“I now call Alvin Biggins to the stand.”
Alvin Biggins was sworn in. He, too, was wearing a new suit and was shaved for a change. He told the same story, and when Hobbs was through and said, “Your witness,” Alvin looked with some trepidation at Pierce.
“You had a fight once with the defendant, didn’t you?”
“He hit me when I wasn’t lookin’. I wasn’t doin’ nothin’.”
“Several witnesses say you were attempting to molest his young daughter.”
“That’s a lie! I was just being nice to her.”
“I can bring witnesses who will testify that you did make improper advances to Mr. Freeman’s daughter.”
“Well, mebby it looked that ways.”
“Have you ever been in jail?”
“In jail?”
“Yes, in jail. Is that too hard for you? Have you ever been in jail?”
“I reckon.”
“How many times?”
“Two or three.”
Pierce walked over to the table and picked up a piece of paper. “I have a record here that you’ve been in jail sixteen times. Would you care to have me read them?”
“Uh, I didn’t know it was that many.”
“I object,” Hobbs shouted. “The witness’s criminal record has nothing to do with this testimony.”
“I believe the jury may have different ideas about that,” Pierce said.
Lanie sat on the edge of the bench through eight hours of testimony, with an hour out for lunch. When the judge ended the day, she asked Doc Givens, “How long will it take?”
“I don’t know, honey.” The grandfatherly man patted her shoulder. “Maybe a long time. Lawyers like to drag things out.”
“I don’t think I can stand it.”
“You’ll have to, honey. We all have to.”
The defense began on the third day. Orrin Pierce had warned them that the only defense they had was Forrest’s good record and his word against the bad record of Duke’s allies.
Before Forrest took the stand, Pierce brought eight character witnesses forward, all giving the same testimony: Forrest had never given anyone any trouble and never shown a violent streak.
Finally Forrest himself took the stand. He told his story in a straightforward fashion, and Lanie kept her hands clasped together for the duration. “How could anybody not believe him?” she whispered. She watched the jury but could not read their faces.
When Hobbs got up to cross-examine, he seemed to be a man beside himself. “Do you carry a gun, Mr. Freeman?”
“I have a gun.”
“I didn’t ask if you had a gun. I asked if you carried it?”
“I carry it when I go to the woods. I’ve shot many a snake with that gun.”
“Do you carry it when you’re not in the woods?”
“Not as a rule.”
“Not as a rule,” Hobbs sneered. “But you were carrying it when you went to the home of the murdered man.”
“I had been in the woods, and it was in my belt. I simply forgot about it.”
“Oh, you forgot about it!” Hobbs glanced at the jury. “I find that difficult to believe.”
“It’s the truth though.”
“You’d had trouble with Duke Biggins before.”
“Quite a few times. He worked for me, and he was unreliable. I had to stay on him constantly.”
Hobbs continued to hammer on the fact that Forrest had a gun, and finally he said, “I think the jury understands clearly what has happened. You had a gun, you were angry, and you went in the house and shot the man dead.”
Forrest did not answer, for there was no question.
“Is that true or not?”
“I’ve told you. Alvin Biggins drew a knife. I pulled the gun to stop him from stabbing me. Duke grabbed me from behind and wrestled me to the floor. The gun went off, and he was shot accidentally.”
“But three witnesses have sworn that you are lying.”
“They can swear all they want to, but they’re the liars.”
The trial dragged on for another day, but eventually both sides reached the end of their presentations. Both Hobbs and Pierce made their final statements, and the judge said, “The jury will now retire. They will find the verdict before they return to this courtroom. Court is recessed.”
Lanie looked around in confusion. “What do we do now?”
Orrin came over and said, “Are you kids all right?”
“What do we do now, Mr. Pierce?” Cody said. “How long will it be?”
“Nobody knows that, son. We just have to hang around and wait.
I know it’s hard, but there’s no other way.”
The jury did not return by five o’clock, and the judge declared that the court would not reconvene until the next day, if then.
“Come on. I’ll take you kids home,” Doc Givens said.
