by Lisa Smartt
Matthew moved slowly toward Jerry and spoke like a principal chastising an unruly student. “Jerry, get off this porch before I do something we both regret.”
Jerry raised both hands above his head and yelled, “Go ahead! Kill me, Matthew! Not like you ain’t killed plenty of other people. Why not me? Sarah, you better watch your back! Once a con, always a con!”
Matthew turned toward me and shook his head. “He’s drunk. Go inside and call 9-1-1. I’ll hold him ‘till they get here.”
When I got back out to the porch, Jerry Conner’s gun was on the porch swing. Jerry was lying face down on a big rug and Matthew was holding his arms behind his back. I didn’t ask. And he didn’t volunteer any information. But as far as I could tell, no injuries had been sustained by either party. In fact, Jerry looked unusually calm, like he was almost asleep. Within five minutes, a sheriff’s deputy car pulled into Chester and Ida’s driveway. He left his lights off so as not to cause a commotion.
I was relieved to see Bob Garrett get out of the car. I had full confidence he would do the right thing. I wasn’t even sure what the right thing was. He ambled toward the porch as he shook his head. “This here doesn’t seem like a very good situation. Sarah, why don’t you give me your take on it.”
“Yes, sir. Well, Matthew and I were just out here on the porch when Jerry came by and started shining the spot light and accusing him of a bunch of stuff. Unfounded accusations, of course. Anyway, that’s when Matthew realized he’d been drinking and definitely didn’t need to be carrying a gun and driving the patrol car. Jerry said it’s parked around the block because he wanted to sneak up on us.”
“Yeah. I saw it down by the diner.”
“Matthew thought we should hold him and call you.”
“Smart. Both of ya. Matthew, I’d say you exercised quite a bit of restraint in this situation. Accusations, false or otherwise, have led to many a man’s angry downfall.”
Jerry mumbled, “He assaulted me. Assaulted a law man. Let him rot in jail.”
Mr. Garrett walked onto the porch and picked up Jerry’s gun. “Good God, that smell! He’s been out at Miss Lucy’s. That’s definitely the smell of Miss Lucy’s gut rot. Don’t even know how they call that stuff moonshine. Stronger than gasoline. Let me see if I can help you a bit.” He carefully cuffed his hands behind his back. “Jerry! Jerry, let’s see if we can get you stood up now. I’m gonna have to take you in. Don’t make it hard, hard on either of us.”
I stayed on the porch while Matthew helped Mr. Garrett pull Jerry to his feet and walk him to the patrol car. Jerry was spewing expletives the whole way. By the time they got to the car, he was sleepy and happy to lie down in the back seat. But he still managed to yell out, “You’re goin’ back to jail, Matthew. Jail!”
As Matthew came walking up the steps, he no longer looked relaxed. Or happy. “The sheriff’s deputy wants to talk to you before he leaves.”
“Oh, okay.”
Mr. Garrett was propped up against the car. Moonlight provided just enough light to see fatherly concern on his face. He spoke quietly. “Sarah, I’ve known you your whole life. And you know I’m a straight shooter, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I went to school with your mama and daddy. Good people. Both of them. And there’s nobody in this county that’s respected any more than you are. You know that.”
“But?”
“But reputations tarnish much more quickly than they’re built.”
“And that means what?”
“It means be careful. I’m not saying Jerry’s accusations were founded. And Lord knows Jerry’s disdain for Matthew Prescott has nothing to do with the Millers. Truth is, he’s still sweet on ya. We all know that. But no matter.” He put his arm around my shoulder. “I get that Matthew didn’t do all that time for bank robbery or murder. I know he was young and it was all a terrible accident. But Sarah, fourteen years in prison? Trust me. Prison does things to a man’s soul. If a man ain’t a criminal when he goes in, well, a lot of times he is one by the time he gets out. It hardens him. It does. And if your daddy was still here, believe me, he’d tell ya the same thing. I better get Jerry to the tank.” He walked around to the driver’s side but paused before opening the door. “Look, I’m not telling you what to do…or what not to do. Just telling you to be careful.”
