Cherokee (24 page)

He put up a hand. “You're preachin' to the converted. I didn't say it was fair. I didn't even say it was right or made any sense. Envy ain't got no sense. That very sonofabitch that's calling you
Mister
Williams on the street is probably wishing your horse would fall over with you. You and your family have been more than fair, Justa. But you're rich. And rich draws envy and hate just like whiskey draws a drunk, I don't care how fair you are. Some folks' idea of you being fair would be you give them all your money and leave the country. So don't look for no big tide of sympathy for Norris.”

“I see,” I said. I sat quietly for a few moments, thinking.

Lew said, “What'd you want me to do, lie to you? I've been talking as the law. I haven't talked as your friend.”

“Norris loses his arm, or anything worse, and I'll wipe that family out.” I didn't say it fierce or angry or vicious or loud. I just stated it as a simple fact. It didn't matter about the different mothers anymore. Even if we hadn't shared a drop of common blood, we'd been raised as brothers and that was all that it took.

Lew said, “I wonder why that doesn't surprise me, you saying that.”

“Well, you are the law. I thought I'd let you know. I figure you got to take an attitude on the matter.”

He shook his head. “As far as I'm concerned this is a private matter that they started.”

“I'd still prefer the law to handle it, but if you say there ain't nothing the law can do, then I understand.”

Lew spread his hands. He said again, “I can lock him up, Justa. But a court is gonna turn him loose. You know that and so do I. I reckon you've seen Norris?”

“He was sleeping. I'm going back over this afternoon. Maybe he'll be able to say something.”

Lew said, “That fever takes you, it can get a power of a hold.” He stood up and said, “Let's go down to Crook's and eat some chili and drink a few beers. You look like you just got off a cattle car, got hay all over you.”

We went on down to Crook's combination cafe and bar, and got a table and had some chili with beans and flour tortillas on the side along with some mugs of beer. I was good and hungry. Me and Hays had been on the train when breakfast had come around, and the train had been moving and we were out of supplies, so we'd made do with conversation for grub, and conversation with Hays wasn't very filling. Lew asked me about the trip to Oklahoma, and I described it without telling him the reason I'd gone to see Charlie Stevens, other than to look into the sawmill business.

Lew said, “That what the twenty-five thousand dollars in gold was for?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You know them redskins, don't trust the white man's dollar.”

He knew, of course, the places I'd been in Oklahoma, and was surprised to find they'd grown as much as they had in the ten years since he'd been there. He said, “Just shows what can happen to an area when you take the undesirable element out.”

I said, “I was just about to call that to your attention.”

After lunch I went to the hotel and had a bath. We kept a room there just for the use of the family, and I kept several sets of clean clothes stored in it. I shaved and cleaned my teeth, and felt considerably better when I stepped out onto the street. I went first down to the bank and talked, one at a time, to all the people that worked there. A young clerk named Ben Johnson had been the first to react to the sound of the gunshot. He'd met Shay Jordan on the stairs, hurrying toward the bottom, with the gun still smoking in his hand. Johnson had asked him what had happened, but he said Jordan hadn't said a word, just brushed past him and gone out of the bank. Johnson had said he'd gone to Norris's office and found Norris bleeding on the floor, laying on his right side. I asked him if he'd noticed a drawer. He said, “Yessir, Mister Williams, it was the drawer out of Mister Norris's desk. It was layin' on his leg. I shoved it back in the desk to kind of clear the scene up. Was a bunch of people had come running up right behind me.”

“Where was Norris's gun?”

“There was a gun over in the corner. I guess you'd say it was Mister Norris's gun.”

“You tell the sheriff about putting the drawer back in the desk?”

He shook his head. “Nosir. Never come across my mind.”

“But you saw it clean out of the desk? Not just pulled halfway open?”

“It was layin' on Mister Norris. Heavy old drawer. Then they was all that blood. And I could see Mister Norris was hurt good and proper. I wasn't studyin' about no desk drawer. Wasn't no drawer shot him, was that goddam Shay Jordan.”

