Breaking Matthew

by Jennifer H. Westall

  Ruby shook her head. It was all I could do not to go over to the window and start shaking some sense into her. “She ain’t gonna listen to reason.”

  “I can see that,” Mr. Oliver said, turning his attention back to me. “I’d like to refute Brother Cass’s testimony, but I hesitate to impugn a respected pastor in the community. Is there anything he said you can directly contradict?”

  “Definitely. The soup kitchen garbage for sure. Ruby’s no thief.”

  “All right, then we’ll move on to Dr. Fisher. He’ll confirm your injuries from the first attack. I’ve also notified James that he’ll be called on to testify, but I haven’t seen him in court. We may have to fetch him.”

  “I don’t know if he’ll help us,” I said. “He’s awfully torn, and he’s upset at the family right now, especially Ruby. Blames her for all the problems.”

  Mr. Oliver frowned. “Wonderful.” He stood and approached Ruby at the window. “You’ll testify last. The way things are going, we may ask for a recess until tomorrow for your testimony. I want you to be fresh, and I want the jury to have a chance to forget about Cass’s testimony.”

  Ruby nodded and hugged her chest. “No mention of Samuel, right?”

  “Right.”

  Then she turned to me. “No mention of Samuel. I mean it, Matthew. Keep him out of this.”

  “All right,” I said. But I knew it was going to be the hardest thing I’d ever done.

  Walking up to the witness stand set my nerves on edge. I placed my hand on the Bible and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, knowing if I did, Ruby would never speak to me again. As I took my seat, I met her gaze and saw the fear there. I couldn’t hurt her, but I couldn’t lose her either. Lord, tell me what to say.

  I scanned the courtroom for a friendly face, but instead I found the face of my father near the back. He frowned as our eyes locked. What was he doing here? Had he spoken with Judge Woods? Someone on the jury? I shook the thoughts from my mind and concentrated on Mr. Oliver as he approached the witness stand. I had to get this right.

  All seemed to go as planned as Mr. Oliver questioned me. I explained to the jury exactly what had happened the night I was healed, and how Ruby had never once claimed she’d done it herself. She’d always given glory to God for that, and I could say that as the honest truth. Then I explained how Mother had given Ruby permission to take the leftover jars of food for a needy family. I told them how much Ruby had been loved by the downtrodden folks that came into the church—how caring and gentle she’d been with them.

  “Ruby’s always been that way. She gives more of herself than she has, and she never asks for anything in return. Anyone who knows her—really knows her—can see the light inside of her.”

  The most difficult part was talking about the day I’d found her in the woods, nearly beaten to death. Remembering that scene still made my blood run hot.

  “Tell us about how you found Miss Graves that day,” Mr. Oliver said. “What was her condition?”

  I cleared my throat and focused on speaking clearly. Everything was riding on this. “I’d come home from college that weekend and went over to visit with her. Her mother seemed worried that she didn’t know where Ruby was, so I went looking for her. I knew she’d been taking food to Hannah and Samuel down in the woods, so I headed in that direction.”

  “And who are Hannah and Samuel?”

  “A colored woman and her mulatto boy that lived in a shack on the edge of Mr. Calhoun’s property at the time.”

  “All right then, so you went looking for Ruby, and then what happened?”

  “I didn’t know exactly where to go. I wandered around for a bit, until Samuel came out of the woods. He hollered at me that someone was hurt and to come quick.”

  “How old was the he?”

  “About nine or so.”

  “And what was Ruby’s condition when you found her?”

  “She was unconscious. Her head had a deep gash in it, and her face was all bruised up. Her leg also had a large gash, and it was bleeding pretty bad. I tried to rouse her, but she was completely out. I was afraid she was dead.”

  I met Ruby’s gaze for a moment, remembering the fear that had engulfed me in those moments in the woods. Had I loved her then?

  “What happened after that?” Mr. Oliver asked, snapping my thoughts back to the present.

  “I carried her home. Her brother James went for Dr. Fisher, and he came out to the house and treated her. She was laid up for nearly a week. I went to see her several times before I had to go back to school.”

