Chapter 37

Emrick scurried around the room stuffing clothes into pillowcases. Earline embraced him from behind. "Git all of me woman. You know I'm hurtin'."

"You wadn't hurtin' las' night."

"This ain't las' night. S'mornin' an' de man comin' fo' me now."

"Baby, you don' act like you hate to go." Earline's eyes teared. "I thank you ready to go."

"Don' make no difference, if I wanna go or wanna stay. Man's comin', gotta be ready."

"Wish I'd a knowed you wuz gonna be lak dis." She stomped away. I'd a saved dem pok chops fo' somebody else."

"Hell woman, I payed fo' dem pok chops. You din't pick somebody else's pocket fo' dem pok chops."

Bowman could not help but overhear as he approached Earline's screen door. He quickly knocked on the door and shouted: "Em, Earline, are y'all home?"

Earline came to the door and unlatched it while glaring at Bowman with pouting lips. She did not greet him, but nodded at a pile of filled pillowcases. "He's stuff on de flo' dere."

"Okay, let me carry this out right quick and I'll come back to help Emrick to the car."

"He don' need no help. He'll prob'ly race you out dere."

"You must be some nurse then. I didn't figure he'd be able to move without pain."

"Oh, he been movin' pretty good las' day or so. Act like he really ready to move now."

"Earline, you know some people have a difficult time sayin' goodbye. Emrick probably doesn't have a lot of experience at it."

"Mr. Bowman, you'd take up fo' 'im no matter what he do. I think it's good he be leavin' now I see what a rascal he is. Take 'im on wid you now fo' I get riled."

Bowman passed through the door and grabbed several of the bundles with each hand. He looked through the bedroom door and saw Emrick finishing his packing. "Come on Em, let's get goin' before we get caught up in the heavy traffic. I've got a lot of drivin' to do today."

Walking to the car, Bowman sidled over to Emrick and whispered, "You're not even goin' to tell her goodbye?"

"Tole her goodbye early dis mornin'."

Bowman threw in the bundles of clothes and, when Emrick added the two he was carrying, he closed the trunk. He watched Emrick head for the passenger side and Bowman turned and walked over to Earline. "I'm sorry to be in such a rush, but I've got to drive all the way to Woodville and then do some straightenin' up before I can leave for the airport. I'm gonna be pushed to get everything done. It was nice gettin' to know you, hear."

"I'm hearin' loud an' clear, Mr. Bowman. You be careful now, an' thank you for all you did fo' de Porters."

"Thank you for sayin' so, Earline."

He rounded the front of the car where Emrick was already seated in the passenger seat. Then he turned to Emrick and asked what was the trouble.

"Oh, bitch jes' wanna get gushy. Hell, I know where she is I wanna come back."

"Yeah, but she may not want you to come back now. A few nice words wouldn't have hurt you."

"You de expert on women now? You don' know nuthin' 'bout handlin' women. You spoil 'em. I come back, she don' wan' me, I go fin' somebody else. No big thang. Don' wan' her runnin' up roun' my mama no how."

"You're right, Emrick. It's none of my business. I'll butt out."

When traffic began to thin, Bowman drove off the interstate and stopped at a small clothing shop.

"Wha' you doin' now?" Emrick asked.

"I'm stoppin' so you can run in and buy somethin' for your mother."

"I thought you wuz gonna butt out."

Bowman turned toward Emrick. "I am, but I ain't gonna butt out that far."

"Well, what should I git her? Why don' you jes' pick out somethin'."

"No, I want you to be able to say you selected it. Get her a big black silk scarf. She'd love that."

“Bowman, you don' know nuthin' 'bout women. You gone be de ruination a me. Ever' time I go off somewhere now, I'll have to bring her sumthin'. You spoil 'em."

"Maybe so, but yo' mama deserves some spoilin', so you do it anyway."

Emrick left the car in a huff, but he soon returned with a paper bag. He removed a long black scarf from the bag and showed it to Bowman. "Do you know what dis thang cos'?"

Bowman chuckled. "Doesn't matter, but whatever it cost, it wasn't too much."

The two men remained silent until they were well outside the city and beginning to cross a series of long bridges. Emrick commented out of the blue: "He wud'na got away from you, would he?"

Bowman had to pause and think what Emrick meant before he answered. "No, Emrick he wouldn't, but I worked under the federal system when I made arrests. It's not a fair comparison."

