“It’s like everything’s fallin’ apart,” I said.
“I know,” Grandma said. “But we’ve got to be strong. Not only for your Daddy, but for the family. You and me, we can pull this through.”
“Think so?”
“I do.”
“How?”
Grandma was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know exactly, but these murders, all this business with Mose, they’re connected in more ways than one. I know your Daddy gave you a trust, Harry, but now might be the time to break that. Mose is gone. I know about the murders. Is there anything you can tell me? Maybe I can help. And if we can help, that sure won’t hurt your Daddy.”
She was right. I had kept my word, and now it seemed to me it was no longer necessary. I told her all that I knew. I did choose, however, to leave out the part about Mr. Smoote’s daughter.
When I finished telling her the story, Grandma said, “This Nation. He seems to pop up at all this business. And his two boys. You say they’re just like him?”
“Except even more snivelin’.”
“Miss Maggie, I bet she knows a little somethin’ on everybody in town. Wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Come on then.”
Grandma drove her car over to Miss Maggie’s place. Miss Maggie was sitting on the back porch fanning herself with a church fan. When she saw us come up, she grinned around the teeth she had left.
“Well now, if it ain’t Miss June.”
“Howdy, Maggie,” Grandma said. “You got any coffee on?”
“No, I ain’t, but I can sure git it on.”
Grandma and Miss Maggie had theirs black. Miss Maggie poured me a half cup, put cream in it out of a can, and a lot of sugar. She placed it on a cracked saucer. We took our coffee out on Miss Maggie’s porch.
Grandma talked about some general things, then skillfully turned the conversation to the Nations.
“Them Nations,” Miss Maggie said. “They’s a bad lot. But mostly cowards. They throwed Old Man Nation out of the Klan ’cause he too stupid.”
“That tells us somethin’,” Grandma said. “It ain’t like you’re dealin’ with a bunch of Edisons there in the first place.”
“Oh, they’s people in ole Klan you wouldn’t believe. I use’ta work for a white man was Klan, and he was right smart and jest as nice to me as could be. But he in the Klan. Cleanin’ his house, I fount his robes. He go on to make a judge.”
“Another kind of robe,” Grandma said.
“Uh huh,” Miss Maggie said.
“Maggie,” Grandma said, “I’m gonna tell you somethin’ that’s supposed to just be family business. But I’m gonna tell you about it, ’cause I think I can trust you, and maybe you can help me and Harry here out. His Daddy, this thing with Mose—”
“Po ole Mose.”
“Yeah,” Grandma said. “Well, Jacob, he’s a good man—”
“Oh, Lord yes. I know Missuh Jacob done all he could. He ain’t a bit like his Daddy.”
“You knew his father?” Grandma said.
“Yes’m, I knew him. Real well. No disrespect to the boy, it bein’ his grandfather and all. But I don’t miss him none.”
“No one else is missin’ him much either,” Grandma said.
“There’s peckerwoods right proud of themselves, goin’ out and gettin’ ’em an old nigger can hardly stand up and hangin’ him. No disrespect to you and Missuh Harry.”
“None taken. Wasn’t any way Mose did any of this. I knew him too. Many years ago. Me and my husband used to fish with him. He taught Jacob and Harry both to fish.”
“He thought a lot of Missuh Jacob and Missuh Harry. He used to come see me sometime.”
I noticed that Miss Maggie’s eyes were teary.
“Me and him was kind of together oncet. After his wife run off. But his boy needed him a lot. Wasn’t right in the head. Liked to run off and live in the woods. I tole him didn’t matter none. Me and him could take care of that boy better’n jest him. But he didn’t want to move off from down there on that river, and I just couldn’t do it. Go there, I mean. I got my place here. Then the boy disappeared, and there was them rumors ’bout Mose killin’ him, or some such. But wasn’t nothin’ to it. We didn’t never go back like we was, but he stopped by from time to time. You know what I mean.”
“I know,” Grandma said.
I didn’t. I thought about it. I guessed maybe he stopped in like us now and then for coffee.
