Breaking Matthew

by Jennifer H. Westall

“I’m nothing like you. I want nothing to do with controlling the people I love. I would never force someone to do what I want rather than allowing them to make their own choices.”

  “Is that so?”

  The corner of his mouth tipped as he stared into my soul. I couldn’t stand one more second of being in the same room with him, so I left as quickly as I’d come in. Once I was down on the street again, I stomped through the rain back toward the courthouse where my car was parked, continuing my argument with him in my mind.

  I was nothing like him. Nothing! But his words cut into me, digging into my motives for wanting that money in the first place. Maybe I was trying to force Ruby into accepting my help, but that was different. He was pushing me to do what he wanted; be who he wanted me to be. It had nothing to do with loving me. It was not the same!

  By the time I got back to Ruby’s cell, I thought I might just come right out of my skin. How could I explain that I’d failed her once again? That she’d have to stay in this awful place for who knew how long?

  She was standing on the other side of the cell, her face turned toward the light coming through the small window, her hands lifted by her side. Her eyes were closed, and her lips moved with what I assumed to be a silent prayer. I was intruding on something private, a conversation I knew was none of my business, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away. She practically glowed from the inside out.

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and she tilted her head back. “Your will be done, Father,” she said. Then she opened her eyes and saw me watching her. She smiled.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  She smoothed her hair. “I uh…just finished talking with Mr. Oliver a little while ago.”

  “Well?” I said.

  She stared at the floor, saying nothing for a little while. Eventually she walked over to me, resting her hands on the bars in front of me. I thought about placing my hands over hers, but that seemed too close, too intimate.

  “I’ll be fine once this is all settled.”

  “What did Mr. Oliver say?” I didn’t think I could keep it together much longer.

  “He seems to think I can plead guilty to manslaughter and get a lighter sentence.”

  “What?” I stepped back from the bars. “Plead guilty? That’s crazy! You can’t plead guilty to something you didn’t do!”

  She touched her palm to her forehead. “You don’t understand—”

  “Make me understand, Ruby. Explain to me how you ending up in jail for something you didn’t do makes any sense at all.”

  “I am not innocent in this!” She pointed into her chest. “What I did caused that man to die! I’m the reason he’s dead!”

  “That man was a sorry excuse for a human being, and he got what he deserved! Don’t throw your life away because of him.”

  She shook her head and stepped back. “No, I’m not going to put my family and everyone else through a trial. I’ll take responsibility for this. That’s the only way.”

  “The only way for what? For you to end up in jail? You can’t be serious. I’ll get you out of here, I swear. Then we can fight this together.” I had no idea how I was going do that. I’d have to get my money back from Father, but I’d figure something out.

  “You will do no such thing! You get yourself up to Nashville, go to your interviews, and start your new job.”

  “Don’t start that again. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Mr. Oliver says if I plead guilty to manslaughter, the judge will take it easy on me. Maybe I won’t even have to go to jail. I could get some kind of probation.”

  “I don’t think you should trust that man. I think I know him from somewhere. I can’t remember exactly where, but my gut says something’s not right here.”

  “You think he’s lying to me?”

  “I ain’t saying that. I don’t know exactly. But I don’t think you should plead guilty. That ain’t the truth. Ruby, I know we ain’t been close for a long time, but I never knew you to be a liar.”

  Her face flinched slightly, and I could see my words hit a nerve. “I’m not trying to lie. It’s just…I thought if I could make this easier, then everyone could get on with their lives.”

  “Make it easier for who? Look, I don’t know what happened at the Calhoun place, but I know for certain there ain’t gonna be nothing easy about any of this. I don’t think the Calhouns are gonna just let you get off easy. They already got people in the town believing you committed murder. The paper’s printing all kinds of lies. You got to see reality here before you get yourself in a mess of trouble.” I could see her struggling with my words. “For once, Ruby, just listen to me. Do not plead guilty. Let’s get you out of here and start working on a defense.”

  She closed her eyes and dropped her forehead onto her hands. “Matthew, please don’t make this any harder than it is already. I cannot accept your money.”

  “I’m trying to help you!” How could she be so stubborn at a time like this? It was becoming increasingly clear that Ruby hadn’t changed one little bit. I pounded my fist on one of the bars.

  Then she met my gaze with damp eyes that pierced right through me. “I know you’re trying to help. You just can’t fix this.”

  Looking down at those eyes, I saw the same girl who’d filled me with hope during my darkest hours. The dreamer, who believed in me no matter what. The fighter, who never let me wallow in my sorrow. My chest tightened, and I prayed that somehow, now that she was in need, I could give her hope as well.

