Gone Fishin’ er-6 Page 11

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Reese Corn was a solitary man in his last years. He didn’t come much to Ethiopia Baptist Church. And those of you who don’t have faith,’ and Reverend Peters looked out over the congregation, ‘might say that he had lost the way of the Lord. But brother Reese didn’t lose his way. He knew death was comin’ an’ on his last Sunday in the world Reese came back to the Lord.’

  ‘Amen,’ Mouse said. He was standing next to the open coffin, his gloved hands folded before him. He wore a spotless black suit with a black tie and an ivory-white shirt. I never did know where he found that outfit.

  ‘Yes, he came to the Lord at the last moment, but you know that’s enough for Jesus.’ He surveyed us again. ‘All Jesus needs is for you to look his way an’ he’s gonna save your soul. That’s why we’re here; to be saved. All’a you here today are alive but you’re gonna have to face it too. Yes you are. Every one of you in this room is going to have his moment of reckoning and her moment of reckoning and in that moment you will have to take Jesus to your heart, or you will perish.’

  I thought of Reese’s dogs and went cold somewhere; that one spot in my heart has never kindled again.

  ‘I believe that in his final moments Reese Corn opened his heart and he was saved.

  ‘You all knew Reese. Miss Alexander was his sister-in-law. Nine years ago we laid her loving sister to rest.’

  Miss Alexander sat next to me. Her eyes were dry and there was a slight smile on her face.

  ‘You know when Reese’s wife died,...’ Reverend Peters leaned his elbows upon the podium. ‘He was broken. You could see that he lost faith because he let his house fall into disrepair. He didn’t have any kind words to say because he felt that the Lord had abandoned him. He stopped saying good morning and left the church. He lived a lonely mean life out there on his farm, and who knows? Maybe that loneliness called out to the poor boy who followed him there. Maybe it was the Lord in his infinite wisdom calling Reese Corn home.’

  Ernestine started crying, and Jo folded the girl under her arm.

  ‘That boy was a messenger of the Lord, calling out. And once Reese came back to the Lord’s house that messenger was sent to Reese. Because everything we do is governed by God. If you wake up in the morning and hear the whippoorwill or if you meet a young girl and fall in love, that’s God workin’ on ya. If you find yourself full of strength choppin’ cotton on a beautiful Tuesday morning and you breathe in the sweet smell of earth, well you know the Lord is with you then.’ The minister held up his opened hands and stared into his palms, then he put them back down. ‘But when your babies get grippe and the life burns out of them before your eyes; when you tear at your clothes and beg God to take you instead; when you’re left in the room with a dead child innocent as can be — the Lord is with you then too.’

  ‘Yes Lord!’ the old woman, in the same raspberry dress, shouted.

  ‘Yes the Lord is a hard master! Because you know you cain’t raise a child right if you don’t raise your hand.’ He paused. ‘And we are the Lord’s chirrren. Reese and that boy Clifton were the Lord’s chirren. He’s called them home. And in callin’ them home he’s taught us a lesson; a hard lesson. In despair comes ruin, in despair comes ruin. Reese tore down his house. Yes he did. He knocked the what-do-you-call-em?’ He looked around as if there were someone there to answer. ‘Yeah, he knocked down the beams, the main beam of his house, and the walls fell in. The walls fell in on Reese and he turned his back on the Lord. There’s a lesson in that. I don’t know what happened to that boy Clifton. I hear that he was violent man, a man who lived by violence. It’s said, I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s said that he killed someone in Houston.’

  The minister looked up at the ceiling and shook his head as if he were arguing with the next words the Lord was putting in his mouth. Finally he returned his gaze to earth. ‘What is our lesson? That’s what you wanna know. What is God trying to say to me here today? Well... no one can truly understand the mind of God because the mind of God is what we call infinite. That means he’s everywhere. As far as you can go God is there. He’s at the bottom of the ocean and he’s way out past the moon and stars. He’s in this room right now, sittin’ next to ya. Reese is with him now, and if Reese could pierce the veil I think he’d say the lesson is the infinite forgiveness of the Lord...’

