Authors: Nancy L. Hart
Early Saturday morning Joey Frank went over to Ernie’s home and spent most of the day with him. As he walked home that evening, he noticed a large poster in black letters tacked to a big tree by the roadside. He went over to the tree and read the poster out loud. “Five thousand dollers re-ward now offered for the killer of Banker Tolbert.”
Joey Frank’s blood began to boil. He reached up, ripped the poster away from the tree and tore it into shreds. He threw the pieces of paper down onto the ground, and stomped them over and over again. He gritted his teeth and with the toes of his brogans he ground the particles down into the red clay. Tears came to his eyes, and he cried out audibly, “They didn’t nobody kill you, you danged ole fool. You went an’ killed yore crazy self a-tryin’ to kill me an’ Ernie. I’m fed up with you a-gittin’ by with sech. Yore the dang cause of Ernie a-bein’ blind the way he is. You may be dead, you old rascal, but you ain’t gonna git by with foolin’ folks the way you been doin’. ‘Cause I’m gonna turn around here right now; an’ I’m going to Ruby Creek to tell Shurff Jamison the truth about yore dang hide.”
Joey Frank looked up through teary eyes toward the sun. He thought he would have enough time to get to Ruby Creek andback before dark. He squatted down and tightened the laces on his brogans. He stood up and wiped the tears away from the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand; then off he went in a trot toward Ruby Creek.
Joey Frank was exhausted when he reached the little town. As he was walking down Main Street toward the sheriff’s office, he discovered he had lost a heel from one of Ernie’s brogans that he was wearing. He had become so emotional over the reward poster that he didn’t think about taking a rock to knock the tacks back into the soles as Ernie had told him to do. He planned to be sure to look for the heel on his way back home.
Soon, he had reached the sheriff’s office. Out of anger toward Banker Tolbert and the hurting for Ernie, he opened the door and stepped inside to reveal the Tolbert secret that he couldn’t keep any longer.
Sheriff Jamison sat alone in the office with his feet propped upon his desk. The tall, husky, dark-complexioned lawman with a black mustache and a cigar between his teeth, kept his position when he spoke to Joey Frank “Good evening, young fellow,” he said, “What can I do for you today?”
Joey Frank walked over to the desk. He cleared his throat before saying, “Uh, Shurff Jamison, my name is Joey Frank Cooper, an’ I’m a-needin to tell you somethin’ that I thank you oughta know, but can I have a drank of water before I commence?”
“Sure you can, Joey Frank,” the sheriff said, removing his feet from the desk. “I happen to have a fresh bucket.”
He went over to a little stand there in the office, dipped Joey Frank out a cup of water and brought it back to him. He said, “Please take a seat, young fellow; you look like you’re exhausted.”
“Yes sir, I am.” Joey Frank said, taking the chair in front of the sheriff’s desk. “I run all the way here about it, ‘cause I gotta git home before dark.”
Joey Frank drank all the cool water from the cup, and the kind sheriff offered him more, but he thanked him and said he had had enough.
“Shurff Jamison, now I’ll tell you, what I come here to tell you,”
“Go right ahead, Joey Frank, and take your time,” the sheriff said as he relaxed in his chair behind his desk.
Joey Frank told the entire story to the lawman, who listened with great concern. He left out nothing; from the day he and Ernie discovered the baby until the day Ernie got shot.
Sheriff Jamison took a match from his vest pocket. He reached down and struck it on the sole of his boots and relit his cigar. He leaned forward in his chair and placed his elbows on the desk. He asked, “Joey Frank, do you think that you can remember well enough where the baby was buried that you might take me there?”
“Oh, yes sir, I remember where the place is. I won’t never forgit it. It ain’t too far from here, just over the road apiece.”
Sheriff Jamison reached into his vest pocket; looked at his watch and he said, “Joey Frank, it’s a good hour or more before dark. If you’ll go with me, and show me where the baby is buried; then I’ll carry you home from there before dark.”
“Yes sir, I’ll go with you. I’ll show you where it is.”
“Good, young fellow. Then we’ll get started,” the sheriff said, reaching for his hat on the desk.
Sheriff Jamison and Joey Frank went outside to the Sheriff’s horse that was tied to a hitching post in front of his office. They climbed upon the stallion and went galloping down
Main Street through town and on out to the country; as Joey Frank gave the lawman directions.
When they came upon the place that looked familiar to Joey Frank he pointed it out to Sheriff Jamison. Although the area looked somewhat different than before, it had weeds grown over it and there were leaves on the trees and bushes. This was unmistakable the place that had stuck in Joey Frank’s memory.
