Breaking Matthew

by Jennifer H. Westall

  He rested his hands on my shoulders and touched his lips to my forehead. “All right. You win. I’ll try. But I ain’t promising anything.”

  I stepped aside and started for the door, but Matthew gripped my hand. “Stay here. No one will bother you in here.”

  Mr. Doyle pushed the door open, and Matthew went out into the hallway. Then Mr. Doyle looked me over from head to toe and shook his head before stepping through the door himself. I noticed he didn’t close it all the way. Had that been on purpose?

  I’d never been one to mind my own business very easily. As a child I’d had a bad habit of eavesdropping on my parents as they talked into the night. I hadn’t quite defeated that little vice, and my curiosity stirred as I heard the mumbles between Matthew and his daddy. I crept over to the door and stood just to the side of the crack, trying to make out the harsh words coming from Mr. Doyle.

  “…despicable behavior. It’s an embarrassment to your family and position in this community.”

  Matthew’s response was low, and I couldn’t understand what he said, but it was clear his tone was angry.

  “Do you have any idea what this is doing to your mother?” Mr. Doyle asked.

  Another muffled reply from Matthew.

  “I most certainly care about your mother’s well-being, and I resent your implication otherwise. I won’t tolerate you speaking to me that way.”

  “Fine!” This time I heard Matthew loud and clear. “I don’t want to speak with you anyway.”

  Matthew moved into my line of sight, reaching for the door. But a hand grasped his arm. “She’s sick, Matthew.” He stilled. “Your mother’s ill, and she needs you right now.”

  Matthew turned around, his back filling the crack so I couldn’t see anything else. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her?”

  “We’re not entirely sure yet. The doctors say she has a weak heart. That she’s under a lot of strain. She’s taking some medication, but what she really needs is some peace of mind.”

  “Oh, that’s rich. And let me guess what would ease her mind. If I came home and pretended to be the perfect son you want?”

  “I’ve made no secret about my opinions. I’m telling you the truth—what you decide to do with it is up to you. What I do know is this: I haven’t seen your mother so healthy and alive as she was when you were home and planning your wedding to Vanessa.”

  Matthew shook his head. “I cannot believe you’re doing this right now. Ruby is facing—”

  “Ruby is facing the consequences of her actions. And so will you if you don’t get your head on straight. This isn’t just about you rebelling against me. You’re hurting your entire family by your senseless devotion to that girl. Not to mention how badly you’ve hurt the Paschals. They are our closest friends, and now every business deal I’ve made with Mr. Paschal is hanging in the balance because of you!”

  “Ah, and now we get to the heart of the matter, don’t we, Father? Money.”

  “Judge me all you want. But don’t think for one second that you’ll come out of this unscathed. Ruby will be convicted, and she will be out of your life for good. And you will be left with nothing. No family, no money, no job, and no future.”

  My stomach turned. How could I have encouraged Matthew to listen to one word from that hateful man?

  “You need to think about everything you stand to lose,” Mr. Doyle said. “You can still come out of this with a future. And just maybe it’s not too late for Ruby either. I can still put in a good word for her. But not if—”

  “You have no say in the outcome of this trial. It’s in God’s hands now.”

  “No, son. It’s in the jury’s hands, and the jury is made up of men.”

  “How…you can’t possibly…why are you doing this?” Matthew’s voice rose with each unfinished thought.

  “Because I want what’s best for you, and what’s best for our family.”

  Matthew moved away from the door, so I couldn’t see him anymore, but I could hear his feet pacing the floor just beyond. “Are you telling me that if I walk away from Ruby right now, and come home—”

  “And honor your promise to Vanessa,” Mr. Doyle interjected.

  Matthew let out a harsh laugh. “Oh yes, let’s not leave out poor, heartbroken Vanessa. You’re telling me if I agree to all that, you can make sure Ruby isn’t convicted? That’s insane!”

