My Water Path

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My Water Path Page 18

by Timothy Joseph


  When we got close to town, he handed me a map and asked where I needed to go. I showed him and he dropped me off at the lane leading to the houseboat. I told him how much I appreciated the ride. He smiled and saluted before he rumbled off down the road.

  It was dark, but the moon was full and I could see pretty well. I ran down the path to the houseboat. When I saw it in the cove, with light shining through the houseboat windows, I ran faster with excitement, until I saw the police car parked in the grass. I stopped in my tracks, crept into the woods, and got as close as I could. I ducked down when I saw the fat cop walk down the ramp to the police car. Surely, the State had called them when they realized I had run away. I kicked myself. Of course—why had I not considered that?

  I watched the car drive down the path and disappear into the night. I waited for about ten minutes to be sure it didn’t decide to come back, and then ran up the ramp without thinking, swung the front door open, and hurried inside.

  “Oh, my God!” Bess said when she saw me. “Jory. We’ve been so worried.” She stuck out both arms and I ran into her grasp. We hugged as Mayhew and Lucilla came running over.

  I let them hug me tight. “You’re back, you’re back,” Mayhew said again and again.

  I looked at Moses. When our eyes met, his arms opened wide, and I quickly settled against his chest. Neither of us said a word. We just hugged for a long moment.

  “I know,” I said as I pulled away. “I’m in trouble. I saw the police car leave.”

  He smiled. “You’re here with us, son. That is all that matters right now. These two young’uns have been moping around something horrible. Tell us what happened.”

  “What did the policeman say?” I asked.

  Mayhew blurted out, “They said they’d toss Grandpa in jail if you showed up and he didn’t turn you in.”

  “Then I can’t stay, Grandpa,” I said, suddenly feeling cold. “I can’t.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Bess said. “You’re staying right here. This is your home. Moses will know what to do.”

  I told them how the State lady had called and was going to take me to an awful foster home, so I left and hitchhiked back to the houseboat. I explained about the lawyer and showed them the card. I asked Mayhew to write down the information for Moses so he would have it and to write it again to give to Jacob. I said I was going to give the lawyer Jacob’s information, and he was going to talk with Jacob, and Jacob could be made my legal guardian, but as soon as that happened, I would live with them. I said it had to be Jacob, since he was white. I told them I had to go talk to Jacob tomorrow and have him call the lawyer.

  “We’ll go first thing in the morning,” Moses said.

  “Why are they doing this to me, Grandpa?” I asked. I was tired, more tired than I had been in a long time. “Why can’t they leave us alone?”

  He pulled me into a much-needed hug. When his arms encompassed me, I felt hope and safety, but it was hard to stay positive in the grip of fear.

  He rubbed my back. “Let’s just enjoy our evening together, Jory. We can’t worry over things we may never know the answer to.”

  Bess came from the kitchen with a plate of oatmeal-raisin cookies right out of the oven. It was wondrous to be home. I looked around, realizing nothing in the world meant more to me than what was right here in front of me. I could not live anywhere else.

  When it was time for bed, Bess pulled me in for a hug and said, “I’m glad you are home, Jory. I worried my head off about you.”

  When we separated, she kissed my cheek, and I kissed hers. I gave her another quick hug, saying, “I don’t ever want to leave here.”

  “We don’t want you to leave us,” she said, and squeezed me a bit harder.

  It was so good to be back in my bunk, talking with Mayhew in the dark, and waiting for sleep. I told him all about the big truck I’d hitchhiked in, how many times the driver had to shift, and how slow it went when starting off. He asked, “What’s going to happen to you when the cop comes back?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, “but I can’t get Grandpa in trouble.”

  41

  Caught Again

  I SAT IN THE BOTTOM OF THE BOAT, leaning against the bow, my head barely above the gunnels, with the canvas pulled up to my shoulders. Mayhew sat in the front seat facing me, and we talked as Moses motored toward Jacob. Mayhew tossed the rope to Max, who tied it up. When he reached down to grab Mayhew’s hand to pull him up to the deck of the tug, he saw me tossing the canvas off. “Jory! Well, I’ll be a dirty diesel.” He helped us all up to the tug.