“Oh, we’ll do it,” Mr. Jinks said. “We got that big car of ours.”
“All right, Deoin.” The doctor looked at the four youngsters. “I know this is hard, but you’re going to have to be strong.” When he walked away, his shoulders were slumped.
Maeva stared after him. “He thinks Daddy’s going to be found guilty.”
“Come on,” Deoin said. “Let’s don’t hang around this place.”
“I got a good supper fixed,” Delilah said when they walked in the house.
“I don’t want nothin’,” Maeva said. She turned and ran up the stairs.
“I ain’t hungry either,” Cody said.
“You got to eat. We all do,” Lanie said. “Delilah fixed a good supper, and we’ve got to eat it. Has Corliss been good?”
“As good as gold.”
Lanie forced herself to eat, and after Delilah left she spent the evening taking care of Corliss. She got on the floor with her and played with her until bedtime. She put her in the bed, got her to sleep, then went to her own bedroom. She knelt down beside her bed and prayed for a long time for her father to be found innocent. She began crying somewhere in the middle of her prayer and simply got into bed. Cap’n Brown hopped up and pushed himself against her. She rubbed his silky fur. “Cap’n Brown, I couldn’t stand it if my daddy had to go to jail.”
Cap’n Brown began to purr.
“The jury’s back,” Orrin Pierce said. He’d brought the children to a special room, and his eyes were bloodshot and droopy.
“How does it look, Mr. Pierce?” Davis asked.
“You never know about a jury, but I think we’ve got a good chance. Come on. Let’s go back.”
In the crowded courtroom, people whispered until the judge came out. They all rose, and when the judge sat down, they took their seats again.
Judge Simons was silent for a time. He looked down at Forrest, who had been brought in by the police chief and was sitting beside Pierce. He said, “Will the defendant please rise?” Judge Simons turned to the jury. “Have you reached a verdict?”
Tom Maddox stood up. He was a farmer from east of town and said, “Yes, Judge, we have.”
“How do you find?”
“We do not find the defendant guilty of murder in the first degree.”
A wave of joy went through Lanie, and she clutched Maeva’s arm.
“We find him guilty of manslaughter.”
Lanie’s skin turned cold, and she could not move.
Judge Simons said, “I thank the jury for their work. It’s the court’s duty to make the world see that anyone who takes a life pays for it. I therefore sentence you, Forrest Wayne Freeman, to the maximum sentence for the crime of manslaughter. You will be delivered to the State Penitentiary at Cummings and serve for ten years at that institution.”
Maeva jumped up and shouted, “You’re a bad man, Judge! I hope you die!”
Judge Simons flinched and stared at the young girl glaring at him with a fierce hatred. He chose to ignore her.
Lanie put her arm around Maeva, trying not to cry, but when she saw her daddy being taken away, his s
houlders bent, she couldn’t help it. She turned blindly and stumbled into the arms of Miss Eden Marie Dunsmore, her English teacher, and began to weep.
PART THREE
The Miracle
C H A P T E R 13
Far in the east a milky whiteness announced the rising of the sun. Lanie, unable to sleep, got up, dressed, and went down to the kitchen. She started a fire in the stove, for the September weather was cold for Arkansas, and fixed a pot of coffee. Even this simple act was difficult, for it reminded her that this was the first thing she had done when she fixed breakfast for her father.
Pulling a sweater off a peg by the door, she slipped it on, picked up the mug of coffee, and went outside. For a time she stood on the front porch noting the gray spirals of smoke that rose from the stoves and fireplaces in Fairhope. She wondered how many of the families in those houses were thinking of the Freemans. A touch on the back of her legs startled her, and she turned to see Beau standing there. She knelt down and, holding the coffee in her left hand, put her arm around him. “Good morning, Beau,” she whispered. “How are you this morning?”