“I wish’t I could’a gone to his fun’ral.”
“We didn’t know who to invite,” Grandma said. “Couple folks Jacob knew who knew him come out. We’d have known, we’d have come got you.”
“I ’preciate that. They’s lots of things ’bout me I ain’t made no point on, though. So ain’t no way you’d have knowed.”
“Don’t suppose you have any idea who could have done these murders. Ones Mose was blamed for.”
“I knew, I’d said other time we was talkin’.”
“Not even rumors?”
“Rumors was what got Mose hung up like that.”
“I see your point.”
“I think it be a Travelin’ Man, just like me and Missuh Harry talk about.”
“And if it isn’t a Travelin’ Man?”
“Anyone could be a Travelin’ Man, he sell his soul. I’d keep my eye on them Nations. One of them boys … Don’t remember which’n, but one of ’em is crazy. They all crazy, but he’s the craziest. Starts fires. Raped couple colored gals in the past that folks know ’bout. Wasn’t nothin’ could be done ’bout it. No one wanted to do nothin’ ’bout it. Missuh Jacob, he tried, but the girls and their families wouldn’t talk. Klan done come to see ’em, tole ’em it best jest to stay hush of it. There’s a little light-faced, freckled colored boy over there on the other side of the river belong to a girl ain’t no more than sixteen. She was thirteen when it happened. That boy, he a Nation’s child. Old Man Nation, he thought it was funny. Just his boy sowin’ his oats on a nigger. And ain’t none of what I’m tellin’ you is rumor. Everybody know it … These ain’t things to be talkin’ in front of a boy.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Grandma said. “But me and Harry want to find who’s doin’ all these murders. We got to do it. Jacob, he’s not doin’ so good now. Life isn’t treatin’ him good. He sees this as his fault.”
“I don’t know we want to be meddlin’ with no Travelin’ Man. And I’ll tell you now, you ain’t never gonna set things right. Ain’t nothin’ ’round here ever gonna be on the plumb.”
“Come on, Maggie. It’s a flesh-and-blood man done this. I was thinking maybe you could ask around. You know people I don’t.”
“You mean coloreds.”
“I’m not privy to them. I don’t want nothin’ from nobody except to boil down all the lard, and get to the bottom of this. Find out who’s killin’ these women.”
“I do what I can. You drink another cup of coffee?”
“I surely would,” Grandma said.
“Miss Maggie,” I said. “You know Red Woodrow, don’t you?”
’Course I knew the answer, but I wanted her take on things.
“I do.”
“He hasn’t been a big help,” Grandma said. “He didn’t want Jacob meddlin’ in dead colored business.”
“That what he said?” Miss Maggie asked.
I told her what I had heard when he spoke to Daddy, and then when he spoke to Mama.
“Little Man,” Miss Maggie said. “Everything ain’t exactly as it looks all the time. I prac’ly raised that boy. He know better than that … Red, he come here to see me from time to time. Brings me groceries.”
“Red does?” I said. “Red Woodrow?”
“He the one,” Miss Maggie said.
Grandma and I sat silently for a time.
“Things he says …” I said.
“Sometimes folks mouth-say things they hear, but their heart, that’s what talk for how they really is.”
/> “And how does his heart talk?” Grandma asked. “His voice seems to want to keep Jacob out of finding out who done these things.”
“I ain’t gonna talk on it anymore,” Miss Maggie said. Suddenly it had grown uncomfortable on the porch; it was as if a wave of cold air had blown in, wrapped around us, and was squeezing us like a jungle snake.
“I need to go on and rest,” Miss Maggie said. She stood up slowly. She didn’t mention the coffee again. We thanked her, returned our cups to the table inside. Miss Maggie disappeared behind a curtain that she had hung up to separate her cooking and eating quarters from where she slept. She went behind the curtain and didn’t come out.
We left, closed the door quietly, and walked back to the car.
On the way home in the car, Grandma and I talked awhile.
“What was wrong with Miss Maggie?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Harry. But it might be somethin’ we ought to know.”
“And it might be meddlin’, Grandma.”