  Just as I hit the deck, Jacob was walking over. “Look who’s here. How’d you get away?” I must have looked like a criminal, for he said, “You ran away. They’re after you, aren’t they?” I nodded. “Come on,” he said, leading us inside the tug’s main cabin.

  I told Jacob and Max what had happened, and gave Jacob the card with the name and number of the lawyer. “You can call collect,” I said. “He’s expecting you.”

  We went into a building that sat on the dock near the tug. It was the office Jacob and others worked out of. I had been in there before with Jacob and Max and met other dockworkers and Darleen, the woman who was in charge of the office. A few people were sitting at tables, talking and smoking. We went into a side room and Darleen was working on a typewriter at her desk.

  “Darleen, darlin’, we need your help,” said Jacob.

  She smirked at him. “What trouble are you into, now? Hi, Jory. Nice to see you. You’re supposed to be keeping this lubber out of trouble. What’s he gone and done?”

  I smiled. “Hi. Jacob hasn’t done anything. I’m in trouble.”

  “You? Why, you can’t be in trouble.”

  Jacob leaned on the desk. “We have a little problem, sweetheart. Mac, the fat-ass cop, is looking for Jory here. He wants to hand him over to the State, but we’re trying to stop it. Can we use the phone? Need to call a lawyer Jory knows.”

  I said, “We’ll call collect.”

  She looked at me, her mouth tight. “Sure, honey. Boy, I’d like to put my shoe up Mac’s… I’d like to kick him right in the…right between his…eyes. You go right ahead, Jory.”

  I gave her the card. When someone answered, she handed me the phone. I told the lawyer my name, and before I could say anything, he said I needed to come back. The police were looking for me.

  “I’m not coming back.”

  When he explained that I was just making things worse, I told him I didn’t care. I couldn’t go to that foster home. I told him that the man who would be my legal guardian was here, and I handed the phone to Jacob.

  They talked for quite a while. I couldn’t make any sense out of the conversation, hearing mostly “yes” and “no” and “sure”. Jacob paused, glanced at me, and quietly said something about disorderly conduct. I heard him say, “Drunk, fistfight, jail.”

  After a few more minutes, Jacob handed me the phone, saying, “I’m sorry, Jory.”

  I put the receiver to my ear. “Hello.”

  “I’m sorry, Jory, but the State will not give custody to someone who was arrested several times and has been in jail. They aren’t allowed to do that.”

  I thought for a minute. “I’m going to call Stewart. I’m going to ask him to come by and see you, okay?”

  “Sure. Stewart and Madge would be great. I know the State will be glad to do that.”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  I hung up the phone. Jacob must have told Darleen and Moses what the lawyer told him, for they looked upset. Darleen said, “I’m sorry, Jory.” She looked at Jacob, hit him in the belly with the magazine she had in her hand, and said, “You dumbass.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Can I make another collect call?”

  “Sweetheart, you make all the calls you want.”

  I dialed Dad’s store and Stewart answered. When he heard my voice, he told me I needed to come home right away because the police were looking for me. I skipped right
over that and told him he needed to talk to the lawyer, because if he and Madge would agree to be my guardians, the State would turn me over to them, but I could live with Moses. I wouldn’t bother Madge, and I would come by and visit often. I ended with, “Stewart, Dad would want you to do this. Please, for me and Dad.”

  “I’ll go and talk to him, but, Jory, I think Madge will be okay with you living with us.”

  “Stewart, when you meet Moses and Bess, you will know why I want to live with them. This is my family.”

  There was a pause, and then, “I’ll talk with the lawyer tomorrow. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “Please.”

  “Okay. I’ll do my best, Jory.”

  I thanked him, said I would call back tomorrow or the next day, and handed the receiver back to Darleen.

  I looked at Darleen and thanked her, too. “Well!” she said. “What’s the verdict?”

  “Stewart said he’d talk to the lawyer tomorrow, and he and Madge would be my guardians, but I could live here.” I glanced at Moses, realizing I had never asked him if it was what he wanted. I saw his smile, and I knew I didn’t need to ask.

