Summer of the Redeemers (16 page)

The deputy and his friend were chuckling at something else he said. Part of the counter swung up and revealed a door. I knew how it worked because Mr. Wickham had shown me. While the deputy was half watching me, I lifted up on the countertop with all of my strength.

The wood, though heavy, swung up easily on well-oiled hinges. When I had it about halfway up, I felt a sudden resistance followed by a yelp of pain. I gave it an extra heave and it broke free of whatever was holding it. I didn’t realize I’d hit the deputy until I’d swung it wide open and was rushing through. When I looked back, I saw the deputy grabbing his nose. Blood gushed out from between his fingers. I ran as hard as I could. The door out of the office was unlocked, and I pushed through it and ran to the outside door. In a few seconds I was sprinting across the jail yard.

“Mama!”

My cry caught the attention of the milling crowd outside the fence.

“Hey! Hey, you!” Several men in the crowd challenged me. “You, girl! Get out of there.”

“Effie! Mama! Mama!” I had to find her before the men with the rifles came to stop me.

“Bekkah?”

The voice that answered me was incredulous. “Rebekah?”

“I’m down here, Mama. I came to help you.”

There was the slightest pause. Behind me the crowd was pushing toward the fence. Fingers laced into the chain link and the crowd surged. For a moment it looked as if the fence would give.

“Rebekah Brighton Rich, what are you doing here in this jail?”

“I came to be with you, Mama. Mrs. Welford brought me.”

“Emily Welford hasn’t got the sense of a runover dog.”

Mama’s voice was coming from one of the barred windows, but I couldn’t tell which one. The crowd outside the fence was growing louder. It buzzed, sort of like an insect. Occasionally someone’s voice would rise above the hum and say something about nigger lovers. It was only men talking. None of the women said anything.

“Must be nigger-loving runs in the family,” someone yelled.

I turned to look at the crowd. Shock must have registered on my face because there was a sudden tiny silence. I couldn’t believe I saw Mr. Sargeant, the butcher-shop owner with a rifle. He still had on his apron smeared with blood. And there was Theo Fontaine, who ran the Western Auto where Arly and I got new bicycles for Christmas every four or five years. They were looking at me like I was something terrible. I turned back to the old red brick wall. “Mama, why are you in jail?”

“According to Joe, for my own protection.”

Effie was pissed off in a big-time kind of way. I couldn’t believe Sheriff Wickham had put her in jail, but he had. And when she got out, he was going to pay.

“Mama, let’s go home.” There were four windows on the bottom and four on top. I was having to talk loud for her to hear me, and I thought her voice was coming from the upper right-hand window, just above me. Sure enough, she stuck her hand out through the bars.

“Bekkah, get out of this yard and back inside the courthouse. Just wait in the sheriff’s office for me. I can’t leave here until some of the people from Hattiesburg get here.”

“I’m not leaving here without you.” I’d expected the men with rifles to run me out of the jail yard, but they were too intent on watching the crowd. The insect noise had increased. The air hummed all around me.

“Rebekah!”

Mama’s hand pointed down at me.

I didn’t see the glass until it struck the dirt at my feet. It was heavy and green, a vicious jag from a 7-Up bottle. Part of it had a dark stain on it. When I bent down to look at it, another spatter of red fell on my hand. I looked up and saw the blood on Effie’s arm.

“That’s for you, you nigger-loving bitch!”

The voice that came out of the crowd was young. It was taut with fury, a boy’s voice breaking with emotion. I searched the crowd and no one would look back. The hum had stilled. There was only silence. When I looked back up at the window, Effie’s arm was gone. There was a streak of blood on the bricks at the windowsill.

Fifteen

M
HE
twenty-seven stitches in Effie’s arm brought Daddy home.

The university paid for his flight. Mama Betts said they were courting him hard. She said that like an anxious groom they were willing to buy anything to win his favor. That wasn’t true. Daddy had already told them he wasn’t going to stay there and work for them. I tried to tell her that, but she wasn’t inclined to listen. She was too upset over Effie, her own one-time baby. The shock of someone hurting Effie was almost too much for Mama Betts to take in. She was also upset that she’d been home on Kali Oka when it all happened. In Effie’s hour of need, Mama Betts felt like she’d let her down. Of course that wasn’t true. Had Mama Betts been there, nothing would have gone differently.

The ruckus at the jail died down shortly after Effie was carried out by ambulance. She lost a lot of blood real fast. No one in the crowd really wanted to hang around once they realized she’d been cut bad. A few people, including the deputy, grumbled that she’d gotten what she deserved. Mostly they just sort of drifted away, one or two at a time, until there wasn’t anyone left standing outside the fence. When the ambulance got there, it drove right to the jail. They carried Effie out on a stretcher, and I rode in the ambulance with her to the hospital. There wasn’t a sign of Emily and Jamey Louise. For that I was thankful.