When I got done with all of them it was going on for half past two. I went by the sheriff's office and gathered up Lew to go over with me to see Norris. I told Lew on the way over what the bank clerk had said. I said, “That don't sound like Norris was opening a drawer to get at a pistol. I don't know what happened, but that ain't the way a man gets a gun out of a drawer.”

Lew said, “I ain't disputing that, Justa. Goddammit, I'd hang Shay Jordan right now if I could get a judge to give the order. Ain't but two people know what happened in that office, and you are probably going to have two different versions.”

We got to the infirmary and went inside. The lady who ran the desk was back in her place, and there was a lady patient sitting there with a goiter hanging over the collar of her dress. I was just about to ask for Doctor Adams when he came in from the back. He saw me and Lew and motioned us to come back. He said, “He's awake, but his fever is still high. And he's awful weak. He can't keep food down, just vomits it right back up. Which is making it more difficult to get his strength up. You can see him for a minute, but don't expect too much.”

We went into the room where Norris was laying in the bed. The place smelled like a sickroom. I'd been told the smell was carbolic acid, something they used to keep sickrooms clean, but I'd smelled carbolic acid outside of a sickroom and it didn't smell nothing like a sickroom.

Norris turned his head slightly as we came quietly through the door. He said, his voice kind of hoarse, his face taking on an anxious cast, “Justa, I never provoked him. You told us before you left not to cause any trouble. I swear I didn't.”

I went up to the bed and put my hand on his left shoulder. “I know you didn't, Norris. Don't worry about it. If you can, try and tell me what happened.”

Doctor Adams said, “In as few words as possible.”

Norris seemed to be out of breath. He said, “He came in, unasked. He began making remarks about, about our, our family. I . . .”

He had to stop and breathe for a second. When he went on he seemed a little calmer. “He said he'd heard you were out of town. He said that was lucky for you because he was looking for you. I'd ... I'd . . .”

Doctor Adams said, “Take it easy, Norris.” He looked around at us. “I'm afraid that's enough.”

But Norris was shaking his head. He said weakly, “Justa, all I did was stand up to, to or . . . order him out of my office. He pulled his gun and shot me. Justa, he meant to kill me.”

I said, “What about the drawer? The desk drawer? The drawer your gun was in?”

He frowned, trying to think. “I don't know. I grabbed at something. I . . . I . . .” He started having trouble breathing again.

I said, “What's the matter with his lungs, Gregory?”

The doctor was turning Lew toward the door. He said, “There's nothing wrong with his lungs. He's just too weak to talk. It gets him out of breath. Now get out of here. Come back in the morning.”

I said, “You need somebody to sit up with him?”

Gregory said, “That's what I get paid for. What use would you be, sitting up with him?”

Lew and I left the infirmary and walked back over to his office. We sat down and Lew poured us out a drink. I gave him time to have a good part of the whiskey and then said, “Well?”

He said, “Goddammit, Justa, I am not going to tell you again. It don't make no difference. There's that gun laying there on the floor. There's your brother with a hole in his arm. There's Shay saying he didn't pull first, that Norris did. What the hell you want me to do?”

“Lew, did I ask you to do anything? Hadn't you already made it clear how you see it?”

“Hell, you just got through asking me.”

“I was asking you, just out of curiosity, what you thought happened. I think Norris stood up, Shay shot him, and Norris reached out to grab something to slow his fall, grabbed hold of the handle of that drawer, pulled it out when he fell, and then the gun spilled out. I figure Shay saw that and nearly split his britches grinning because it was a lucky break he'd of never been able to think up. I doubt Norris even remembers what happened. I know the few times I've been shot I've been stunned for a few seconds and couldn't have told you if it was night or day, much less if I was pulling on a desk drawer or not.”