  We headed back home in the boat. I couldn’t wait to tell Bess, Lucilla, and Mayhew about the plans. When we tied off at the houseboat, I hurried to the kitchen door, and bounded inside. My heart sank when I saw Mac, the fat cop, sitting at the kitchen table. Bess was sitting with him, and she had the worst look on her face I had ever seen. I froze. Behind me, Moses walked in.

  “I knew you lied to me,” Mac said. “You done been harboring a fugitive all along. I’m going to have to take you in. It’s jail, just like I told you.”

  Bess started to cry, and Lucilla and Mayhew, standing against the wall, put their hands to their mouths in fear.

  Mac looked at me. “Hey, kid, looks like we done caught you again. Get your things. You’re going with me.” He pushed a button on his walkie-talkie. “We got ’em, Smitty. You can come out of the woods now.”

  “Officer,” I said, “Mr. Kent had nothing to do with this. I came here, and he wanted to take me to you, but I told him no. It’s my fault, not his.”

  “Likely story, kid, but I ain’t that stupid. Harboring a fugitive is against the law. Let’s go, both of you.”

  Bess walked to Moses, and they hugged. I heard him say to her softly, “Everything will be just fine, Bess. Don’t you worry,” and then something else I couldn’t make out. When Lucilla and Mayhew ran to their grandpa, he said the same to them.

  I said to Mayhew, “First thing in the morning, take the boat and tell Jacob me and Grandpa are at the jail.” He nodded. “And tell him to call the lawyer. Darleen knows the number. Okay? Can you remember all that?”

  He said he would, and I knew he would.

  * * *

  Mac put us in separate cells. At least they were adjacent. When he left for the night, I called out and Smitty came to us in the back. I looked at him and asked politely, “Officer Smitty, will you please let me stay with Moses tonight, please? I’m really scared. Please, just until Officer Mac comes in the morning.”

  He looked at Moses sitting against the back wall. “Well, I don’t know. Mac wouldn’t like it. Whites ain’t supposed to be put with coloreds.”

  I figured I would try anything. I squeezed the cell bars tight and forced the tears to come, and when I started trembling, it was real. “Please, Officer Smitty, please. I’m scared. I just want to be with Moses, please.”

  I heard the key go in the lock and the door opened. “Okay,” he said gruffly, “but Mac gets here at eight, and you’re going back in this cell at seven-thirty. And don’t you tell him.”

  “I won’t. I promise. Thank you, Officer Smitty.”

  I slipped past him and into Moses’ cell. He put his arm around me as Smitty shut the door and walked back to the office. Moses smiled at me. “You pulled that one off quite well.”

  I had a lot to tell him, but I didn’t know where to begin. He rubbed my head. “It’s getting late. We best get some sleep.”

  I reached through the bars and pulled the thin mattress off the steel shelf they called a bed. It dropped to the floor, and I pulled it into our cell. Moses pulled his mattress off the shelf, put it next to mine, and lay on his back. I was on my side, facing him, our heads on the hard, blue-striped pillow.

  “Grandpa, I’m sorry. It’s my fault you’re in jail. I’m sorry.” Tears started to flow again, but this time they were real.

  “Now, now, Jory. Don’t blame yourself. It is not your fault.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m the only reason you’re here, and it’s not fair to you. I hate this ugly jail. It’s all my fault. I should have never come back. I should have stayed hidden.”

  “Remember what we talked about, Jory. When you tell yourself you should or shouldn’t have done this or that, and blame yourself for everything bad, all you are doing is arguing with what is. You and I are here, and blaming yourself doesn’t change anything. What is simply is, and this moment isn’t so bad. We’re together, aren’t we?”

  When he heard me sniff back tears, he said, “It’s okay to be sad, Jory. Just remember, I love you, and that’s all that matters right this moment.”

  Pulling myself toward him, I relaxed against his side.

  “And I’m a very lucky old man.”

  * * *

  The next morning, when Mac arrived with Smitty, carrying a tray with toast, milk, and two bowls of oatmeal, I was back in my cell. Mac said, “State says I gots to feed you, so here’s your breakfast.”

