“You think Virginia’s making sense?” he asked.
“Yes,” Shepherd said, and turned from the window. “She’s making lot of sense. You didn’t see the gun, huh?”
“No,” Elijah said.
“Let’s get out of here,” Shepherd told him.
When they came back downstairs they saw Virginia at her living room door waiting for them.
“Well?” she said.
“He’s not up there.”
“Thank God for that,” she said. “At least he ain’t killed himself in there yet. I bet you that room’s a mess.”
“The bed needs changing,” Elijah said.
“Well, I can tell you who ain’t go’n change it,” Virginia said. “Never catch me in that room all by myself.”
“Anybody seen him leave?” Elijah asked.
“If they did they didn’t tell me, and I didn’t ask nobody,” Virginia said.
“When he come back, tell him I was here,” Elijah said. “Tell him call the house, and I’ll come and pick him up.”
“When he show up I’m go’n lock myself in my room,” Virginia said. “If y’all want him you better stay here and wait for him yourself. I don’t reckon you found that gun?”
“It wasn’t up there,” Shepherd said.
“It’s up there all right,” Virginia said. “Just got it hid somewhere till he get good and ready to use it. It wasn’t under the pillow, the mattress?”
“We didn’t look under there.”
“I suppose you think I’m making all this up, too.”
“I’m sure you’re not making it up, Virginia,” Elijah said. “I’ll call back later.”
He and Shepherd went out on the porch. The cold wind off the St. Charles River whistled through the bare limbs of the pecan tree beside the house. Elijah hunched up his narrow shoulders and rubbed the backs and palms of his hands.
“You don’t want drive uptown with me, do you?” he asked Shepherd.
“Drive uptown for what?” Shepherd asked him.
“He might be walking round up there.”
“So?”
Elijah gave Shepherd his most sympathetic and helpless look. “It won’t take us long,” he said.
Shepherd stared at him angrily. He wanted to be with Beverly who was waiting for him at the Congo Room.
“Let’s go if we’re going,” he said, and started down the steps. “And let’s make it quick. If I had any sense in my head I’d be with my woman instead of looking for some nut.”
They drove uptown, searching both sides of the main street and looking inside the stores, but they couldn’t find him anywhere. Virginia had mentioned the riverbank, so Elijah thought he might as well drive along the river for a while. But after going three or four miles out of town, and still finding no sign of him, he turned the car around and started back. Shepherd had given up long ago, and he was becoming more and more irritated.
“One other place,” Elijah said. “They’ve seen him at the Cotton Club on Grant Street.”
“What the hell for?” Shepherd asked.
Elijah shrugged his shoulders.
The Cotton Club was the most dilapidated bar in St. Adrienne, and Grant Street wasn’t in too much better shape. The street had never been paved, only graveled, and most of the gravel had been washed away, leaving holes in the street a foot deep. The holes were filled with mud and water, and by the time Elijah reached the Cotton Club his car was spattered with mud on all sides. Shepherd went in and asked about Virginia’s tenant. The bartender and his one customer were playing checkers at one end of the bar. Neither one had seen him at all that day.
“I guess we ought to just go to the house and wait for him,” Elijah said to Shepherd when he got back into the car.
“You can go to the house and wait for him,” Shepherd said. “Drop me off at the Congo Room. My woman’s waiting for me there.”
“What about these two bottles of wine?” Elijah asked.
Shepherd became quite angry. “Listen,” he said. “I don’t give a damn for that dude. Neither for that damned sherry. I’ve been doing all this as a favor to you. Now drop me off at the Congo Room. If he show up, give me a buzz, and I might come by. If he don’t, save the goddamn wine for some other time. All right?”
Elijah apologized for taking up so much of his time. After dropping him off at the bar, he drove up to Brick O’Linde’s grocery store to see if anyone there had seen the tenant. Brick O’Linde behind the counter and the men round the heater all shook their heads. Elijah went back to Virginia’s boardinghouse, but Virginia would not even answer the door this time. Elijah couldn’t think of anything else to do now but go home. The minister, wearing a dark-brown suit, was waiting out on the porch. He held the screen door open as Elijah came up the walk with the two bottles of wine.
“We couldn’t find Robert X,” Elijah said.
Phillip looked up the street, then back at Elijah. Elijah could see the disappointment in his face, and now he wished he had searched a little longer.
“The past hour I’ve been everywhere,” he said, and nodded toward the street so Phillip could see the mud on the side of his car.
“What about the others?” Phillip asked him.
“I left them at the Congo Room,” Elijah said.
Phillip nodded his head. Elijah could see the hurt in his face. He wanted to stand there with him a moment, but he didn’t know what else to say, and he went inside.
The three children, Patrick, Emily, and Joyce Anne, sat in the living room in their school clothes. Phillip had told them not to change clothes, because he wanted them to meet Virginia’s new tenant and the teachers when they came to the house.
“Well, where they at?” Patrick asked Elijah.
“They’re not coming,” Elijah said.
“Good,” Patrick said. “Now I can take off these things.”
Alma came into the living room wearing a shortsleeved brown wool dress, and a green silk scarf tied round her neck. She had dressed to meet the teachers, but she didn’t seem disappointed at all when Elijah told her they weren’t coming.