Lew thought a minute. He shrugged. “Makes as much sense as anything. Norris ain't overly smart when it comes to guns and gun situations, but I can't see him being fool enough to try for a gun out of a drawer when a man's standing in front of him who's got a revolver an inch away from his hand.”

I said as evenly as I could, “Lew, kind of watch what you say about Norris right now.”

He gave me a startled look. “I didn't say anything you ain't said, except it wasn't as bad.”

“But Norris is my brother.”

Lew put his hands on top of his head and grimaced. “Fine. Norris is a gunman, he's good with a gun. I know you feel bad about him right now and so do I. I consider I'm friends with the whole family. I was just trying to look at it as it was or might have been. I didn't mean nothing against Norris. Hell, I was just agreeing with you and giving the reasons why. What you thought how it happened.”

“Forget it. I'm a little upset.” I got out a cigarillo and lit it. “Pour us out another drink and forget I said anything.”

“Actually I was paying Norris a compliment. I was saying I didn't think he was fool enough, no matter how eaten up he is with this being-tough business, to try and get a gun out of a drawer when a man is standing right there who can shoot him before he can even open the drawer, much less get at a gun.”

I sighed. “Goddammit, you are starting to sound like Ray Hays. Now pour us a drink.”

He didn't exactly smile, but it was close enough to it for most purposes. “Well, now, I don't know as I want you drinking my whiskey if you go to making accusations like that.”

“Pour the damn whiskey, Lew. Hell, I think I'll move to Oklahoma. I seem to get along better with the Indians than I do with folks around here.”

“You look like one. You look more like one than I do and I'm part Cherokee. I go up there to the reservation they call me brother. They probably call you white-eyes.”

I threw back half the whiskey in my tumbler. I said, “No, they call me brother also.”

 

I had supper that night at the hotel. I could have gone to Nora's parents, the Parkers, and had one of my mother-in-law's meals, but that would have meant I'd of had to have talked and I didn't want to do that. After supper I walked around town, being careful to not go in anyplace where I had friends. I looked into the hotel stable to see if my big rawboned gelding was doing all right. He'd done more train riding in one week than a lot of folks got to do in a lifetime. He was fine, and gave me a nicker to let me know.

After that I went back to the hotel and went to bed. I had a considerable amount to think about, but I tried to keep my mind off it. A great deal depended on how Norris was the next day. But in a way, it didn't matter. You don't shoot somebody at close range in an office with the intent of just doing them a little harm. If Norris got out light it wouldn'd be for lack of trying on Shay Jordan's part.

Next morning I took my time shaving and putting on some fresh clothes. Then I went to the dining room and had a long breakfast. I didn't want to rush right over to the infirmary, half because of what I was scared I'd find, and half to give Norris time to get better. Lew came in as I was finishing my last cup of coffee. We visited about nothing in particular, and then I got up to go and see Norris. Lew asked if I wanted him to come with me. I shook my head. “No. But I'll probably be looking for you later on.” He said he'd be around.

Doctor Adams was in the waiting room looking at some papers when I came in. It was a little past nine. He looked up and smiled. He said, “Got some good news. His fever broke last night.”

I said, a little uncomfortably, “Does that mean—”

“His arm? Yes, I would definitely say so. I'm not saying all danger of infection is past, but there's none of that red streaking up and down his arm that would say there was definitely a bad infection. Obviously there was infection, but it localized. It didn't spread. I'm going to give you cautious encouragement. Also, he's not so sick anymore. He held his breakfast down this morning. I'd say it's just a matter of time.”

“I can see him?”

“For a few minutes. But goddammit, don't get him excited. And I mean that, Justa.”

I went in Norris's room. I could see immediately he was feeling considerably better. There was even some color in his face. He gave me a small smile as he turned his head and saw who it was. He said, “I'll be glad to get out of this bed. How was the trip to Oklahoma?”

“Fine,” I said. “We'll talk about that later. Right now I want the straight of what happened in your office.”