Deep in the Heart of Me (27 page)

"Is she sick? Will she die?" I ask, stepping away from Sobe's bedside long enough to meet Maman in the doorway and take a pan of warm water from her.

We have her in Granma's bed. That's where Maman told me to lay Sobe when I carried her into the house. It's the only one that's private. Mom had to help me get my arms from beneath her. They were frozen in position from holding her, and it was hard to straighten.

"Antonio," my mother says. She is concerned, not only for Sobe but for me. I have not spoken with her, not in the way I know she desires since I came home from jail in the wee hours.

She doesn't know that when I was trying to run off to St. Louis with Sobe, I was trying to get married. She only knows that I, her son, have killed Sheriff. She would not put it that way. She would say that terribly sick man nearly killed her boy. She would say it like that.

So I am at her elbow now as she sits with Sobe and mothers over her, wiping my sweetheart's feverish hands and forehead.

"She has to get better," I tell Maman setting the fresh pan on the nightstand.

"Tonio," Sobe says, and I go around to the other side of the bed and drop to my knees.

"I'm right here." I take her hands and hold them tightly. She is on her side, her eyes closed. She keeps our joined hands against her heart.

I kiss her temple and feel how warm she is.

"She is grief-sick," Maman says wiping away my kiss as she dabs at Sobe's forehead. "She needs rest and care. Pray for her, Tonio. Pray out loud."

I don't. Just at supper a couple of times. Not like this. But Maman is tired and serious. I bow my head. Sobe is mad at God, and I hope this doesn't make her mad at me. "Lord please help Sobe get better and…thank you for bringing her to the farm. Amen."

"Amen," Maman says.

Sobe just keeps crying. It's not loud crying, it's quiet crying. It's nearly silent. She can't talk to us anymore. She can't look at us. But she holds my hands.

Maman wipes Sobe's forehead again. She even has slicked back her hair. I stay right there, my hands with hers.

"I love her," I tell Maman, but I'm looking at Sobe. I love her so much.

Maman keeps wringing the rag.

"I am going to put her in a gown. Get Miss Rivers and stay out," Maman says very seriously.

"I can't leave her," I say. Well, I'd have to pry my hands away, and I don't want to.

"Tonio," Sobe whimpers, keeping her eyes closed.

"I'm here," I say.

Dad comes first. He'd taken Ebbie and gone to Uncle John's to help Mike with chores.

He argues with Maman, and Miss Rivers tries to help. He is in the doorway and tells me to come out. He looks at Sobe, and his eyes are troubled.

I have to pry my hands, and she whimpers. I kiss her temple again and say I'll be right back. She doesn't respond, and Miss Rivers takes my place.

I follow Dad deeper into the kitchen.

"Pack some clothes. We'll go see Faraday," he says.

Faraday is Ned. My Dad looks tired. He sounds tired.

"Dad…Sobe needs me," I say.

"Do what I say Tonio."

I know he is right and if either of us gets to stay here it must be Sobe.

Upstairs I pack my knapsack quickly. I make sure to get Sobe's picture from beneath my pillow.

I'm soon back with Dad. But first, I need to see Sobe. She looks the same. I do not tell her good-bye, but it rips my heart further to think of leaving her.

Dad doesn't say anything on the way to the station. When we get there, Ned is on a call so we must wait. When he comes in he is carrying my pistol.

"You must be a mind-reader," he says to me. "Saved me a trip to your farm."

He holds the pistol so I can see it. "Familiar?"

"Yes, Sir," I say. "It's a Luger."

"Yeah, it's a Luger. There ain't a granma in the county wouldn't know that," Ned says.

I can see dried matter on it. Sheriff's blood.

"Where did you get it?" he says.

I stand there like a dummy, but I don't want to say.

"Tell him," Dad says with force.

"It was Shaun's," I say.

Dad stares at me. He already knows I'm a liar. He knew Shaun's rifle. See we know one another's weapons. We shoot them, swap them, admire them or covet them, brag on them, and show-them-off while we hunt.

Shaun didn't have a Luger. And Dad wouldn't have one, not after the war. He didn't have fond memories. He said a Luger had almost no muzzle rise so was made to be shot from instinct. He admired the design, but he had no wish to own a Luger.

"Shaun let me shoot it. I was going to buy it from him," I say.

"With that fifty dollars," Ned repeats like he's listening to the biggest bull-shitter ever lived.

"My guess is that's the same Luger we been looking for, the one that killed Shaun. I think we got us a real interesting development here."

"I didn't kill Shaun," I say. "I'm no killer." Well, I'm not.

Ned is standing and moving toward me. I look at Dad. His face is pale, and his mouth is open. He's looking at me like he doesn't know me at all.

"Dad, it wasn't me."

Ned herds me into the cell, and I go easy. The sound of that door still jars. I don't know if Sobe will be all right without me.