  The minister kept going in that vein but I was distracted by an amazing sight: There were tears streaming down Mouse’s face. He was crying outright. You’d think that real love was pouring out of his heart onto the floor at his dead stepfather’s feet. ‘What could it be?’ I thought, but no answer came.

  Miss Alexander leaned to my ear and whispered, ‘I want you t’com’on wit’ me when it’s over, Easy. I wanna make sure that bastard who kilt my sister is dead.’

  Those were the only words that crossed her lips about Reese. And it came to me that they were all happy to see him dead. The minister had remarked that it was ‘the Lord’s infinite mind that called his stepson back,’ to be there when Reese died.

  Reese was a hard man and an angry man. He had turned the whole world against him and no one cared to look beyond what seemed to be the story.

  It was told that Reese was out at his house when a fugitive from Houston came upon him to steal his money. The fugitive, Clifton, had heard that Reese was rich from Raymond Alexander who was coming to tell Reese about his coming marriage. Reese shot Clifton but Clifton managed to get his gun and shoot Reese before he died. Mouse came upon them when he’d come to tell Reese that he was returning to Houston.

  There was no money found.

  Big Jim, the colored deputy, was at the funeral, and I think he suspected that there was more to the story. But you don’t go doing police work for a colored killing when you got an answer lying cold at the back of the barber’s shop.

  Jim warned Mouse that Navrochet wouldn’t take it so easy. He said that Mouse’s stepbrother would wonder at how Clifton got to Pariah. But Mouse just smiled and shook his head.

  ‘...The Lord is with you, brothers and sisters... keep him in your hearts. Because no matter how hard you hurt, he will comfort you as he did brother Reese in his last moments. Amen.’

  ‘Amen,’ we all said.

  ‘Time t’go, Ease,’ Mouse said. We were standing in Miss Alexander’s general store. Everyone was there. There was homemade wine and cornbread and people from all over the county. Theresa was standing next to Mouse; she and Ernestine were the only ones who truly looked sad; they both lost men that day.

  ‘Yeah, I’m ready,’ I said. I couldn’t even look him in the eye.

  ‘Easy.’ Her voice came from behind me.

  ‘Yeah, Jo.’

  ‘I guess you ain’t comin’ back out here soon.’

  ‘I don’t know, Jo. You never can tell what might happen.’

  ‘Well I think me an’ Dom an’ Ernestine might be comin’ to the weddin’.’

  ‘You know I’ll be there.’ I looked up into her flat, dark eyes. She put her hand to my throat again.

  ‘Bye, Easy!’ Domaque yelled. He and Ernestine were standing dose together behind Jo.

  ‘Bye, Dom. I’ma start my readin’ soon as I get home.’

  Dom gave me a strong handshake and a crooked smile. He said, ‘Remember to make it in yo’ own words, Easy. That’s how ya do it.’

  The car had been moved to the edge of town by one of Mouse’s friends. He’d gotten the key from my pocket when I was sick. Raymond hefted the stuffed rucksack on his shoulder.

  ‘Weddin’ gifts,’ he said.

  I wondered if Theresa was coming to the wedding.

  Just before we left for the car Miss Alexander took me by the arm to an empty spot on the wooden sidewalk.

  ‘Easy, I’m” glad you’re feelin’ better...’

  ‘I been meanin’ t’thank you...’

  She waved her hand for me to keep quiet. ‘I feel bad that you ain’t seen us in a good light, Ezekiel. You know we was all glad to meet
you and have you with us. It’s always nice to meet one’a Raymond’s boyfriends, he got a real knack at gettin’ friends.’

  We shook hands and then she kissed me on the cheek.

  Sweet William and Mouse were standing next to the car when I got there. They were the same height and looked so much alike that you would have had to be blind not to see the relationship.

  I don’t think Mouse ever suspected that William was his father. Some men are just lucky.

  ‘Well, Easy, I guess you gonna get back to the city to rest from the country, huh?’ William smiled.

  ‘Yeah, you country people is too wild for me.’

  He shook my hand. The rest of them came up and waved to us; Theresa ran to the window and kissed Mouse on the lips.

  ‘She sure have grown,’ Mouse said to himself as we took off.

