Authors: Tracy Sugarman
The sheriff looked at Luke and then at Willy. “You saw what happened last night, Willy? You saw those two boys?”
“No,” she said impatiently. “I only heard what happened last night. And it was only from Jimmy Mack. Dale Billings had disappeared by the time Mack was beaten and released. And Mack said it was your policemen who beat him, Sheriff. I was carryin’ him to Mound Bayou clinic for medical assistance when he told my maid, Eula, and me the story.”
“You believe that story, Lucas?” Haley rose and went to the door. “Butler! Lonergan! Get in here!” A moment later the two policemen entered the room, removing their hats. Butler nodded to Lucas. “Mr. Claybourne.” Lonergan remained silent.
Haley closed the door and resumed his seat behind the desk. “According to the sheet, you both were involved with the arrest of James Mack and Dale Billings last night for trespassing at the Tildon plantation. That right?”
“Yes, sir,” said Butler. “Caught the niggers about eight o’clock comin’ out to the road. Lonergan and me had staked out the place, hearing that agitators were likely gonna be there.” He grinned at the sheriff. “Was easy as shootin’ fish in a barrel.”
“There’s a story going ’round that you beat those two prisoners at this headquarters.” Haley eased back in his chair. “You got any light to shed on that, Butler?”
“No, sir. I sure don’t.”
“You, Lonergan?”
“That’s bullshit, Sheriff. ’Scuse me, Mrs. Claybourne. Don’t know where a story like that would come from. Course, there’s a whole lot of riff-raff in Shiloh this summer. Cain’t know what they’d say or do to make us Christians look bad. Those two niggers sayin’ now they was beat up by me and Butler? They run a little and fell down a little when we busted them.” Smiling, he turned to look at his partner. “You beat up those nigger agitators, Butler, when I wasn’t lookin’? Shame on you if you did.”
Haley spoke sharply. “That’s enough smart-talk. You deny beating Mack and Billings?”
“Course I do, Sheriff. Like I said, it’s bullshit.”
The sheriff turned to Willy. “Mrs. Claybourne, you’ve heard these two police officers deny the charges. Seems like it’s James Mack’s word and story against theirs. You know of any witness that saw this alleged beating happen?”
Willy looked at Luke. “There is one, Dennis,” he said. “A colored officer named Bronko. Stanley Bronko.”
The sheriff frowned and nodded toward the door. “You men are dismissed. Send Bronko in.”
Butler and Lonergan went in to the Day Room where Bronko was watching the television. “Turn off that goddam television and get your black ass in to the sheriff’s office,” said Butler. “Haley’s orders.”
Bronko turned his great head and looked at the two policemen. Slowly, he stood and faced them. “My friend, Sheriff Haley, wants to see me? Why he want that? You two honky mother-fuckers trying to mess with me in Haley’s headquarters? You can kiss my Polack ass.”
“I don’t gotta answer your dumb nigger questions, Bronko. Sheriff said to send you in. But before you go in, you ought to know that me and Lonergan just explained to the sheriff that nothing happened here last night worth rememberin’ about those two prisoners we brought in.”
Lonergan planted himself in front of Bronko. “You pretty tight with Sheriff Haley, ain’t you, boy? Well your friend could be in a peck of trouble if anything happened in his shit hole of a headquarters to any of the prisoners brought in. So Butler and me reassured him that we didn’t see nothing. You want to go on bein’ Haley’s pet coon dog and go on bein’ scratched, then you didn’t see nothin, neither.”
“Don’t mess with me, Lonergan.” Bronko’s voice was low and guttural. “Don’t need you tellin’ me what the fuck I gonna do. I broke honkies like you in half when they messed with me. Don’t believe me? Ask the sheriff.” He picked up his cap, pushed Lonergan aside, and left the office.
When Bronko entered Haley’s office, Luke whispered to Willy, “Isn’t that the guy who ran the door at Fatback’s?” Willy nodded, watching the large man come to attention in front of Haley’s desk. “At ease, Deputy Bronko. This is Mr. and Mrs. Claybourne. Came in this morning because they heard a story that Jimmy Mack and Dale Billings, who were picked up for trespassing, were beaten in this headquarters last night. Mr. Claybourne seems to think you might be a witness to that.” Haley paused and looked steadily at Bronko. “That’s a very serious crime. It would certainly be a terrible discredit to this office, particularly since this office is the first to hire a colored officer in the whole Delta. Did you see Mack and Billings last night?”