  “Did she ever tell you who beat her so badly?”

  “Not at first. She eventually told me it was Chester Calhoun.”

  “Why do you think she waited so long to tell you?”

  “’Cause she knew I’d be angry, and that I’d confront Chester about what he did.”

  “And did you?”

  I found Mr. Calhoun sitting next to his wife on the first bench in the gallery, and made eye contact. “I sure did. I went up to the Calhoun place with Ruby, and we told Mr. Calhoun what had happened. He didn’t want to believe us at first, but once Chester got there, and we started arguing about it, Chester admitted he’d been beating and raping Hannah.”

  “And are you certain Mr. Calhoun heard this?”

  “Oh yes. He heard him.” I looked directly at Mr. Calhoun. “Chester laid into his father for doing the same thing. Said he knew Samuel was his half-brother.”

  Mr. Oliver’s eyes widened. I hadn’t told him that part, and maybe I shouldn’t have said anything at all, but I wanted the world to know what a hypocrite that man was. Whispers and muttering broke out among the spectators, and Mr. Calhoun glared at me, a red flush creeping up his neck. Mrs. Calhoun glared at him, and removed her hand from his arm.

  Mr. Oliver tried to regain control of the interview. “Mr. Doyle, can you explain what happened after that?”

  “Yes, sir. Chester threatened Ruby, saying that he’d finish the job next time, and so I laid him out.”

  “You punched him?”

  “I sure did. We brawled for a bit, until he’d had enough and drove off. But that was the day of the great tornado, and when we noticed the bad weather coming on, everyone headed for shelter.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Doyle,” Mr. Oliver said. “No more questions.”

  Mr. Garrett rose and approached the stand with a polite smile. “Mr. Doyle, I only have a couple of questions for you. Did you actually see Chester Calhoun ever lay one hand on Miss Graves?”

  My stomach sank. “No.”

  Mr. Garrett gave a pointed look to the jury. “And this boy, Samuel, where is he? Why hasn’t he come forward to support this story of an attack.”

  I glanced at Ruby, aching to tell everyone in there the truth. “I don’t know.”

  “Mr. Doyle, how did you feel about Ruby’s friendship with the Negro woman?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Mr. Garrett paused and narrowed his eyes. “How did you feel about Miss Graves visiting with the Negro woman?”

  “I…I don’t know. I was worried about her.”

  “And did you encourage her to give up the friendship at any time?”

  “Yes, I did, but I don’t see—”

  “No further questions.” Mr. Garret returned to his seat with a satisfied smirk, and I left the stand with very little hope that I’d done Ruby any amount of good.

  As I took my seat behind her, she turned to me for just a moment. “Thank you,” she mouthed silently. I nodded, still wondering if I’d made the right choice. All I could do was pray that the jury would see as much of the truth as we could tell them, and that God would protect Ruby.

  Dr. Fisher was called to the stand next. He ambled across the floor and offered a warm greeting to Judge Woods. “How’s that grandbaby of yours?”

  Judge Woods lifted a corner of his mouth, the closest I’d ever seen to a smile. “Just fine. Just fine.”

  Mr. Oliver a
pproached the stand after Dr. Fisher had taken his oath. “How long have you known Miss Graves?”

  Dr. Fisher beamed over at Ruby like a proud father. “Oh, I was there when she was born. Came into the world just a-hollering. Been her doctor ever since.”

  “Did you treat Miss Graves when she was so badly injured in the fall of 1931?”

  “Yes, unfortunately I did.”

  “What was the extent of her injuries?”

  “Well, let’s see. She had a bad concussion, a couple of broken ribs, a deep laceration on her forehead, another on her leg. I had to bandage her up pretty good.”

  “Was her life in danger?”

  “Oh yes. We kept a close eye on her those first few hours. She had a fever, and I wasn’t sure how much damage she might’ve had to her brain. Not to mention her blood loss.”

  “But she recovered fully?”

  “For the most part. She still suffers occasional headaches that I believe are a direct result of the concussion.”

