Dovey Coe

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Dovey Coe Page 11

by Frances O'Roark Dowell


  They never did come to know for certain who killed Parnell. It took the judge all of thirty minutes to find me not guilty after Mr. Harding shown I weren’t strong enough to have killed Parnell with that soda canister. Of course, a lot of folks still suspected me of doing it all the same, saying that it was possible I’d been so filled with passion and rage that I’d found within myself the strength to lift up the canister and knock it over Parnell’s head, or that the cut from my knife was worse than Sheriff Douglas had said.

  A couple weeks after my trial, a man’s body was discovered on the banks of the Watauga River. Sheriff Douglas recognized him as someone who he’d thrown in jail a time or two for loitering around Indian Creek without no apparent business. He was from over in Ashe County, but when his folks come to collect his body to bury it, they said he’d been tramping around for years, getting in all kinds of trouble with the law, and only coming home every once in a while.

  Turns out when Sheriff Douglas was identifying the man, he found a big cut on his right hand. That was reason enough for Judge Young to decide this man was mostly likely the one who done it, the one who killed Parnell. Judge Young closed the file on the case then, saying it was time folks got on with their lives and left the past behind.

  I kept waiting for things to get back to how they used to be, but I started to be of the mind that things done shifted too far out of place for that to ever happen. On the surface of it, you might not have guessed that anything was different. Daddy still picked his guitar and sang his sad old songs, and Mama still wrote down our family history in her book. Caroline went on back to school and wrote us letters bragging on how well she was doing. Me and Amos still ran around on top of Katie’s Knob searching out roots and whatever else proved interesting to us, but the feeling of all them things changed. It was like what happened with Parnell had touched us in a way that we couldn’t shake.

  From the beginning, I had my suspicions about who’d killed Parnell. It seemed right odd to me that Huck was in the store when I come to after Parnell knocked me on the ground. I known he’d been waiting outside for me, but if a stranger had come around, old Huck would have run off. He never took kindly to strangers, as I think I done told you already. The only way Huck would’ve come inside the store was if someone he known had opened the door.

  The way I figured it happened is like this. After supper that night at MeMaw’s, Amos come outside to sit with Tom and Huck and wait for me to come back from our house. Of course, Tom and Huck weren’t there, so he figured they must have taken a notion to run around town to see what was about. When Amos come upon Huck waiting outside of Caraway’s, he decided to look about inside to see if Tom had wandered in there. Maybe Huck had let him know somehow that’s where Tom had gone.

  He come inside the store, Huck on his heels, and started searching around for Tom. He didn’t find him up front, so he headed for the back room, maybe thinking Tom had gotten into some food back there. What he seen then was Parnell standing over me, and me knocked out cold on the ground, maybe even dead. Staying real quiet, Amos searched around him, and his eyes landed on them metal soda canisters lining the wall by the door. He picked one up, Amos being strong enough to lift them things, and knocked Parnell over the head with it.

  I guess once Amos realized he done killed Parnell, he got real scared and run off. I don’t think he reckoned on me getting the blame for doing it. So he ran back to MeMaw’s, where he bandaged up his hand from where he’d cut it lifting up the canister.

  After the trial was over, I went to Amos’s room to have a talk with him. He was sitting on the bed with Huck, staring out the window, when I come in. As soon as he looked at me, I could tell he known I’d figured it out.

  I closed the door behind me and went over to sit next to Amos on the bed. “Amos, I ain’t going to tell anyone what happened,” I said to him. “And I don’t want you telling, neither. If folks was to find out you done it, they’d say you was crazy and put you in a home for crazy people. You wouldn’t ever come out again. You wouldn’t ever see any of us again, and you wouldn’t ever hike up Katie’s Knob another time in your life. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Amos nodded his head, the tears coming to his eyes.

  “You never meant to kill no one—you need to remember that. It was an accident. Promise me you won’t let no one know what happened. Do you promise, Amos?”

  He nodded again, then buried his face in Huck’s fur. I petted him on the back a few times, then went on back to my room, where I lay real still on my bed for the rest of the afternoon. That night after supper, I picked up my book to do some reading, and a note fell from it.

  I thought he was going to kill you Dovey. It was the only thing I could do.

  I took that note over to where we’d buried Tom that morning and scooped out some dirt from the grave. I buried Amos’s note real deep, so no one would ever find it. As for that other note, the one he kept in his pocket during the trial, I suspect it was a confession, though I never did find out for sure. Amos was not the sort of boy to let others take the blame for what he had done, and that’s what had scared me the most through my trial.

  After I buried the note Amos left in my book, I went back inside and washed my hands. Looking at my face in the mirror over the sink, it come to me all the sudden that Amos had probably saved my life. Who knows what Parnell would have done if Amos hadn’t come in when he did. All these years I’d been watching over Amos like he couldn’t take care of himself, and in the end he was the one who took care of me. I swallowed hard when that thought come to me. I known then it was time for me to admit that Amos didn’t need me to be his protector anymore. It was time for me to admit that I’d always needed Amos as much as he’d needed me.

  I only ever told one other person about what happened, though I had my suspicions that Mama known. After Sheriff Douglas testified that there was blood on the soda canister, I seen Mama take a long, hard look at Amos’s hand where he still had a little scar on it from his cut. She never said a thing about it, though, and I heard her telling MeMaw a few weeks later that she was glad Parnell’s killer had shown up in the shape of that man they found drowned in the river.