  “I’m not guaranteeing that. Ruby’s conviction is all but certain at this point thanks to your stubborn refusal to listen to reason thus far. But there’s no need for it to be any more difficult for her than necessary. Convictions can be appealed, overturned.”

  Matthew’s pacing stopped. “It’s Richard Moore, isn’t it? I recognized his name, but I didn’t know where I knew it from. He’s in that ledger I saw. The secret one. What does he owe you?”

  “Never you mind about that. You have a decision to make, and very little time in which to make it.”

  “Do you even hear yourself? Do you have the slightest clue how lost you are when you’re ready to send an innocent young woman to prison so that you don’t lose out on some business deals?”

  “She’s far from innocent. I heard the same evidence as everyone else in that courtroom, and it only solidified my resolve that I’m doing the right thing by getting her out of your life.”

  Matthew stepped back into view, his finger shoved into his father’s face. “You will never get Ruby out of my life. All you’ve done is removed me from yours.”

  I stepped away from the door as Matthew came through it, his eyes wild and angry. He slammed the door behind him and immediately went to pacing. “You heard all that, didn’t you?”

  I nodded. “I had no idea he was like that. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have encouraged you to—”

  “How can he live with himself? I can’t believe he’s doing this! We have to tell someone. Maybe Mr. Oliver can get a mistrial or something.”

  “It’s too late.”

  “No it ain’t! We go to Mr. Oliver or the judge and tell them my father has someone on the jury—”

  “What proof do you have?”

  “I’m not going to let him do this to you!” He stopped pacing and gripped my shoulders so hard pain shot down my arms. I winced, and he let go. “I’m sorry. I just…I can’t believe this is happening. You’re about to convicted of murder because of my father.”

  “It’s going to be all right,” I said. “He isn’t in control of that courtroom or the jury, as much as he’d like to think he is.”

  “I know, I know. God’s in control, right? Is that what you’re going to sell me right now?”

  I stepped back from the sting of his words. “Of course. Because it’s true. No matter what your daddy does, God is still on His throne, and He will decide my future. Not anyone else. So don’t lose faith.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You have more faith than five apostles put together.” He groaned. “You face tornadoes and…and grown men three times your size…and every person out there who thinks you’re crazy ’cause you treat colored folks like…like…”

  “Like what?”

  “Like there’s no difference between them and us! That’s what got you into this whole mess in the first place. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t gotten involved with Hannah years ago. And now you want to look a murder conviction in the eye and just accept it as the next step in your life!”

  He fell into a chair and propped his elbows on his knees, dropping his face into his hands. I knelt in front of him and prayed I could make him understand. “Matthew, there is no difference. We’re all lost and broken. All in need of saving. All in need of compassion, grace…mercy. We’re all the same. When I met Hannah and Samuel, they were alone in the world with no one to help them or show them any kindness. All they knew was the violence Chester doled out on them, and rejection from colored and white folks alike. Can you imagine? Not belonging anywhere in the world? It broke my heart.”

  “Ahh, Ruby,” he gr
oaned, moving his hands to my face. “I know why you did it. And even though it makes me crazy, I love you even more for it.” He leaned forward and kissed me gently, giving me just a moment of joy. “But what do we now?”

  There was a knock on the door, and Matthew and I stood as Mr. Oliver came into the room with a grim frown. “Jury’s reached a verdict.”

  “Already?” Matthew asked. “It can’t have been more than half an hour.”

  “Forty minutes, actually.”

  Matthew rubbed the back of his neck. “Is that a good sign or bad?”

  “Hard to say,” Mr. Oliver said. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

  I squeezed Matthew’s hand, and he glanced down at me. “It’s all right now. It’s about to be over. Just have faith.”

  “You may have to have enough for the both of us,” he said.

  We followed Mr. Oliver out into the hallway and back into the courtroom, which maintained a low hum of conversation as we squeezed through the crowd. Once everyone was in place, the clerk called in Judge Woods.

  As I took my seat, I tried to measure the men of the jury. Most kept their eyes on the judge to their left. The black-haired man near the back stared at the floor; his shoulders hunched forward just a bit.