  It had been gray all morning but the drizzle didn’t start until we left Pariah. It wasn’t a rain that cleaned the leaves of dust but a mist that changed the dust to caked mud on everything. The whole world turned filthy and streaked.

  Mouse said some things to me but I ignored him for the most part. There was a weight on me. It seemed like the air was too heavy and that the trees along the road were so loose that any minute they’d crash down on us. My fingers felt thick and numb.

  Mouse was smoking store-bought cigarettes and whistling; you’d’ve thought the sun was shining on him.

  When we got to the main road the bugs came out. We smashed them by the dozens on the windshield. They exploded into blossoms of blood and body parts, then they slipped away into the thin film of drizzle. Every time we hit one I thought of Clifton, with his dour expression, sitting in the backseat; I thought of Reese on his knees in front of his broken house.

  There were dead animals in the road too. Armadillos, porcupines and even a couple of dogs. Cars ran them over in the night and kept on going.

  Their bodies were torn open and they still seemed to be bleeding because the rain had kept the blood fresh. Flesh burst from the fur like cotton from a ripped sofa.

  ‘Here ya go, Ease, maybe this brighten up yo’ face.’ Mouse put a fat envelope, folded from a sheet of newspaper, on the dashboard in front of me.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I might not be able t’read like ole Dom but I can count like anything,’ he said.

  Another time that might have gotten a rise out of me but those days were over.

  ‘Yeah,’ Mouse said. ‘I cain’t read but I can count to three hundred in my sleep.’

  I didn’t say a word. I wouldn’t even look at the envelope.

  ‘What’s wrong wichyou, man?’ he asked me.

  ‘Ain’t nuthin wrong.’

  ‘Then why you cain’t even talk?’

  ‘Ain’t got nuthin t’say, that’s all.’

  ‘Yeah. I know.’ He stared at me for a moment, then went on, ‘Easy, I want you t’take that money. It’s yours an’ it would be a insult t’me if you leave it lyin’ there fo’Otum t’take.’

  I said, ‘Where you get that money?’

  ‘Fount it.’

  ‘Fount it where?’

  ‘Out t’Reese’s place. I mean he got a will say ev’rything go to Navrochet. But you know he owed me sumpin’ so I just look at it like this here money I got is mines.’

  ‘How much was it?’

  He pointed to the envelope. ‘That there’s just a piece of it.’

  I was quiet again.

  ‘You wanna know what happened, huh?’ He was grinning at me.

  ‘I don’t wanna know nuthin’.’

  ‘Yeah you do. You think I did sumpin’ wrong, don’t you? You think I murdered Reese, don’t you?’

  Mouse sat back and put his foot on the dash. He was getting ready to tell me another story, but I had lost my love of his tales.

  ‘Ya see, Ease, it started wit’ Clifton. I knew he could he’p convince Reese about gettin’ up offa that money an’ I also knew that Ernestine was young enough and wild enough an’ she like Jo enough that she might give Dom a li’l pussy. You know Dom could use some’a that. So I went an’ tole Big Jim ‘bout what I knew ‘bout Clifton.’

  ‘You tole the law?’

  ‘Yeah, I can’t be lyin’ ‘round Jo ‘cause she so good she even got me. Anyway Clifton did beat that boy so it ain’t like I was lyin’ t’Jim. Only I didn’t tell Jim where Clifton was. Ya see, I’as givin’ him a chance.’

  ‘Uh-huh!’

  ‘I had Clifton buried out in the woods at night while I was layin’ up wit’ Theresa. I tole him that I was watchin’ for Jim. Clifton was so scared that he couldn’t even sleep. He’da done anything I said. So I warned ‘im that Big Jim was gonna get’im sooner or later unless he got far away, an’ then I tole him bout Reese’s money.

  ‘Ya see, I figgered we’d rob Reese, it was my due anyway. An’ Clifton went along wit’ it after some convincin’. I give Clifton a shotgun I borrowed from Sweet William. I tole Reese Clifton was a killer an’ we was gonna have it. He was a mess, Easy. He smelled from garlic, I guess he thought that would save him from voodoo. It was pitiful.’ There was glee in Mouse’s voice. ‘But I was gonna have that money. We put’im in that bamboo basket an’ told’im we was gonna shoot’im ‘less he climb outta there an’ show us to the money.’

