drawing room, guarded by one agent, two others had searched his room. When they’d seen Celesta hovering by the open door, one of them told her they were conducting confidential business, and then shut the door. Confidential your behind! Celesta thought. She wanted to break down that door and knock that young boy upside the head. But Governor Kroth wouldn’t have appreciated that. So instead she stood just six inches from the closed door and tried unsuccessfully to eavesdrop.
When the agents left, she’d seen them carrying a large brown envelope. She strained to hear what they’d said while they walked down the red carpeted hall to the winding stairway. But the only word she could decipher was marijuana. Celesta was still in shock over that. On one occasion she’d asked Mr. Gavin what that funny smell was coming from his room, but he’d claimed it was incense, something young people were into nowadays.
Celesta, still kicking herself for not being on top of things with Mr. Gavin, hoped the Governor wouldn’t be too disappointed. He’d warned her that children of privilege tend to act wilder than ordinary kids. And back when Governor Kroth had first moved in five years ago, he’d asked that she report any covert activities his children tried to get away with.
Although the Governor had asked her to be an extra set of eyes and ears over his kids, she didn’t feel it was her place to search drawers and read diaries, even though she wanted to. And if she’d asked the Governor for permission to do that, he probably would’ve thought she was overstepping her bounds.
Celesta straightened her black uniform as she readied herself for action. What she’d just overheard from Miss Leigh Ann’s room didn’t require a search of any kind. And it didn’t require the CIA or the FBI; just the CBI—the Celesta Bureau of Investigation. The door to Miss Leigh Ann’s bedroom hadn’t latched. And just as Celesta had begun polishing a hall table not far away, the door slipped open wide enough for her to hear every single word.
The girls considered themselves grown now, but they still had a lot of maturing to do. And Celesta still kept watch. The information she had was serious enough to be reported to the Governor. He’d arrived home just a little while ago. She felt like she’d let him down with Mr. Gavin. She wouldn’t let him down twice in the same day.
And besides, Celesta thought on her way to find the Governor, we’ve come a long way as Negroes. The last thing she wanted was to see Harland Hall’s efforts derailed by a rich, misguided do-gooder white girl with a crush on him.
****
“You never told me what type of study Harland wanted to do,” Leigh Ann said, as she and JoBeth continued talking in her bedroom.
“One on Negro infant mortality. He’s interested in statistics comparing white infant deaths to Negro ones. Then he’ll be exploring the care and facilities available to Negroes and how that—”
“I hate to sound cold,” Leigh Ann said, “but he’s a typical politician. The bottom line is—he’s concerned about vote count. Lower Negro infant mortality guarantees an increase of Negro votes.”
“Leigh Ann!”
“Oh, c’mon, don’t sound so appalled! It’s always about votes with politicians. Dad was a segregationist, now he’s courting the black vote.”
“Well, if Harland decides to do the study, it’s because he’s concerned about the babies. I can’t believe how jaded you are.”
“It’s only the truth, and—”
“Great Balls of Fire!” Ash yelled down the hall in his office. The girls paused upon hearing him.
Leigh Ann clicked her tongue. “What’s got him all steamed?”
“Leigh Ann!” Ash yelled, as he came toward her room.
“Whatever it is,” JoBeth said, “it’s something you did.”
Leigh Ann rolled her eyes. “As always.” She heard him walking quickly, and calling her name loudly again. “Yes, Daddy.”
Ash pushed open the unlatched door with eyes blazing and veins bulging from his forehead. “What in the hell is wrong with you? A reliable source tells me you made a blame fool out of yourself this today!”
Leigh Ann’s eyes immediately darted to JoBeth. “It wasn’t your sister and it wasn’t Harland Hall! Doesn’t matter who it was!”
Leigh Ann tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. “Da--Daddy—I—I can explain, I--” she stammered.
“What you did doesn’t need an explanation! Have you lost your cotton picking mind? For someone as smart as you are, sometimes you act like you haven’t got a lick of common sense! Don’t you know better than to go around chasing—”
Charlene suddenly appeared at Ash’s side. “What’s going on in here?”
It looked like she’d just gotten home from her busy afternoon. In a peach colored suit, she clutched a white handbag, and wore a white straw hat and short white gloves. She’d been a guest speaker at a Daughter’s of the American Revolution luncheon, and later given a speech at a reception for The Southern Ladies of Distinction Organization.