Bronko nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Did you see Deputy Butler or Deputy Lonergan strike either of those prisoners?”
His eyes locked on Haley’s. “No, sir. Who say that they did, Sheriff?”
“James Mack told Mrs. Claybourne that.”
Bronko’s eyes moved lazily to Willy. “Why you believe Jimmy Mack, Miz Claybourne? He just a full-of-himself nigger, trying to get some size here this summer by agitatin’ good colored folks who’re just tryin’ to get along. You an’ Mr. Claybourne know wasn’t no trouble here ’fore those troublemakers come here. Jimmy Mack is just trouble.”
Haley nodded. “Thank you, Deputy Bronko. You’re dismissed.”
When Bronko left the room the sheriff escorted the Claybournes to their car. “Sorry about all this, Willy. I’m not saying you didn’t hear what you say you heard. But according to my officers, any bruises Mack and Billings got were from running and falling. And the only other officer that was present says nothing happened here at the station. My hands are pretty much tied.”
Lucas met Haley’s gaze. “Willy doesn’t make up alibis for agitators, Dennis. She knows what she saw. She knows what she heard. And she told the truth. Willy doesn’t know how to lie.”
Willy paused before entering the car. “You’ve got three police officers working for you that are lying to you, Dennis. Guess you’ll have to figure out why.”
When Willy Claybourne walked into the kitchen, she sifted through the fragrant pile of laundry that was stacked on the kitchen counter. Head down, Eula was concentrating on the ironing, the dark hand skillfully moving the iron across the damp laundry.
“Eula, honey, did you see my white blouse with the scalloped ruffle around the neck?”
The iron kept moving, edging carefully around the last of the dinner napkins. In the silence, Eula’s eyes remained locked on her work.
“I asked you a question.” Willy’s voice was annoyed. “Did you see my white blouse? The one Luke says makes me look like a schoolgirl?”
“No, ma’am.” The iron kept moving. It was so quiet they could hear the slight hiss as the heated iron moved across the moist fabric.
“What’s this no ma’am and not looking at me when I’m talking to you?”
Eula very deliberately set the iron on its stand and raised angry eyes to Willy’s.
“What is all this, Eula? Are you all right?”
“No, ma’am.
“You’re not? What’s the matter with you?”
“It’s not me. It’s Jimmy.”
“Oh, sweet Jesus. Jimmy!” Willy sounded relieved but clearly embarrassed. “Forgive me. Is Jimmy okay? He’s been all right since he was treated at Mound Bayou, isn’t he?”
“His body is healing.” There was a huskiness in her voice. “But his heart and mind are something else.” Tears glistened in Eula’s eyes. “And so are mine.”
“You?”
“Yes, me. I’m aching for him. Jimmy’s always been such a proud man.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “You ever seen your man humiliated?”
“My Luke? Humiliated? You must be kidding. You know him better than that.”
“Yes, I do. But you and Mr. Luke don’t know my man. And that’s probably why you don’t understand.”
“Understand what?” Her voice had risen. “I did everything I could. I got him to the hospital in Mound Bayou that night. What else could I have done?”
“You did.” Eula nodded and unplugged the iron. “And we’re both grateful for that. He was hurt so bad, and he needed help so bad. But it doesn’t end there.”
“End? What in hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Not one thing done about it. Not one word! Not one reprimand! Not one arrest! I think that you and Mr. Claybourne ought to speak out, force the sheriff to arrest the cops who beat Jimmy up! Claybournes own the second biggest plantation in all of Magnolia County, know all the most important people in Shiloh! You play bridge with the sheriff’s wife! Can’t you get some justice for my man who was beaten almost to death?”
“Well there must have been—”
Furious, Eula interrupted. “Must have been what? A reason? There’s no reason, Miss Willy. The only reason is that Jimmy’s skin is black.”
Willy protested. “He must have done something to make them.”
Eula stared at the woman. “Yes, something.” The words were angry. “Something real criminal, like trying to register people to vote.”
Willy’s face was pale as she struggled to reach the distraught woman. “Eula May, I’ve never seen you like this before. Yes, that was a terrible thing that happened to Jimmy. And Luke and I both feel awful about it. You know we went to see the sheriff the very next day. But we don’t go around telling the sheriff what to do. He’s got a town to control and there’s a lot of stuff going on right now, with these organizing meetings that Jimmy seems to be setting up to talk about strikes. Why, that could ruin everything for everybody. Even for you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. You’re planning to go to college in February, and you know I’m planning to ask Luke to help you with expenses. I know you want that.”
