“Thank you, Larry.”
“Five minutes,” Mayor Davidson said. He took a large silver key out of his pocket and handed it to Dr. Griffith. “Then I’m coming down.”
Dr. Griffith hurried down the stairs.
55
WHERE’S MY PA?
I MET DR. GRIFFITH AT THE BOTTOM OF the stairs. He was staring at the empty cell. “You did a good job,” he said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’d really hung himself.” He paused and sniffed the air. “The urine was a nice touch.”
“Emma’s idea,” I said.
Dr. Griffith turned and went back up the stairs. I ran back to my perch on the table to listen.
“Doc’s dead,” Dr. Griffith panted, as if he had run up the stairs two at a time.
“What?” Mayor Davidson turned white.
“Looks like he slit his wrists with an old nail, and when that didn’t work, he stripped the sheet from the bed and hung himself.”
“Oh my God!” Rivulets of sweat began to stream down Mayor Davidson’s fleshy face.
“Is there blood?”
Dr. Griffith nodded. “Lots.”
“Oh.” Mayor Davidson looked like he was gonna be sick.
“Would you go get Mrs. Walker?” asked Dr. Griffith. “I need someone to help me cut Doc down and put him in the coffin.”
“I can do it,” said Mayor Davidson, clearly hoping Dr. Griffith would say no.
Dr. Griffith shook his head. “It’s a messy job. You’ll ruin your suit. There’s no need for that. Best get Mrs. Walker. She’s a nurse and used to this kind of thing.”
Mayor Davidson quickly agreed and ran off.
A minute later, Dr. Griffith joined me in the room with the coffin. I took out the rabbit skin. Some of the blood was still wet, and I helped Dr. Griffith rub it all over his hands and clothes. Finally, we threw the rabbit skin into the coffin, took out the nails and hammer, and Dr. Griffith started to nail the coffin shut.
He was just putting in the last nail when Mrs. Walker, Emma and Mayor Davidson came running. They saw the bloody noose and the open cell and gasped. Mayor Davidson bent over, put his hands on his knees and began to gag.
“How’d you get the body down?” asked Mrs. Walker. “Thought you needed my help.”
“Dit came by early to say goodbye to Doc Haley. He helped me.”
Mrs. Walker took a deep breath. “Has anybody told Elbert?” she asked.
“No,” said Dr. Griffith.
“I’ll go.” Mrs. Walker glanced at the cell once more, then turned and left the room.
Soon as she was gone, a voice cried out from the stairwell. “Why I keep seeing these people running back and forth? I thought the hanging wasn’t scheduled till ten.” Uncle Wiggens hobbled down the steps and caught a glimpse of the cell. “I guess someone decided to have the fun a little early.”
“It was suicide,” said Dr. Griffith grimly.
Uncle Wiggens saw me then and broke into a big grin. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days and gray bristles were popping up all over his face. “Dit!” he cried. “You’ll never believe it. I had the funniest dream about you last night.”
Oh, no.
“I fell asleep and dreamt that I was walking around town without my leg.”
“Without your leg?” asked Mayor Davidson.
“Yes,” said Uncle Wiggens, “in my dreams I never have my peg leg, though I never have my whole leg neither. I just sort of hop around. Wonder why that is? Think I could at least dream about having both legs again. Anyway, I dreamt I ran into Dit, and guess what he was doing?”
“What?” asked Mayor Davidson.
“He was walking around in the dark pushing a—”
At that moment Elbert burst into the room. “Is it true? Is it true?” He glanced in the cell and fell to his knees. Mrs. Walker hurried down the stairs, finally catching up with him. She put a hand on his shoulder.
“Where is he? Where’s my pa?” Elbert wailed.
“We put him in the coffin,” said Dr. Griffith.
Elbert scrambled to his feet. “I want to see him.”
“He’s in no condition to be seen, Elbert,” Dr. Griffith said in the kind, quiet voice he used with patients. “Hanging does terrible things to a man’s body.”
“I don’t care. I want to see him.”
