by Lila Beckham
“I’m beginning to think that I have some sort of curse on me. Maybe I was supposed to die when Earl and Vernon had me-”
“Don’t talk like that, Emma. No one is meant to die at the hand of someone else. There are just bad people in this world and why you keep getting on the edge of danger, I don’t know, but I don’t believe in curses.”
“Well, I do.” Emma said firmly, remembering when old Annie had cursed the members of the Copeland Gang as they killed Elizabeth Moffett and her family.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know, Sheriff,” Emma said solemnly. “I’ll go back to my mama’s when I get out of here. As far as that goes, you don’t have to bother to come to visit me anymore either. Thanks for the coke and candy bar,” she said, turning her back to him.
Joshua stepped over to where she stood, took her by the shoulders, and turned her to face him. “Emma, I don’t want you to be mad at me. I want us to stay friends. I just need to live by myself. It’s what I am used to; it’s what I want. You’ve done nothing wrong.” When he saw her eyes fill with tears, he hugged her to him.
“Everything will be alright,” he said. “You will still have me to talk to if you need me. You have your family… and you have John. John likes you a lot. He is a fine young man, Emma. You need to give him a chance.”
Emma looked up into his caring eyes and her anger abated. She buried her face against his shoulder and clung to him. He smelled so good and felt good in her arms. The memory of his skillful lovemaking caused her to tremble. She hated to release him, but she knew that in order to keep their relationship on a good level she needed to be mature and respect his wishes.
Joshua felt her tremble. “And, I will still come to see you. You know I care about what happens to you. Still friends?” he asked. Emma nodded her head, but did not immediately release him.
Joshua hoped that Emma could not feel how badly he felt having to tell her what he did. She felt good in his arms, the closeness of her body causing memories of their lovemaking to flash through his mind; however, he knew it was for the best as he eased himself out of her embrace.
37
Impositions and Inquisitions
Joshua stood on the courthouse steps smoking a cigarette. Just being there was an imposition. He felt it was a waste of his time and the taxpayer’s money. Why should he have to suffer through an inquisition in the first place? All he had done was uphold the law and attempt to arrest a double murderer.
If it were up to him, he would be sitting on his back porch with his feet propped on the railing, listening to music, and drinking a bottle of whiskey, which was exactly what he intended to do as soon as he was done with the business of defending himself in the killing of Tom Stringer.
He still did not understand why they were making a big deal out of it. Hell, he carried the scar from the bullet Johnny Treble put in him as he tried to arrest Tom. If he had not shot Tom, Tom would surely have killed him. Tom didn’t have anything to lose; he had already killed Cassie Bohannon and Joe Dyas.
Joshua had answered their questions as clearly and concisely as he could, now all he could do was wait. He had always heard that you had to play the hand you were dealt. He didn’t believe that, everyone has a choice. Most people choose their own fate.
He hated waiting on others to choose his fate. He would rather be at the head of the table dealing his own hand than allowing others to do it for him.
A sudden gust of wind whipped through the nearby trees and the call of an Indian hen that echoed with the wind caused him to smile. He felt that everything in his world was about to be righted. When the bailiff stepped out and motioned for him to return to the courtroom, he snuffed out his cigarette and hurried in. He was ready to get it over with so that he could go home.
When he entered the small courtroom where such proceedings were held, he could not tell by their faces whether his hand was a good one or a dud. He took a seat beside the representative for the sheriff’s office and waited for the appellate to speak. When told to rise, he did so and waited.
“Sheriff Stokes, it has been the decision of these inquisitors that you upheld your duty as sheriff of said county in the handling of the case at hand. You are hereby cleared of any wrongdoing in the death of one, Thomas Stringer. You are free to return to your duties in the great State of Alabama, as Sheriff of Mobile County. You are free to go, sir.”
Joshua nodded his head. He had never left his duties as the Sheriff of Mobile County, he thought to himself as he turned and walked out of the courtroom. He walked down the steps and across the street to his parked cruiser. He did not know if he even took a breath as he walked there, however, as soon as he sat behind the wheel, he let go a sigh of relief.
He lit a cigarette, dug through his collection of tapes, and inserted his Rolling Stones tape into the 8-track player. He cranked his car, left the downtown area, and headed straight for his cabin.
Rolling out Highway 98 toward the Mississippi State Line, he joined in and sang along with Mick Jagger’s ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ as if he knew every word by heart. He felt the weight lifting from his shoulders as he relaxed behind the wheel.
Everything was about right in his world. Tomorrow he would go to his grandfather’s old house and start digging through his mother and father’s belongings. He intended to find his mother’s journal, he had also had an epiphany about the dream he had of the scene on a levee, and some of the disappearances of people back in the thirties.
Joshua Stokes had a new mission - Hook’s planned getaway would just have to wait a little while longer…