  Mr. Harding come over to the house for supper a few days after they found me not guilty. He claimed he was up to file some paperwork, but I figured he’d gotten fond of Mama’s cooking and was looking for an opportunity to eat a good meal. When Mama announced supper would be ready in twenty minutes, I asked Mr. Harding if he’d like to take a walk with me up to Katie’s Knob. He said that sounded like a fine idea.

  “You know, Miss Dovey, I’ve always wanted to apologize for my poor performance at the beginning of your trial,” Mr. Harding said as we started out on the path. “I wasn’t very effective, I admit.”

  “You found your way soon enough,” I pointed out to him.

  “In the nick of time, you mean.” Mr. Harding slapped his palm against his forehead. “You know, I’d spent hours pondering that evidence before the trial started. Why it didn’t come to me before that the canister had to be too heavy for you to lift, I have no idea.”

  I shrugged. “It didn’t come to me any earlier, either,” I told him. “I ain’t no lawyer, but usually I got some common sense.”

  Mr. Harding nodded. We walked on in silence for a few moments, enjoying the cool scent of the woods in winter.

  “Well, Miss Dovey, you are a free woman,” Mr. Harding said at last. “How does that feel to you?”

  “It feels mighty fine, Mr. Harding, mighty fine, indeed,” I replied. Then I brought up what I’d been wanting to ask him ever since the trial was over. “I was wondering, though, are you still my lawyer?”

  Mr. Harding give me a curious look, then said, “Why, yes, Miss Dovey, I am. I still have papers to file over at the county courthouse, and until the time I do so, I remain humbly in your service.”

  I hugged myself against the cool breeze coming off the mountain. “I been reading me some law books over at the librar
y, and they say anything I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else. That true?”

  “It certainly is, Miss Dovey. Whatever you say to me, I am bound by law, not to mention honor, to keep confidential. Is there something you wish to share with me?”

  That’s when I told him all I had figured out. After I got done explaining the whole story to him, I asked, “Is there any way someone could point the finger at Amos and get him sent away for killing Parnell?”

  Mr. Harding thought this over for a moment. “I would think if anyone suspected Amos, that person would have spoken up by now. Moreover, Judge Young has closed the file on the case and is quite unlikely to reopen it. I think we have nothing to worry about, Miss Dovey. I believe Amos has every chance for a free and prosperous life.”

  I smiled at him then. All us Coes was excited about the news Caroline had brung with her from teachers college. She had found a book in the library that showed how to do a special sign language for deaf people, and that got her to thinking. She spoke with one of them professors of hers, telling him about how smart Amos was and how he loved to read books and write things down. This professor told her that when Amos got older, he could learn how to be a teacher of deaf children using them hand signs in the book. She brought that book home for Amos, and he set down to studying it right away. He was real pleased with the idea of being a teacher.

  We reached the top of Katie’s Knob and could see Indian Creek spread out below us, the streets all aglow in the last light of day. I pointed out the various places to Mr. Harding: the courthouse, Pastor Bean’s church, Caraway’s Dry Goods, the places I had known all my life.

  As we were walking back to the house for supper, I said real casual to Mr. Harding, “You reckon you’ll be asking Caroline out for a date?” Frankly, I’d been real curious as to why Mr. Harding didn’t seem to be under Caroline’s spell. I’d finally gotten to where I didn’t blame Caroline for anything anymore, and I’d decided it was all right if Mr. Harding decided to fall in love with her. I’d enjoy having him around Indian Creek, to be honest.

  Mr. Harding give me a look like he didn’t know what I was talking about, then laughed. “Ah, Miss Dovey, are you trying to play matchmaker? Well, I suppose I should have mentioned that I have a lady friend in Wilkes County with whom I have an understanding. Besides, Caroline is not half as fascinating as her sister is. Miss Dovey, you are a mighty big force to be reckoned with.”

  “‘A mighty big force to be reckoned with’? Why, Mr. Harding, you talk like you was one of us Coes!” I laughed.

  “Nothing would please me more than to be one of you Coes, Miss Dovey,” Mr. Harding said, sounding serious.

  I took his hand in mine and thrown him a big grin. “Shoot, Mr. Harding, the way I see it, you already are.”

  We walked hand in hand back to the house, where supper waited on the table. How does it feel to be a free woman? I asked myself as we walked through the door. The answer come back to me right simple.

  It felt better than anything I had ever known.

  ATHENEUM BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  Text copyright © 2000 by Frances O’Roark Dowell

  All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  Book design by David Caplan

  Jacket Illustration copyright © 2013 by Karl Kwasny/The Jacky Winter Group

  The text of this book is set in Galliard.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Dowell, Frances O’Roark.

  Dovey Coe / written by Frances O’Roark Dowell. p. cm.

  Summary: When accused of murder in her North Carolina mountain town in 1928, Dovey Coe, a strong-willed twelve-year-old girl, comes to a new understanding of others, including her deaf brother.

  ISBN 0-689-83174-9 (alk. paper)

  ISBN 978-1-4424-9030-7 (eBook)

  [1. Brothers and sisters—Fiction. 2. Mountain life—Fiction. 3. North Carolina—Fiction. 4. Deaf—Fiction. 5. Murder—Fiction. 6. Physically handicapped—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.D75455 Do 2000 [Fic]—dc21 99-46870

 

 

 


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