“Thank you, Mr. Garrett. I understand.” I waved as I watched his car pull away. All the joy of 30 minutes ago had now been tainted. Tarnished. Corrupted. I was mad at Jerry Conner. Mad at Bob Garrett. Or was I really mad at Matthew? Mad at him for taking drugs fifteen years ago. Mad at him for having to live with the memories of prison. Mad at Chester and Ida for loving him so much…for convincing me to love him too.
Matthew stood quietly on top of the porch steps. Still handsome but troubled now. Hands in his pockets. Make-up still smeared on his ironed blue oxford shirt. I didn’t even walk up the steps. I couldn’t. “It’s getting late. I better get home. Can you hand me my purse?”
He didn’t speak one word. Just nodded. When he handed me the purse, he managed not to touch me.
“Thanks. I’ll see you at visitation tomorrow night. I’ll be there around 5:00.”
“That’ll be fine.”
“Matthew?”
“Yes.”
“You did the right thing. With Jerry, I mean. A lot of men would have flown off the handle. Said a bunch of stuff they’d regret later. Or worse, punched his lights out.” I laughed nervously. “Not that you weren’t tempted. I’m sure you were tempted to deck him.”
He shuffled his feet and looked up at the moon. “The ramblings of a drunk man aren’t worth prison time, Sarah.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“Look, we both know if you hadn’t been here, telling what happened, they would have taken me in with him.” He lowered his head. “My word against his.”
“And that would have gone…”
“Only one way.”
“Well, I hope you can get some rest. It’s been a crazy day. A hard day for everyone. Try to get some rest, Matthew.”
He nodded. “You too.”
I started the car and looked through the windshield one more time before I backed out. He was still standing on the porch in the exact same place. A hopeful man now broken again. My eyes filled with tears. The gentleness of his kiss would never be forgotten. But neither would Mr. Garrett’s solemn words. “Prison does things to a man’s soul.”
Chapter 36, CARLIE: Tuesday Morning, Full of Grace
It was 7:00 am and Aunt Charlotte didn’t even bother with the knock and familiar “Yoo Hoo!” Doug and I were sitting at the table drinking coffee when she and Uncle Bart ran in the kitchen door as though they were headin’ to a fire.
Aunt Charlotte’s face was red and sweaty. “You been listenin’ to the local news?”
Doug put down the newspaper. “No.”
“Jerry Conner done got arrested last night. Drinkin’ and startin’ trouble with Matthew Prescott. I knew there was gonna be trouble! I did! Lord, I told that young’un to stay away from Miss Lucy.” She shook her head. “He don’t listen though. He don’t.”
Doug stood and pulled out a kitchen chair. “Here. Have a seat, Aunt Charlotte. You’re gonna get overly excited and then you’ll be the next one in the news.”
Uncle Bart barked, “Hell yeah! That’s what I been tellin’ her, Doug. She don’t listen any better than Jerry does.”
She moved quickly toward the chair. “Carlie, Honey, I’ll take some milk in my coffee and a lot of sugar, if you got it. None of that walnut sage hickory nut creamer or whatever the gall darn stuff is. Just milk and a lot of sugar.”
I laughed. “And I guess you want something to eat too?”
“Yeah, ‘cause you know my nerves is on edge, Baby. On edge.”
“Uncle Bart, what about you?”
“Black coffee and whatever you got.”
I set their cups of coffee on the table along with two big hunks
of Mabel’s famous banana bread.
Doug put the newspapers aside. “Okay. Start again.”
Aunt Charlotte spoke more calmly. “Well, Jerry got drunk last night and decided to make trouble for Matthew. When he got to Chester and Ida’s, well, guess what he found? Go ahead, Baby. Guess.”
Doug replied with absolute calmness. “I have no idea.”
Her voice escalated as though she were revealing the formula for a secret weapon. “Well, he done found Matthew and Sarah out on the porch, uh, well, back in my day we called it sparkin’! Yes, sir! They was sparkin’, the two of ‘em. Right out there on Chester and Ida’s front porch.”
Doug bit his lip but a small laugh escaped despite his best efforts. “Sparkin’, eh?”
Aunt Charlotte looked deathly serious. “Yeah they were. Cora Belle heard the whole thang. Said Jerry went off on a rant ‘bout how they wasn’t neither one grievin’ proper for Ida and Chester. And how it was just a little too convenient that Matthew got all friendly with Chester and Ida and then them both end up dead at the exact same time.”
