The Sharecropper Prodigy (24 page)

             
“Is that a threat, Mr. Higgins?” Will asked, starting to move a little further away from the truck.

             
“No, it ain’t no threat, boy. I’m just sayin’ sometimes a man has to do certain things to keep his children safe, that’s all. Why, I reckon a man would do about anything for his children. You shore have do have a fine lookin’ boy and girl there,” Roscoe said, pointing toward the children. “I bet six-hundred dollars could buy them some nice duds and some shiny new toys, too. That’s a whole heap better than comin’ home one day and finding out one of ‘em’s run off somewhere.”

             
Will looked at Roscoe, then turned around and looked at his children. It was getting dark out and he couldn’t believe their momma hadn’t called them in yet.

             
“Is my wife alright?” Will asked Roscoe, trying to keep his voice from sounding shaky.

             
“I couldn’t rightly say, boy. I ain’t never seen your wife. Me and Rex here ain’t been out of this truck since we drove up.”

             
As soon as Roscoe had gotten the words out of his mouth, Will’s wife came to the door and told the children to come in the house. Will breathed a sigh of relief. Will turned back to Roscoe. “What do you want me to say,” he asked, hating himself for giving in. But what choice did he have? He knew the town was full of Higgins. He couldn’t tell his wife to keep the children indoors all the time. And what if they did something to harm her? He knew Ned had had a mean streak in him a mile wide and he could see where it came from. Six-hundred dollars talked awful loud, too. If he was going to be forced into doing something he didn’t want to do, he felt like he may as well be compensated for it.

             
“We’ll let you know what to say the day before your called to testify,” Roscoe told him. “We wanna make sure it’s fresh on your mind when you take the stand.”

*****

              Mr. Winston offered to pay for the best lawyer he could find, but Ben would have none of it. We all told him he was making a terrible mistake, wanting to serve as his own council.

             
“Ben, your life could be on the line here, son,” Mr. Winston had said. “At the very least you may face prison time if you are found guilty of something less than murder. I know you are a genius, nobody’s questioning that, but you don’t have any trainin’ when it comes to the law.”

             
“I’ve done a lot of research, sir,” Ben told him. “And I’ve been reading law books for years, now. If I get a lawyer, he’ll control everything I do or say. I trust myself more than somebody I’ve never met.”

             
Ben’s trial started on the first Monday in July. The courtroom was packed, with people standing outside, hoping somebody would get up to go relieve themselves or maybe get hungry so they could get there seat. The balcony was also packed with negroes from all over the county. Evergreen and Nellie were given seats on the front row. Ben sat alone at his table, which would have been intimidating to anybody else. Randall Baxter had his secretary and another lawyer at his table. But Ben didn’t look the least bit intimidated. In fact, he looked eager, as if he were in a card game and was waiting to be dealt his hand.

             
Judge Hawkins walked into the courtroom and everybody rose. I looked at the clock on the wall that said it was 9:02.

             
“This court will come to order,” the judge spoke loudly. “Case number CC-88-2925, the State of Alabama versus Benjamin Franklin Evans.” The judge paused and looked down at Ben who looked small sitting alone at his table. “I want this to go on the record,” the judge said looking at the court reporter. Then he looked back at Ben. “Mr. Evans, you’ve been told several times that you have the right to council and it has been strongly suggested that you do so. If you can’t afford council, the court will appoint one at no cost to you. Do you understand that?”

             
“I do, your honor,” Ben answered. “I’ve been offered the benefit of council on numerous occasions and I wish to represent myself, sir.”

             
“Let the record show Mr. Evans has repeatedly refused council.”

             
“Mr. Baxter, is the prosecution ready for it’s opening statement?”

             
“I am, your honor,” Baxter answered with a smug little smile on his face.

             
Baxter stood up and walked slowly toward the eleven men and one woman that made up the jury. All white of course. Baxter paced back and forth, looking at each individual juror as if he were about to pick one out to run an errand for him.

             
“Gentlemen, or I guess I should say lady and gentlemen, I intend to show you over the course of the next couple of days how the defendant, Ben Evans, and his accomplice, Mr. Manuel Cruz, did willfully and with malice, murder Ned Williams in cold blood. Now, he’s gonna tell you that he was threatened by Mr. Higgins and feared for his life, and also for that of his accomplice. I won’t argue that Mr. Higgins had a weapon. He was there with George Winston, his employer, and the owner of the cotton gin where the incident took place and a fellow employee. Mr. Winston saw the lights on at the office of his cotton gin and thought someone had made an unlawful entry, which in fact they had. They were there with Mr. Winston’s daughter, but she doesn’t own the gin. Her father does. Mr. Higgins, the victim of this crime, was doin’ what he was asked by his employer to do. But Mr. Evans and his accomplice somehow managed to take the gun away from the victim and instead of letting him go, shot him down. It’s as simple as that, ladies and gentlemen. There’s no point in me spending half a day up here trying to tell you the reason’s why this happened, or give you some elaborate hypothesis as to a motive. The fact is, it did happen, whatever the motive. Mr. Evans comes by violent tendencies honestly. Why, his own father brutally raped and attempted to murder an innocent and well-loved member of this community. I believe growin’ up and being subjected to that kind of violence only fueled those tendencies when Mr. Higgins tried to protect Miss Winston that night. I believe Mr. Evans had romantic notions for Miss Winston, feelin’s she didn’t return, and that really turned his anger into a murderous rage, and Mr. Higgins was the unfortunate victim that violent rage was directed at. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, my friends.”

