Beyond The Truth

by BobA. Troutt

  *****

  Beyond the Truth

  Sweetwater Creek, Kentucky

  It was the first full day of autumn in the year of our Lord 1952. I lived in the small town of Sweet Water Creek, Kentucky. My name is Willy Hornsby. My daddy nicknamed me “Poot;” he always said I was a little stinker. He calls my sister Margaret “Punkin.” Daddy would always make me so mad. He would say that even though right now everyone was calling me Poot, when I got bigger they would call me Fart. He would laugh. I didn’t think it was so funny. But when I got bigger people just called me William, thank the Lord.

  I’ll never forget that day as long as I live. It started off early that morning. I was in the back yard watching the birds fly. They were flying high in the grayish blue skies with a touch of clouds floating about. As I stood there, I watched them fly close together, swaying to the right then the left, then up and down, quickly turning about. I knew by their flight that cooler weather would be drawing near. I looked across the blue, and saw another swarm of birds flying recklessly as some perched upon the powerlines. At first there were several, and then at last there were only two or three. The leaves dressed the trees with bright romantic colors as some laid at rest on the ground, while others waltzed about in the quiet stir of the breeze.

  I used to love summer, riding my bike and playing in the warm sunny days. I remember the summer showers that used to come and leave. I recall running about wildly out in the rain and getting soaked. Then it would stop raining and the sun would come out and dry it all up. You could smell the dust from the road where the rain had fallen. But as I grew older, autumn became my time of year.

  We lived outside of Sweet Water in Sullivan County. Going by the road it was about a mile from town, but you could cut through the woods and it was closer, a half mile maybe. Across the river was Delk, Missouri, and to the south of us was Gutter Creek, Tennessee. People around here always did say that Sweet Water was at the point where Tennessee, Missouri, and Kentucky met. Sweet Water got its name from an old Indian saying. There was a beautiful Indian girl once named New Moon. She was half Indian and half white. She fell in love with an Indian boy named Painted Cloud. They were deeply in love. The old Indian folklore said that she blew him a kiss through the waterfall and their love was so strong between them, when the kiss passed through the water the water turned sweet.

  We had lost Mama a couple of years ago to T.B.; I sure do miss her. She was the greatest mama in the world. I still think about her a lot. I miss her chocolate gravy and biscuits for breakfast. There was something about Mama that was special. She fixed fried rabbit with white gravy or sawmill gravy. We would pick wild spring lettuce at the spring. She would cut it up with some onions, and then pour hot bacon grease over it. Hush your mouth—it was good. She would bake some sweet potatoes and put a little brown sugar and butter on them. They were good, too. I always laugh when I think about what she always said. Mama called sweet potatoes music roots because they made you fart.

  Everyone called Daddy “Coondog” for he had an eye for finding coons along with our dog, Miss Maggie. It was Daddy, my sister Margaret, and Miss Maggie. She was one of a litter of puppies that was running around everywhere. One day they were out in the road when they almost got hit by a car. That busted up the litter and after that Miss Maggie came to our house and hung around. Mama said not to feed her because she’ll stay. We tried running her off, but she would always go behind the house and hide. Mama had a soft heart and gave into Miss Maggie and she has been here ever since.

  We lived on Chicken Branch Road out in the boonies. We didn’t have indoor plumbing. Whenever we had to use the bathroom, we went to the outhouse. At night, after dark, we used a slop jar in the back room. Then early in the morning we would empty it. When we took our baths, we would draw water from the well, heat it up and take our bath in a wash pan, also in the back room. We used coal oil lamps, and cooked on a wood cook stove. It may have not been much to some, but it was all we had. Mama and Daddy always taught us to be thankful.

  It was that early autumn morning Daddy wanted us to go to Ethel’s Store and get a few things. Ethel’s was a country store that set not far up the road. That’s where we bought a lot of things. Daddy would buy stands of lard, twenty-five pound sacks of flour and meal for five or six dollars. With ten dollars you could get a whole box full of groceries. I remember Daddy would give Margaret and me a quarter every Saturday and we would go to Ethel’s and buy a soft drink, a snack, and some candy. Daddy liked Ethel’s bologna. She would take a stick of it and slice it with a butcher knife as thick as you wanted, slap it on two pieces of loaf bread or crackers and then Daddy would douse it with hot sauce. That was his favorite and mine, too. I was like Daddy. Margaret liked cheese on crackers, her favorite.

  We would pick up soft drink bottles on the side of the road and take them to the store and sell them. The store was a small building with a porch. People would always sit on it and pass the time. In the winter or rainy days they would sit inside around a wood stove. Ethel’s husband would bottom chairs with strips of tree bark or grass strings. Sometimes he would weave broom straw together and make straw brooms. Sweet Water may have not been much to a lot of people but to us that grew up there, it was an interesting place.

  That day, Daddy sent us to Ethel’s to get a pound of bologna, half pound of cheese, a loaf of bread, and drinks. Margaret and I took the path through the woods, which was shortest through the old Vernon Hensley place. Margaret and I walked along the dirt road barefoot. It was still early autumn and we still had a little summer like weather. I recall stopping in the road and patting my foot in the dust and it would shoot up between my toes. Our feet were covered with dust, plum up to our ankles. Miss Maggie stayed home with Daddy. He loved to squirrel and rabbit hunt, and so did Miss Maggie. Daddy has said he and Miss Maggie might try their luck that day. We made our way to Ethel’s and got our things. But on the way back we decided to stop off at the spring house and get us a cold drink of water from the old underground spring that fed into the spring house.

  It was a beautiful lazy “Indian summer day,” as the old folks called it. The workers in the fields were harvesting their crops. The trees were ablaze with fiery colors. The wind was warm, but yet with a touch of coolness about it. As we neared the spring house, we saw a couple of deer drinking from the outside pool of water from the spring. About the shed there were a couple of squirrels playing in the top of some nearby trees. Daddy should have been here. The shed was made out of lumber. It was weathered from the years of old. There was one door and two small windows with a rusty tin roof nearly covered with fallen leaves. Inside there was a wooden floor. In some places the floor was dirt and other places it was wood. There was also a boxed in well which housed the incoming water from the underground spring into a pool. The water was cold, I remember that day, and it kept a slow stir with it. The incoming water moved slowly in, causing the pool to stir. There was an overflow pipe that ran out of the shed where the animals drank. There was an old wood tool closet inside where they kept tools or storage stuff. Above the tool closet was some shelving. Margaret and I used to come here and play. But on this day that we stopped off to play, and get a cold drink of water. It would be our last time for the rest of our lives.