Doug shook his head. “You have got to be kiddin’ me! Everybody in town knows Matthew loved those two. And they loved him too. That’s crazy. Jerry’s just jealous. And I guess he’s in a lot of trouble now too.”
Uncle Bart piped up. “Lloyd Cramer done fired his ass before he hit the drunk tank. Sarah called 9-1-1. Bob showed up to carry him in.”
Doug shook his head. “This is gonna kill his mama. And Jerry too. A tragedy. All the way around.”
Aunt Charlotte leaned forward. “You’re not gonna wanna hear this next part, Doug Darlin’.”
He smiled. “Oh, then maybe you better not tell me.” But of course, that was like telling the wind not to blow or ice cream not to melt in the hot sun.
“Some folks been talkin’.”
“Oh, I’ve no doubt they’ve been talkin’.”
“Some folks is suspect ‘cause Chester and Ida? Well, you won’t believe it. They done left their whole place to Matthew. Yes, sir. The house. The car. The glassware collection. Reckon he could even lay claim to that 50 states quilt, if he had a mind to. ‘Course ever’body ‘round here knows that Ida had every intention of donating that to the Fire Department raffle.”
Doug’s voice was gentle as he smiled and shook his head. “Those two were something else, weren’t they? I’m glad they did what they did. The way I see it, leaving the whole place to Matthew was like a final life lesson. To all of us. A reminder that they both believed in second chances. And maybe we should too.”
“Well, not ever’body sees it that way, Hon.”
“People see what they want to see, Aunt Charlotte.”
Aunt Charlotte put the last crumb of banana bread in her mouth as she rose from the chair. “You’re right about that, Baby. Well, Bart and I best be gettin’ on. I still gotta make my deviled eggs and meatloaf for the funeral dinner tomorrow. And Cora Belle and I got hair appointments for this mornin’.”
Doug stood and reached out to hug her. “Aunt Charlotte, do me one favor. Please.”
“You know I’d do anything for ya.”
“Let’s try to support Matthew. If you hear talk, bad talk, come to his defense. We’ve spent a lot of time with him over these months. And there’s no way I’m gonna believe he did anything but love and support Chester and Ida. And there’s no way he tried to influence them to make him the benefactor of their place either. I mean, you believe that, right?”
“Oh, absolutely. That precious little thang been through so much. So much hurt. Disappointment. Ida and Chester was like his real chance at family. No. Matthew Prescott would have never done nothin’ to hurt them.” She laughed. “Especially not for a house full of soda pop junk and a car that spends more time broke down on the shoulder of the road than it does ‘tween the lines.”
Chapter 37, CARLIE: Let’s Stand in Support of Sparkin’
At 5:00, Groeden’s parking lot was already full. Mr. Billings, the school janitor and local newshound, had already filled everyone in on the latest news. Evidently Chester and Ida have two living relatives. Two great-nephews. Both live with their families in southern Indiana. After being contacted about Chester and Ida’s death, they arrived in Sharon mid-morning. When they did some research and discovered they weren’t in the will, they promptly left town after lunch. Mabel said they were in such an angry mood, they didn’t even leave a tip. This was especially insulting because she’d already given them a 10% discount in honor of their bereavement.
As we walked through the parking lot, I wondered how visitation would go seeing as there were no family members present. When we have funeral home visitation in Sharon, Tennessee, the family members all stand by the casket near the front of the room. People stand in line to greet the family members and tell them how sorry they are. Sometimes they even say things like, “Your daddy was my favorite teacher. He taught me my times tables.” Or “Your grandma taught me how to knit when I was in middle school.”
Sometimes they even tell stories about the deceased that seem like they’re not complimentary at all. Things like: “Your brother used to always cheat at checkers. He’d run around the barber shop every Saturday bragging that he beat me. But that ol’ scoundrel couldn’t have beaten a preschooler at checkers.” Or “Your granddaddy was the tightest man I knew. Once tried to get me to sell ‘em a watermelon for a dollar. And that man was such a talker, he nearly had me convinced.”
Y’see, the point of funeral home visitation stories is not really to make the deceased person seem perfect. We all know he or she wasn’t perfect. It’s about, well, making the family members know that despite the imperfections, their daddy or grandma or brother was an original. One of a kind. That he or she made a difference, that they’ll never be forgotten.