"Don't it piss you off?"

Bowman slowed the car. "No, they did things the way they have to. It wasn't either the best or worst thing that could've happened. The city can get back to normal now, whatever that is, and the Porter's can deal with their grief. All thanks to you."

Emrick beamed as he looked at the road ahead, apparently denying the presence of water on either side of the bridge. He abruptly turned to Bowman and asked: "What woulda been the best thang?"

Bowman looked ahead and picked up speed. "Good question, I guess if some hot shot patrolman forced the guy to wield his knife in the presence of witnesses. Then he could've justified doing away with the problem once and for all. He's dangerous and out of control. No one would question that deadly force was appropriate. The patrolman would be honored and his quick rise through the ranks would be assured. The bad guy wouldn't be living a miserable existence in that swamp where he's still a danger to innocent people."

"What woulda been the worst thang?"

Bowman waited to answer until he crossed the last bridge and pulled over and stopped on the roadside, leaving the motor and air conditioner running. He turned to Emrick. "That's easy. The worst result for all concerned would be if the guy had been arrested. The Porters would never find peace. The case would not make it to a trial because no judge would ever rule that this guy could assist in his own defense. The guy would be taken to some mental hospital, locked in a cage and shot full of drugs. Best he could hope for would be to spend the rest of his life as a zombie. Of course, there's always the chance that he would escape. In fact, I'd bet on it. In that event, there'd likely be more people killed.

He turned back to the wheel and made his way to the highway.

He felt Emrick fidgeting next to him. "Go ahead and ask me," he said without taking his eyes off the road.

"What do you think's gonna happen to him?

"Odds are he'll be shot by some store owner, hunter or law enforcement officer. It's just a matter of time. That's really not the question though, it's how many people are goin' to be hurt or killed by him before that happens. Hey man, we're away from all that now; let's talk about something else."

"Okay, where ya' goin' when ya' drop me off?"

"After I straighten out any mess I may have left at the Clark's house, I'm turnin' around and goin' straight back to New Orleans. I'm gettin' on a big airplane and headin' north."

"Gonna see yo' girl, huh."

"Yeah, sometime in the next few days, I'll be layin' in my sweet baby's arms."

"Been a long haul, ain't it?"

"Yes, it has. It has indeed."

"You nevah tole me what she look like."

Bowman pictured Annie in his mind. "Well, with high heels on she's a little shorter than you. Barefooted, she's probably about five feet six or seven. She has blond hair, doesn't color it or anything. In fact, you can see silver hairs all through it. She wears it on her shoulders. Sometimes she puts some kind of junk on it that makes it kinky and curly. I can't stand that, but it's the only thing I don't like about her. Anyway, if she knows I'm comin', she brushes all that out and it looks good again. If she wants to be ugly in front of other folks, that's all right with me." Bowman continued driving, but his eyes gazed into the distance.

"Her eyes are the prettiest blue I ever saw. They're alive and full of expression. I don't even have to ask any questions to know exactly what she's thinkin'. Her eyes tell everything."

Emrick looked over at him. "Is she pretty?"

Bowman smiled and dropped his shoulders. "She's more than pretty. I don't mean she's beautiful like a movie star, but I guess she could be. I really don't like to think of her like that. Then I'd be wonderin' what she's doin' hangin' aroun' with me."

"Well, she fat or skinny."

"She's skinny in the waist, but nowhere else."

"Got big tits, huh?"

"There's plenty there, but not so much it gets in the way."

"How bout her butt?"

"She's not nearly 'bout as big as Earline. Not even close, but I'll tell ya' you don't have to worry 'bout scrapin' your balls on the sheet."

Emrik's eyes filled with tears as he covered his mouth with his hands and giggled. Bowman thought, his tickle box is turned over. For the remainder of the trip, Bowman entertained himself when things quieted down by looking over into Emrick's eyes with a knowing smile. Emrick's reaction was automatic. He covered the left side of his face with his hand, before doubling up in laughter.

Passing through Baton Rouge, Bowman left the highway searching for a shopping mall.

"What'cha doin' now?" Emrick asked.

"I thought I'd buy a little somethin' for Miz Clara. She's the one who helped us pull this thing off."

"Tha' ole woman don' need nuthin'."

"I'm not buyin' it because she needs it. I just want to get her somethin'."

"Think tha' money's jes' burnin' a hole in ya pocket."