  Mouse was savouring every moment of the torture. He really believed that he hadn’t done anything wrong.

  ‘But then that fool Clifton had to grab me an’ th’ow off my kick. If you’d hadn’ta run Reese down I’d be dead now. Shit. I’m lucky my gun landed near Clifton, ‘cause you know Reese woulda beat me t’death with that shotgun.’

  ‘An’ then you fount the money?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah.’ Mouse was staring out over the panorama of his brilliant future. He saw black-and-white dice through glasses of amber whiskey. He saw EttaMae in cashmere and silk. Somewhere there were children calling out, ‘Daddy.’ And all the while Reese lay in the ground, turning to sludge.

  ‘If you fount that money when he was dead, then why couldn’t you have fount it when he was packed in that box?’

  Mouse laid those cold eyes on me.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘You right.’

  ‘And I don’t believe it, Raymond.’

  ‘You’ont believe what?’

  ‘I don’t believe that Clifton shot Reese. That boy had his hands full tryin’ t’hold his guts in.’

  It was like I had forgotten who I was, and where I was; and who I was with. Maybe it was because I had a full stomach and I sat behind the wheel of a nice car. Maybe it was all that money up on the dashboard.

  For a moment there I thought that the truth was more important than the need to survive.

  Mouse winced and nodded. I realised that I had caught him in a lie.

  ‘You right,’ he said again.

  I turned away from his cold stare only to see the red blood of a fat bug smear across the windshield.

  ‘An’ that’s why I need ya t’take this here money, Ease.’ He pointed at the envelope again. ‘Because you the on’y one got my confidence. You the on’y one know why I come down here an’ you the on’y one know what happened. If you don’t take that money then I know you against me.’ He looked at me with a plain face.

  But this time that face wasn’t hiding laughter. His voice was the whisper of death, the slither of a snake over the nape of my neck.

  Death had always been a part of my life. He lived in my neighbourhood, in my apartment building, right next door to me. But I’d never worried about him coming knocking. I was innocent and I knew that I would live forever.

  But at that moment I realised that the wrong words would cut my life down to seconds or, at the most, just a few days. And I also knew that whatever I said would be my first words as a man in this world.

  I reached out for the bundle and said, ‘Thanks, Ray.’

  Mouse laughed and slapped my knee.

  I had survived again. I had risked my life to save Clifton only to fail. But I
had survived that failure. I was following in my father’s fleet footsteps: standing up when I couldn’t take any more and then running to fight another day.

  Mouse started telling me how hungry Theresa was for love. I didn’t care.

  When we saw Houston in the distance Mouse said, ‘You know, Easy, when I was standin’ there listenin’ t’Peters preach, somethin’ touched me, I don’t know if it was God or the devil or what, but it felt like all the pain and fear I ever known was gone. I been scared’a Reese day and night for my whole life and now he’s dead.’ A smile of pure joy spread across his face; tears sprouted from his eyes. ‘An’ I’ma be married and Fma be happy fo’ the rest’a my years.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Back in those days rent was two dollars a week and you could eat your fill on a quarter a day. I had three hundred dollars; I could’ve lived for more than a year on that.

  But I wasn’t careful. I bought a quart bottle of bourbon every other day and sat in that room, stinking and drinking. Most of the time I was too drunk to worry about it. But late at night the demons would come at me.

  I was a part of the murder of a man’s father. Me, Ezekiel Rawlins, the man who worried after his own father for years. It’s not that I cared for Reese but murder is a sin that burns your soul.

  And to help a man murder his father...

  People came to my door but I didn’t answer it. They’d knock and call my name but I’d lie in the bed and bite my pillow. I’d shut my eyes tight against the sound and finally they’d leave.

  Mouse would come to the door and call me. He’d rattle the doorknob and bang away. He talked to me as if he believed I was in, but I didn’t answer him. Our business was over with. There was nothing left to say.

  Even today, six years later, I feel guilt and fear. The same fear I had when I thought my father knew everything that I did wrong; every thought that I thought wrong.

  How could I have known? I asked myself.

  How can anyone hold me responsible for the death of that man and that boy?