  I took mine and looked at Smitty. “Thank you, Officer Smitty…for everything.”

  He looked at me on the sly. “You’s welcome,” he said sternly.

  Moses took his meal. “I thank you kindly, Officer Smitty. This is a nice breakfast, and we appreciate it.”

  Smitty did not want to appear soft in front of Fat Mac. “Like he said, we’s required to feed yous, so just eat.” As Fat Mac turned to return to the front, Moses looked at Smitty, smiled, and nodded his thanks. Smitty turned and followed Fat Mac.

  42

  Hitch a Ride

  JACOB CAME BY AT MIDMORNING. I could hear him trying to talk with Mac and getting nowhere. Mac knew he could push Jacob around. Jacob finally came into the back and said he talked to the lawyer, and Hasbrook would come here right away.

  “Thanks, Jacob,” I said.

  He looked at me. “He didn’t want to come here until I told him I’d come get him and carry him here in the back of my truck if he didn’t, so he better damn well get his ass down here fast.”

  It was midafternoon when Mac came back. “I called the State, and they will send someone by to get you tomorrow, boy.”

  “What about Moses?” I asked.

  “The judge will have to decide that. T’ain’t up to me.”

  “When?” I asked.

  “When I damn well feels like telling him, and when he damn well feels like answering.”

  “But he didn’t do anything.”

  “Boy, you’re beginning to piss me off, and yous best not do that. Hear?”

  “But he—”

  “Boy! If you says one more word about this here nigger, I’ll be having him mopping the entire jail floor, or maybe put him on a chain gang. We makes darkies pay for their food, so shut up or watch him mop your cell.”

  I looked at Moses. He gave me his reassuring slight smile. I knew what he was saying. I shut up, but in my head, I was telling Mac loud and clear what I thought of him.

  Late in the afternoon, the door opened, and the lawyer walked in with Mac. Mac opened both cell doors and let us out. “Seems this here lawyer had the right papers to get you both out.” He looked at Moses. “Yous listen up, nigger. You be hiding this boy again, and I’ll be putting you in prison. Hear me?”

  Moses didn’t say a word. Fat Mac said loudly, “I asked if you heard me.”

  The lawyer said, “I think you’ve said enough, Officer. Let it be.”

  Fat Mac loo
ked at him. “Well, what do you know? A nigger-lovin’ lawyer. If that don’t beat all.” He tramped back to his office.

  The lawyer gawked at Fat Mac, raised his arm, and started to say something. Moses cleared his throat and gently took the man’s arm. When the lawyer looked at him, he shook his head slowly.

  When we got outside the station, the lawyer stuck out his hand to Moses. “I’m Martin Hasbrook.”

  They shook hands. “Moses Kent. I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Hasbrook. I thank you for helping us out.”

  Once out at the lawyer’s car, he told us that Mac had nothing to hold Moses on, for my staying with Moses was not a crime. He had contacted the State, and they were to pick me up tomorrow at Stewart’s house. Madge had agreed to be my guardian, but it would take some time to come about. When I asked how long, he said he didn’t know for sure, but it could be many weeks, and until it happened, I would be placed in a home. I knew which one.

  We took Moses to the houseboat, and I was proud to have Martin meet Bess, Lucilla, and Mayhew. I hugged and kissed Moses and Bess goodbye, telling them I would be back. Mayhew asked when. I told him I didn’t know, and I winked. He smiled back. He knew.

  On the long road back to Stewart’s, I thanked the lawyer for what he did. He said it was what my dad would have wanted. He told me he could see why I wanted to live with Moses and Bess, for they were very nice people, but if I did, to expect many problems from white kids and adults. I told him I didn’t care. “Just be ready,” was his reply.

  We talked about the past, and we talked about Dad. He said that when my mom died, it nearly killed my dad. He said it was as if he had lost his entire world, everything but me, saying if I hadn’t been

  born, my dad would have never survived my mom’s death. He told me what I already knew: Dad was the greatest father there ever could be.

 

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