God, if I tell them, I put Big Belly up for it. He held a rifle on me at Otto's. He didn't use the pistol until we were in the car.

But that doesn't mean he hadn't used the Luger to shoot at us. Especially Shaun being on foot.

Me, I was riding Jack Bastard through the yard. He could of shot at me with that pistol, it goes for a mile. Makes sense he would have had that on him first since they were inside at that game and not expecting trouble.

People don't go to the law on Otto Smith. They just don't. I start this there will be no end to it.

"I'm gonna have to get the truth out of him," Ned says to Dad. "I can't do it with you looking on."

Dad says, "You plan to lay a finger on him you'll go through me."

Ned shifts his weight to one side, hands on hips, "He'll go down for murder."

"Let me have some time with him," Dad says.

"You've had all night," Ned says back.

"Give me five minutes!" Dad yells.

"I've covered up a lot of shit in my time here. I should a been sheriff when Jim Tolson died. We both know it, but you didn't stand for me. They brought in this new hire and folks didn't take to him no matter how fancy his party or how pretty his daughter he wasn't ever gonna be one of us. Now I know how it goes around here. I know how the Clannans are thought about, believe me, I do." He points at me, "This one's coming on age, he thinks he's gonna write the law to suit him because his daddy and his uncles own the county. Well, it ain't so." He laughs some. "Smiths own the county, and we both know it because they will do what they got to."

Dad steps closer to Ned, "You listen to me, give me five minutes with my son, and I'll not only do your job, but I'll also keep your oil drum full just like I did for Tolson, and you won't pay me a mill."

They stare for a minute, and Ned walks around Dad and goes out and slams the door.

Dad gets close to the cell. "Come here, boy."

I am standing right before him. He reaches in and grabs me around the back of the neck and pulls my face against the bars. "Two reasons you will tell me everything. One is your mother. Two is the unborn child she carries."

"You bribed him," I say. I don't know my own father. He bribed Fat Ned. Fat Ned!

He lets go, and I resist rubbing my face where the bars pressed. It's too much for me. Too big. I won't kill Maman over it.

Nothing else matters. But I've been mad over the new baby. For a long time.

"Time you saw what a man has to do…," he says.

"That's a man?"

"I've nine children and one on the way you idiot!" he yells and that vein that runs down his forehead fills up blue.

"You're the one who will kill Maman, not me! You promised there would be no more babies," I say. "You're the liar!" I think that's when it all started. I really do. I've been looking to get him for that. I have.

"My God. It's a wonder I haven't killed you myself," he says. "So full of pride and arrogance." He grabs me around the neck again and says right in my face, "Talk, or I swear on Shaun's grave I will walk out of here and leave you on your own to choke on your hubris you foolish prodigal."

He lets me go and backs away, and I wipe his spit from my face. Now I want to tell him. "The night of Sheriff's party I went on Smith land to steal Otto's mule. I did steal it. And they shot at me. And while I was tearing hell across their yard the outhouse blew up. Shaun."

I think he takes the Lord's name in vain here, but I go on.

"We met up--me, Pat and Shaun. They'd been shooting at us, and I guess Shaun got hit. But he didn't say so we didn't know. Anyway, we had Pat's colt in the truck and got the mule in too. I went my own way, and Pat was so drunk he wrecked the truck, and the mule got out. Well, I saw the mule and found the wreck and Shaun was out of the truck and…he was…he looked dead. But we got him in the truck, and Pat made me leave. He wouldn't let me be involved.

"So I found the mule and took it to Otto, and he paid me the fifty. A reward. But he knew it was me took it. So…Belly drove me to the bottoms and pulled the Luger and wanted the money…and to kill me. But I got the gun and got away. And I shot out the windows on Otto's car."

I know I look proud. I know I shouldn't. So something hits cause Dad's face…. So I'm not so proud on the next, "But…he drove off and…I lived. But Shaun…didn't. And that's why they haven't come for me. They're just waiting for me to tell it. Then they will come. Again. Because they been on our land once," and I rally here and I'm mad again, "…and you didn't do a thing about it. So…I did."

I don't like the way he's looking at me. But I can't fix it now.

"I'm…sorry. For most of it. But…not all. They shouldn't of come on our land."

He is staring at me.

And me…I'm staring back.

"Why did you have that pistol?" he says this very flat and serious.

"I was taking Sobe into the city. We planned to spend two nights."

"Mother of…," he says.

"We were going to…get married."

He moves his lips to say the 'm' but no sound comes out.

"Sheriff found out somehow. He…he was really mad."

Now I see sparks in his eyes. I really do.

"Are you…are you still glad I'm your son?" I say. I just want to know where I stand.