             
Baxter walked back and forth in front of the jury like a caged lion, trying to read their faces and see what effect his words had had on them. Apparently he saw something in some of the faces that satisfied him. He looked at them intently. “I have nothing further to add. I’ll let the facts speak for themselves.” 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

              As Baxter took his seat, I whispered to Rachel, “What facts are he talkin’ about? He don’t have any facts.” I knew Ben never had, or never would lie to me. I believed his account of what happened that night completely. How did Baxter think he was going to prove anything different than what Ben had said? There was nobody in the cotton gin office that night but Ben, Manuel and Ned Higgins, and Ned wasn’t around anymore to tell anybody anything. I believed he was just trying desperately to plant the seed of doubt in the jurors minds. What I couldn’t figure out was who he was going to call as witnesses. Who could he have to testify against Ben that had anything but wild guesses as to what happened.

             
“Mr. Evans, do you have an opening statement?”

             
“Yes, your honor, I do,” Ben said, rising from his seat.

             
Ben didn’t walk toward the jury as Baxter had done. He started out right where he was standing. I knew, however, if he got on a roll, the pacing would soon start.

             
“First of all, I would like to thank you good people of Jones County for sacrificing your daily wages or your usual daily endeavors to do your civic duty. That is an honorable thing you’re doin’, but I know a burden on all of you. We live in the greatest country with the fairest judicial system in the world. If we are accused of a crime, we have the right to confront our accusers in front of fine people like yourselves and tell our side of the story. If there is even a reasonable doubt that we are guilty of the charges brought against us, we cannot be convicted. And a jury’s decision must be unanimous. We have the right to have people professionally trained in the law to defend us whether we can afford to pay them or not. That’s as fair and just a system as anybody could ask for. In this country, we are allowed to protect ourselves and our property from those who mean to do us harm, without fear of any reprisal from the law. Self preservation and the preservation of one’s family is a natural instinct among all living things and is natural law. Natural Law is what our country was founded on. The idea that rights come from God and not an all powerful, central government, and that they are inalienable and can’t be taken away at the whim of a tyrant. Tyrants like we are at this moment fighting against in Europe and in the Pacific. Tyrants who want to impose their will on other people and treat them as slaves under the auspices that what they are doing is for the common good. In this country, I am considered a minority. My progenitors were African, whereas the vast majority of this country is made up of people of European descent. But I submit to you, that the color of my skin in no way makes me the smallest minority. The smallest minority, my friend, is the individual. In this great country we recognize that. We are all created equal. That doesn’t mean we are guaranteed equal outcomes in our lives. It does, however, guarantee every man, woman and child equality in the pursuit of happiness and to go as far as our efforts and abilities can take us.”

             
Ben picked up his glass of water and took a couple of small sips. Then he put his hands behind his back, just like I eventually knew he would, and stepped out from behind his table.

             
“Now, I’m not using this in any way as part of my defense, but I am but three generations removed from, what was in my opinion, the only blemish there has ever been in this otherwise great country that I love. The heinous institution of slavery. I guess if I chose to do so, I could hold a life-long grudge against the descendents of those who chose to keep my ancestors in bondage. In fact, slavery goes against everything this country was founded on. The premise that all men are created equal. But our founders saw this great sin from the beginning, and though it took eighty some odd years for it to come to fruition, it was finally abolished. Once again, justice prevailed, proving to the world that this American experiment would endure, even after we were torn asunder by our own hands. Consanguinity and our own kinship didn’t keep those who believed in equality and justice for all, from prevailing, even though it meant pitting brother against brother in a bloody war.”

             
Ben paused again for a minute, turning his attention from the jury to the people in the packed courtroom, who were all listening intently. I believe the old adage of hearing a pin drop would have held true at that moment. Other than someone occasionally moving a little in their seat or maybe a cough, it was dead silent. Ben saw in the back of the courtroom, standing among complete strangers, the beautiful face of Abby, smiling. She had come in before he started talking, though he didn’t know it at the time. This strengthened his resolve even more. He took another sip of water and continued.

             
“Yes, friends, I suppose I could hold a grudge if I wanted to and feel sorry for myself for the hand I was dealt. But as far as I know, and if there were they would be in mighty feeble condition, there isn’t a single person here today that ever owned a negro slave, or anybody from any other race as far as that goes.” Ben’s last statement got a few muffled laughs from the people in the courtroom. I even noticed a couple of men in the jury smiling.

             
“What I’m about to say is gonna shock the vast majority of the people listening. But friends, I am glad my ancestors were brought to this country. I wished it had been under very different and more favorable circumstances, but where would I be now had they remained in the place of their birth? I can’t answer that question, because I have no record of my families genealogy. As far as I know, me and my brothers and sister are the first of our family that ever learned to read or write, so there are no family Bible’s recording births, or deaths, or marriages, or other memorable events a lot of people have recorded and take for granted. I hope one day to be able to find my roots, but for now what is important to me is not where I came from, but where I am going. But there is one thing I am sure of. Wherever my ancestors came from, if I had had the misfortune to have been born there, I would never have been afforded the great opportunities I have in this wonderful country that I love dearly and would give my life for.”

             
Ben paused again briefly, looking this time at me and Rachel.

             
“So, friends, let me be clear. I hold absolutely no ill will or animosity toward white people. Are there inequities between the races? Everybody here knows I would be lyin’ if I said there wasn’t. I can’t eat in most restaurants. When I travel by train, at least in the south, I have to ride in a separate car. I have to sit in the balcony at the picture show,” Ben looked up to where his mama was sitting and pointed, “and in this very building, my own mother and sister are having to look down on me from up there. Do I like these things? Of course I don’t. But to me they are just minor inconveniencies that I have to deal with while I’m on my journey to my destiny. I also believe strongly, though I’m sure I will have several dissenters in this building, that in the near future, I’ll be able to eat where I choose and sit where I choose. That’s the faith I have in God, and in the American spirit that His providence so richly blessed us with.”