  “Ruby, don’t give up. You can fight this. You won’t be alone, I swear.” I covered my heart with my hand. “I will not let you down when you need me this time. Don’t plead guilty.”

  “All right,” she said, throwing her hands out to the side. “I won’t plead guilty. But I won’t let you spend one dime on this, you hear?”

  “What? How else—”

  “Not one dime!”

  “So how else are you gonna get the money to get out of here?”

  “That’ll be my concern, not yours. Now there’s nothing more for you to do, so get on up to Nashville and do your interviews.”

  “I already told you. I’m not going anywhere, so quit trying to get rid of me.”

  She huffed and went back over to her cot, throwing herself onto it. “Fine. Do what you want. But I’m exhausted. I’m going to rest for a while.” Then she turned to the wall and pulled a blanket over her head.

  I watched for a few moments as she tried to hide the tremor in her shoulders. “Ruby?”

  No answer.

  “Are you ever going to forgive me?” I asked.

  No answer. I stood there and waited—for what, I wasn’t sure. But the cell was so quiet, I could hear the drip of the pipes in the walls. As I turned to leave, her voice drifted through the air.

  “I don’t know.”

  That afternoon I drove out to the Graves farm just outside the city limits of Hanceville. It was a pretty little piece of land with a small but sturdy house in the middle. A small wood was off to the east, with a creek that ran alongside the house. And off to the north, behind the house, were several acres of farmland that had been recently laid by in preparation for winter.

  When I drove up, Asa was over at the barn, chopping wood. He straightened and waved to me as I got out of my car, strolling over to meet me at the front porch with an outstretched hand.

  “What brings you out here today?”

  “I was hoping I could speak with you and Mrs. Graves about Ruby.”

  “Sure, sure. Come on inside.”

  He ushered me into a cozy living room with a bedroom off the back. Over to my left was a table with four chairs, and a neat little kitchen just beyond. Mrs. Graves gave me a half-smile as she worked at the stove.

  “Why, Matthew,” she said, her voice tired. “Come on in and have a seat.” She probably hadn’t slept much the night before either.

  I took off my hat and slid into a chair at the table. As I did, I caught sight of the newspaper on t
he floor nearby. I leaned over and flipped it to the side with the front-page article about Ruby.

  “You haven’t burned this yet?” I said.

  Mrs. Graves frowned. “I plan to. Soon as I get done fuming over it. The nerve of that man.” She shook her spoon in the air.

  “Which one?” Asa said, taking the chair to my right.

  “All of them,” she said. “Mr. Adams, old man Cass, and whoever that rotten excuse for a journalist is who wrote the thing. Curse all of them!”

  “Has Ruby seen it?” Asa asked me.

  I shook my head. “Thankfully, no. I didn’t even mention it.”

  Mrs. Graves wiped her forehead with her apron and went back to stirring her pot. I read the headline again. Hanceville girl charged with murder; Claims self-defense. A picture of the scene at the barn was next to the article. Ruby sat on a hay bale with her bloody hands covering her face. All of it seemed rather tame at first glance, until the reader got into the fourth paragraph, where an unnamed source explained how it couldn’t have been self-defense based on the evidence at the scene. No facts, of course. Nothing to back up his claim, but the paper printed it anyway.

  But that wasn’t even the worst of it. Brother Cass had spoken with the writer, painting a picture of a troubled young lady who used to steal from the soup kitchen at his church. He even hinted at Ruby participating in secret ceremonies connected to witchcraft.

  “I tell you what,” I said. “I don’t understand how Brother Cass can stand in that pulpit every Sunday and preach the Lord’s words, and then turn around and attack a sister in Christ.”

  Mrs. Graves pointed her spoon at me. “Don’t you get me started on that man. Maybe it’s time I had a talk with him myself.” She locked eyes with Asa, and her anger melted. “He wasn’t always like this. Maybe I could reason with him.”

  “You know as well as I do he ain’t gonna listen to reason,” Asa said. “He’s gonna take all his anger he’s built up at me and push it right onto Ruby’s shoulders.”

  “What exactly is Cass so angry about?” I asked. “I thought he just didn’t like Ruby, but it seems like it goes much deeper than that.”

  Asa gave a sideways glance to Mrs. Graves. “There’s a long story there, son. I’ll just say this. His niece passed away many years ago, and he blames me for it.” He dropped his head and muttered, “Rightly so, I reckon.”

  “But what does that have to do with Ruby?”

  Mrs. Graves’s spoon took aim at Asa. “This is precisely why I didn’t want Ruby getting mixed up with your ideas in the first place.”