“We’ve already put the nails in the coffin,” I said, cursing myself for not telling him.
“Yes,” Dr. Griffith added. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“What are you fools talking about?” Mrs. Walker cried. “If the boy wants to see his daddy’s body, let him see it!”
Dr. Griffith slowly began to pull out the nails, one by one. I thought desperately. What were we gonna do? I looked at Emma. She shook her head. Then I had an idea.
“Wait a second, Elbert,” I said. Dr. Griffith stopped pulling out the nails. “Why you think your pa killed himself?”
“I don’t know,” said Elbert, his face a stone mask.
“’Cause he didn’t want the whole town to see him dead, hanging at the end of a rope. He didn’t want to die publicly. If you open up his coffin right here letting everybody see, you’re disrespecting his last wishes.”
Elbert thought for a moment. “Dit’s got a point. You all turn around and face the other way. I’ll open the coffin myself. I’m family. I got a right to see.”
Mayor Davidson looked slightly disappointed but also slightly relieved. Dr. Griffith handed Elbert the hammer and we all turned around. I held my breath, praying he would catch on. We should have written him a note or something.
It seemed like it took forever for Elbert to pry up the nails, but it was probably only a couple of minutes. Finally, I heard the last one tinkle to the ground and heard the squeak of the lid as it was lifted up.
“Where’s my pa?” Elbert asked.
I spun around and slammed the lid shut.
“Where’s my pa?” Elbert repeated.
Emma started crying, loud as a baby with colic.
Dr. Griffith shook his head. “This often happens when the body is so badly mutilated. It’s why I didn’t want him to look.”
Elbert was pale as a corpse himself. “Where’s my pa?”
“Your daddy’s moved on to a better place,” said Mrs. Walker kindly. She moved over to embrace him.
“He was a suicide,” said Uncle Wiggens. “Don’t they go to hell?”
Mrs. Walker shot Uncle Wiggens a look.
“It’s a shame he had to endure seeing the body,” Dr. Griffith added.
Emma wailed even louder. Elbert just looked confused. “But where is—” I kicked him in the shins. He gave me a funny look, and then everything clicked into place. “Ohhhhhhh,” he said loudly. “He’s dead.”
“Yes,” Dr. Griffith said. Elbert began to cry big, fake sobs. I started to laugh and had to hide it as a hiccup. Pretty soon Mrs. Walker was crying too, and Dr. Griffith wiped a few tears of relief from his eyes. Even Uncle Wiggens joined in.
Only Mayor Davidson stood by, staring at us like we were a bunch of fools. “We need someone to identify the body for the death certificate,” said Dr. Griffith finally.
“I can do that,” Elbert gasped between fake sobs. “He’s all messed up, but he sure is my pa.”
56
GOODBYE, DOC HALEY
DR. GRIFFITH RAN HOME TO GET HIS PAPERS. Me, Elbert and Dr. Griffith put our names on the death certificate, then Mayor Davidson signed it, making it official. Doc Haley was dead.
We had the funeral two hours later. Just about the entire town showed up. My family was there, of course, and Dr. Griffith, the Walkers and all the folks from the Negra church. Even Mr. Fulton came, wiping his eyes like he forgot he was the one who built the gallows. Only Mrs. Pooley and Uncle Wiggens stayed away, rocking and smoking on her front porch.
Reverend Cannon kept the service short. The women cried a little, then the coffin was buried outside the churchyard in the plot reserved for murd
erers, fallen women and suicides.
Afterwards, me and Emma walked Elbert back to the barbershop. On the way, we passed Uncle Wiggens standing in front of Mrs. Pooley’s front door. “Somebody done broke your window,” we heard him call out.
Me and Emma held our breaths, but Mrs. Pooley only shrugged. “Nothing was missing. Must have been the wind.”
Finally, we reached the barbershop. “So where is he?” Elbert asked.
I smiled. “I heard Jim Dang-It say he was real sorry he couldn’t make it to the funeral.”
“Why don’t you go pay him a visit?” added Emma.
Elbert grinned.