Daddy’s flight came in that night, and Arly and I rode with Effie to get him. Even though it was against the law, Effie let Arly drive.

Her arm hurt, and she was sick to her stomach. The doctor had wanted to keep her at the hospital, but she was so mean he finally let her go.

Once Daddy got off the plane and slid behind the wheel, my whole world started feeling better. Arly was in the backseat with me, where he belonged, and Mama and Daddy were together.

“You did a brave thing,” Daddy said to Effie as we headed down the dark road to Jexville. The traffic was sparse, and there were long passages of time when there was only the glow of the dash to illuminate the car.

“I only intended to go there until the defense lawyers from Hattiesburg could arrive.”

“You made the effort, though, Effie. You stood up for what you believe.”

“And it shouldn’t have been a big deal. Every man deserves a trial. Why is that so hard for those people to understand?”

“ ‘Cause he’s a nigger,” Arly piped in. I could tell by his voice that he wasn’t being smart-alecky. He was trying to explain it to Effie. I also knew he was in for it now.

“I didn’t realize that was a word my son used,” Mama said softly.

“Well, that’s what folks are saying.” Arly’s voice was edgy. He knew he’d stepped in it. “I don’t normally say that word, but that’s what folks are saying and that’s why they don’t think he deserves a trial.”

“And what does my son think?” Effie asked.

“Let it go tonight, Effie,” Daddy said softly. “We’re all tired. The children have been scared to death. No one’s thinking right.”

“I’ve got twenty-seven stitches in my arm because someone disagreed with my views. And my child is in the backseat of our car aping the words and attitudes of the type person who cut me.”

The more she talked, the higher her voice went. She’d held back in the hospital. It was all about to boil out and burn us.

“Arly didn’t mean anything,” I said. “It’s what people are saying. Jamey Louise said the same thing to me today.”

“Jamey Louise is a moron. I expect better from my children.”

“We know better, Mama. Arly just slipped up.” I wasn’t in the habit of defending him, but I wanted everything to be good. Daddy was home. I didn’t want any fighting. What got started between Mama and Arly could carry over to Mama and Daddy. It had happened before. In the back of my head I remembered the past week in Missouri. Me
and Daddy and Cathi hadn’t argued for a minute. That scared me. I kicked Arly as hard as I could in the shin. His fingers dug into my arm, and it was all I could do not to cry out.

“Apologize, you idiot,” I whispered.

“For what?”

“For saying nigger in front of Effie.”

Arly’s grip loosened. “Mama, I didn’t mean to say that word. It slipped out because I’ve heard it so much today.”

Mama’s sob was so sudden and unexpected that nobody said anything. It sounded like it tore her throat.

“Mama, I’m really sorry.” Arly was worried. “I won’t say it again. Ever.”

Daddy’s arm drew Mama across the seat until she was nestled against his side. He spoke softly to her in words I didn’t quite hear, but it seemed to help. Arly and I sat back. The rest of the ride was in silence. By the time we got to Kali Oka, Effie was sound asleep and no one wanted to wake her.

Alice was waiting for me the next morning. I didn’t tell that I knew her mother had slapped her. It would only have made Alice feel worse. She had Maebelle V. strapped in the papoose-like carrier on her back. She’d ridden her bicycle the short distance through the woods and was parked, ready to ride, at the edge of our yard.

“Let’s go to the Redeemers,” she said before I could even say hi. I looked at her like she was crazy.

“Why?”

“Old Doc McMillan had to go down there the Monday after you left. We saw his car. He’s gone back every day. Somebody’s bad sick.”

It was nearly me. I had the horrible idea that maybe they’d beaten Magdeline to near death. Looking at Alice, I could see she was feeling the same thing.

“It ain’t her,” I said. “There’s a hundred people living down there, and most of the boys look wormy. It could be any one of them.”

“I want to make sure. If it’s the girl, then we’re to blame.”

“Stop it, Alice! We’re not to blame. We didn’t make her stand up and confess to fornicating. And we didn’t make them hit her, if they did. They do what they want to do. We just happened to see it.”

The trouble with my argument was that I knew Alice was right.

We were to blame. Or more rightly, I was to blame. Alice would have gone to the police and admitted eavesdropping and spying. I was the one who wouldn’t do it.

“Let’s ride down there and look.”

“I don’t know.” I wanted to go down there, but I was worried about Effie. Her arm was swollen, and Daddy was putting compresses on it. He’d called a doctor in Mobile, and they were going over there for a consultation. “Mama’s pretty sick.”

Alice looked at the ground. “I’m sorry she got cut. Why’d she have to go to that jail anyway?”

I shrugged. “She said it was the right thing to do.”

“It might have been right, but she could have gotten killed. It’s strange, but grown-ups do that kind of thing all the time. Then when we try to do it, we get in trouble.”