Bowman's only smiled as he left the car. In the mall he found a perfume counter and asked the clerk to recommend a fragrance that had been on the market for a long time. He sampled several and selected White Shoulders.

"Perfume or cologne," the clerk asked.

"Definitely perfume, and could I get it gift wrapped. Something understated, but impressive?"

She directed him to another section of the store.

Bowman returned to the car carrying a small plastic bag. Emrick looked and shook his head.

When they arrived in Woodville, he parked in front of a bank and said to Emrick: "There's one more order of business we have to attend to."

Emrick looked at him questioningly.

"Come on," Bowman said. "We've got to open an account for you so you can cash your check."

"Hell man, I don't know nuthin' bout no bank, an' I ain't got no money." Emrick frowned.

"You do now. The mayor gave you a reward of seven thousand and five hundred dollars for the part you played in catchin' the bad guy. Once the bank gets the money for the check, you can come down here and draw out a little spendin' money when you need it.

Bowman couldn't believe the absence of reaction in his friend's usually expressive face. But once inside, his chest swelled when Bowman bragged about Emrick's key role in identifying the child's killer in New Orleans. The banker agreed to assist him if he had problems in making out his checks and joined Bowman in reassuring Emrick that he could have his money anytime he wanted it, once the check cleared. Emrick showed no enthusiasm over talk of his account growing with accumulating interest.

They left the bank quietly. It finally occurred to Bowman that Emrick had no concept of of several thousand dollars, much less a check. Perhaps he should have arranged to cash the check in New Orleans and turn over a sack full of small bills. No matter, he'll probably do that himself in a couple of weeks. Heck, it's his money.

They went to Mrs. Fremont's house after dropping Emrick's clothes at his mother's home. Emrick, who appeared fine up to this time, was suddenly slower in his movements. Bowman noticed him wince when he climbed from the car seat, then preceded him into the rear of the house where Miz Emma greeted him. She grabbed him around the waist as he entered the door and hugged him hard enough to hurt him.

Bowman couldn't believe anyone so scrawny could be so powerful.

"I got him home safe and sound, Miz Emma, but go easy on his ribs and chest. He had a little accident, but he's goin' to be fine. You can be real proud of him. He did a wonderful job. I don't know how much you know about the guy who killed that little boy in New Orleans, but Emrick was the one who spotted him and called our attention to him. If it hadn't been for him, I'd still be down there runnin' around in circles. Bringing her fingers to her lips, Emma's eyes widened. Mrs. Fremont stood at an inner door with a faint smile and raised eyebrows.

"Miz Clara," he said. "I wonder if I could talk with you a minute while they're greetin' one another?"

"Certainly, Mr. Bowman."

He followed her to the parlor.

"It's a little difficult to believe you were entirely honest with Emma, Mr. Bowman."

"Yes, ma'am, I was. He was a big help to me."

She looked at him questioningly and said: "Well I'm very glad your little experiment in salvation was not a disaster."

"So am I, Miz Clara, so am I. I wonder if you would consider me impetuous if I bought you a gift?"

"Hardly impetuous, Mr. Bowman." She admired the wrapping and opened the gift. "White Shoulders, what a wonderful selection. It brings back memories."

"I'm very glad that you like it, Miz Clara."

"I sense that we won't be seeing much more of you, Mr. Bowman."

"No, ma'am, I think not. I'll go by the Clark"s home, remove that recliner off the balcony and try to leave the place as I found it. Then I'll be gone."

"I take it you've overcome your goblins?"

"If not, at least a shaky peace. I didn't realize I was so transparent."

"Transparent is about as inaccurate a description of you as was impetuous. It was the circumstances that were transparent."

Miz. Clara, I wonder if I might call you on the telephone ever so often, just to check on you and the Powells."

"I would be honored."

"No, ma'am, it's I who is honored."

"Mr. Bowman, there is something that has puzzled me. You react to me with warmth and friendship, yet your language is sometimes quite formal when you talk with me. It occurs to me that you look on me as a relic of past times and grand traditions."

"Absolutely not a relic, Miz. Clara. A treasure."

"I'll take your comments as a compliment, but I do hate to be thought of in that way. I often think everyone will be happier when those traditions have passed."

"I don't feel that way, Miz. Clara. I don't agree with that at all." As he left he bowed and kissed her left hand, then covered it with his own.

"Thank you, Miz. Clara."

"You are most welcome, Mr. Bowman."