At home, I stripped off my clothes and fell into bed. Just as I put my head down on the pillow, Raymond came in and shook my shoulder. “Why’d I find a bunch of old twine outside your window?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I murmured.
“You didn’t come home last night.”
I looked up. “Raymond, you can’t tell anyone. It’s real, real important.”
“Then you gotta tell me the whole story.”
Raymond’s eyes got wider and wider as I told him what we had done, but he didn’t say a word. Even did my chores for me that day so I could get some rest. Guess my older brother had loved Doc Haley too.
Chip cornered me the next day after church. He knew something was going on, but he couldn’t prove it, least not without admitting he’d been stealing his pa’s keys. I gave him my baseball glove to buy his silence. We agreed to say he’d won it from me in a game of marbles.
Me and Emma went to say goodbye to Doc Haley Sunday afternoon. We found him in Jim Dang-It’s cabin, sitting by the fireplace with Elbert, drinking a cup of coffee. “Guess I was wrong,” Doc Haley said.
“About what?” I asked.
Doc Haley smiled. “’Bout you and Emma being friends.”
They invited us in, and there were hugs and cocoa and lots of mushy stuff like that. I pulled Elbert aside at one point and told him I was sorry I hadn’t told him about the plan.
“Dit,” Elbert said with a laugh. “You saved him. You can stop apologizing.”
Doc Haley left that very night. Jim Dang-It gave him an old dugout canoe so he could paddle up the Black Warrior. When he got to Birmingham, he planned to ditch the canoe and buy a train ticket. Elbert had cleared out their savings, and Doc had just enough. The train would take him all the way up north to his cousin in Chicago. Me and Emma gave Doc our leftover hardtack from the soldiers so he wouldn’t starve even if he didn’t stop to fish or hunt. Around midnight we said our good-byes and Doc Haley paddled off into the darkness. I had the sinking feeling that nothing would ever be as it was before.
57
GOODBYE, ELBERT
I WAS RIGHT. IT WAS ONLY A COUPLE OF days after Doc Haley left that Elbert asked me to come by the barbershop. The shop was nearly empty when I arrived ’cept for a pair of scissors and a couple of bottles of hair tonic packed in a box.
“I’ve decided to leave Moundville,” Elbert said. “There are too many memories here. I’m gonna make a fresh start up north.” He paused. “Least that’s what I’m telling people.”
I nodded. Elbert had acted as the town barber ever since his father was arrested, but everyone could tell his heart wasn’t in it. His haircuts were uneven, and his shaves just about always included a nicked chin.
“I asked your pa to sell the barbershop for me and send the money on after he finds a buyer.”
“Don’t you want to stay and sell it yourself?”
Elbert shook his head. “Mr. Walker loaned me enough money for a ticket. I don’t want to wait any longer.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh,” I said. “That soon.”
“Yeah,” Elbert said. “I’m all packed and ready to go.”
“Oh,” I said again. “Anything I can do for you?”
“No,” said Elbert. “Well, yes. How about going fishing?”
It was my last time fishing with Elbert on the Black Warrior, and we hardly caught a thing. We said even less, but somehow, sitting together in the afternoon sun, listening to the birds, I knew we were finally back to being friends.
Me and Emma met Elbert at the station early the next morning. She had packed a big basket of sandwiches for him so he would have something to eat on the train. Elbert stood on the platform, clutching the one small suitcase that contained all his possessions. His face was pinched. “I don’t have enough,” he burst out when he saw us.
“What?” I asked.
“They raised the ticket price. I’m a dollar-ninety short.” A whistle blew as the train started to pull into the station. “I can’t stay in this town a minute longer,” said Elbert. “I just can’t.” His back was bowed like an old man’s. “I guess I’ll have to get off when my money runs out and hitchhike the rest of the way.” He’d shaved off his new beard, and his naked chin made him look like he wasn’t old enough to cross the street by himself, much less hitchhike to Chicago.
I knew what I had to do, but I didn’t want to do it. I forced my hand into my pocket and pulled out my two dollar bills.
“I can’t take that,” exclaimed Elbert. “That’s your Fourth hunt money.”