She was dead right. “I’ll get my bicycle. We’ll just ride on down there and see what we can see. Maybe we’ll see the girl playing and we can come home in peace.”

“That would be wonderful,” Alice said. Her smile was thin. “I’ve been worried crazy. I could hardly wait for you to come home. I almost went over to your house and got Mama Betts to dial you, but I was afraid she’d listen in and get us both in trouble.”

“I missed you, Alice. And we’re not going to move away. Not ever.”

The sun broiled down hotter than ever on Kali Oka Road. The green hills of Missouri were a fading memory as I gave myself to the heat and red dirt of my home. After a week of not knowing where anything was, of being dependent on someone else to take me everywhere, I was home. I could get anywhere I needed to be on my bicycle or on foot. I had Picket at my side, and Alice as my best friend. Even Maebelle V. wasn’t much of a bother.

Kali Oka seemed shorter than it ever had before. We were at Cry Baby Creek before I got good and winded. Alice was blowing hard, though, and Maebelle V., in the basket of my bike, seemed a little rattled by the fast ride. I got her out and was surprised to see that she’d grown much heavier. She was also straining her head up and grabbing hold of things with her hands. Pretty soon she’d be trying to crawl, and she was already making a lot of different noises. Too many and too much.

During my stay in Missouri I had Cathi take me to a pet store, and
I bought a leash. Alice and I left the bicycles a long way from the creek, and I put Picket on the leash and took her with me. Maebelle V. was in her papoose, cooing and drooling all over Alice’s back.

The closer we got to the church, the harder it was for me to breathe. I hadn’t told Alice about the 7-Up bottle. I’d sort of buried that thought from myself.

“What are we going to do?” Alice asked.

We’d gotten off in such a hurry, I didn’t even have a plan. It was Monday, so there likely wouldn’t be a church service. We could wade down the creek until we stumbled across someone or something. That seemed like a waste of time, though. I kicked at a stick floating by in the creek. “I don’t know how to get to the girl and check on her. We could just walk up, I suppose.”

“Yeah, sure.” Alice eased the papoose around to her front and took the baby out. Maebelle V. chirped with delight at the feel of the cool water on her legs as Alice dangled her in it.

The truth of the matter was that I didn’t know what to do. Since it wasn’t a Sunday, those Redeemers could be anywhere in the area. They wouldn’t be all gathered up in church for our convenience to spy on. I’d been listening close, and there wasn’t a sound of the boys, even though we weren’t all that far from the place where they’d begun their fort. With no better plan, the fort seemed the best place to start.

We waded along in the creek. I couldn’t help but remember the summer before—before the Redeemers and before Maebelle V.—Alice and I had dreamed together back then. Now it had changed, and I couldn’t put my finger on exactly how. Everything had changed. Part of it was Missouri, and even part was a green 7-Up bottle flying through the air and blood dripping in the dirt. Part of it was a singing girl and too many secrets.

When the boys’ fort was across the creek from us, we stopped. There wasn’t a sound in the woods except for the small animals and birds hustling about their business.

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Alice asked out loud.

“Good lord, no.” I asked Picket to sit beside me as I sank into the creek. She was straining at the leash. Squirrels danced on the rim of the bank, tempting her almost beyond endurance and the strength of my arm to hold her. At least she didn’t bark.

“You think she’s hurt, don’t you?” Alice sank into the cold rush of water beside me.

I did, but I didn’t want to say it out loud. I didn’t want to think about it. “We didn’t even go to the water slide. Last summer we wouldn’t have missed a day. Now June is half over.”

“Bekkah, what are we going to do?”

“What do you want us to do, march in there and demand to see a girl named Magdeline?” Instead of angry, I was tired.

“Let’s find that chubby boy, Georgie. He could tell us where his sister is.”

“Like he would if they’ve killed her. The Redeemers are a sect, Alice. They do everything together. They’d never go against their leader. Mama Betts said they’re almost as bad as a cult. None of them even have jobs, that we know of.”

Sand was slipping under the elastic of my underwear. My sneakers had already filled with it. The current was so shallow and fast that it moved over my lower body with a relentless power that suddenly made me even tireder. I didn’t want to take on the Redeemers. Effie getting her arm cut had done something to me. Those folks outside the jail, they’d changed me. If the Redeemers had done something terrible to Magdeline, what could I do about it? The answer was nothing.

“I’m going to take a look,” Alice said. She thrust Maebelle V. at me and churned off down the creek. I held the baby, dangling her feet in the water and then pulling them out, until Alice disappeared from sight. Maebelle V. and I sat for another five minutes before I got up and started after Alice. It wasn’t fair to make her go by herself. She was always going with me.

It didn’t take me long to catch up, and I know she heard me splashing behind her even though she didn’t turn around.

“I’m not afraid,” I said as I touched her shoulder.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“You think I am, though.”

“I think you’re different.” She shook her head and made her ponytail jiggle. “We both are, I suppose.”