  It happened that day that Margaret and I were playing around the shed, throwing up leaves, covering ourselves, rolling on the ground, laughing, and having fun. We suddenly stopped when we heard a car coming up the old log road. We both thought it was strange. We had never seen anyone there before. Quickly, we panicked, looking for a place to hide. From the sound of the car, it sounded close. Running through the woods, we’d surely be seen. So we went into the shed, got inside the tool closet and closed the door. Then suddenly, the car pulled up in front of the shed. In a few moments we heard talking and laughing. We couldn’t see a thing, but we could hear them. It sounded like t
wo boys and a girl. We were scared to death. We were so scared we were frozen, couldn’t move, except our eyes. Then we heard another voice. It was three boys and I knew they were drinking because I heard them ask another boy to toss him a beer. I started to say something to Margaret but before I could she put her hands over my mouth, afraid it might give us away. After that I didn’t say a word. In a few minutes, they left the car and headed for the shed. We could hear them talking but it didn’t sound good. The girl was already drunk from her slurred speech and falling about. She could hardly stand up. The boys laughed at her and poked fun, trying to smooch on her. As they made their way into the shed, we sat scared for our lives. Human instinct told Margaret and me it was not good, something bad was going to happen. We could see them pretty good through the cracks in the door of the closet, but the way the light from the outside came in, I didn’t believe they could see us. The tool shed was shaded. Two of the boys we knew. We had seen them around before. We didn’t know their names until they gave it away in their conversation. There were three white boys and one white girl. The leader the main boy’s name was Larry Wayne. The other boys were Danny Lee and Roger Dale. The girl’s name was Betty Sue. We didn’t know her. We had never seen her before. As they talked things started to get out of hand. It was beginning to get rough. They started passing her around to each other.

  As we were humped down in the tool closet, Margaret felt something crawling across her feet. I quickly looked down and so did Margaret. There we saw a big rat crawling over her feet. We quickly gasped for breath of air, afraid to make a sound, afraid we’d get caught.

  Then suddenly Danny Lee said, “Did you hear that?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” said the other boy. “You’re just paranoid.”

  “Back off,” replied Roger Dale.

  “Both of you shut up,” cried out Larry Wayne.

  Then suddenly Larry Wayne grabbed her by the hair of the head and jerked her around. At the same time Margaret quickly placed her hands over my eyes and placed my head against her chest. I didn’t know what was happening. We were so afraid, afraid of getting caught and for the girl. As Margaret watched, she held me tighter and tighter to her. Larry Wayne then jerked off her blouse. I could hear the clothes tearing. Margaret had begun to cry because I felt her teardrops hit the top to my head. Then Larry Wayne knocked her to the floor as one boy held her feet and legs down the other held her hands over her head and each of them had their way with her. I might not have seen what was happening, but I could make it out by the sound of it. The girl began to scream and fight back, but it didn’t do any good. The boys were too strong. They slapped her and hit her with their fist. But she couldn’t get free. She cried out for help, but we were so afraid we couldn’t do anything. I was so afraid, I wet in my pants. Luckily, the boys were so preoccupied with her they paid us no never mind. If they would have found us, we too may have gotten killed. She fought to get away, she suddenly turned her head toward us. Margaret slipped her hands from my eyes, I quickly looked up at Margaret. She had placed her hands over her mouth to stop from screaming. I turned again, Margaret and the girl’s eyes met. I never forgot the expression on the girl’s face. She must have somehow got a glimpse of Margaret through the cracks of the tool shed door. Then in a few minutes Larry Wayne grabbed a rock near him and struck her in the head three times. Blood splattered the inside shed. The girl was dead. Her half nude body lay motionless with her eyes still open. I quickly turned and buried my face in Margaret’s chest. I held back my tears and so did Margaret, afraid we’d get caught. Two of the boys carried her to the outside. Larry Wayne walked over to the corner across form us and took a leak. I heard one of them say to get the shovel out of the car. Luckily they had a shovel.

  Then the boy who was getting the shovel said, “We forgot the damn thing.”

  “I thought you put it in the car.”

  “No,” the other boy replied. “You were supposed to get it. What are we going to do now?”

  Chills ran down our spines as we just knew they would look in the shed.

  We began to pray, “Oh, my God, please…….”

  About then Larry Wayne yelled from the inside, “I’ve got one. There’s one in here leaning against the wall.”

  Then Larry Wayne grabbed the shovel and headed outside. “Thank you, Lord” was all we had the strength to whisper. Tears filled our eyes at what we had witnessed. Our bodies trembled as we tried to hold on and not get caught. As we quietly waited, we could hear them digging the hole. Two of the boys were arguing over who was going to dig it. Larry Wayne stepped in and told them to keep their damn mouths shut and take turns. He stood and watched while he smoked his cigarettes. We were praying they would hurry up and leave. Finally, they dug a shallow grave and placed her in it and covered her up. Roger Dale slung the shovel over in the woods. You could hear it as it hit a tree and bounced. Then we heard the car crank and they quickly turned around, driving off as Margaret and I busted out of the shed and headed home.

  We ran as hard as we could for home. We stopped and looked back. It looked like the boy in the backseat had turned around and looked out of the back window. Then all of a sudden the car slid into a stop. As they got out and looked back Margaret and I hugged the ground, not to be seen. They must have thought they saw something, because they got into the car and left. We tore out for home. But before we got home Margaret stopped me and made me swear not to tell Daddy.

  “Those boys are evil white boys and if they know we saw them they may try to kill us like that girl. Willy you got to keep quiet,” she demanded. “Don’t say a word. You promise?”