For a minute, I don't think he's going to answer. Then he says, "Damn if I didn't hope you had some of your mother, but no, you're more my cloth than the rest." He is looking past me now like he sees to the bottom of a dark endless pit. He takes in a breath and faces me, "You'll tell it now. Just like that. Leave out the marrying, you'll only embarrass yourself, and it's bad enough."

"What about the pistol?"

"It's your word against his. Shaun could have taken it. I doubt he'll be anxious to tell of how he tried to kill you. I'll take care of the Smiths. You'll tell about the high-jinx and that's all. You returned the mule, and that's the end of it. You'll be the fool for a while, but you'll be alive."

"But they'll come for us," I say.

"I'll deal with the Smiths," Dad says.

"Yes, Sir," I say. "But I'm still marrying Sobe."

Dad gets close to the bars. "And when this is over, I'll deal with you. Boyo." Now he does smile, but it's not kind.

"How so?"

"Pity the girl that marries you and your crooked fifty dollars while your brain is still trying to grow some common sense," he says.

I let him have the last word. I owe him that maybe.

But of course, he's very wrong.

Dad talks to Ned outside where I can't hear so well, even standing under this up-high sorry excuse for a window.

So I'm stuck in here waiting on my fate. I can't help looking at that spot where I killed Sheriff.

Then at that cell and seeing Sobe there. I hope they don't leave me in here alone too long. It's torture thinking Dad might spring me. It's worse thinking he won't.

I close my eyes and think of Shaun. He left me out there. Not even telling me about the dynamite.

Here I was riding through the yard like a target in a turkey shoot with the Smith's emptying weapons. Well, I brought it on myself, sure. But that explosion didn't help things. It got Shaun killed.

I was spared, that's all. Could Dad be right about common sense? Is he saying I have none? Because that's not true and he's one to talk getting Mom pregnant after seeing what happened to Peg.

And dammit I knew Sobe was in trouble. I just didn't know from what end. But I was right to try and take her away. And I've been a good son, mostly, doing whatever I'm told. So how he can fault me, well he's mad at me. And worried. But bribing Ned for five minutes to talk to his own son, I can't feature it.

Well, maybe he was buying more than those five minutes. I guess he was. We'll see.

So Dad talks to Ned outside where I can't hear, and that ends in Ned coming in and unlocking my cell. I can go home.

I look at Dad. He nods I should quit standing there saying, "Golly-gee," and get my ass moving.

Ned won't look at me, and Dad won't stop looking at me so I get out, pick up my stuff and follow Dad out. Hallelujah, I'm set free.

But we don't go home. When we pass Clannan Lane, and my heart is pulling for Sobe, Dad goes past.

"What are you doing?" I say so loudly I guess you could call it yelling.

Dad says he nearly had Ned keep me so I'd stay away from 'that poor girl' who has been through enough. I don't say, 'What about what I've been through, your own son, and maybe I'd like to be around my family too, or Sobe for sure!' But I don't say it because he already told me I'm dumb.

"Calm down," he says. "We're going to see the Smiths."

Is he out of his mind? "Not me," I say.

He doesn't even glance at me.

I make to open the door while he's tooling along at fifteen miles per hour and he grabs my arm. "Stay put," he growls.

I do, but I'm looking around worse than when I was caged at the station. "He tried to kill me," I say, in case he forgot that part of the story.

"Calm down," he says. Then he looks at me. "Get ahold."

I've got ahold.

We are driving to Dewberry then. I'm having a million thoughts, imagining how this could go about ten different ways. He thinks he knows what he's doing going into Smith country without so much as a pocket knife then he's the one with no common sense. Which I already knew.

We get on to Smith country then, and I feel it the minute we go into it. It's different here, more winding and hidden. Dips, hollers, trees. We live above ground, flat wide open we tear it up and cultivate it down, and you can see us from a mile.

We got the oil. We fill the boards and say what goes. But these, you don't see these coming until you do and then you better be ready for it.

Cellar dwellers. Smiths. I roll my window and let that cold wind hit me, and I can smell those Smiths. Hand to God above I can, and it's the smell of frozen peat and that which is just under the mud, the kind of things you didn't think about until you stick in the shovel and turn it over.

You have to look for their lane. It's not marked, it doesn't say welcome.

Dad slows when we get close. There's that big dead tree no one cuts for wood and hauls home. There are those strange white donkeys Tublar Smith raises. Your headlights hit them after dark, and it's like a yard of ghost donkeys.

It's another world here.

Not long after the white donkeys there's the turn-off. Then you go another mile on the roughest road God ever allowed in the kingdom of Hades. You see one poor ramshackle, then another and these are the relations that do their bidding, the poor slaves of their plantation.

You go deep in to see Otto. He doesn't like you maybe you don't get out. I look at my dad. He will get out. And I already have. But now I'm back in, and they bring it out of me, the jack-bastard that is alive and well. And Dad's right, he has no common sense at all.