  Mr. Oliver walked over to the jury box and leaned against the rail, taking a tack from Mr. Garrett. “What is your relationship with Miss Graves at present?”

  “She works as a midwife for me, and helps me take care of patients.”

  “And what is your opinion of Miss Graves’s character?”

  Again, Dr. Fisher smiled at Ruby. “Why she’s the most dedicated caregiver I’ve ever known. All my patients adore her. Many ask for her by name, especially the delivering mothers. She calms them and serves them with complete devotion. I trust her completely.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Fisher. No further questions.”

  Mr. Garrett rose and took position on the opposite side of the courtroom near the clerk. “Dr. Fisher, did Miss Graves ever say who attacked her in 1931?”

  “No, she didn’t ever tell me who did it.”

  “Did you see the attack?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever seen Chester Calhoun lay a hand on Miss Graves, or anyone else for that matter?”

  “No.”

  “You have, however, responded to an injury inflicted by Miss Graves, have you not?”

  Dr. Fisher paused, and his brow furrowed. Mr. Garrett walked toward him slowly, purposefully. “It’s been some time, so perhaps you’ve forgotten. Let me help you. Did you respond to a call for help at the Graves residence in the spring of 1927?”

  “Why, um, yes. I…I believe so.” Realization hit Dr. Fisher, and his face went slack.

  “And what was the nature of that call?”

  “Um, well…Young Henry, Ruby’s brother, had been cut along the neck and was bleeding badly.”

  “And was his life in danger?”

  Dr. Fisher frowned. “Well, I suppose at the time it seemed rather serious—”

  “Yes or no, please, Doctor. Was his life in danger?”

  “Yes.”

  Mr. Garrett turned and faced the spectators, rocking on his heels in anticipation. “And can you please tell us exactly how Henry Graves was injured?”

  Dr. Fisher looked over at Ruby, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. Instinctively my heart sank, even before he answered. “Henry was injured because Ruby had thrown a knife at him.”

  Mr. Garret took a moment to soak in the collective gasp he’d been expecting. Then he turned and headed for the jury box. “Can you please repeat that?”

  Dr. Fisher sighed. “From what I understand, Henry was teasing her, and Ruby threw a knife at him.”

  Each and every one of the men on the jury turned and looked at Ruby as if he was finally convinced of her guilt. Rage flooded over me, and all I wanted to do was rush up to the stand and tell them that she hadn’t done this, to explain everything until they saw the truth. But I couldn’t.

  Mr. Garrett rested, and Dr. Fisher left the stand, his shoulders sagging as if he now bore a heavy load. Ruby watched him leave, and as he passed by the table, I caught the gentle look of understanding she gave him. It stabbed me right in the gut. Maybe I could be recalled to the stand. Maybe I could still stop this horrible train wreck from happening. I leaned forward to tap Mr. Oliver on the shoulder, hoping to convince him to let me testify again.

  On the table, I saw several lines of notes between him and Ruby on his yellow pad.

  Is this true?

  Yes.

  How could he have found out about it?

  James.

  Mrs. Graves held her head up high and scanned the gallery with a defiant glare as Mr. Oliver approached her for questioning. I’d never felt such solidarity as I did in that moment as she dared anyone in that courtroom to say a bad word about her daughter.

  “Can you describe the incident that occurred in your home between Ruby and Henry when they were children?” Mr. Oliver asked.

  “Yes, sir. It’s true, Ruby had a temper when she was younger, but that’s true of many children. And she did throw that knife at Henry. He’d been teasing her, and she lost her temper. She didn’t mean to hurt him, and as soon as it happened she felt just awful. I never saw anything like the turnaround I saw in her from that day on.”

  “How so?” Mr. Oliver asked.

  “She was much more self-controlled. I don’t reckon I ever saw her lose her temper like that again. Now, she could be impulsive, and downright pig-headed at times, but she never lost control again.”

  I glanced at the jury throughout Mrs. Graves’s testimony. It didn’t appear to help much. Most of them had set their face to a frown and weren’t about to budge. When Mr. Garrett stood to question her, I was certain things could only get worse.

