After he had chopped a hole big enough for his hand to go through, he unlatched the door from inside; then he had to throw his shoulder against it to clear away the things Tee Bob had stack there. Tee Bob was sitting in the high back chair facing the window. He was sitting there like he was just looking out of the window. Then somebody screamed. I looked down and saw the dirk on the floor. No, not a dirk, a letter opener. The one Paul Samson had used at the capital there in Baton Rouge.
Robert hollered for the women to get out, but the people didn’t go out, they went in, and I went in with them. And that’s how I saw when Jules Raynard snatched the letter up off the table and put it in his pocket. Everywhere he turned from then on I had my eyes on him. I figured if it was something bad he was go’n tear it up. But he didn’t tear it up, he waited till most of the people had gone, then he called Miss Amma Dean to another room. After she read the letter she sent for Robert. Everybody else was gone now. They left quietly, not saying a word. When they asked for their coat and umbrellas, they asked for them in a whisper. The cars even left the yard quietly. Half hour after Robert got that door opened, nobody was left but him and Miss Amma Dean, me and Jules Raynard. They was in another room, I was in the library with Tee Bob. We had covered him over with a sheet. The sheet had a red spot in the middle the size of a saucer. Everything else was just like we found them. Even the dirk—the letter opener—was still on the floor.
Jules Raynard came out the other room, and I heard him telephoning the sheriff’s office. Then he came in the library where I was.
“What was in that letter, Mr. Raynard?” I asked him.
“What letter?” he said.
“The one you snatched off that table over there.”
“You saw then?” he said.
“I saw.”
“To his mother,” Jules Raynard said, looking down at the sheet. “He had to find peace. He couldn’t find it here.”
“And the girl?” I said.
“Innocent,” Jules Raynard said, looking down at the sheet—not at me.
“Who go’n believe this?” I asked him.
“I believe it,” he said, looking at the sheet all the time.
Robert and Miss Amma Dean came in the library. Miss Amma Dean pulled the sheet from Tee Bob’s face and looked down at him. She stood there so long Jules Raynard had to pull her away and lead her to a chair against the wall. I covered Tee Bob’s face again. Robert hadn’t moved. He didn’t know what to do, or what to say. He wasn’t looking at Miss Amma Dean or Tee Bob; just standing there like he was still trying to figure out something.
Me and Jules Raynard was standing in the parlor when we heard the car come in the yard. It came in too fast and stopped too quick, so we knowed it wasn’t the sheriff. The person ran up on the gallery and knocked on the door loud and quick. By the time Jules got to the door he had knocked two or three more times.
“What do you want?” Jules asked, when he opened the door.
Jimmy Caya didn’t answer Jules. He pushed right by him and came inside. He saw me standing there, but he went right by me. When he got to the library door he saw Robert and Miss Amma Dean, then he stopped. Now he went in quietly.
Jules Raynard came back toward the library. I could tell from the way he looked he didn’t like Jimmy Caya there. He never did like the Cayas. They was just rednecks who had come up. He had even warned Tee Bob against Jimmy Caya. I could see in his face now how he didn’t want him there.
“Is that my friend?” Jimmy said in the library. “Is that Robert?”
Miss Amma Dean was sitting in the chair and Robert was standing by the chair, but neither of them answered Jimmy Caya. Maybe they didn’t even hear him at first. Miss Amma Dean just gazed at that sheet like she couldn’t look nowhere else. Robert was standing side her like he was still waiting for something to happen.
“I warned him,” Jimmy Caya said. “I warned him ’bout her.”
Jules Raynard stood in the library door looking straight at Jimmy Caya. I could see in his face how much he hated him.
“He told me she wouldn’t let him alone,” Jimmy Caya said. “He told me that no later than today. Poor Robert. Now look at him.”
Jules Raynard turned red just standing there. But he didn’t say a thing till Robert looked at the boy. Then he knowed he had to move. But even before he got in the room, Robert had turned. Jules moved back in the door. His frame almost took up the whole door.
“Get out the way,” Robert said.
“No, you don’t,” Jules said.
“Do I have to walk over you?” Robert said.