The big dog whined and licked her face. He gazed at her out of his mismatched eyes, one robin’s-egg blue, the other a warm brown. For a few moments Lanie fought back the tears, as she did every morning since she had said good-bye to her father. In this early cobwebby time of the day, the sadness seemed to well up in her. She cleared her throat and said as best as she could, “I haven’t got time for you, Beau. I’ve got to fix breakfast.”
Going back into the house, she started the routine. Her mind and hands worked quickly. At seven o’clock, she went upstairs and woke the boys and Maeva. By the time she got back downstairs, Corliss was awake, and she quickly changed her diaper and pulled the bed into the cooking area where it was warm. She heard the footsteps, and the boys came in with their hair wild and uncombed.
“You can’t go to school like that!” Lanie said.
“I don’t want to go to school, and Maeva says she ain’t goin’!” Cody proclaimed.
“What are you talking about? You’ve got to go to school! Here, you hold Corliss while I go talk to Maeva.”
She mounted the stairs and found Maeva staring at her defiantly from the bed. “Get out of that bed, Maeva! You’ve got to go to school.”
“I ain’t goin’!”
“Of course you’re going. You got to go. It’s the law. Now don’t make things any worse than they are.”
Maeva glared at Lanie but finally threw back the covers and got out of bed and began pulling off her flannel gown. “Well, I’ll go to the dumb old school—but I ain’t gonna learn nothin’!”
“You just hurry up and get downstairs. You’ve got chores to do.”
Lanie knew that it was going to be up to her to put the pressure on Maeva and her brothers. Davis would be no trouble, but Cody and Maeva would be. Her lips tightened as she went back into the kitchen. “You two go get washed up. I’ll have breakfast on the table by the time you get back.”
Cody grumbled, but the two of them went. Lanie finished the breakfast of scrambled eggs, fried ham, red-eye gravy, and biscuits left over from the day before. As they sat down to eat, she did not wait, but bowed her head and began praying. “Lord, bless this food and keep us safe. Be with Daddy, Lord, and we’re asking You to get him out of that place. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
The boys began shoveling the scrambled eggs into small mounds, breaking their biscuits and pouring gravy over them. Maeva shook her head rebelliously. “There ain’t no sense in prayin’ to get Daddy out of Cummings Prison.”
“Yes there is. God can do anything. Eat your breakfast and then go out and do your chores.”
Delilah came early, and as the children left the house, she said, “You do good now—and mind you keep your head up high. Don’t let nobody give you no sass. God’s gonna rare back and do a miracle with yo’ daddy.”
“Thank you, Delilah. That’s what I like to hear,” Lanie said. She left the house with the others, and they were joined by Alice and Max Jinks, who were bundled up against the cool fall air. Neither of them said a word about the trial, and Lanie was fairly certain their parents had strictly warned them against it. Max, Davis, and Cody ran on ahead while the three girls followed. Others joined them on the way, and not a one of them mentioned the fate of Forrest Freeman.
By the time they arrived at school, Lanie had steeled herself against what she considered to be an ordeal. She spoke to several of her friends and was aware that people cast secret glances at her. She remembered what Delilah had said, and she kept her head up high and managed to keep a semblance of a smile on her face. Helen Langley met her glance and held it for a moment, then put her head up and walked away.
Lanie’s first class was math, and she walked into Mr. Dixon’s room and took her seat without speaking to anybody. Mr. Dixon was already at the board putting problems on it, and Lowell Stockwell, who had revolutionized the role of the innkeeper in the Christmas pageant, whispered from behind Lanie. “I can’t work none of these problems, Lanie. You gotta let me see your answers.”
Lanie did not respond. Lowell could never pass math anyway, so everyone in the class let him copy. Mr. Dixon was aware of this, but said nothing. The math class passed without incident except that when she left, Mr. Dixon happened to put himself by the door as the students moved out. As Lanie passed, he put his hand on her shoulder, startling her. He winked at her and smiled. “You’re lookin’ good this morning, Lanie.”
The compliment flustered Lanie. “Why . . . thank you, Mr. Dixon. You look good too.”
“We make a good-looking couple.” He squeezed her shoulder, and Lanie knew that he was on her side at least.