  “Mr. Foreman, have you reached a verdict?” Judge Woods said.

  One of the men down front stood. “We have, Your Honor.” He passed a piece of paper to the clerk, who passed it on to the judge.

  Judge Woods read the verdict, and I thought I saw the slightest rise to his eyebrows. I tried not to make anything of it. “Very well,” he said. “Will the defendant please rise.”

  I stood, and Mr. Oliver rose with me. I was grateful not to be alone. Judge Woods passed the piece of paper to the clerk, whom I hadn’t paid much attention to until this point. He was a young man, maybe in his twenties. I wondered if he realized he was holding my future in his hands.

  When he began reading I closed my eyes and prayed for strength.

  “We the jury find the defendant, Ruby Graves, guilty of murder in the first degree—”

  Gasps and rumbles of conversations in the crowd behind me made the clerk pause, but then his voice rose and he completed his duty.

  “—as charged in the within indictment and fix her punishment as execution by means of electrocution.”

  My stomach dipped, and all the commotion behind me seemed to come through cotton in my ears. The room tilted, and I reached for Mr. Oliver’s elbow to steady myself. Somewhere in the distance, I heard my mother crying.

  Chapter Twenty

  Matthew

  Execution? Execution? This couldn’t be happening. I had to have heard the clerk wrong. But Mrs. Graves had collapsed into Asa’s arms. Ruby swayed and clutched Mr. Oliver’s elbow. Behind me, people were as shocked as I was.

  “Can’t believe it…”

  “Did that fella say ’lectrocution?”

  “…knowed in my heart she done it, but still…”

  “Look at her poor mother…”

  I gripped the railing as the floor dipped beneath me. It only took a moment for the rage to hit, and all I wanted to do was tear that whole courtroom apart. I turned to Asa and Mrs. Graves next to me. “This is insane!”

  Judge Woods rapped his gavel and dismissed the jury. I jumped up from my seat.

  “This is insane!” I repeated to no one in particular. I searched around the courtroom for someone to back me up. My gaze settled on Richard Moore, as he made his way along the bottom row of seats of the jury box. Our eyes met, and I pointed my finger at him.

  “How can you live with yourself?” I yelled.

  His face flushed red, and he jerked his gaze away from mine. He shuffled quickly past the remaining chairs and out the side door of the courtroom. I started to take off after him. What I planned to do, I had no idea, but I wasn’t thinking straight.

  Ruby turned around and grabbed my arm. “It’s all right, Matthew. Look at me.” She squeezed tighter as I watched the door close. “Look at me!” I found her eyes, but I could barely look at her. This was all my fault.

  “Matthew,” she said again. “I’m all right.”

  “We’ll fight this,” I said. “I promise. I’m going to make this right.”

  The sheriff walked around to Ruby’s side and took her by the arm. I started to rip his hand away from her, but she squeezed my arm again where she still had hold of me.

  “Don’t lose hope,” she said. Then she leaned toward me and stared into my eyes like she meant business. “Don’t trade your faith for me.”

  Sheriff Peterson pulled her gently toward the side door. She let go of my arm, and I thought my chest would rip apart.

  “I love you,” I choked out.

  “I love you too,” she said, her voice steady and calm. She looked over at Mrs. Graves as she followed the sheriff. “I’ll be all right, Mother. Don’t worry.”

  Mrs. Graves nodded, but couldn’t get any words out. Asa squeezed her shoulders and answered instead. “We’ll be down to see you as soon as they’ll let us.”

  She nodded, and then she gave me one last glance as she went through the door. As soon as the door closed, Mrs. Graves turned into Asa’s chest and let out the sob she’d been holding back. I turned to Mr. Oliver for some kind of explanation.

  “I’ll get started on an appeal immediately,” he said, raising a shaky hand to his forehead. “We have plenty grounds to file under.”

  “No, we have to do something now. That jury was rigged!”