“No, it ain’t,” I lied.
“The hunt’s in just a couple of months,” Elbert said. “You been saving all year for it.”
“It ain’t my hunt money,” I insisted. But we all knew that it was.
The whistle sounded again and the conductor called, “All aboard!” I pressed the money into Elbert’s hand. It was a man’s hand, callused from hard work, covered with little cuts from when the scissors had slipped. He whispered, “Thank you,” straightened up his back, and I knew he was gonna be okay. He took the basket from Emma, waved to us both and climbed onto the train.
The engine pulled slowly out of the station. Emma started tapping her toes like she was dancing and I could tell she was about to burst with pride over what I had done, but I didn’t want to hear it. Elbert stuck his head out the window and for a moment, he looked like my old fishing partner again. “I’ll pay you back when I get the money from the barbershop!” he called out.
“Thanks,” I replied, but I knew the money would come too late. Me and Emma waved as the train picked up speed, waved till it had disappeared down the track. I had known Elbert my entire life. I didn’t think I would ever see him again.
Life finally returned to something like normal after Elbert left. We went to school, played ball. At first it was strange seeing Chip with my glove, but pretty soon, I almost forgot it had ever been mine. The first time Emma hit the ball in an actual game, she was so surprised, she dropped the bat and forgot to run. Pearl had to give her a push to get her moving. It should’ve been an easy out, but somehow Emma made it safely to first. She jumped up and down like she’d conquered the world.
But things weren’t normal, though if you had asked me, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you what was wrong. Of course, Doc Haley and Elbert were gone and Buster and Big Foot were dead, but it was more than that. Things were shook up, like leaves falling in the spring and flowers blooming in the winter.
Even skipping stones at the river was different. Emma kept asking me about the Fourth hunt. “You did the right thing giving Elbert your money,” she said. “And you’re good at lots of things besides killing things.”
“I know,” I said.
“So why are you so upset you can’t enter?”
I threw another stone. “It was the only way.”
“The only way to what?”
“You can’t understand.”
“Why not?” demanded Emma.
“Your mama and daddy hang on your every word. There are ten of us.”
“Oh.” She got real quiet then and didn’t say nothing else. So maybe she did understand. Maybe that was why she worked so hard in school. Maybe she knew all the things I didn’t know how to say about making your parents proud,
’cause she worried about them too.
58
THE LETTER
ON THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL, THE OTHER students quickly packed up their belongings and ran out. I took my time and made my way over to Mrs. Seay’s desk. She sure had changed since she’d first arrived in Moundville. Wore a regular work dress most of the time now. Her hair was pulled back in a simple bun. But even without the fancy clothes, she looked just as pretty as before. “Mrs. Seay?”
She looked up. “Yes, Dit?”
“I have something I need to tell you.”
“What is it?” She tugged at the collar of her dress.
I swallowed hard. “I was the one who broke your window. Last summer, before school started. I’m real sorry.” I couldn’t look at her.
“Thank you, Dit.” She paused. “I accept your apology.”
I nodded, still staring at the planks on the floor.
“But I always knew it was you.”
I looked up. “How?”
Mrs. Seay laughed. “There isn’t anyone else in Moundville who’s got your arm.”
“I’d like to pay for it, but . . .”
“You can make it up to me by helping in my garden next fall,” Mrs. Seay said firmly. “Right now, I want you to go home and enjoy your summer.”
I ran all the way from the schoolhouse to the mounds, feeling lighter than I had since Big Foot’s death. Me and Emma were meeting in our cave. It was a lot bigger now after digging out all that dirt for Doc’s coffin. We were gonna make it even better this summer—line the floor with stones and maybe build some three-legged stools so we had some real furniture. But for now, all I wanted was a cool soda and a dip in the river. Maybe, if they were biting, we’d have fish for supper.
I ducked into the cave and grabbed a soda. Emma was already there, clutching a piece of paper.
“What’s that?” I asked, taking a sip of my soda.
The Best Bad Luck I Ever Had Page 18