“Where’s Phillip?” she asked him.
Elijah nodded over his shoulder. Alma went to the door and looked outside. Phillip had left the porch and was standing out on the lawn looking up the street. Alma started to call him, but changed her mind and turned back to the children.
“All right, you can get out of them clothes now,” she said.
She and Elijah exchanged looks. Elijah could tell she was happy that the people were not coming to the house. But he knew that the minister felt just the opposite.
When Phillip came back inside he went directly into his office. He came out for supper and went back in again. He did not take the pills at the table in front of the family, he did not take them at all, he went back into his office and stood at the window. When he got tired standing he sat down at his desk and read from the Bible. At about nine o’clock he came out. He had just crossed the hall to go into the bedroom when he heard a car stop before the house. Elijah and Alma were in the living room, and Elijah got up from the couch to open the door. Phillip looked happy for a moment, but his face suddenly changed when only Shepherd and Beverly came in.
“Sorry to drop by so late,” Shepherd said.
“It’s still early,” Phillip said. “Alma, take their coats.”
“No, we just stopped by for a second,” Shepherd said, and turned to Elijah. “Afraid I got little bad news for you. Your friend Robert X was picked up by one of Nolan’s boys.”
Phillip had been standing back, but now he came up closer to Shepherd.
“I was at the Congo Room when I heard Fletcher talking about it,” Shepherd said. “He got it from Parlane.”
“What they pick him up for?” Phillip asked.
“I don’t know,” Shepherd said.
“Did he have that gun on him?” Elijah asked Shepherd.
Phillip turned to Elijah. “What gun?”
“According to V
irginia, he’s got a gun,” Elijah said.
“I don’t know if he had it or not,” Shepherd said. “They picked him up around three this evening. Probably just a few minutes before we started looking for him.”
“Where did they pick him up?” Elijah asked.
“Musta been near the bus station for Parlane to see it,” Shepherd said.
“I suppose the bus station is closed now?” Phillip asked.
“After that six-thirty bus,” Shepherd told him.
“Was Fletcher still at the Congo Room when you left?”
Shepherd nodded. “Yes sir, he was still there.”
Phillip turned to Elijah. “Call Thelma,” he said. “I don’t like this—arresting people for just walking around.”
“You think you ought to get in this?” Alma asked him. “Remember Chenal Friday. You probably have to face Nolan then.”
“I can’t just sit back and let them pick up somebody for walking,” Phillip said.
“It had to happen,” Shepherd said. “Much as he walk, sooner or later they had to get him.”
Elijah had dialed the café and got Fletcher. He passed the telephone to Phillip.
“This is Reverend Martin,” he said, speaking calmly into the receiver. He pressed it hard to his ear to hear everything that Fletcher would say to him, but he also pressed it hard to his ear to keep his hand from trembling. He knew the others in the room were watching him and listening to everything he said. He avoided looking at Alma while he spoke. “Yes, I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said into the telephone. “Shepherd just told me that this young man at Virginia’s place got arrested this evening. You know how I can get in touch with Parlane? You know if he’s got a phone?” The others in the room could see him frown as he pressed the telephone to his ear. “No, no, that’s all right,” he said. “Listen, do you know if he had a gun? Yes, a gun. A pistol. You don’t know? You don’t think so? All right. Good night. Good night, Fletcher. Thank you kindly.”
Phillip hung up the telephone, shaking his head. “Fletcher can sure talk when you get him started,” he said, smiling. “I’m sure they just picked him up for walking round up there. I’ll call Nolan in the morning.”
“Can’t this wait till after the meeting Friday?” Alma said. “No matter how the meeting come out you probably go’n have to meet with Nolan then.”
“I’ll meet him in the morning,” Phillip said.
“I hope you know what you doing,” Alma told him.
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” he said. “Anybody else seen a gun?” he asked Shepherd.
“Elijah and I went in his room and looked around, but we didn’t see anything,” Shepherd said.
“Virginia’s probably making all this up,” Phillip said, and smiled. He hoped he was covering up how he truly felt. “Straightening that short hair much as she does done cooked her brains.”
“I don’t think she’s making it up,” Shepherd said. “She’s scared up there. She thinks he come here to kill somebody. Maybe even himself.”
Phillip looked at Shepherd a moment before saying anything. He was still trying to hide his feelings. “You think that’s why he’s here?”
“I don’t know why he’s here,” Shepherd said. “But I do know he says some strange things. The other day in his room he told me he had cancer of the soul or something. When I asked him what I could do, he said nobody could do nothing.” Shepherd shook his head. “I don’t know what to think.” He turned to Beverly. “Ready to take off, Mama?”
“When you’re ready,” she said.
“Would y’all like a glass of wine before you go?” Phillip asked. “Got some good sherry there.”
“No, thanks,” Shepherd said. “We just dropped by for a second.”
“I’ll walk with you to the car,” Phillip said.
“It’s a little cold out there,” Shepherd said.
“I been there,” Phillip told him.
“You ought to put on your overcoat,” Alma said.
“I’m just going out there a minute.”