The morning went quickly, and Lanie got through it hoping that Maeva and the boys had not gotten into trouble. The elementary students had less sophistication and, perhaps, were less kind than older students. She was tense all morning expecting the principal to come tell her that Maeva had punched somebody in the eye.
When she went into the cafeteria carrying her lunch, the Sixkiller twins, Dawn and Victor, approached her on each side. “Hey, come on and let’s eat. Maybe I’ll swap sandwiches with you,” Vic said.
Dawn winked at her. “Don’t trade with him. He’s already tried to swap with half a dozen people.”
They sat down, and Vic said, “I’ll go get the milk. You girls just sit here. Don’t be monkeyin’ with my lunch.”
Dawn turned to Lanie. “Why don’t you come home with me after school today? Daddy’s taking care of some brand-new collie puppies. They’re the cutest things you ever saw.”
“Oh, I’d love to, Dawn, but I have to get home and take care of Corliss.”
“Well, maybe you can come later.”
Lanie was aware that the girl was trying to show her sympathy, and she was grateful for it. When Vic came back with three glasses of milk, spilling some in the process, he said, “What kind of a sandwich you got?”
“Ham and cheese.”
“All I got’s a dumb old tuna fish. I hate tuna fish.”
“Here. You can have mine. I’ll trade you.”
Vic snatched at the sandwich and shook his head. “You’re not very smart, Lanie, trading good old ham and cheese for tuna fish.” He stuffed his mouth full and talked constantly. “You know, if it was the good old days, me and Dawn would be eatin’ buffalo tongue or maybe the liver. Those were the days.” He shook his head woefully and turned his eyes up and feigned sorrow. “No dumb school. Just huntin’ and scalpin’ the white eyes. Your scalp would be real good, Lanie.” He reached out and grabbed Lanie by the hair and gave it a pull.
“Let her alone or I’ll scalp you!” Dawn said.
“Well, she has got the prettiest hair I ever saw. Sure would make a nice-lookin’ scalp hanging from my tepee.”
As the three ate, others came by, and several managed to offer Lanie a cheerful word. She knew they were showing their support and thought, Maybe I can make it. Most peopl
e are so kind!
Doc Givens stepped inside the Dew Drop Inn, paused for a moment, and ran his eye around the crowd. Mamie Dorr, the beauty operator, was talking with Zeno Bruten, the mortician. They made an odd-looking pair, Mamie flushed and full of life, and Zeno Bruten looking like one of his own deceased clients, thin, lanky, and pale.
Doc Givens took the table next to the couple, and Mamie turned and flashed a smile at him. “Hi, Doc.”
“Good day, Mamie.”
“You know, you don’t need to be eatin’ in this restaurant all the time. Not good for your stomach.”
Givens glanced at her. “I only eat here at lunch time and then not very often.”
“What you need is a good wife, Doc, and I need a rich husband.
Why don’t you come courtin’ me?”
“I’m not rich!”
Mamie shook her head and gave him a lewd wink. “All doctors are rich.”
Sister Myrtle appeared at that moment. “What’ll you have, Doctor?”
“The special, I guess.”
Without moving from where she stood or turning her head, Sister Myrtle bellowed, “A special for Doc Givens, Charlie!”
Irritation made its mark on the doctor’s face. “Did it ever occur to you, Sister Myrtle, that some people might not like the other customers knowing what they order?”
“They ort not to eat things they’re ashamed of,” Sister Myrtle said firmly. “Besides, this ain’t a big place. Everybody can see what everybody else is eatin’.”
Zeno Bruten was looking at the paper. “I can’t believe this! On the first of September the New York stock market hit an all-time high.” He shook his head woefully. “The next day the thing nose-dived. What do you think about all this, Doc?”
“I never bought a share of stock in my life. My money’s in land. People are fools to put their money into paper that might not be worth a nickel the next day.”
“But good times is a-comin’,” Zeno insisted. “Why, Henry Ford is the smartest man in America, I guess, and he raised all his workers from six to seven dollars a day.”
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