“Ash, you’ve got to calm down.” Charlene smiled as she tried to smooth things over. “I’ve been with civilized ladies all afternoon, and right now I don’t want to be around a barbaric outburst. Now, Leigh Ann, I’m sure whatever you did doesn’t deserve a hysterical reaction like what your father’s acting out.”
“Damn it, Charlene! You’ll be even more hysterical than I am once you hear all the facts!”
“Oh, Ash,” she admonished, “I doubt that. Now, Leigh Ann, just what happened?”
“I went to Harland Hall’s office to see if I could volunteer.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened as she tried to digest that. “Over in the colored business district? Well—I suppose—there’s nothing really wrong with that. As long as you’re not protesting or anything, and as long as you’re accompanied by a security guard. Helping him in his office a couple hours is a week is hardly—”
Ash interrupted. “Charlene, she wanted to volunteer full time.”
“Oh!” She looked surprised. “Leigh Ann, that’s not a very good idea.”
“And from my source, I hear she expressed--a romantic interest in the man.”
Horrified, Charlene gasped, clutching her throat. “Leigh Ann—he’s a—he’s a Neegro!” She squealed like a pig at slaughter.
“Mom, I know what he is! You don’t have to make him sound like an unevolved life form. And if he were white—”
“And if he were white, it still wouldn’t be appropriate for you to chase him!” Ash yelled.
“But you’d approve of him as someone suitable to date!” Leigh Ann fired back.
Ash loosened his tie. “He’s not interested in you, Leigh Ann! And even if he were—you couldn’t date him!”
“Only because he’s black!”
Ash pointed his finger and shook it at Leigh Ann. “It doesn’t matter why, but you can’t be interested in him!” Ash glanced at JoBeth, still sitting next to her sister, and quiet as usual. “And just why are you sitting there like the dern Cheshire Cat with that little grin on your face?”
JoBeth’s mouth opened, but no words came out right away. “I didn’t realize I was grinning,” she said innocently.
“Looks like you approve of your sister’s—blasted modern day ideals—chasin’ men and all!” JoBeth shook her head quickly, but said nothing. “Good.” Ash focused his wrath back on Leigh Ann. “No more chasing after any man—especially Harland Hall!”
“He’s a Neegro, for heaven’s sake!” Charlene furiously wiped her forehead and neck with a white lace hankie.
“And you stay away from him! Not only because he’s black, but he’s--” Ash stopped. “You just stay away!” He turned abruptly and left the room.
“You heard your father.” Charlene left quickly behind Ash muttering, “Just what is it with young people these days?”
Leigh Ann dropped her head and began crying.
“Oh.” JoBeth embraced her. “It’s okay.”
“You’re the golden girl, you can do no wrong.” Leigh Ann sniffed, “You just don’t know what it’s like to be so flawed and imperfect like me.”
“I’m not perfect. And Leigh Ann—you’d be--surprised at just how flawed I really am.”
“I appreciate you saying that, but--I know you’d never feel—for a black man--the way I feel about Harland, but thanks for being here.”
JoBeth gently rubbed Leigh Ann’s back. “That’s what a sister’s for.”
****
Ash sat down on the side of the bed after Charlene shut the bedroom door. Sighing in a huff, she walked to her dresser, tossing her hand bag in a wingback chair on the way.
“We never should have let Leigh Ann go to that radical school!” Charlene hastily removed the long pearl pin from her hat. “Now she’s got all kinds of crazy ideas she didn’t learn growing up in our house!” She put her hat on the dresser, then fingertip by fingertip quickly pulled off her white gloves and threw them down. “She needs to be at an all girl school,” Charlene said, walking toward Ash.
“I have to tell Harland something,” Ash said softly. “He needs to know everything.”
“Everything? About what?” Charlene said impatiently, as she sat down next to him. “I don’t know what you plan on telling him--but I’m gonna tell you something! We never should’ve let that Negro stay here in the first place! Just look what he did to Leigh Ann! Why—when he sat at our table—eating dinner with us--he was flirting with her! He’s not an ugly individual,” she smirked. “And he was—leading her on—tempting her with forbidden fruit! It was absolutely shameless the way he was carrying on! I hope you can see that now—in hindsight!”