She didn’t argue with him; she went into the bedroom and came back with his overcoat and his hat. She fastened all the buttons on the coat before she let him leave the room.
“This been some bad weather,” Phillip said, looking up at the sky as he followed Shepherd down the walk.
“No sign of letting up either,” Shepherd said.
When they came out to the car, Shepherd and Beverly hurried and got inside. Phillip stood beside the car, and Shepherd rolled the glass down to see what else he had to say.
“Drop by again soon,” he said. “We still have them two bottles of sherry there.”
Shepherd nodded his head. He wanted to leave, but Phillip wouldn’t move. He was leaning over into the window now.
“And bring the beautiful Miss Ricord with you,” he said.
Beverly smiled at him. But she was as anxious to leave as was Shepherd.
“I used to know a Miss Ricord once,” Phillip said to Beverly. “Pretty just like you, Miss Ricord. Not quite as light; hair maybe not quite as long. Pretty just like you. I see you like red; she liked yellow. Wore yellow all the time. Yellow hats, yellow dresses, yellow ribbons. I can’t remember the time she didn’t have on something yellow.”
Beverly could see how serious he was, and she smiled patiently at him.
“What happened?” Shepherd asked.
“I lost her,” Phillip said.
“Somebody took her from you?”
Phillip shook his head. “Nobody could ever do that.”
“How did you lose her?”
Phillip looked at Shepherd as though he might tell him about it, then he changed his mind. It was too complicated to talk about while leaning into the window of a car. It was something you couldn’t talk about to two people who were anxious to leave. He looked at both of them, remembering when it was he and Johanna who wanted to get away and be alone.
“Some other time,” he said. “Promise me you’ll come back soon.”
“A promise,” Beverly said, and smiled at him again.
Phillip stood back from the car and Shepherd drove away. When he could no longer see the red taillights of the car, he went back into the yard.
The next morning he drove uptown to get his son out of jail. Walking across the sea-shell-covered parking lot he heard the big clock on the courthouse steeple strike twice for nine thirty. On his left, as he turned up the walk to go inside, was the statue of the Confederate soldier standing at parade rest. Six or seven feet above the head of the statue, fluttering calmly in the cool morning air, were the state, national, and Confederate flags. Phillip Martin took off his hat as he mounted the first step.
The sheriff’s office was at the far end of the hall, and Phillip took a deep breath before entering the room. A young deputy dressed in a light-blue uniform sat at a front desk looking through papers. Another deputy sitting at a desk in the back of the room was trying desperately to type fast using only two fingers. The first deputy knew that Phillip had come in, but he let him stand there a while before looking up.
“Help you, Reverend?” he asked.
“Sheriff Nolan in?”
“Yeah. But he’s busy. Can I help you?”
“I would like to see Nolan.”
“You’ll have to wait.”
The deputy started looking through his papers again. After Phillip had been standing there about five minutes, the deputy got up from his desk and went into another room. When he came back out he looked through his papers another minute or two before saying anything.
“You can go in,” he said, without looking up.
Nolan was sitting behind his desk reading a newspaper when Phillip came into the room. Nolan was a tall, slim, well-built man in his late fifties. His hair was the color of dry corn shuck, except at the temples and the sideburns, which were almost white. Nolan and Phillip were not too far apart in age and they had known each other most of their lives. As a young deputy Nolan had arrested
Phillip several times for fighting. Twice he had been picked up as a suspect in killings, but neither time was there enough proof against him. As the sheriff of St. Adrienne, Nolan had arrested him more than once for civil rights demonstrations. The two men had no love for each other, still there was no running hatred for each other either. Each felt the other was doing his work the best way he knew how, and both accepted the fact that there would be conflicts between them.
Nolan folded his papers and laid them on the desk and nodded for Phillip to sit down. Phillip hesitated a moment, then he moved back to the chair. He spun his hat on his fingers a couple times while Nolan sat there watching him.
“Well?” Nolan said.
“I heard you arrested a young man yesterday,” Phillip said.
“We picked up somebody yesterday—yes,” Nolan said.
“Can you tell me what for?”
“Why?” Nolan asked.
“I want to bail him out.”
“Did he call for you?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“I know his people.”
Nolan watched him. “Yes?” he said.
Phillip passed his hand over the sweatband of the hat. He didn’t feel comfortable, and he knew Nolan saw it.
“How much is bail?” Phillip asked.
“Hold your horses,” Nolan said. “Who are these people?”
“Just some people I know.”
“Yes?” Nolan said. “Where from?”
“Chicago,” Phillip said, avoiding his eyes.
“Chicago?” Nolan said, watching him.
Phillip rubbed his finger round the sweatband of the hat again.
“All right,” Nolan said. “What is it?”
“What is what?” Phillip asked.
“Between you and that boy?” Nolan said. “I think that’s what we’re talking about.”
“I just told you,” Phillip said.
“That’s not it, ’less you think I’m a fool,” Nolan said. “I want to know exactly what he means to you.”
Phillip held the expensive black felt hat in his left hand while caressing it nervously with his fingers. Nolan was watching him, and he felt more and more uncomfortable. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled through his mouth.