Mr. Groeden extended his hand to Doug and pointed toward the big room where Chester and Ida’s bodies lay. At the front of the room, Matthew and Brother Dan were standing by the caskets, greeting people as they came by. Matthew wore the same clothes he wore when he spoke at the rally downtown. Dark pants and a burgundy striped shirt that Doug had helped him pick out at the men’s store. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept well. Brother Dan wore a dark suit and looked like he’d slept just fine.
A few times Brother Dan patted Matthew on the back. I felt confident he was saying stuff like, “Mrs. Eula, Matthew here was such a blessing to the both of them during their final months. He took good care of them. He did.” I only hoped that Brother Dan, with all his tenderness and kindness, wasn’t overselling Matthew…especially to the customers who weren’t quite ready to buy.
I remembered Aunt Charlotte’s early morning declarations about Matthew and Sarah on the porch last night. I scanned the room but she wasn’t here yet. Doug was busy visiting with Maxine about interest rates when I noticed Matthew looking around the room too. I felt confident he was looking for Sarah. Y’see, there are some things I don’t know anything about, a lot of things actually. Algebra. Geography. Physics. How to find my car in the Wal-Mart parking lot. But I do know about people. About men. About women. And blessedly, I know about love.
When there were only about five people in front of us, Matthew startled a little. Then he smiled and nodded. I turned my head just as Sarah greeted Mabel and stepped into the line. She was beautiful. More beautiful every time I saw her. She had on black pants and a black sweater. Her hair was down and her make-up flawless. I made eye contact. She waved. I grinned and raised my eyebrows. I felt confident she understood my signals. After all, everyone in town had heard the news by now. Chester and Ida died within twelve hours of each other. The TV folks were to arrive in three days to start shooting the reality show. Jerry Conner no longer works for the Sheriff’s department because he got drunk last night while he was on duty. And Matthew and Sarah? Well, evidently they were caught sparkin’. Sparkin’ on Chester and Ida’s front porch.
Chapter 38, SARAH: Let’s Give Them Somethin’ to Talk About
M
ama called this morning right before I left for school. Wondered if I knew the whole town was already talking about me and Matthew, and about Jerry getting arrested. I didn’t know. But I wasn’t surprised either. She asked if I regretted making a fool of myself with an ex-con I barely knew. My answer was definitive. “No, Mama. I didn’t make a fool of myself. I don’t regret it either. And no, Matthew isn’t someone I barely know. I’ve known him for several months. He works hard at Dusty’s Shop. He took good care of Chester and Ida. Besides, we all thought we knew Jerry Conner, right? And look what happened there. Who’s the law breaker, Mama? Matthew or Jerry? I think you’re a bit confused.”
Mama didn’t buy it though. And I figured she wasn’t the only one. I could feel the stares as I entered the funeral home. Carlie is the only one who looks like she’s happy to see me. Happy enough to lose her place in line to come speak to me.
“Hey! Sarah.”
“Carlie.”
“Why don’t we go outside for a minute? Visitation’s just getting started. We’ll have time.”
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll run tell Doug. He’ll be happy sitting on the pew a while anyway. He and Maxine are talking interest rates.”
“I’ll meet you outside then.” But I didn’t go outside. Maybe I should have. But I didn’t. I made eye contact with Matthew. He looked tired and sad. But even in the sadness, he managed a smile. So I walked to the front of the room. I could feel all eyes on me but it didn’t matter anymore. In fact, it almost gave me courage. Sarah Simpson. Hometown girl. Girl who never crossed her mama or daddy, went to local college, became a teacher, moved into her Granny’s house. That Sarah Simpson was gonna make a scene in Sharon, Tennessee. Not a bad scene. A good scene.
Mitch and his wife, Judy, were up next. I pleasantly asked if I could break line just for a moment. They stepped back and smiled. I reached out for Matthew and, though he looked surprised, he put his arms all the way around me. I whispered, “I’m sorry I left so quickly last night. Don’t know what I was thinking. I know this whole situation is hard. But I want you to know I’m here for you. I am. I’m going outside but I’ll be back.” I pulled away and then leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.