“Charlene, he’s not interested in Leigh Ann—thank God—so we don’t have to worry about that. But there’s something even worse going on.”
“Worse? What could be worse than our daughter chasing after a colored boy?”
“Charlene, he’s a man.”
“I know, I know! And you know I didn’t mean it that way!” Ash buried his head in his hands. “Ash,” Charlene grasped his arm, “what is it? What’s wrong?”
“The FBI came by my office today.”
“Why?”
“They got an anonymous tip about something. And it involved Gavin.” Charlene’s eyes widened, but before she could speak, he said, “Don’t worry. He’s fine; he’s in his room. They—they uh—found a bunch of—evidence in his car.”
“Evidence? What kind of evidence?”
“Evidence that makes it look like he wants to assassinate Harland Hall.”
Charlene’s hand flew to her throat. “Why—that’s ridiculous!”
“I know it is. I’m sure it was planted, and that’s what the FBI thinks, too. So that stuff’s really nothing to be worried about. But I am worried about what they found in his room.”
“They searched his room?”
“Yeah--because of what they found in his car. Turns out—in his room—they discovered a bunch of--white supremacist garbage.”
“What?”
“All kinds of racist hate literature—along with a bag of marijuana.”
Tears welled in Charlene’s eyes. “Not my child.” The tears now rolled down her cheeks. “Ash—that stuff can’t be his.”
“He’s already admitted to the FBI that it is.”
“No.” Charlene shook her head, then sat quietly for a moment. “We didn’t raise him to hate—and we didn’t raise him to--”
“Charlene—I didn’t want to believe that junk was his either—but it is.”
Charlene wiped her eyes. “Ash—where did we go wrong? How have we managed to lose control of our children? Who could’ve gotten him into reading that stuff—and smoking drugs?”
“Maybe—being around Otis’s place—with Libby around,” Ash said slowly. He had his suspicions about Otis starting Gavin on drugs, not Libby. But Ash wouldn’t dare say that to Charlene with Otis barely cold in the ground. She loved her brother too much to think he’d “violate” their child that way, and she’d never forgive Ash for accusing him. But Otis was a heavy drinker, and smoked about three packs a day. It wouldn’t
be a stretch to imagine him doing drugs, too. Now, it was possible, Ash thought, that Libby was responsible for the racist propaganda. Otis couldn’t really hate a soul.
“Libby?” Charlene asked.
Ash sighed. “I think she just might be capable of anything. And one thing I know for sure is that she’s nothing but a tramp. She didn’t waste any time finding a new man to fill her bed.”
“Ash! I wouldn’t put anything past her—but you’re not implying that—Libby—and—and—my baby—”
“Ah! Hell no, Charlene! It’s just that when I went to talk to her, I saw men’s shoes—and buttons on the floor that didn’t look like they came off a dress.”
“That whore! I never knew what Otis saw in her in the first place!” Charlene didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Now, Ash—let’s say Libby did read that stuff. Do you suppose—she could’ve gotten Gavin into reading it, too--and poisoned his mind to the point of actually wanting to kill a Civil Rights leader? I—I just don’t think that’s possible.
“But, Ash—you know Gavin doesn’t like Harland Hall. You’d have to be blind not to see that. He’s jealous about the way you talk on about him, for one thing. And maybe he further despises him for toying with Leigh Ann. But being jealous--and wanting to defend his sister’s honor—wouldn’t drive Gavin to want to murder the man.”
Ash sat quietly nodding his head, then stood up and began pacing. “The agents haven’t been able to tie anything to Libby. So it’s more likely she’s working with somebody. So we just need to determine who that somebody is. The only clue we have so far, is that whoever it is, is an imbecile. It isn’t the sharpest idea to get the FBI involved in an assassination plot. But right now it looks like the intention is to frame Gavin for it. But there’s not gonna be any murder, not over my dead body. ” Ash hesitated for a second, and then started for the door. “I’m gonna go talk to Gavin.”
Charlene stood up too. “I’m going with you.”
“No. Charlene, I need to talk to him alone, man to man. Not with his mommy around.” Insulted, Charlene’s forehead crinkled. “You can talk to him later, after I’m finished, okay? But I think alone with me, he’ll feel more comfortable, and maybe open up some. And then tell me why he’s reading that crap to begin with—and who got him into smoking dope.”
The Governor’s Sons Page 28