  Mr. Oliver put up a hand to calm me. “I know it may seem that way—”

  “No! Listen to me. It was actually rigged. My father as much as admitted it.”

  Asa stood from his seat. “What? Why…How is that possible?”

  “Are you certain?” Mr. Oliver asked.

  “Absolutely,” I said, looking between the both of them. “Richard Moore, one of the men on the jury, is an associate of my father’s. I saw his name in a ledger book he keeps hidden in his office. When I confronted him about it during the recess, he certainly didn’t deny it, and he said he could affect Ruby’s sentence.”

  “Why on Earth would he want to do that?” Mr. Oliver asked.

  “He’s never particularly cared for Ruby, but I thought it was just bluster about our standing in the community. I don’t understand all the particulars, but Father has some shady business deals that are tied up in my choices, and choosing Ruby over my family has set him off.” I turned to Asa and Mrs. Graves. “I’m so sorry. I’d never hurt Ruby in a million years. I just couldn’t believe he had this much reach, or would go this far.”

  Neither of them looked at me with an ounce of condemnation, which surprised me.

  “So what can we do?” said Asa, the steadiness in his voice surprising me further.

  “Do you have any proof?” Mr. Oliver asked. “The ledger? Any business transactions between your father and Mr. Moore?”

  My stomach sank. “No.”

  Mr. Oliver leaned back against the table and crossed his arms. He surveyed the courtroom as if he was afraid someone was listening, but by this time the room had emptied. “Without any proof, there’s nothing we can do about this particular jury. What I can do is petition for a new trial based on some things that came up. Firstly, the footprint evidence should never have been admitted. The sheriff had no proof, and was simply making assumptions. Secondly, the verdict and sentence are nowhere near consistent with the evidence—or lack of it. There are a few more minor details that probably won’t amount to much, but if we throw everything we’ve got in there we might get a new trial.”

  “Might?” I said. My head was pounding by this time. “How long could all this take?”

  “I’ll get the paperwork started now. Submit the petition today. You work on keeping Ruby’s spirits up.”

  I agreed, but I knew the opposite was likely the case. She’d be the one keeping my spirits up. And I was going to need it.

  Mr. Oliver’s request for a heari
ng to set aside the verdict was granted, but it would be a week before there was room on the Judge’s schedule. Thankfully, Judge Woods delayed Ruby’s transfer to the penitentiary until the petition was resolved. But still, that week was the most agonizing time of my life.

  Asa and Mrs. Graves were kind enough to allow me to stay with them until the hearing, but I barely got any sleep at all. When I did sleep, my nightmare of losing Ruby returned with a vengeance. Only now it didn’t end with Ruby simply fading into the wall. Instead, she drifted away from my outstretched arms and into a mangled metal chair with wires connected to it. As I ran toward her, a jolt of electricity buzzed through her, and a blinding light flashed in my eyes, waking me in a cold sweat. Every night.

  I tried my best to put on a brave front for Ruby’s sake when I’d visit her at the jail. But the combination of exhaustion and desperation set me on edge. Every day I’d walk in and grunt at the sheriff, wait for him to let me through the door, and then skulk down to Ruby’s cell. She’d give me her best smile when she saw me, and that would lift my spirits for a brief moment. But not nearly long enough.

  We’d talk about the increasingly wet weather, which made me feel terrible since she couldn’t see it for herself. Then we’d talk about Christmas coming just around the corner, and what we loved most about it. But that would lead to thoughts of family and lost loved ones. I’d feel terrible for being the reason she might not be with her family for Christmas. She’d feel terrible for being the reason my family was torn apart. It was an vicious circle we couldn’t seem to escape, and we always wound up at the same guilt-ridden destination. Before long we’d either be too depressed to talk, or snapping at each other out of frustration.

  The Friday after Ruby’s trial, her uncles told us they were heading back to the caverns, and gathered up their things from the barn. Mrs. Graves hugged them all and thanked them. Roy told her to come and get them if they were needed for anything unsavory.