“Yes,” Jules said. “And soon as Guidry get here I’ll accuse you of murder. Trash will be trash anywhere, anytime, but me and you, we know better.”
“Only thing I know, I should ’a’ done it before now,” Robert said.
“I ain’t lying to you,” Jules said. “I’ll tell sure as I’m standing here.”
“Do you know who’s in that chair?” Robert said.
“I know who’s in that chair,” Jules Raynard said. “And I know he did it himself. And I know why he did it.”
“She did it,” Jimmy Caya said. “That nigger wench did it.”
“Shut up,” Jules told him.
“What?” he said.
“You killed him,” Jules said.
“What?” Jimmy Caya said. “Robert was my best friend.”
“But he wrote a letter,” Jules said, looking at Robert, not at Jimmy Caya.
“What letter?” Jimmy Caya said. “What you trying to say, old man?”
“And we know that letter is true, don’t we, Robert?” Jules Raynard said. “Because we know what everybody else know in this parish, and that’s he loved her. And because she couldn’t love him back, because she knowed better, he killed himself. We know that, don’t we, Robert?”
“What’s going on here?” Jimmy Caya said.
“Something your kind could never understand,” Jules Raynard told him.
Jimmy Caya turned to Robert. “Mr. Robert?” he said. “Mr. Robert? Robert was my friend—my best friend. I loved Robert.”
“Well?” Jules Raynard said.
“Nobody pay?” Robert said.
“Yes, you and Amma Dean,” Jules Raynard said. “And everybody else who loved him.”
“And that woman?” Robert said.
“Kill her because she wouldn’t run away with him?” Jules Raynard said. “That’s what you want kill her for? That’s what you want put her in the pen for?”
“I said nothing ’bout no pen,” Robert said.
“Then walk over me and do it, Robert,” Jules Raynard said. “And I’ll accuse you of murder sure as I’m born to die. Yes, I stood next to you when you married Amma Dean; yes, I christened Robert. Yes, I carried one handle of Mr. Paul’s coffin; one handle of Clarence’s. But don’t think for a moment I won’t tell Guidry this was plain cold-blooded murder. And if Guidry won’t do nothing ’bout it I’ll go somewhere else. I’ll tell what was in that letter, Robert.”
Robert knowed Jules meant what he said. For a moment he just stood there facing him. No, not to tell him to get out. Robert wouldn’t ’a’ dared tell Jules Raynard to leave that house. Jules Raynard was not a kin, but he was like a second father there. He had been coming to that house all his life. Robert knowed this. Even when he felt he ought to do something about Tee Bob’s death, he knowed he couldn’t walk over Jules Raynard to do it. He looked at Miss Amma Dean. Whatever she said, that’s what he was go’n do. But she was just sitting there with her head bowed. Like she hadn’t even heard them talking. Robert turned around quickly and went toward the window. Now, he just stood there looking out at the rain.
Jules Raynard looked at Jimmy Caya. “Come out here,” he said. “You foul the air in there.”
Jimmy Caya looked at Robert. “Mr. Robert?” he said. Robert looked out of the window. Jimmy Caya looked at Miss Amma Dean. “Miss Amma Dean?” he said. She kept her head bowed. “Miss Amma Dean, I loved Rober
t. The Lord knows I loved Robert.” But she didn’t look up. He looked at Robert again. But Robert still looked out of the window. He looked at the sheet that covered Tee Bob. He put his hand on Tee Bob’s shoulder, then he came toward the door. Jules Raynard grabbed him in the collar and jecked him out in the parlor.
“You go’n tell me what went on today or you go’n tell Guidry,” he said.
He held him with one hand and slapped him hard cross the face. Then he pushed him down in a chair. Jimmy Caya sat there covering his face and crying.
“Bring me a chair,” Jules said to me.
I brought him the chair. He sat in it facing Jimmy Caya.
“Well?” he said.
“I didn’t tell him nothing,” Jimmy Caya said, crying.
“No?” Jules said.
Jimmy Caya cried, but didn’t say nothing else. Jules grabbed him again.
“No more than the rules,” he said, flinching back from Jules’s hand that was already in the air.