  “But, Margaret,” I replied.

  “You promise?” she questioned me.

  “I’ll try,” I replied. “I’ll do my best.”

  “It’s for our own good,” she said. “You know how white people are toward Negroes.”

  When we got back home, Daddy hadn’t got back yet. I didn’t have a whole lot to say and neither did Margaret. We stayed close together, not letting each other out of sight. Later in the evening, Daddy and Miss Maggie came home. We went ahead doing our chores, but looking over our shoulders thinking they may have seen us running through the woods. Daddy kept asking us if everything was alright.

  “You two are awfully quiet,” he stated. “Has the cat got your tongue?”

  We kinda grinned and went on our way. He could sense something but couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “Poot,” he said, “did something happen today at Ethel’s?”

  “No, sir,” I replied.

  “Will, what’s wrong? Y’all seem to be preoccupied.”

  “Nothing, Daddy,” replied Margaret.

  “Now, Punkin,” he said. “Don’t tell me that.”

  “But Daddy,” she replied.

  “Oh okay, girl, I’ll wait until you want to tell me when you get ready. Poot, do you want to help me clean the squirrels?”

  I looked over to Margaret and she motioned for me to go on.

  “I guess so,” I said.

  I held the hind legs of the squirrel and Daddy started cleaning it. I held it for a minute or two and then took off, throwing up. I couldn’t handle it. Daddy put the squirrel down and came over to me. I was shaking and crying.

  “Daddy, don’t let them get me,” I cried.

  “Who get you, son?” Daddy replied. “What are you talking about? Come on Willie, you can tell me.”

  Then Margaret came up and we all sat as we told him what had happened. Daddy reached forth and grabbed us both in his arms.

  “Oh my God,” he cried, “oh my God.”

  We all started to cry. Daddy would look up from time to time but he didn’t say anything.

  “Do you think they saw you?” he asked.

  Margaret replied, “I don’t think so or they would have come after us. What are we going to do? I don’t want th
em to hurt you, me, or Poot.”

  “Give me a little time to think about it,” he replied. “Whatever y’all do, stay close to the house.”

  I reached down and grabbed Miss Maggie and told Daddy that she would protect us. A little while later Daddy called us in for supper. After the blessing he said, “Tomorrow we’ll go into town and tell the sheriff.”

  “But Daddy,” Margaret cried. “They’ll get us.”

  “No, they won’t,” he assured us. “It’s the sheriff’s problem. Let him handle it.”

  “But Daddy,” she cried.

  “That’s enough,” he said. “My mind is made up.”

  Then Margaret quickly jumped up from the table and went to her room.

  “Poot,” he said, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  He dropped his fork in his plate and took off to Margaret’s room.

  “Well Lord, I don’t know. What do I need to do?” he said out loud.

  There was no answer.

  As night fell heavy, Daddy sat watch. He didn’t know if anything would happen or not. But, he wanted to be ready. Maggie lay at his feet and a shotgun lay in his arms while Margaret and I lay in her bed trying to get away from the awful scene in our minds. About one-thirty, I guess it was, Margaret and I had fallen asleep. About two forty five, Margaret woke up with a terrifying scream, crying out and fighting in the bed. I quickly jumped up and started to cry as Daddy leaped up out of his chair and ran over to us. While Maggie barked and paced the floor, Margaret fought against Daddy.

  He cried out, “Baby, it’s me, Daddy. Calm down, girl, it’s me. Everything will be alright.” Finally she fell out into his arms with tears in his eyes he cried out, “Lord, please help us.”

  I then quickly ran to him crying also, “Daddy, Daddy,” I cried.

  He reached over and grabbed me and hugged me, too. As he laid us back down in the bed Maggie jumped up in the bed also and laid her head in Margaret’s lap.

  “Are we going to be alright?” I asked him.

  “Sure,” he replied.

  “It’s all a bad dream now,” he said.

  “But will we wake up to a brighter day tomorrow?” I asked.

  “Maybe tomorrow,” he replied.

  He then picked his gun up and rested it in his arms. As the day broke, the light of it laid hopeful promises as the sun slowly rose over the hill and hollows.

  “A new day,” said Daddy, “with a day of new hope.”

  No one had much to say that morning, even about last night. Everything was quiet, even Maggie. Daddy fixed us a bite of breakfast, but no one seemed to be hungry. I guess everyone was dreading the worse. We all loaded up in Daddy’s truck, with Maggie in the back, and headed into town.

  Margaret turned to him and said, “Daddy, I know you’re doing the right thing. But I’m scared. I miss Mama so.”

  “I know you do,” he said. “I miss her too.”

  “Daddy,” she said. “What’s going to happen when a Negro girl testifies against three white boys for murder?”

  “I don’t know, baby girl,” he replied. “But all that matters is to do the right thing and the Lord will watch over us. Besides the white girl that got killed, you may be the way the Lord has to help bring justice for her. I trust in the Lord, that if you’re in the right, he will be there for us.”

  As we pulled up in front of the police station, Daddy started to get out. Margaret and I just sat there.

  “Now come on,” he coached us. “Let’s go and do what we need to do.” Slowly we got out. I took one of his hands and Margaret took the other.

  “You know Punkin,” he said, “talking about your Mama, girl she would be real proud of you.”

  “What about me, Daddy?” I asked.

  “And you too, Poot. She would be real proud of you both.”

  As we made our way in, I couldn’t help from noticing the looks on the white people’s faces. I’m sure Daddy saw it, too, but he held his head and shoulder back and asked to speak to the sheriff. One old white woman sitting there reached down by her feet and picked up her pocket book, and sat it in her lap and folded her arms across the top of it.

  “It will be just a minute, Mr. Hornsby.”

  Then the telephone rang and he answered.

  “Thank you, deputy,” Daddy replied.

  We took a seat across from the old woman and her son. He walked over to me and started to talk. Then suddenly his mother got up, took him by the hand, and walked out the door. In a few minutes the deputy told us we could go in. It had been a while since Daddy had seen the sheriff. His name was Paul Louis. He and Daddy used to coon hunt together when they were growing up. The sheriff didn’t live far from Daddy back then. I remember Daddy talking about it.