Sheriff Jamison stopped his horse by the roadside, and they climbed down. The sheriff walked his stallion over to the edge of the woods and tied him to a tree.
Joey Frank led the way to the baby’s grave. They pushed back bushes; tree limbs and trampled down briars that tore into their clothes, as they made their way into the woods.
When Joey Frank thought he was near the scene where Ernie and he had witnessed the baby’s burial; he stopped and looked around the area. After a moment he spotted the little grave with its mound covered with patches of fresh moss and dead leaves. He said, pointing for the sheriff to look, “There it is, Shurff Jamison, right over yonder ‘twixt them two big trees.”
The sheriff and Joey Frank went over to the grave. The lawman squatted down to rake back some of the dead leaves and acorns. He scratched up a handful of the new soil and he gradually let it slide through his fingers back on the grave.
Sheriff Jamison viewed the area with a grim face. After awhile he said, “Joey Frank, if you and your friend Ernie hadn’t skipped school that day, then it’s doubtful this baby would ever be known about.”
The sheriff stood up and dusted the debris from his hands. He said, “There’s nothin’ that I can do out here this late, young fellow. It’ll have to wait ‘til mornin’. I best be getting you on toward home. It’s not gonna be long ‘til dark. And we don’t want your folks to be worried.”
“Shurff Jamison, will this baby always be buried way out here from nowhere?”
“Only if this is Tolbert land, Joey Frank. A person has the right to bury his folks on his property if he wishes to. If this is not Tolbert land, and I don’t much think it is, then the baby’s remains will be moved to a cemetery.”
The baby was no longer a secret, but it was the main topic of conversation on the lips of the townspeople.
There were no charges brought against Rene Tolbert or her daughter Alice, since there was no foul play involved. The baby was stillborn and was buried in the woods, to spare the Tolbert name any shame.
Miss Rene was very furious, blaming the dead baby’s father, Hank Eller, with all her troubles. She was beginning to let her true colors show; now that the people of Ruby Creek had learned the Tolbert family wasn’t all lily-white as they were thought to be in prior years.
One day on Main Street in front of onlookers Miss Rene cursed loudly and promised Sheriff Jamison she would kill Hank Eller if she ever caught him near her home again. The sheriff told Hank of Miss Rene’s threat, and Hank laughed about it, saying that he was glad that Rene Tolbert was eating some of the garbage that she had dished out to everyone else.
The people had stopped talking about changing the little town’s name to Tolbert Creek in honor of the “great banker” who wasn’t so great anymore, since they had learned he had tried to kill two innocent boys in an effort to keep them quiet.
If the ghost of the bawd named Ruby was actually in the old saloon building and heard the town might change its name, she could rest in peace now. More than likely the little town would continue to bear her name, forever.
Since the Tolbert scandal had been revealed, Miss Rene gave the baby a decent burial. Her remains were placed beside Banker Tolbert’s in the Baptist Church Cemetery at Ruby Creek. Her little headstone with an angel kneeling in prayer read: “Baby Tolbert. Born February 14, 1912. Born into this world but not to suffer.”
Mama was disappointed that Joey Frank didn’t confide in her about the baby and the fifty dollars that Banker Tolbert had given him. When he explained his feelings about her taking a job away from home, then she was proud of such dedication from her thirteen-year-old son.
Ernie’s parents didn’t hold any ill feelings toward anyone. Their only concern was for their son’s eyesight to be restored. Many charitable people who had learned of the Brown family’s misfortune gave what money they could spare toward the operation. The total amount in the glass jar was now sixty-eight dollars, making it four hundred and thirty-eight dollars away from the required goal.
Joey Frank continued to visit Ernie on Saturdays. On one of the visits he led Ernie through the woods and the fields to the river. That was the first time they had gone fishing since the accident. Ernie could easily bait his own hook and take the fish off, but Joey Frank kindly offered to help.
Ernie blew up, and told him bluntly that he didn’t need his help. “If I need yore help, Joey Frank Cooper, then I’ll ast for it.” he said. “Now hush up, bait yore own dang hook an’ quit worryin’ about mine.”
“What’cha wanna git all mad for, Ernie? Just ‘cause I offered to help you? That ain’t no way to be.”
“I ain’t mad, Joey Frank, I’m just tired a-folks offerin’ to help me an’ a-feelin’ sorry for me, that’s all.”
Joey Frank looked over at Ernie, staring out toward the river at nothing. He wasn’t altogether sure, but he thought that he saw him wipe a tear from the corner of his eye.
