CHAPTER 28
“It’s attempted murder!” I told them after Meriwether left. “Lucas can’t just get away with it. You gotta do something. She’s just a little girl. At least you gotta fire him!”
“Go on to bed . . . This was not for your eyes and ears,” Daddy said.
“Why . . . ’cuz it’s the truth?” I asked.
“No, ’cause you’re just a boy.”
“Am not . . . In some places, I’d practically be a man.”
“This ain’t some places, this is Birdsong, South Carolina, and in Birdsong, South Carolina, you’re still a child. I’ll handle this.”
Standing right in front of him, almost eye to eye, I glared. “Hope so.”
“Go on to bed now, b’fore this turns into something it shouldn’t,” Daddy commanded.
Mama patted my shoulder. “Go on, Gabriel. G’night.”
“It ain’t right and it ain’t fair, and don’t tell me it’s just the ways of the South. Y’all ever figure the ways of the South are wrong? Y’all ever figure the ways of the South need changin’? Y’all ever figure—”
“That’s enough for right now, Gabriel. We’re all tired. Got a workday tomorrow and now all this,” Daddy said with a sigh. “G’night.”
Hours later, I was still wide awake, staring into the darkness, questions coming at me, one after the other, unable to find answers.
Was it because of the picture and finding out about Meriwether being a tanker that had made Lucas do it, or had he been planning this all along? Unless he confessed, there was no way to know. Nothing about this was fair or just. How could it be that a man can’t protect his family—and even feared going to the sheriff?
One thing I was certain of was this: if Lucas had had even a sprinkling of Meriwether’s goodness, I’d be sleeping soundly right now. How could anyone do such a thing? Over and over again, I pictured Abigail, the diamondback striking at her with its fangs prepared to deliver its deadly venom, and the image made my body quiver.
FINALLY, I DOZED off, and it was well after sunrise when the sound of Patrick’s voice outside woke me up. “Gabriel! Gabriel! You awake? I’m here to ride to work with your daddy.”
I parted the curtains and motioned him to the back door. And that was when the front doorbell rang again. Daddy, already up and dressed, beat me to the door. Mama trailed him.
I expected to see Meriwether again, but this time it was Sheriff Monk and his deputy, J. J. Carroway. Because everything about the sheriff was round, especially his belly, and J. J. was a slender man, whenever they were side by side, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Laurel and Hardy.
“Mornin’, Sheriff, J . J.”
“Mornin’, Jake . . . Agatha.”
As soon as Patrick saw them, he joked, “What’s wrong? Someone get murdered or somethin’?”
Sheriff Monk glanced from Patrick to me and said, “We came to have a private talk with your daddy ’n’ mama.”
“In other words, you want me and Gabriel to scram, huh?” Patrick asked.
The sheriff nodded, and I thought I saw a hint of a smile on J. J. Carroway’s lips.
“If it’s about Meriwether and Lucas, I wanna stay,” I told Daddy.
“Did they finally have a fight?” Patrick asked. “’Cuz that day when Lucas spit tobacco on his foot, it sure looked like they were ’bout to, remember?”
That comment seemed to turn on a light inside Sheriff Monk. He and J. J. shared a look. “The boys can stay,” he decided.
Of course, Mama welcomed everyone to the dining room table and offered the men coffee, which they accepted.
“What can I help you gentlemen with?” Daddy asked.
“Not sure I’m a gentleman, Jake, and I know for certain J. J. ain’t, but that aside, we’re here to ask y’all a few questions ’bout a visit I got first thing this mornin’ at the office from Miss Felicity Duval.”
“Felicity Duval?” Daddy asked.
“Found her on my doorstep at six a.m. Said she had a story to tell ’bout somethin’ disturbin’ to her that went on last night on The Other Side . . . with a colored family. Claims someone left a box on the porch for the family’s li’l gal and that the box contained a large diamondback rattler. Not sure how she got hold of it, but she brought me the thing in a potato sack, includin’ the chopped-off head.”
“It was dead, of course,” J. J. commented as he stirred the coffee Mama had given him.
“A diamondback? They’s deadly!” Patrick exclaimed.
“Anyhow, seems Miss Duval gives piano lessons to the gal, name is . . .” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a wad of papers, and searched.
“Abigail,” Daddy told him. “Girl’s name is Abigail.”
“Like I was sayin’, Miss Duval gives her piano lessons now and then, and she’s fond of her and was quite upset about this incident with the diamondback.”
“You said you had questions, Hector . . . and I need to get to work,” Daddy said.
“And me too,” Patrick added. “I need to get to work with him. I’m an apprentice mechanic now.”
The sheriff cleared his throat. “Just wanna know if you have any ideas who the responsible party might be.”
As if to warn me not to speak, Mama gently squeezed my shoulder. “Didn’t Miss Duval say?” she asked.
“No ma’am. That seemed to be the one bit of information she was lackin’, which was a surprise to me, because generally she seems to know folks’ business even b’fore they know it themselves.” The sheriff gave a grim smile.
“If the snake didn’t bite her, isn’t it still attempted murder because that’s what was intended?” I asked.
“You’d be best to try and sell more cars, Jake. Think you might have to send this boy to law school,” J . J. said.
“Y’all certain you don’t have any clues about who might have done such a thing?” Sheriff Monk asked again. “Like to be able to give an answer to Miss Duval and to the colored pastor if he comes callin’, which I’m sure he will.”
“You talked to Meriwether yet?” my daddy asked.
“No . . . Planned to talk to him sometime this afternoon. Thought I’d stop here first b’fore talkin’ to the boy . . . you know, get your impression of things.”
“Can’t bring myself to accuse a man without proof,” Daddy answered.
With that, Sheriff Hector Monk took a big gulp of coffee, pushed away from the table, and stood up. “I’d like to thank you fine folks for your time and good coffee,” he said as he headed for the door. But before he and J. J. reached the door, he stopped in his tracks and turned to Daddy. “Got one more question for you, Jake.”
“What’s that?”
“Lucas and this boy, Meriwether, would you say they get along?”
Daddy replied with his own question. “How well do you know Lucas, Hector?”
“Well enough.”
“Then you already have the answer to your question.”