Jules turned him loose. “Explain them rules to me,” he said.
“She’s there for his pleasure, for nothing else,” Jimmy Caya said.
“You told him more than that,” Jules said. “Lot more. And you go’n tell it to me or you go’n tell it to Guidry. Well?”
“I didn’t kill him by myself,” Jimmy Caya said. “We all killed him.”
“You getting warm,” Jules said.
“Robert was my friend,” Jimmy Caya said. “I loved Robert. I loved him.” He looked at Jules, crying. “I loved Robert. Can’t you understand nothing? I loved Robert.”
“Me or Guidry?” Jules said.
“I didn’t tell him no more than what my daddy told me,” Jimmy Caya said. “What my daddy’s daddy told him. What Mr. Paul told Mr. Robert. What Mr. Paul’s daddy told him. What your daddy told you. No more than the rules we been living by ever since we been here.”
“That’s all well and good,” Jules said. “But what did you tell Robert today, or are you waiting for Guidry? Guidry don’t play, remember. And right now he owe me a big big favor.”
“Robert was my best, my only friend,” Jimmy Caya said.
“Well, I guess you want to talk to Guidry,” Jules said. “And I warn you, that letter got your name everywhere.”
Robert came out the library and nodded for me to go in there. When I came in, Miss Amma Dean got up from her chair and went to look at Tee Bob again. Then she knelt down on the floor by his chair. I got down on my knees side her, and I said my prayers quietly to myself.
Sam Guidry showed up not too long after that. A tall, slim man. Dressed in a blue serge suit and a raincoat. The coat was wet, and it shined in the light. Guidry came in very quiet, with his hat in his hand. Miss Amma Dean was sitting in a chair when he came in; I was sitting in another chair ’cross from her. After Guidry spoke to her, he raised the sheet and looked at Tee Bob. Not more than a few seconds, than he pulled the sheet back over his face. When he saw the letter opener on the floor, he looked at me. He had a hard and brutal face. He didn’t ask you for information, he told you he wanted it. I just glanced down at the floor. He got a piece of paper and picked up the letter opener, then he wrapped it up in a handkerchief and put it in his pocket. He went back out, and I heard him and Jules talking. Next thing I heard him say was, “Well?”
Sam Guidry looked at black people and white people in two different ways, but he must ’a’ looked at Jimmy Caya the way he looked at black people, because Jimmy Caya started talking and wouldn’t stop. After they heard his story, they told him to go on home. Then Jules and Sam Guidry came on down the quarters to talk to the girl. Ida was still there. They told Ida to go in my side of the house while they asked the girl some questions. Ida said with them big cracks in the wall, they might as well had let her stay in there because she could hear everything anyhow. She said when she heard that Tee Bob had took his life she had to hurry and cover her mouth to keep from screaming. But the girl didn’t make a sound. If she did, it wasn’t loud enough for Ida to hear. Ida said even when Sam Guidry told her her life depended on what she had to say, she still wouldn’t say anything to him. He told her he wasn’t go’n beg her, he had ways to make her talk. She still didn’t say a word. Ida said it got quiet in there, and she wondered what they was doing. She didn’t hear any scuffling, so they couldn’t be hurting the girl. Maybe they was just waiting for her to start. Ida waited too. Then she heard a slap. She heard Jules Raynard say: “That won’t help.” Sam Guidry said: “It worked before.” It was quiet again. Then Jules Raynard’s voice, gentle, like a father talking to his child. He told the girl about the letter and she wasn’t accused of nothing. Tee Bob had said over and over she was innocent of everything. And it was this, nothing else, that made her tell them what had happened. Ida heard it all from the other side. She had squatted down on the floor, with her ear to the wall, and she heard every word the girl said. She said when Mary Agnes got through talking, Guidry said: “I want to know one thing—and this better be the true. Did he rape you?”
“No, sir,” the girl said. “When I started by him, he grabbed me and swung me back ’cross the room. I struck my back against the wall and fell. I was almost out, and I saw him standing there over me. He looked scared. Then he turned and ran out the house. I heard Clamp calling me, and I tried to answer him, but I couldn’t. Next thing I knowed, Ida was helping me to bed. But, no, sir, he didn’t do that. Robert was too decent for that.”