“Ernie, folks ain’t feelin’ sorry for you,” Joey Frank said. “They just wanna help you out a little ‘til you git the hang of thangs. Heck, let’m help you ‘cause it ain’t gonna be too much longer ‘til you can see agin, an’ ever’body’s gonna be after you to help them”.
Ernie turned his head slightly to the side away from Joey Frank and said, “I don’t guess I’ll ever be able to see agin, Joey Frank. I hear my Pa an’ Mama a-talkin’ sometimes when they don’t thank I hear’m. Pa cain’t sell the farm an’ there ain’t no other way they can git the money for my operation.”
The tears were obvious on the side of Ernie’s face now. He turned his head further around, hoping that Joey Frank wouldn’t detect them. He quickly wiped his eyes and the sides of his face with his hand, and then he turned his head back around and spit into the river. He went on to say, “Shucks, Joey Frank, it won’t be so bad that I’m gonna be blind. Heck, there’s two thangs that’s gonna make me happy that I cain’t see.”
“Oh yeah! What two thangs, Ernie?”
“Well, I won’t hafta go back to school an’ learn about that dumb ole war anymore, an’ somebody besides me is gonna hafta tote wood in for the heater to keep that sweet little Johnny McGraw all good an’ warm”.
Joey Frank realized that Ernie was trying to fool him. He went along with his act, faking a laugh, saying “Yeah, that’s somethin’ to be glad about Ernie, but I just hope I ain’t gonna hafta be the one that totes all that wood in for the sweet thang to keep warm. That’s one heap of a job for a fella.”
“Well, you just better be a-gittin’ ready, Joey Frank Cooper, ‘cause it’s a-comin’ for shore. Yore gonna be the very one that’ll hafta to do it, an’ you’ll hafta do it all by yoreself too ‘cause I won’t be there to help you. That sweet little Johnny McGraw won’t he helpin’ out none ‘cause he might git dirt on them fine clothes of his’n.”
Suddenly Joey Frank felt sick all over. His fishing pole gave a jerk, but he didn’t bother to bring it in. He didn’t care if the biggest fish in the river had swallowed the hook. He felt so bewildered for his buddy.
Joey Frank laid the pole down, not caring to fish. He lay back on the ground and put his hands under his head. He looked up at the sky, and his mind began to wander. He thought of Johnny McGraw and his family. They owned the dry goods store in Ruby Creek and it was a very progressive business. Money was no object for him and his family. They owned a spacious home outside of town with a bathroom. Johnny could take a warm bath and change into different clothes everyday if he wanted to. He didn’t have to walk to school either. Mr. McGraw always brought Johnny to school in his new buggy and dropped him off right at the school door. He had never in his life had to wade through water puddles in the cold winter to get to school as Joey Frank and Ernie had done.
As Joey Frank continued to look up at the blue sky, he thought of Rene Tolbert with all her money and luxuries. She knew very well what kind of conditions the Brown family endured, yet she had not offered to contribute the first penny towards Ernie’s eye surgery.
He thought about his Pa and a story that he had told him about the young outlaw, Jesse James, who was given credit for robbing from the rich to give to the poor.
As Joey Frank was remembering the story, he couldn’t see anything wrong with Jesse’s robbing from the rich folk to give to the poor, especially if the poor were in a predicament like the Brown family.
Ernie interrupted Joey Frank’s thoughts when he asked, “Have you got a bite yit, Joey Frank?”
“I ain’t yit, Ernie,” he answered as if he had been fishing all along. “I reckin they all takin’ a nap or off a-visitin’ down stream somewhere.”
Joey Frank couldn’t bring himself to pick up his pole again. He continued to lie back on the riverbank deep in thought. Every now and then, he would look over at Ernie holding on to his fishing pole staring out toward the river, and his heart ached for him. He wanted to cry; he wanted to scream. He felt so guilty because he had been the one who caused Ernie to go to Rene Tolbert’s home in the first place. He felt that if he hadn’t thrown the words “chicken blood” in his buddy’s face he wouldn’t be blind today.
Tears had filled Joey Frank’s eyes by now, and they wouldn’t stop coming. They were big, hot tears that had been building up for a long time because he wouldn’t let himself breakdown. He wanted to stay strong for Ernie. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, he finally gave in to them, saying to himself, “Heck, go on an’ cry, Joey Frank Cooper. Let it all out, an’ git it over with. Ernie’s blind an’ cain’t see you makin’ a big baby outta yoreself. You better be careful though an’ not make no noise, ‘cause he’ll ketch on that yore cryin’ an’ you’ll never hear the end of it.”