  “Well what have we here, Coondog,” he said. “Why I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age!”

  “Glad to see you again, sheriff.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to say that,” he replied. “It’s still Paul.”

  Then we took a seat and sat down. Margaret and Poot told him the situation of what had happened. He listened.

  “That’s the strangest thing. I was talking to Miss Bennett and she told me her daughter, Betty Sue, didn’t come home last night.

  “Daddy, I believe that was the girl’s name,” Margaret said. “I remember now they called her Betty Sue.”

  The sheriff sat for a few minutes and then he spoke. “Coondog you know as well as I do about Margaret testifying.”

  “I know what you’re saying,” answered back Daddy. “But Paul, we have to do what is right and let the judge take care of it.”

  “I know, but it may get hard on her. Are you willing to take that chance?” he asked. “I will do everything is my power to protect y’all. You know that.”

  “I know you will,” Daddy replied.

  “Alright,” Paul said. “Let’s hear what the children have to say.”

  Margaret and I told the sheriff exactly what had happened. It was definitely enough to open an investigation and bring the boys in for questioning.

  “I would like for the children to meet us up at Vernon Hensley’s old place,” requested Paul. “If it would be alright and go back over everything once more. There may be something they’ll remember that they forgot. I want a strong case against these boys. I want to put them away to they will never hurt anyone else.”

  Daddy asked us if we thought we could do that.

  We both replied, “Yes, sir.”

  As we were leaving the police station a team of officers were on their way to Vernon Hensley’s old place. We followed but first we were going to stop off at Ethel’s and get us a cold drink and candy, Daddy’s treat because he was proud of us for being so brave. By the time we reached Hensley’s place Margaret had told Daddy that she was feeling a little better about it now. She told him that she thought she had done the right thing and that the sheriff, she believed, was a good man. I remember something Daddy said one time about it all. That it may take a long time to overcome what we saw that day but in time it will soon pass, to just make the best of it if we can. And that’s what Margaret and I did.

  When we arrived at the Hensley’s place the police were already setting up to investigate the crime scene. They found the blood splattered inside the shed, the shovel, and the shallow grave. They collected some of the beer cans for possible fingerprints, along with the shovel and tire prints of the car. Paul asked Margaret and me to take our time and tell him exactly what we saw. Margaret and I went back over everything again leaving nothing undone. In a few minutes, they brought out her body.

  “It’s Betty Sue,” said Paul.

  The coroner took her for further examination. About that time Margaret and I turned toward Daddy and we buried our faces in his side.

  “You can take the children home, Coondog,” said Paul. “They’ve seen enough.”

  A deputy ran from inside the shed
screaming, “Sheriff, we found the rock and it’s got blood on it!”

  It didn’t take long for the sheriff to wind up the crime scene. The other deputies had picked up the suspect. It was pretty obvious the other two boys with Larry Wayne were Roger Dale and Danny Lee. The three boys had a list of troubles with the law. It was not a big surprise to Paul. They were picked up and brought in. The next few hours were crucial for the sheriff to build his case. The eye witness had been kept a secret since she was a minor.

  Life went on for us. Daddy raised tobacco and corn. It was that time of year when his tobacco laid cut and piled in the field. He and some men were hauling it in and putting it in the barn to cure, to get it ready to strip and sell. The corn had all but been picked. It lay in the crib. We stayed close to home during that time. About the only time we left was to go to church on Sunday. I remember that first Sunday when we heard they had charged the boys with rape and murder and that bail had been denied. Daddy came home and fixed a big pot of chitterlings. He had washed and cleaned them five or six times Saturday and still had to clean them on Sunday. Daddy couldn’t clean and fix them like Mama could. And you talk about stinking the high heavens up, he did with those chitterlings. When he cleaned them he had two buckets, bad stuff in one bucket and the good ones in the other bucket. Then he would put the good ones in a pot of boiling water and they were on their way. Also that day of the celebration, the sheriff came by. Daddy offered him some chitterlings, but he quickly turned him down.

  “I just wanted to come by and see how y’all were doing,” said Paul, “especially the children.”

  I heard Daddy tell him that we were doing alright and that we still had dreams and we still woke up in the night but we were doing as well as expected.

  “That’s good,” replied Paul. “The girl was Betty Sue Bennett. She too was something from what I found out. She was two months pregnant. It was probably one of the boys and they were trying to get out of it and took it too far.”

  “Where was the girl from?” Daddy asked. “From around here?”

  “She was from Horace Hill,” replied Paul, “the other side of town.”

  “Yeah, I know the place,” Daddy spoke up.

  “Her mother is dead. She has been dead about five or six years. She lived with her stepfather who drank, molested, and abused her they say. He may have been the father of her child from what I hear. Her dad had left them when she was two years old and about a year later her mother remarried.”

  “That’s a shame,” replied Daddy. “What about her stepfather?”

  “I don’t know. He had left a couple months back but no one has seen him since. The boys had been drinking that day and they picked Betty Sue up at the Blue-Tic-Hound Bar and Grill over on Highway 109. The D.A. is really pushing it. He’s going after the death penalty. Jury selection starts in two weeks,” he said. “Well, I’ve got to get back to the office. I’ll talk to you later, Coondog.”

  “I’ll see you, Paul and thanks for everything,” Daddy replied.

  Margaret and I waved bye. That afternoon it rained as Margaret and I looked out the window. A bad storm had hit with heavy rain and driving winds. Nearby you could hear a haunting cry of the lightning and thunder as it pressed down upon us. It continued throughout the night. About eleven thirty that night the darkness was divided by the taunting sound of sirens and lights from toward town. Something had happened, but what? Suddenly the phone rang.

  I answered, “Hello … Daddy, its Sheriff Louis.”

  Daddy quickly took the phone.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “There has been a jail break. Larry Wayne and the other two boys have overpowered a jailer and have escaped through the boiler room. They are considered armed and dangerous. I’m going to send two deputies out there. Stay in the house. We’re going to get them, Coondog. They can’t get far,” assured Paul

  “Okay,” Daddy replied. “Thanks, Paul, for calling. We’ll be careful.”

