Summer of the Guns

by Justin Daniel Herman

  I was shaking with fear as I withdrew the gun from the doll and handed Raggedy back to Sara. She hugged it tightly. Lenny seemed paralyzed, unable to move, frozen to the spot where he stood. “Don’t shoot me,” he pleaded. “Don’t shoot me, Billie. I never wanted to hurt you. It was him. I never wanted to hurt nobody, honest.” Then we heard the sound of sirens and the room filled with police. Kelly had managed to call them. Someone took the gun out of my hand but I was hardly aware of it. I pulled Sara close as if the two of us could shut out all the horror around us.

  16

  All three of us children were taken away—Sara to the hospital and Kelly and me to the lockup on Durango Street. For the rest of the day, I was grilled by Corey Riggs, the detective, along with some other cops. I didn’t see Jimmy Parsons. I thought Riggs would ask me all sorts of questions about the killings, only that’s not what he was interested in. “Oaf mentioned some secret papers that Ace kept in the house,” he said, “do you know anything about them?”

  I was silent at first. Ace didn’t want us to tell anyone about the papers, at least not until he said it was okay. Only Oaf had gone and told anyway. I figured it didn’t make any sense to lie about them, especially to a policeman. “Ace told us there was some big insurance scandal,” I finally admitted. “He had some papers hidden under the floor, he said, that would prove everything. I thought maybe he was just blowing a lot of smoke, to be honest.”

  “Where were they hidden?” he asked in a sharp tone.

  I shrugged. “Under one of the linoleum tiles in the kitchen. Toward the back end, near the wall. Second row in. He showed us the tile, but I never saw what was under there.” He kept asking more questions about it, but I didn’t have anything else to tell him. Finally he gave up and transferred me to the girls’ dormitory.

  On the first night there, I woke up listening to the sounds around me. I was glad I was in a place with other girls, even though there were bars on the windows above my bed. Outside a dog started to bark and others joined in. “Shut up those damned curs,” someone yelled out, several beds down from me. “We got a right to sleep over here.” The barking didn’t stop.

  “They’ll quiet down after a while,” said someone lying on the bed next to me. The moonlight falling through the window allowed me to make out her features as she sat up and scratched her head. She was a hard-looking girl with deep-set eyes and short blonde hair. “There’s a dog pound over there,” she said. “They keep us prisoners right beside the damned dogs. But we’re lucky at that, I guess. We don’t get put to sleep.”

  I sat up and peered through the window. I could make out another long gray building about a hundred yards away. It had a chain link fence around it. After a few minutes, the dogs quieted except for some occasional yelps. Then I heard a bark that sounded like Stranger’s. I figured he must be over there.

  “Sad, ain’t it?” said my companion. “Makes me feel like cryin’ sometimes.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say back to her.

  “Only crybabies don’t last long in here,” she went on. She studied me, then spoke again. “They say you killed a guy.”

  “Yeah,” I answered. “I guess I killed him. I tried to anyway.”

  She told me her name was Jackie, then she started talking about how terrible her parents were. They’d abandoned her in Phoenix and run off somewhere. She didn’t even know where they were. She’d eaten out of garbage cans until the police put her in an orphanage. Only she’d kept getting in trouble after that until they’d put her in the girls’ detention center.

  “We have a lot in common,” I answered. Then I told her all about my aunties in Arkansas and how my father was taking us to California, only he’d gotten arrested for shooting a woman.

  “We can be best friends,” she said quietly. Then she moved to the edge of the bed and put a finger over her mouth. “Listen,” she said in a whisper. “I got a secret. I know how to break out of here. Want to join me? I got a place to hide after we get out.”

  “No,” I answered firmly. She had strong-looking arms, I noticed, with veins on her muscles.

  “It ain’t as if I’d ask just anybody,” she said. “I figured you’d be tough enough to handle it. Guess I was wrong.”

  “I’m tough enough,” I replied. “But my little sister’s here too, over in the hospital part. And so’s my friend Kelly. I can’t leave until I know what’s happening to them.”

  “Did they kill somebody, too?” Jackie asked.