Eula untied her apron, slowly folded the ironing board and then turned to face Willy. “There’s wants and wants, Mrs. Claybourne. And what I want most is to be proud of who I am and what I stand for. And right now, where I stand is not in this kitchen.” She moved past Willy and opened the door to the yard.
Willy’s eyes widened. “If you walk out, Eula . . . ”
“I just did.” The door slammed behind her.
By Thursday his eye was beginning to open sufficiently to focus. Jimmy paced restlessly in the dusty upstairs section of the Freedom House. Three more days till the mass meeting. The arm still throbbed but he was able to catch and squeeze the softball that Dale lobbed to him from his mattress on the floor. “Catch, brother! Much better.” With a series of grunts Dale rose from the floor. “Gonna put the tin cup and the pencils away till we really need ’em.”
Though Jimmy’s face was still swollen, he cracked a broken smile and tossed the ball back. “Nobody’d buy them anyhow, looking like we do.” He went to the window and tugged it up. The sounds of kids laughing and the softer calls of the Freedom School teachers meeting below in the yard washed into the stifling room. “Did you notice that the girls kept the kids away when we limped in, Dale? We’re role models, man. Not supposed to look like D-Day survivors! Linda said go on upstairs and clean up so you don’t scare the hell out of the class. ‘What class?’ I asked. ‘How nonviolence can win,’ she said with a straight face. Broke me up, man, and I tried not to laugh because of the cracked ribs.”
Dale limped to the window. Grinning, he turned to see Jimmy’s worried face. “Did Linda explain to you how that’s supposed to happen?”
Jimmy groaned and resumed his restless tour of the attic. “Gotta be accomplished without me coughing or laughing because if I do either you’re going to have to run the mass meeting. Doc Dorsey at Mound Bayou said there’s nothing really to do about busted ribs but outlast ’em.” He stopped and turned to Dale. “No bullshit. You really think anyone’s gonna dare to come when they hear about us?”
Dale raised his hands helplessly. “Brother, we’ll get a better idea at our meeting tonight when we hear from the plantations.” He watched Jimmy closely, concerned about the deep worry that was etched on the young face. “Flake out, Jimmy. Been a tough week, and gonna be a long night tonight.”
It was Eula who came by that afternoon to tell Percy and Rennie Williams about the beatings. “It was awful, Sister Rennie. Dale and Jimmy, beaten, kicked.” Her voice broke. “Humiliated.” Tears shone in her eyes. “My Jimmy. Beaten till he said, ‘I’m a nigger.’”
Rennie’s glasses caught the light, shielding the fierceness of her eyes as she gently led Eula to a chair. “Sit a minute, honey. You look wore out.” She turned to Percy. “Made him say nigger, Percy. Sound familiar?”
Mr. Williams ran a glass of water at the tap and brought it to the shaken woman. In his soft, old man’s voice he said, “Who, Eula? Them Kilbrews?”
She shook her head. “Not the Kilbrews, Brother Percy. The Shiloh police. They cracked Jimmy’s ribs, and he hurts just moving. His mouth is a mess, he says. But thank heaven he and Dale are alive. They’re both resting at the Freedom House, keeping out of sight till the mass meeting on Sunday. They both want to be there, and I’m worried sick about what’s going to happen to them. They’re meeting with folks tonight from the plantations, making plans for the walkout. Ted Mendelsohn thinks that the Klan’s likely to attack the Freedom House, wanting to show that they’re still in business in Magnolia County.” Eula met Percy’s steady gaze. “How can nonviolent civil rights workers protect themselves?” When the old man remained still, she rose to leave, her young face desolate. “Troubling times, Brother Percy. Thank you both for listening.”
After supper that night Percy said he was going out. “I want to talk with my old friend Thomas, who I ain’t seen in too long.”
Rennie paused and gave him a long, searching look as she was putting Sharon to bed. “Sister Livia say Thomas just had his seventieth, thank the Lord. Thomas is getting along, Percy, and so are you. Best you remember you ain’t boys no more. You both are the only two colored vetrins in Magnolia County still around from the Great War.” She finished laying the child on her bed and turned a questioning face to her husband. “Ain’t time for you two to go out hunting for possum yet. What you want with Tom McCormack?”
Percy said. “Don’t need possum to talk to Thomas. Want to talk with him about the Lord’s work. Used to talk about things like that when we were sloppin’ mules in the cavalry for General Pershing in 1917.”