  “”What is it, Daddy?” we both asked in unison.

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” he replied. “It’s nothing for you two to worry about. Paul is going to take care of it.”

  “Daddy,” spoke up Margaret.

  “Yes, Punkin.”

  “They broke out of jail didn’t they?” she questioned.

  He then took us in his arms and said, “Yes they have.”

  As she became uneasy, tears filled her eyes.

  “Hush, Punkin. Everything is going to be fine. Paul is going to catch them. You’ll be alright.”

  “Daddy, I’m scared,” cried Margaret.

  “Me, too,” I said as I hugged Daddy’s neck tight.

  “Let’s cut the lights down,” he warned.

  “What about Maggie,” I asked.

  “She’s outside,” he replied. “She’ll make a good watchdog for us.”

  In the meantime, I found out that Larry Wayne and the other two boys had escaped and split up. Danny Lee had hotwired a car and was headed for the Tennessee state line. Larry Wayne had something to take care of and planned to meet Roger Dale at the tunnel. It was about one thirty in the morning when suddenly Douglas Rutherford, the DA, awoke from his sleep. It was the phone. It was from the Sheriff. He told him about the escape. Then he heard something across the room as he turned on the light. He rose up in his bed to see what it was. He knew it couldn’t be his wife, for she was out of town helping take care of her mother, unless she decided to come back early. As the light filled the room he looked across the bedroom.

  “What the hell?” he cried out.

  There sat Larry Wayne in a chair beside his bed. Quickly, the DA jumped up.

  “How did you get in here?” he asked. “The police are looking for you,” he stated. “I thought you would be long gone by now.”

  “Well, I’m not,” replied Larry Wayne, “which is why I’m here. What about our deal? I’ve kept my end and I want to know about you.”

  “I’m working on it,” assured the DA. “It’s going to take a little time. We have to be careful.”

  “Time, I don’t have much of it right now. I took care of the girl for you,” said Larry Wayne, “before your wife found out about her and the baby. In return you were going to get Danny, Roger, and me off on these other pending charges if we did you a little favor, plus get us off over Betty Sue. Now they are crying for the death penalty. How do you think I feel?”

  “I am, I am,” cried the DA. “I’ll take care of it. You haven’t told Danny or Roger, or anyone else about the deal have you?”

  “No I haven’t,” replied Larry Wayne. “It’s between you and me.”

  “That’s good,” he said. “Keep it between us.”

  As the thunder roared, the lightning flashed down on the town. In the DA’s bedroom window a silhouette accented his wall. His shadow and Larry Wayne stood there and the silhouette of a handgun was pointing at the DA’s head.

  “There is one, maybe two or three bullets in the chamber, leaving three empty,” he stated. “How lucky do you think you are?” asked Larry Wayne.

  The DA never said a word.

  “Our deal meant a lot to me,” he said, “especially my part of being a free man. I wonder just how important is your part to you.”

  Then he pulled the trigger back and slowly squeezed the trigger. Click went the trigger in the empty chamber.

  “I have killed one already,” boasted Larry Wayne. “One more won’t matter.”

  The DA stood trembling as sweat lay across his brow.

  “Larry Wayne don’t do this,” he cried. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll get right on it. Please….”

  Larry Wayne slowly pulled the trigger again. The trigger released the hammer into the chamber. Click, sounded the gun. The chamber was empty. Then Larry Wayne started to laugh as he pulled the gun away.

  “You’re lucky,” he said, “two times a winner, the third a lose
r.”

  The DA quickly sat down on the edge of his bed in relief.

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Rutherford, your secret is good with me unless you try something. I want you to know how serious I take our deal and my freedom.”

  Meanwhile, across the state line in Tennessee, Danny Lee’s car had run out of gas and he was in the process of stealing another car when a state trooper and other police officers moved in on him. In trying to get away he opened fire and was shot and killed. Roger Dale had laid in wait for Larry Wayne at the tunnel. While Larry Wayne was on his way to meet with Roger, he had one more stop. Around three o’clock that morning he arrived at our house. There was a patrol car parked outside. Evidently he didn’t see the officers. About then Maggie started to bark. Daddy stood to his feet and ran to the door. Margaret and I huddled close together as the officer met Daddy on the porch.

  “What is it Maggie,” said Daddy.

  Maggie kept barking.

  “She must have heard something,” said one of the officers.

  “Someone is out there,” replied Daddy.

  About then Maggie charged into the woods barking. In a few minutes, we heard a shot and Maggie squalling, and then it was silent. Carefully, Daddy and the officers moved toward the woods. Daddy shot twice in the air with his shotgun.

  “Hold on, Coondog,” said one of the officers. “Wait here for us.”

  Quickly Daddy reloaded and waited.

  As the officers moved in the woods, everything got quiet. Margaret and I had stepped out onto the porch. Daddy looked back and saw us and told us to wait there. The officers searched the area with flashlights. In a few minutes one of them yelled.

  “Over here.”

  Daddy took off into the woods. As he made his way to them he found Maggie dead.

  “I’m sorry, Coondog,” said the officer.

  Then the other officer made the statement, “Whoever it was is probably gone by now. I’ll call it in.”

  Quickly Daddy reached down and picked up Maggie in his arms and took her back to the barn. As Daddy walked out of the woods toward the barn, we ran over to him and started to cry. He placed Maggie down on the ground.

  “We’ll bury her in the morning,” he said as we cried and held onto him.

  “Daddy is it ever going to stop?” cried Margaret. “I wish we had never stopped at that old spring house.”

  “Everything will be alright,” replied Daddy. “We are going through a bad time, but we have had bad times before and got through them.”

  Then I looked up at him and said, “Like when Mama died.”

  Then he reached down and picked me up and took Margaret by the hand and took us into the house. When morning broke, it met the day. There was one inmate dead and two still at large. The burial of Maggie was hard to let go. Daddy said some words over her and we placed wildflowers on her grave. We buried her at the edge of the woods and yard not far from the barn. As the day soon passed it seemed like Larry Wayne and Roger Dale had vanished off the face of the earth. Patrol cars searched the county over. But, Sheriff Louis was not quite sure of that. He believed they were still close by. He believed they were hiding out, but where?