“You’re right about that. It’s a surprise to me. I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings. I guess, having helped raise Red she’s got an investment there. And knowing how he turned out …”
“He brings her groceries.”
“He cares for her, Harry, but that doesn’t mean he sees her as a full person. People feed and water mules, but that doesn’t mean they value their opinion.”
“They don’t have an opinion.”
“Yes, but humans do. Tell you what. Let’s put this Miss Maggie business aside, and figure what we do know. You stop me I get any of it wrong, or it ain’t the way you see it. Murderer ties his victims up. Sometimes in kind’a odd ways. He’s killed three women we know about, maybe four. Is that the way it is?”
“Yes ma’am. I think so.”
“And they’re all colored? Except for one. They were all put in the river or were found near it.”
“Except for the one blown around by the tornado, but she could have come from the river. Storm went through there, so it makes sense.”
“The colored doctor you was tellin’ me about …”
“Doc Tinn.”
“Doctor Tinn thinks whoever kills these women comes back to bother their bodies. How am I doin’ so far?”
“Okay.”
“Question is, why?”
“Killer’s crazy?”
“Somethin’ to that, I guess, Harry. But if you had some idea why, then you could maybe ease in on who’s doin’ it. ’Course, there may not be any reason. But I’m one of them thinks there’s damn near a reason behind everything. Even crazy folks have reasons. They may not be logical to us, but there’s some kind of reasonin’ there. I guess unless you’re so damn crazy you don’t know who you are or what day it is. But a fella like this, he’s around here amongst us, seemin’ normal. So somethin’ sets him off, or there’s some kind of thing cookin’ in his head that makes it all seem logical. And maybe he can’t help himself. He might not even want to do it. Another thing is, we got to figure it’s someone likes the river or can get to it easy. Someone who knows the area down there, or how to get these women off by themselves. Someone is bound to have seen somethin’.”
“Mose was like that,” I said.
“Like what?”
“He lived by and liked the river.”
“So he did.”
“And there ain’t been another murder since he was hung.”
Grandma nodded. “But you and me don’t think it was Mose, do we?”
“No ma’am, not really. Be easier if it was.”
“In a way. Then again, that may be why your Daddy gets worse and worse. He don’t want no one murdered, but he’s got to wonder, it’s all stopped now, so was it Mose? Was he protectin’ a guilty man? And he’s got to wonder too, if it wasn’t Mose, who is it? And if he’d caught the real culprit, wouldn’t none of this happened to the old man.”
“Guess Daddy mentioning at the Halloween party that someone was arrested kind of got the ball rolling. That’s why he feels so guilty.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t say who he had or where they was, did he?”
“No ma’am.”
“Mr. Smoote, or the boy helped put on Mose’s chains, or both of ’em, could have talked, couldn’t they? And probably did. That solves how anyone knew Mose was a suspect and where he was being kept. We don’t have to think on that one too hard. Either by intention or stupidity, they couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Next thing is someone comes by and warns that Mose is going to be hung. Who would do that?”
I shook my head.
She continued. “Could be someone got the word, wanted to save the old man. That’s the obvious idea, now ain’t it?”
“Yes’m.”
“But say it’s the murderer, and he wants to save Mose ’cause he knows Mose ain’t the one?”
“But why would a murderer save Mose?” I asked. “That seems like just what he’d want, someone else to take the blame.”
“Maybe the murderer can’t help himself. He’s driven by somethin’ else. He don’t want no one else to take the blame … This Groon. Maybe he warned your Daddy.”
“He could have.”
“Maybe he heard and wanted to help your Daddy and Mose out. Maybe he didn’t want to see an innocent man die for something he knew the fellow didn’t do.”
“ ’Cause he did it?”
“I ain’t sayin’, just speculatin’.”
“But Mr. Groon?”
“Again, I’m just speculatin’. I’ve read some detective books, and if there’s one thing I know from them, it’s everyone is a suspect. Excluding me and you, Tom, your Mama and Daddy, of course. Think about this. You didn’t expect someone like Groon to be in the Klan either, did you?”