  “No,” I said, trying to shut down the conversation. “Let me sleep. It’s gonna be a bad day tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” she said, “but think about it. You ain’t gonna like the Reformatory.”

  Jackie turned over and kept quiet while I lay there listening to the dogs whine. I turned over and sobbed into my pillow so the others couldn’t hear me.

  The next morning I awoke to the sound of a clanging door. A skinny female guard walked down the hallway counting heads, stopping now and then to pull the blankets off of people. When she came to me, she stopped.

  “You’re the new one,” she said. “They want you in the office. Get up and put your clothes on, then follow me. The rest of you get showered and dressed for breakfast.”

  I was so depressed I could hardly move, but I managed to get dressed and comb my hair a little before I followed her.

  In the next room over, two female guards lounged with their feet up on chairs, reading newspapers and smoking. “She’s in there,” said one of them, pointing toward a door that said “VISITORS.”

  I followed my guard inside and saw Cora Malcome standing at a window with her back to me. She had on her starched white uniform, as usual. When she turned to face me I saw that her eyes were puffy from crying. “I’m sorry about Ace,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I want you to know I have that box, but I haven’t figured out what to do with it. I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”

  I looked at the floor, then glanced back at her. “How about your nephew, Jimmy Parsons,” I said. “Ace told me he’d help us.”

  “He’s just a motorcycle cop, Billie. I don’t see how he can do anything.”

  I couldn’t hide the disappointment on my face. It all seemed hopeless.

  “Oh, Billie,” she said, placing her hands on my shoulders, “it’s going to be all right, honey. It’s all going to work out. You’ll see. I’m gonna be there at the hearing this morning.”

  “Will it be like before, when I talked to Judge Knapp?” I asked.

  “No, sweetie,” she replied. “This is just a juvenile case. Judge Baines will be in charge. He’s not my favorite person, but you shouldn’t be afraid. They’re going to ask questions and you just tell the truth. You shot Tom Sykes in self-defense after he killed Ace. We all know that. They have Lenny Wells in custody and he’ll have to back you up. Detective Riggs will be there and he likes you. Jimmy, my nephew, will be there too, unofficially, of course.”

  “Then you think they’ll turn me loose?” I asked, feeling more hopeful.

  “Well, not exactly,” she replied slowly. “You’re a child in the eyes of the law. And your sister’s only six. If you had relatives here, like an aunt or something, they’d let you go with them. But I’m afraid there’s nobody to take you in. Your father’s in prison, so he’s no help.”

  “Then what’s going to happen?” I asked, already knowing the answer. “Will they put me in reform school?”

  “No, honey, you haven’t done anything wrong,” she answered slowly. “But....” Her voice trailed off.

  “But they might place me and Sara in an orphanage,” I answered. “Is that what you were gonna say?” My voice was shaky.

  “Well,” she responded uncertainly, “maybe so, maybe not. I’ve already put in a request to Judge Baines to have you released in my custody—you, and Percy and Sara. I’m taking care of Sara in the clinic. Her arm’s improving fast, but she’s awfully scared. They’ve given her some sedatives to help her get through the trauma. I’m no
t sure they’ll let me take you all, at least not right away. There’s red tape—rules and regulations. I’ll do the best I can, Billie, for Ace as well as you. I want you to know that I’m paying for Ace’s funeral. He was a good man.”

  “I know,” I said, “I know.” I couldn’t stop the tears as I thought of him. His loss was almost as terrible as the loss of my mother and father. “Maybe you better not take me in,” I said to Nurse Malcome. “Everybody that helps us either dies or goes to prison.”

  “Oh honey,” she said, pulling me to her breast, “nothing’s going to happen to me. You girls and Kelly will be fine, just fine. Of course I’ll take you in. If and when they let me.” Her words trailed off again. The next thing I knew another guard came in to the room.

  “Sorry, Cora, time’s up,” he said. “We have to get this girl ready for that hearing. Are you gonna be there?” He was a jovial man, with a round, pleasant face.

  “Yes, I am, Pat,” she said. “I hear they’re starting early.”