“Then what he had to go and do a fool thing like that for?” Guidry said.
Ida said it was quiet in there a moment, then she heard Jules Raynard telling the girl not to ever say a word about this ever again. And they wanted her to get away from here tonight. He asked her if she had any money. She said she had some. He told her he wanted her to leave for New Orleans tonight, and he wanted her to leave New Orleans soon as she could. He told her not to tell nobody where she was going, not even him. Then he called Ida back ’round the other side. He told Ida to go find somebody with a car and tell him—he didn’t care who—to take this girl to New Orleans, and take her there now.
Jules Raynard and Sam Guidry came back to the house and talked to Robert and Miss Amma Dean. I didn’t hear what they had to say, but the next day the newspapers said they had no idea why young Robert Samson of Samson, Luzana had taken his own life. The newspapers said everybody thought he was so happy, knowing in a few weeks that he was go’n be the husband of the beautiful and cultured Judy Major of Bayonne, Luzana. Sheriff Sam Guidry was investsagating the matter, the newspapers said.
The coroner came and took Tee Bob away while I was still at the house. Then Jules Raynard brought me on home. When he stopped before my gate I started to get out the car, but I looked at him again.
“You a good man, Mr. Raynard,” I told him.
“Because I didn’t let them kill her?” he said, over his shoulder.
“Yes, sir.”
“We caused one death already this evening,” he said. I sat in the back seat looking at him; he was looking out at the rain. “Jimmy was right,” he said. “We all killed him. We tried to make him follow a set of rules our people gived us long ago. But these rules just ain’t old enough, Jane.”
“I don’t understand you, Mr. Raynard,” I said.
“Somewhere in the past, Jane,” he said. “Way, way back, men like Robert could love women like Mary Agnes. But somewhere along the way somebody wrote a new set of rules condemning all that. I had to live by them, Robert at that house now had to live by them, and Clarence Caya had to live by them. Clarence Caya told Jimmy to live by them, and Jimmy obeyed. But Tee Bob couldn’t obey. That’s why we got rid of him. All us. Me, you, the girl—all us.”
“Wait,” I said. “Me?”
He looked back over his shoulder.
“You, Jane,” he said.
“All right, lets say I’m in there,” I said. “Where I fit in, I don’t know, but let’s say I’m in there. But the girl: you mean she was leading him on all this time, then
at the end she backed down?”
“It wasn’t nothing like that,” he said. “She led him on for just a second. And maybe not that long. And even then she didn’t have control over herself.”
“Who told you this?”
“Nobody,” he said. “If she had said it, Guidry would ’a’ put her in jail for the rest of her life. If Tee Bob had put it in that letter, Robert wouldn’t ’a’ waited for Guidry to put her in jail; he would ’a’ broke her neck with his bare hands. Nobody told me—but it happened. Sure as I’m sitting here, it happened.
“When he came to the house, he poured his soul out to her. He wanted to put her in that car, take her away from here, and never see none of us again. She was the only thing that meant a thing in this world to him. But instead of her falling in his arms, she told him the same thing Jimmy Caya had told him earlier. She was a nigger, he was white, and they couldn’t have nothing together. He couldn’t understand that, he thought love was much stronger than that one drop of African blood. But she knowed better. She knowed the rules. She was just a few years older than him in age, but hundreds of years wiser.
“But no matter what she said, he kept telling her love was everything. She gived up trying to talk to him; she got her suitcase and started for the door. That’s when he grabbed her and swung her back. The weight of the suitcase slammed her ’gainst the wall. Now he was standing over her. To carry her to that car? To choke her? To rape her?—I don’t know. But he was standing close enough to see something in her face. (No, he didn’t say it, because Robert would ’a’ come down here and killed her if he had. And if she had said it, Guidry would ’a’ slammed her in jail for the rest of her life.) While he was standing there over her she invited him down there on the floor. Because—”
“But ain’t this specalatin?” I said.
“It would be specalatin if two white people was sitting here talking,” Jules Raynard said, looking round. But he couldn’t look round too far; his weight didn’t allow that.