  “Now, Mrs. Graves, were you aware that your daughter was taking food to a Negro woman in the woods of Mr. Calhoun’s property?”

  “I knew she was taking food to a needy family.”

  “Yes, but did you know that the woman was a Negro?”

  Mrs. Graves sighed like she was dealing with an argumentative child. “No. I wasn’t aware of that part.”

  “When you did become aware of it, what did you say to her? Were you supportive?”

  “I was afraid for her.”

  “Did you tell her it would be best if she stopped going down there?”

  “Yes, I did. I was concerned for her safety. And rightly so.”

  “And how about now?” Mr. Garrett asked.

  Mrs. Graves shifted in her seat. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “How do you feel about Ruby going off to Colony every month to visit her Negro friends?”

  A blush crept into Mrs. Graves’s cheeks, and she glanced over at Ruby. “I reckon I’m still afraid for her safety. As much from the white sheets as from anyone she might meet in that town.”

  In the end, Mrs. Graves didn’t do much harm, but she didn’t appear to do much good either. I was convinced the only way to save Ruby at this point was to tell the jury everything about what really happened in that barn, even if it meant she would never speak to me again. After Mr. Garrett took his seat, I tapped his shoulder. He leaned back, and I whispered to him about recalling me to the stand.

  He glanced at Ruby, who shook her head. Mr. Oliver frowned at me. “I can’t do it, son. I’m sorry.”

  I fell against the back of the pew and sulked as Mr. Oliver rose and requested a continuance to the following day since Ruby’s testimony was last, and would most likely take longer than we had remaining in the day. The judge agreed, and dismissed everyone. I was fuming by this point, and couldn’t stand to be in that courtroom one moment more. So without a word to anybody, I got out of there as quick as I could, seeking the sanctuary of my car.

  As I drove, I went over all the testimony of the day, trying to find a shred of hope that Ruby wouldn’t be found guilty. But it seemed like everything had worked against her. I pounded my hand into my steering wheel, yelled curses at God for abandoning her, and prayed with all my might He would still work things out for her

  By the time I pulled up in front of the Graves farm, I was worked up so bad, I could hardly think straight. Slamming my do
or shut, I stomped around the yard, kicking up rocks and throwing sticks to get out all the pent-up frustration inside me.

  A few minutes later, Roy approached me from the barn. “You look like you’re fit to be tied. I take it things didn’t go well?”

  “Not at all,” I said. But then something clicked in my head. There was a solution standing right in front of me. “Say, you still willing to get Ruby out of here? Take her somewhere safe she can hide out for a while?”

  Roy’s eyebrows shot up, and he scratched at his beard. “That bad, huh?” He glanced around like someone might be listening. “Come with me.”

  I followed him into the barn, where he called out to his brothers to come join us. They’d turned the barn into their own little hideout, setting a slab of wood on an upturned wagon wheel to use as a card table, and fashioning beds out of hay bales. The four of them gathered around the table, rubbing sleep out of their eyes like they’d been up all night.

  “What’s going on?” Eddie asked.

  “Matthew here says the trial ain’t going so good,” Roy said. “Wants to know if we can help Ruby hide out or something.”

  Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, you know, we pitched that idea a few days back, but Lizzy wouldn’t have none of it.”

  “Lizzy don’t ever speak to us much anyway,” Franklin said. “I say we do it.”

  Roy put his hands up. “Now hold on just a minute. What exactly are we talking about here?We’d like to help, honest. But Ruby don’t seem like she wants to take this road. And we ain’t in the business of kidnapping folks.”

  He was right about that for sure. Knowing Ruby, that was exactly what was going to have to be done. “Well, for argument’s sake, let’s say I can get Ruby on board. What would we need to do? What does running from the law entail?”

  Eddie leaned forward on his knees. “For beating a murder charge? Name change for sure. Change of appearance; cutting her hair or something. Moving up north or out west. She’d have to hide out for a while till things cooled off. Then hit the road. A lot to go through for a girl her age and no experience with such things.”