  “At nine,” the guard answered, “over in the court building. But, hell, you know where that is as well as I do. We’ve been there a few times, ain’t we?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “Yes we have, Pat. But not like this. You watch after this girl now, Pat. I’m counting on you.”

  “I will,” he nodded. “She’s gonna be my partner, aren’t you, girl?”

  I didn’t answer but I managed a smile.

  The female guard took over and pointed me toward the empty shower room. The others had gone to breakfast by the time I got there. I let the water run over me and soaped myself thoroughly, as if I could wash off all the bad things. I was worried about Cora Malcome, too. Only I stopped worrying and became angry when they told me to put on a dress for court. The guard said my other clothes were being washed.

  When I finished dressing, I joined the others for breakfast in the mess hall. I sat down next to Jackie. She looked at me and laughed. “So you really are a girl!” she said, “what took you so long? I thought they were gonna transfer you over to the adult jail. They do that sometimes when they can’t handle kids that done real bad stuff. You look different in a dress.”

  Someone placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of me. I ate a few bites half-heartedly, then put the spoon down.

  “Did you think it over?” she whispered.

  I knew what she meant but I didn’t answer at first. “I can’t,” I finally told her. “I have to stay with my sister. We may go to an orphanage. I’ll have to protect her there.”

  “Well don’t say I didn’t ask you,” she said, brushing her hand through her blonde hair. “Let me know at lunch if you change your mind. I already told my friend you were with us. He said it’ll be easy to get us out. Sometimes with girls, they don’t even look for them. But they will for you. You killed someone.”

  I got up when the bell rang and filed out with the others, but my male guard pulled me aside. “You’re comin’ with me again,” he said in a voice that was kinder than I expected. “My name’s Fellows, Pat Fellows. Cora’s a good friend, so you’re my friend too, if you want me to be.” He had soft eyes like a dog and a double chin that shook when he walked. I hadn’t been sure about trusting him earlier, but I started to like him.

  We cut across the yard toward a smaller building, painted gray. Inside was a receiving room where a sour-looking secretary sat at a cluttered desk. “Oh, Pat,” she said as we walked in, “this colored girl must be real important. Lacy Horne’s here himself.” Then she looked me up and down. “I guess you think you’re tough,” she said. “They’ll change your mind in there.”

  “Don’t pay attention to her,” said Fellows after she’d gone into another room. “She’s just a bitter old lady. I don’t like the sound of this, though. They won’t even let you have a lawyer, and they’re bringing in their big dog for the prosecution. I can’t figure what the rush is. It usually takes a month before a hearing comes up.”

  17

  The hearing room we entered had about twenty or so chairs, some already occupied. There was a table at the front with a wooden gavel atop it, along with a black book that I assumed was a Bible. As I watched, a heavy-set man in a black robe sat down behind the table. Then we took seats in the front row.

  “That’s Judge Baines,” said Pat. Then I saw Cora Malcome come in. She sat right behind me, as close as she could get. “I’m with you, Billie,” she said, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Like I told you. Just tell the truth. It’ll all work out.”

  I wanted to believe her, but I couldn’t. I felt even worse when I saw Jack and Lenny Wells come in together and take seats in a roped-off area. Lenny wasn’t even handcuffed. He averted his eyes when I looked at him.

  Then Detective Riggs came in. He looked over and smiled at me before sitting down away from everyone else. Cora’s nephew, Jimmy Parsons, came in behind him, but he wasn’t in uniform. He sat next to Cora and whispered something in her ear.

  The judge brought his gavel down and people started to rise.

  “Sit down, sit down,” he said. “These juvenile hearings are informal. We won’t even have a bailiff, just a court reporter. I’ll swear in the witnesses myself.” He paused and loosened his collar, then continued. “As you know, or maybe you don’t know, this hearing concerns the deaths of Thomas Wayne Sykes and Alton B. ‘Ace’ Kelly. The court has been informed by the detective in charge, Mr. Corey Riggs, that Mr. Kelly was shot by Mr. Sykes who, in turn, was shot by a juvenile named Billie Jane Moran. To make her feel at ease, we’re just going to call her Billie, like everyone else does. Is that all right with you, Billie? We will drop the ‘Jane’; they informed me you don’t like it.”