  Not far out of town was Arlene’s. She ran a house of ill repute named the Glass House. Arlene McKinney was the madam. She had moved there about fifteen years ago. She was brought in by some high prestige officials. They had partnership in the business. The house was remodeled when she took it over. It was an old colonial mansion. The front of it was glassed in with import windows from Spain. The grounds about it were filled with beautiful gardens. The house itself had twenty-eight rooms, not counting the parlor and kitchen. Arlene worked young college girls from Kentucky and neighboring states. They were protected by the secret unknown officials. The girls came from everywhere to pick up some fast and easy money. A lot of them worked in the summer, others the weekends. There was always a fresh turnabout. There were plenty of girls wanting in on the action. Money talked. The house was off Highway 52 on US Junction 9 where three states met: Kentucky, Tennessee, and Missouri. They called it “The Point.”

  Betty Sue had worked there on and off until she got pregnant. Arlene let her go until after she had the baby.

  There is a story about an old fort that stood where the house is today. Historians believed that in the 1700’s a group of settlers built the fort. The settlers had dug a tunnel from under it to the river’s edge to bring in supplies from off the ship. After several Indian attacks, disease and hardship, the settlers died out or moved on. The fort stood empty for years. Then one night a storm hit and lightning struck the fort and burned it down. As time passed, the tunnel had collapsed in some places. Then in the early 1930’s a rich Kentucky Colonel bought the place and built the old colonial mansion there. He built it from the bottom up, as it is today. He reworked the tunnel and planted beautiful Victorian gardens about it. It was also said that through the years that the rising of the river washed out a cave in the banks that opened the entrance to the tunnel. The rich Kentucky colonel rumor has it that he was Arlene’s and Betty Sue’s mother’s grandfather. That was only a rumor; it was never official. When he died, Arlene took the house over with the help of some of her granddaddy’s friends. The tunnel was used to bring in the young girls and high profile clients into the house. From a trapdoor in the basement you had easy access to the house of sin.

  A couple of days later Sheriff Louis received a tip that Larry Wayne and Roger Dale had been seen at Arlene’s. So he waited until nearly dark and sent some men in the front door with a warrant and a team of officers at the mouth of the tunnel. As the officers searched the house, Larry Wayne and Roger left out through the tunnel. But as they neared the mouth of the cave, they were surrounded by Sheriff Louis and his deputies. Then all of a sudden Roger panicked and started shooting. Quickly, the sheriff and his men took cover in the tall grass, returning the fire. Then in minutes it seemed Roger had been hit.

  Larry yelled out, “I’m coming out. Don’t shoot.”

  “Throw down your gun!” cried the sheriff.

  Roger lay on the ground bleeding. Larry Wayne threw out his gun and walked out with his hands up in the air. Quickly, they cuffed him and called for an ambulance to take Roger Dale to the hospital. Roger died on the way. Larry Wayne remained locked up away from the population. He stayed in a solitary cell until his trial.

  Word of the capture and death of the convicts spread quickly. Sheriff Louis went by and told Coondog. They were all relieved. The sheriff told him that there was no need to worry.

  “Larry Wayne will not escape from where he is now,” he stated.

  Arlene was never charged with harboring a fugitive. Her friend took care of that. Back at the jail Larry Wayne was yelling, “I want to talk to the DA!” But, no one paid him any mind.

  Then after the sheriff got back to his office, the jailer said, “He wants to talk to the DA.”

  So then Sheriff Louis went back to Larry’s cell. “What’s the problem now?” asked the sheriff.

  “I don’t have no problem,” he responded. “I want to talk with the DA, Mr. Douglas Rutherford.”

  “Now why do you want to talk to him for, to cut a deal?” replied the sheriff.

  “Tell him I said to come and see me or else.”

  “It’s late right now,” replied the sheriff. “I’ll tell him in the morning.”

  “You better,” cried out Larry Wayne. “I’ve got a secret, sheriff.”

  “I bet you have,” laughed Paul.

  The night was quiet for a change. The sky was filled with stars and clear. There was a peace, or rest it seemed like, over the town.

  Early the next morning, the sheriff ran into the DA. He told him that Larry Wayne wanted to see him. He just laughed it off.

  “If I get the time,” he replied, “I’ll try to stop by.”

  Several days passed and Larry Wayne was still crying
out to see the DA. Either he hadn’t had time or he was avoiding him. The jailer told him to hush it up. Then finally, the DA stopped by.

  “What can I do for you, Larry Wayne?” he asked.

  “Oh, you’re trying to be a smart ass,” said Larry. “What the hell do you think I want?”

  “I don’t know,” the DA replied. “I have no idea.”

  “Have you forgot about our little deal and your favor?” asked Larry.

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t try to play stupid with me,” cried out Larry Wayne as he reached through the bars to grab the DA. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The judge would be glad to know what I know. Then you’d be behind these bars with me and then I’d kill you,” he threatened.

  “Now, now, Larry Wayne, well I’ve got to go,” he said. “I don’t believe we have anything else to talk about.”

  As the DA turned to leave, Larry Wayne spit on him and called him a son-of-a-bitch. Then the DA turned a bit and said to him, “It’s my word against yours. Now, who do you think they will believe?”

  “We’ll see, Mr. big shot DA man. We’ll see!” screamed Larry Wayne.”

  The DA never saw Larry again until the trial. The court had appointed Larry Wayne a public defender. Her name was Shelly Bean. She had only been out of law school for about three years and didn’t have much courtroom experience. She talked to Larry Wayne several times, getting the case together. Taking into consideration the evidence, two eyewitnesses, and his previous record it didn’t look very good. All he wanted was to take the stand. His attorney didn’t feel like that was a good idea considering his case, anger issues, and hostility.

  Weeks passed and the jury was finally selected. The state wanted the death penalty and the defense was hoping for life without the possibility of parole. The trial lay ahead.