“No.”
“Another thing. Groon. Ain’t that a Jewish name?”
“I don’t know.”
“I knew some Groons out in West Texas, and I know they was Jewish. Name sounds German, but it ain’t. It’s Jewish. Oh, I guess this fella you’re talkin’ about could be German, but these folks I knew weren’t German. They was practicin’ Jews … If this here Groon is a Jew, won’t that be ironic?”
“Ironic?”
“Kind of plays back on itself. That’s what it means. You see, Klan don’t like Jews neither. But this fella, he’s been in the community so long, they don’t even consider him Jewish. Probably goes to a Christian church.”
“He’s a Baptist, like Mama,” I said.
“You said you saw a car with a busted taillight drivin’ off after leavin’ the note?”
“Yes ma’am.”
We drove along in silence for a moment, then Grandma said, “I’m turnin’ this bucket around.”
We drove to Groon’s store. Out back of it, under a huge pecan tree, his black Ford was parked. Grandma eased up behind it and stopped. She leaned toward the windshield, squinted her eyes for a look.
“He’s got both taillights,” she said. “Could have fixed it. Wouldn’t take much. I’ve fixed a taillight myself. Where would he get parts for a taillight around here, Harry?”
“There ain’t a garage here,” I said.
“Who mechanics?”
“Everyone ’round here pretty much does his own work,” I said. “It’s something serious, they take it to Tyler. That’s where he’d have to get parts.”
“Less he had some spares,” Grandma said. “And he’s sure had plenty of time to fix it.”
“Yes ma’am. I guess so.”
“We ain’t gettin’ anywhere, are we, boy?”
“No ma’am.”
“You say this Doc Tinn had some ideas on this kind of killer?”
“He seemed real smart, Grandma. Lot smarter than Doc Stephenson.”
“Why don’t we go see him?”
“I don’t know, Grandma … I mean, you know, a white woman in colored town, talkin’ to a colored man.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Yes ma’am … I mean, D
oc Tinn. You and him talkin’, and him bein’ colored and thought to be uppity ’cause he’s smart and a doctor … Bad words gets out … It could be like Mose.”
“You got a point, Harry. But I’m thinkin’ selfish. I want to help Jacob. And we ain’t gonna get Doc Tinn in no trouble … Pappy Treesome still there, runs the general store?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Then there’s a way.”
Grandma turned the car around, and we headed for Pearl Creek.
18
We drove over to Pearl Creek, and as we neared Grandma said, “Here’s how we’ll do it, Harry. We’ll go to the general store. Say we’re low on gas, which we are, and we’ll buy some. We’ll go in the store and get soda pops, but before we do that, you run over to Doc Tinn’s place … Said it was close, right?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“You run over there, and you tell him I’d like to speak with him at the store. Bring his wife if he wants. That way ain’t nobody gonna blame him for messin’ with me. He comes to the store, I want to ask him some questions only I think he can answer. Tell him we’re tryin’ to clear Mose’s name and help Jacob. We’re tryin’ to get the real killer. Okay?”
We arrived in Pearl Creek just as black rain clouds were rolling in. Their shadows fell over the road and over the general store, moved on, were followed by even darker shadows that pooled over everything and hung there.
“That’s what I meant about East Texas,” Grandma said getting out of the car. “You don’t go long without rain.”
Only it wasn’t raining, just clouding. I went inside and talked to Pappy Treesome. He took me out back and filled me a can with gas. He walked with me around front, jerking his body this way and that. When he saw Grandma they hugged.
“How’re you doin’, you ole horse thief,” Grandma said.
He was wearing his store-bought teeth today, so I could understand him, even if there was an occasional click and pop from the teeth slipping.
“I was real young when I stole that horse,” Pappy said.
“When you was young is farther back than I can count,” Grandma said.
While they were talking, I eased off to Doc Tinn’s place, and Grandma went up the steps into the general store with Pappy. I heard Pappy’s plump wife, Camilla, yell out, “Ah, Miss June, you ain’t aged a day.”
The Bottoms Page 19