  I nodded my head in agreement as he smiled down at me. He was a big, friendly-looking man with graying hair and little hands that seemed too small for his thick wrists. “Quiet, quiet in the Court,” the judge said, bringing his gavel down again. I looked back as the door opened again. A slender man with thick glasses and a sallow face stepped in, quickly taking a chair behind a lady who had a typewriter in front of her. She was the court reporter, Fellows told me. “And that guy’s a political reporter from the Tribune,” he whispered. “What the hell’s he doin’ here? This ain’t nothin’ but a juvenile hearing.”

  He stopped whispering when the County Attorney, Lacy Horne, rose and began to speak. “Your honor, ladies, gentlemen,” Horne said, “we’re not here to determine the matter of who shot whom. We know that already. Not only has Billie Jane Moran admitted to firing the shot that killed Mr. Sykes, but we also have an eyewitness who saw both shootings—Mr. Leonard Wells, a close friend of Tom Sykes. Mr. Wells and Billie Jane both saw Tom Sykes shoot Mr. Kelly. The purpose of this hearing is to clarify the sequence of events leading up to these shootings and also, to hopefully resolve the matter of conflicting accounts given by Billie Jane Moran and Leonard Wells. In order to accomplish this, we will hear from the others who have information bearing on this case.” He kept calling me Billie Jane in spite of what the judge had said.

  Then he paused and looked over toward the roped-off area where Jack and Lenny Wells sat. I saw Kelly there, too, accompanied by a big guard. “Your Honor,” said Horne, “I’d like to call as my first witness Mr. Leonard Wells. Mr. Wells, would you come forward, please?” Then the judge stepped from behind his table and picked up the Bible. Lenny placed his hand on it. “You swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?” the judge said hurriedly.

  Just as Lenny replied “I do,” Cora spoke up from behind me. “You’re damn right he won’t—not even on a stack of Bibles. This is a disgrace. That boy should be in chains. He’s a killer. A murderer!”

  “Quiet, quiet, quiet!” shouted the judge as everyone looked at Cora, who was standing up. “Ms. Malcome,” the judge said angrily, “I don’t see good reason for you to be here. I’ll give you thirty seconds to leave. Do you hear me? Thirty seconds! After that I’ll order one of the officers to take you into custody for contempt.” Cora hesi
tated, looking around at everyone with embarrassment. Then she spoke up again. “I’m sorry, your honor, but I just had to say what I said.”

  “Your thirty seconds are up,” said the judge, but Cora was already leaving, walking proudly toward the door.

  After Lenny was sworn in, he sat down in the witness chair by the table and Mr. Horne started talking again. “Now Leonard,” he said, “I want you to clear up something that happened the night before the shootings took place. Mr. Earl Smith, also known as Oaf Smith, who is presently in custody, stated that he and Billie burglarized your brother, Mr. Jack Wells. Mr. Wells, however, told Detective Riggs that there had been no break-in at his house. Can you straighten us out on this?”

  “Yes sir,” said Lenny in an agreeable voice. He was all slicked up in his Sunday clothes. “At that time, my brother didn’t know he’d been broke into. After he’d been told, he went back to his house, checked out everything, and found some jimmy marks on his doors and windows. He called me at my apartment about it. He said he wasn’t missing nothing but he wanted me to come over and check my old room where I’d put some things for safekeeping.”

  “And did you do this?” asked Horne.

  “Yes sir,” Lenny replied. “I surely did. Me and my roommate Tommy—Tom Sykes—both of us went over.”

  “And what things had you put there for safekeeping, Leonard?”

  “It was Tommy’s stuff, not mine. I never actually saw inside the box, but Tom told me it contained some money. About a hundred dollars. His mother had given it to him to have her diamond ring fixed. It had a loose setting or something. The ring was in the box, too, he said, along with some other stuff that wasn’t worth nothin’. I don’t know what the other stuff was.”

  “Why did you take the box to your brother’s house?” Horne asked. “Why didn’t Tom just keep it with him?”

  “Because our apartment’s in a bad part of town. We just thought the box would be safer at my brother’s place.”