  Things had settled down around home, too.

  “Within a few days it will all be over with,” encouraged Daddy, “and then we can go on with our lives.”

  Margaret had made her way to Mama’s graveside several times in the last few weeks. She missed Mama. We all did. Daddy was strong for us in ways, but there were the times Mama bared the test. I guess Mamas are like that. They could fill in the blanks when no one else could. The day that Margaret went to visit Mama, I went with her and stood far off. I knew she wanted to talk to Mama alone. She told Mama she loved her and missed her and wished she was here for us all. Tears filled her eyes and she started to cry.

  “Mama, I am so afraid I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to testify against a white man or anyone else. Why, Mama, did we have to see it? Why couldn’t we have gone the other way? Mama,” she cried out, “it’s not fair!”

  As she broke down, she laid her head upon the grave and wept. In a few minutes, I went to her and took her by the hand.

  “It’s time to go,” I said.

  She stood up without saying a word except to say bye to Mama. As we made our way home, we were both quiet. Then we looked up and saw a rainbow in the sky. We smiled and looked at one another and headed home. There had been several rumors about two Negroes testifying against a white man, even if it was Larry Wayne. That didn’t seem to set well with some of the townspeople. There were some who didn’t like it and others who saw no harm. They hoped Larry Wayne would finally get what was coming to him. There was one rumor that someone was going to jump Daddy. But, it was only a rumor.

  Finally, the dreaded day had come. The officers escorted Larry Wayne to the courthouse. When Larry saw us he stopped dead in his tracks and stood looking at Margaret. Then Daddy stepped up beside her and stared at Larry Wayne. The officers nudged him to go on as Larry never said a word. Then he stopped again and started laughing out loud. Daddy stepped as if to dare him to make a move. But Larry Wayne didn’t. Then the officer escorted him on into the courthouse. The people outside didn’t say a word. They kept their distance from us. The courtroom was packed. We had to go into the balcony to sit. That was where Negroes sat.

  About that time the bailiff said, “All rise. The commonwealth state of Kentucky versus Larry Wayne Byers is now in session with Honorable Judge Sawyer Woodard presiding. Are the defense and prosecution ready?”

  “Yes, your honor,” they stated.

  “You may go ahead, prosecutor,” said the judge, “with your opening remarks.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the state has enough evidence and an eyewitness who actually saw Mr. Byers commit this horrible vicious crime. We also have witnesses who saw Mr. Byers, Danny Lee, and Roger Dale with the victim last. We are going to prove without a shadow of a doubt that the vicious murder of Betty Sue Bennett was willfully done, staged, and carried out by the hand of Larry Wayne Byers. That’s all, your honor.”

  Then the defense took the floor.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask that you will listen to the trial, weigh the evidence, and the testimony before you reach a decision. The victim, Miss Betty Sue Bennett was real popular around town. She had many men friends. She worked at Arlene’s part-time. There could have been others who could have murdered her. My client was one of her clients, along with his two friends, Danny Lee Lyles and Roger Dale Browning. She had friends and enemies. The Negro witness holds the key to the murder. Could she be wrong or mistaken? She’s just a child, a Negro child. That’s all, your honor.”

  “You can call your first witness, Mr. Rutherford.”

  “Your honor I call Raymond Jones to the stand.”

  As the bailiff swore him in, Rutherford looked around the courtroom. When his eyes met with Larry Wayne, Larry Wayne winked at him. Now Mr. Jones, you are the owner of the Blue Tic Hound Bar and Grill.”

  “Yes, sir, I am,” he stated.

  “Tell us, Mr. Jones, what took place the day in question at the restaurant,” asked the DA.

  “Well, sir,” he said, “that day Larry Wayne, Danny Lee, and Roger Dale were all hanging out at the restaurant. They had ordered some food. About the time they finished eating; Betty Sue came in and went over to talk to them. They sat and talked a while before they all got up and left.”

  “Then what?” said Mr. Rutherford.

  “Betty Sue got into the car with them and they left,” he replied.

  “That was the last time you saw her?” asked the DA.

  “Yes sir, the next thing I heard she was dead,” he explained.

  “No more questions,” replied the DA.

  “Miss Bean do you have any question for Mr. Jones,” asked the judge.

  “Only one,” she said. “Did Betty Sue seem to be afraid or threatened by Larry Wayne and the other boys?”

  “No ma’am,” he replied.

  “So you would say that she willfully left with them on her own,” suggested Miss Bean.

  “Yes ma’am,” he said.

  “No further questions,” she said.

  Then the DA got up and addressed the court.

  “Your honor, I would like to put this rock with Larry Wayne’s bloody print on it as state’s Exhibit 1. Also the rock was examined by the state crime lab and there were traces of hair on the rock belonging to Betty Sue Bennett. This shovel, state Exhibit 2, was used to dig her shallow grave near the murder scene with his prints on it. Also, your honor, these plaster tire prints from the crime scene that match his car tires is Exhibit 3. Now I ask you, what was the motive? It’s plain and simple: Betty Sue Bennett was pregnant with Larry Wayne’s child.”

  “I object!” yelled Miss Bean. “Your honor, he is calling for a conclusion. She had been with several men. How can he say it was my client?”

  “Sustained, let the statement be taken off the record. Is the state ready to call its next witness?”

  “I am your honor. I call Margaret Hornsby to the stand.”

  As she made her way to the witness stand you could tell she was
scared. The bailiff swore her in and she took a seat.

  “Now Margaret,” he said, “how old are you?”

  “Twelve,” she replied.

  “Where do you live?” he asked.

  “On Chicken Branch Road,” she replied.

  “Now Margaret, could you tell us and the jury what took place at the spring house that day in question?’

  Slowly she stated what happened and within a few minutes she was finished.

  “Now Margaret do you see in this courtroom the person who took the rock and killed Betty Sue Bennett?”

  She sat a few minutes and looked around the courtroom.

  “Margaret,” he said. “Can you point out the person you saw that day at the spring house?”

  Slowly she raised her hand and pointed toward Larry Wayne.

  “Let the record show she is pointing at Larry Wayne.”

