From her desk, Eula watched the unexpected shower that was darkening the scattering of dry brown leaves along the prison road. Frowning, she turned to the report that lay next to her phone. Damn it. What a rotten present this was.
When the call came from the infirmary, her voice was sharp and impatient. “And prisoner Marlow? Good. Keep me advised after you conclude the procedure. Yes. Immediately. Thank you, doctor. Have Officer Claybourne report to me when you’re done.” The rain was spattering the windows, driven by a rising wind, and she worried about the drive home later. But first was this near-disaster in the mess hall.
When Lucas knocked, she told him brusquely to come in, and eased back in her chair. He paused, then stepped briskly to her desk, removed his hat, and stood at attention. Eula stared at the bandage on his cheek in silence.
“Officer Claybourne, do you know why you are here?” “Yes, ma’am.”
“Yes, Sergeant.” Her voice was metallic.
Lucas flushed. “Yes, Sergeant.”
“And how long have you been a corrections guard at Parchman, Claybourne?”
“Five months, three weeks, Sergeant.”
“After five months no guard of mine should have the problem that you have right this minute. The problem that I have right this minute.” She held up the report. “What happened in the mess hall today will not happen again, Officer Claybourne. Not ever on my watch.” She returned the report to the desk. “Not ever while you are in my charge. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“Good. At ease, Claybourne. Sit down.” Eula pulled a yellow pad from her desk, unscrewed a fountain pen, and shoved them both across the desk to Luke. “I want a complete statement from you on everything that happened this noon in the mess hall. Everything that was said. Everything that was done. And it’s important that it be exactly right because there were witnesses.” She leaned forward, her face inches from Claybourne. “If Marlow loses his eye, and the doctor says he may, this could be very serious for you and for me.” She sat back in her chair and studied his face. “The doctor said you needed ten stitches and were very lucky. How did it start?”
He perched on the edge of his seat and met her angry eyes. “The prisoners at the table said it started when Big Al Marlow accused Sammy Bones of stealing his barbecue. There was a lot of hollering and I ran over from my end of the hall to see what was going down. It was just before the end of my shift and I didn’t want any trouble. When I reached the table, Marlow had Bones in a chokehold and was pulling a shiv out of his sock. ‘I’m gonna carve your lyin’ face like a slab of barbecue.’ I pounded on the table with my billy club and told him to let Bones go and give up the shiv. ‘I’m giving the orders,’ I said. ‘Let him go!’”
“And what happened?”
“He shoved Bones away and tried to grab my billy. He laughed at me and waved the shiv, showing off for the men at the table. ‘Come and get it, you—’” Lucas paused, his eyes searching Eula’s.
“All of it.” Her words were staccato. “I want to hear all of it.”
Lucas swallowed and moistened his lips. “He said, ‘Come and get it, you honky motherfucker. Your wife good pussy for the niggers that worked on your farm? Come on, honky! Come on!’”
“And what did you do? Exactly, Claybourne. What did you do?”
“I said, ‘No son of a bitch has ever called me a honky motherfucker before, and you’re the last one that ever will.’ And that’s when he tried to cut me. I ducked, he caught the side of my cheek, and I nailed the bastard twice with my club. He started bleeding and he dropped on the table. That’s when the other officers came running up.”
“And that’s all?”
Claybourne nodded. “They took me and Marlow to the Infirmary.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, it looks worse than it feels. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Luke stared out the window, seeing something beyond the icy rain. “Marlow is bad news, Sergeant.”
“I know. Remember I warned you about prisoners like Marlow.” Eula’s voice had softened. “Five months ago.”
Luke nodded. “I remember, and I’ve been keepin’ an eye on Marlow, but he didn’t cause me any trouble until today.”
“But today you didn’t follow the book, Claybourne. The minute you spotted trouble, you should have been blowing your whistle for backup. Parchman backup. You allowed it to become a one-on-one situation that could have ended in a riot. We can’t have one-on-one in Parchman. We sure as hell can’t have black and white in Parchman. We can only have the Parchman way, and you’re being paid to do it the Parchman way. And you can’t allow it to become personal, to lose it when a prisoner calls you a honky motherfucker. He’s probably been called nigger his whole sorry life. Personal won’t cut it here.”
The room had darkened. Eula rose and walked to the door and closed it. She turned to face Lucas, “This conversation is off the record, Lucas. It never took place.” She returned to her desk. “I care about you and Willy and that’s why I want to ask you, are you sure you want to do this? This is not like giving orders and running the plantation.”
Luke remained silent, looking at his hands. “No, Sergeant. I’m not at all sure I want to do this.” He raised his eyes to face her. “But it’s what I can do. I don’t have many choices. I’ve got Willy and the kids. And when I looked around, this was all there was.”
“It can’t have been easy to come here and find I was to be your boss.”
“It wasn’t. At first it wasn’t.” He smiled. “But you know what Willy said when I told her? She said, ‘It’s only right. That’s the way it should be.’” He chuckled. “That’s the way ‘born-agains’ think, I guess. Maybe I agree with her.”
Eula was startled. “Born-again? Willy Claybourne is a born-again Christian?”
“It happened after we lost the place. When the bottom dropped out, we were so damn lost. Tell you the truth, when she said she found Jesus it was like a door opened for her. I didn’t have a clue what she was finding, still don’t. But she changed. Says she wants to pay back. It eats at her.” His eyes searched Eula’s. “Why does she think she owes?”
Eula smiled. “Willy Claybourne.” Her eyes drifted to the window. “I miss her. She has a lot of talent, and she’ll find a way. But what about you, Lucas? You might think about moving on. Delta State has wonderful new courses in aquaculture, and you’re a smart man. You could probably ace those courses.”
“Smart? Yeah, I was too smart to go to Ole Miss when I could have.” His jaw tightened. “I inherited a plantation and didn’t need to know anything other than how to make a cotton crop. Lotta good that does me now.”
Eula moved to the door. “Think about Delta, Luke. It might be just the ticket.”
Luke joined her. “Thank you, Sergeant. Christ knows I could use a ticket.” He laughed. “Christ knows—Jesus, I sound just like Willy!”