  “Do you have any questions Miss Beans?”

  “Yes, your honor, I have one question. Margaret have you ever told something and thought you had it right but later on it wasn’t exactly like you saw it?”

  “I object, your honor.”

  “No further questions,” replied Miss Bean.

  “Objection sustained. You don’t have to answer that,” explained the judge.

  As she stepped down from the stand she hurriedly walked back to Daddy’s side. He bent down and kissed her on the forehead and hugged her.

  “You did very good,” Daddy said.

  He told her he was proud of her and her Mama would have been, too.

  I reached over and took her other hand and held it tight in mine.

  Then the judge asked the defense, “Do you have any more witnesses at this time?”

  “I do, your honor.”

  Then she called a few charter witnesses to the stand. She appeared like she was killing time, hesitating about something. But we didn’t know what. Finally, she ran out of time.

  “Miss Bean do you have any other witnesses other than friends and relatives of your client?”

  She didn’t want to put Larry Wayne on the stand. She knew it would be over with.

  “Your honor I call Larry Wayne Byers to the stand.”

  Larry Wayne was sworn in and took a seat. He had his day in court. As the old saying goes, every dog will have its day. He pointed fingers and called names.

  The judge spoke up, “Larry Wayne, did anyone else know about this deal between you and the DA?”

  Larry sat a few minutes.

  “Is there anyone that can collaborate your accusations?” questioned the judge.

  He looked at the jury and the DA and said, “Yes.”

  The judge immediately said, “It’s close to lunch. Court is adjourned for lunch. We will reconvene at one o’clock. Counselor Rutherford, I want to see you in my chambers.”

  The judge and the DA went in his chambers and started talking about the situation at hand.

  “Do you think he told anybody?” said the counselor.

  “I don’t know,” said the judge.

  “Who could he have told?” asked the DA.

  “We can’t take a chance with this guy,” said the judge.

  “Do you think he is bluffing?” asked the DA.

  “I don’t know,” replied the judge. “But the looks on the juror’s faces weren’t good.”

  “Let’s offer him a plea bargain, a plea of murder in the second degree and drop the death penalty. Give him eight years with parole in four if he drops this whole charade about the deal.”

  “Do you think he’ll take it?” asked the judge.

  “I don’t know,” replied the DA. “We’ll see. I’ll offer it to him and see what he says. I’ll see you at one.”

  As the DA was leaving, the phone rang. It was the lab with the results of the blood test. The test had for some reason or another came in late. The judge told them he would be right down there. The DA and the judge had their blood tested when they first found out about Betty’s pregnancy to see if either of them was the father. When he arrived at the lab, he found out the results of the test. It so happened that the DA was married to the judge’s daughter. Judge Woodard was the baby’s father. The lab tech, who was a friend of the judge, had helped him several times in the past. The lab tech agreed to swap the judge’s name with the DA’s which would show the DA as the father of the baby. Then he has the results sent to his office after lunch. It cost the judge a substantial amount of money for the cover up. But he was willing to pay it to conceal his name.

  Back at his chambers, before the reconvening, the judge showed the DA the lab results of his test. It showed that the DA was the father of Betty’s baby. The judge told him to trust him that he would try not to let it be presented in court.

  The court reconvened at one o’clock. The public defender asked to approach the bench. She inquired about what was taking so long on the blood test.

  “I just got it at lunch,” the judge said and he handed the results to her.

  Quickly, she looked it over.

  It showed that Larry Wayne was the father of Betty’s baby. As he took it back, he encouraged her that it wouldn’t be very wise for her to address the court with this new evidence. She would not only be cutting Larry Wayne’s throat but her case as well.

  “I guess you’re right, your honor,” she said.

  Little did anyone know, the judge had his friend, the lab tech, fix him a copy of the blood test showing Larry Wayne as the father of the child.

  “Is there anything else, counselor?” said Judge Woodard.

  “No, your honor, the state rests,” replied the DA.

  “No, your honor,” spoke up Miss Bean.

  As the two attorneys stated their closing remarks, the burden of the verdict lay with a jury of twelve of Larry Wayne’s peers. As the jury was out, the DA went over to the jail to see Larry Wayne about the plea bargain they had offered him. It would be less time and a better deal than the original.

  “Is it guaranteed?” asked Larry.

  “Yes, it’s yours if you want it,” replied the DA.

  Larry didn’t mind going to prison for eight years. It was better than the electric chair. Soon word came that the jury had made a decision. As the courtroom filled, the judge entered.

  “All be seated,” said the bailiff.

  “Foreman of the jury, have you reached a verdict?” said the judge.

  “Yes we have, your honor,” he replied.

  “Will the defendant stand and face the jury?” requested the judge. “You may read your verdict.”

  “We the jury find Larry Wayne Byers guilty of murder in the first degree.”

  This stirred the courtroom.

  “Order, order,” yelled the judge. “Larry Wayne Byers you have been found guilty of murder in the first degree. Sentencing will be within a week.”

  Bang went the gavel as the judge dismissed the jury and court.

  The week passed quickly. Larry Wayne took the plea bargain and was sent to the Kentucky State Penitentiary at Stoney Point in Marshall County. About a month later, Larry Wayne got into a fight with another inmate and killed him. It was suspected but no one really knew. As it turns out, the man suspected of killing him was Betty Sue’s stepfather. He had been picked up around the time Betty Sue was murdered for violation of probation. About a year later, they found Larry Wayne stabbed to death in his cell. The killer was never caught.

  It had seemed like a long time since the trial. Time had passed and things were back to normal, if you know what normal is.

  Daddy, Margaret and I like it simple. Daddy liked salt on his raw potatoes, salt in his buttermilk and I like eating raw turnip greens. Margaret, well she liked the girl things.

  Then one day we saw Daddy coming down the road. Margaret and I ran out to meet him. In his arms he held a little puppy, which he gave to us. We both wanted to hold him and make a fuss over him. He reminded me of Maggie in his face. We aske
d what his name was.

  Daddy replied, “I named him Hard Times.”

  We all laughed and I said, “Keep it simple.”