  “I know,” Asa said. “Maybe you were right. But there ain’t no going back now.” He looked over at me. “You know about Ruby’s gift, don’t you?”

  “Asa!” Mrs. Graves stiffened.

  “Well, he does. Ruby said so.”

  The hair on my neck prickled. I’d never said a word about Ruby’s gift to a single soul. I still clung to the small possibility I’d imagined everything I’d seen. But I figured it was about time to face the truth, and maybe get some answers.

  “I saw her do it once…I think…with that colored woman.”

  Mrs. Graves threw down her spoon. “I can’t listen to this.” She turned and walked out the back door.

  Asa let out a deep sigh as he watched her go. “Grace was her best friend.” I must have looked at him funny, ’cause he backed up a bit to explain. “Brother Cass’s niece, Grace, was Lizzy’s best friend growing up. We all ran around together as kids. Anyway, there’s a long story as to how things got all messed up, but I was angry, and when Grace needed me, needed my gift, I refused to help. Brother Cass blames me for her death.”

  “Forgive me for being dense,” I said. “But I still don’t see what that has to do with Ruby.”

  “Son, when you were sick, Ruby came to me for help. She was desperate. I didn’t think I could help you, but she wouldn’t hear none of it. She marched me right over to your deathbed and we prayed over you. That was the first time Ruby truly experienced what healing was all about.”

  A cool shiver went down my spine as I recalled that night. My nightmare, the one that haunted me whenever I came home, always started with that night. Strange thing was, it never started as a nightmare. It started as a sweet dream of releasing the monster inside my lungs. It only turned awful when I lost Ruby.

  “After that,” Asa continued, “Brother Cass figured Ruby was the same as me. He figured her for a fraud. He never even gave her a chance.”

  I glanced down at the paper again, finally putting together all the comments Brother Cass had made about Ruby early on, before I realized what a snake he was. He knew all along, at least on some level, and he’d judged her as evil.

  “What about the rest of this article?” I asked. “The stuff about the colored folks. Any truth to that?”

  “Honestly, I ain’t sure how close she is to them anymore. She keeps that to herself. I think the idea of her being romantically involved with one of them is garbage, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she was still visiting that woman she was helping before.” Although Ruby’s mother was no longer present, he lowered his voice. “Frankly, I’m concerned it could get out of hand.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s been some hints that Ruby’s a target now, and maybe even us. I ain’t sure. Just overheard things in town yesterday. Some people are saying Chester was a member of the Klan.”

  “That explains a lot. Especially why he’d go after her that first time. Maybe he found out she was still helping them and he wanted to teach her a lesson again. Maybe he heard the same rumor about her being involved with one of ’em. Who knows?” I drummed my fingers on the table, trying to figure out what I could do to help. If it were Ruby out here, and me in that cell, she’d have already figured everything out and returned me safely to my home. She’d save me just by her sheer will. Why couldn’t I do the same?

  “Ain’t there any way to get her the money she needs to fight this without ruffling her pride?” I asked.

  Asa shrugged. “Now, you solve that problem, and you just might be a miracle worker yourself.”

  “What about her brothers? Would they be willing to help any?”

  Asa sighed and shook his head. “Nobody’s heard from Henry in months. He could be anywhere from Mississippi to California. Last I heard he was playing ball in the summer for a semi-pro team in Texas. I think during the fall he works with the Civil Conservation Corps somewhere.”

  “And James?”

  “James is a mess. He’s all worked up about being in the middle of everything. He ain’t gonna be any help.”

  And then it hit me. “What about her church? Would they support her? What about the people in Hanceville she’s helped over the years?”

  “You mean ask ’em for money?”

  “An offering. We could get the church to have a special service. An all-day singing or something. Churches love those kinds of things. They could take up a special offering to help Ruby.”

  “I reckon they’d do it, but I don’t think that little church could come up with so much as a hundred dollars. Maybe not even fifty. People are hurting right now. No one’s got anything to give.”

  I wasn’t listening to his doubts. I’d lit on something I knew would work. And I was prepared to be as determined and persistent as Ruby. “You let me worry about how much money people can donate. You and Mrs. Graves get the singing organized and start letting people in the community know about it. We’ll get that church filled to the steeple with people. You watch!”

  Chapter Eight

  Ruby

  Another day began with me still in jail, and I wondered if God was ever going to speak to me or work His power through me again. I’d prayed most of the night, till I passed out from exhaustion. I’d never felt God’s absence like this, and it was slowly becoming about the loneliest feeling I’d ever had.

  I was grateful to see Matthew when he showed up after breakfast. I was even more grateful when he ha
nded me a gift through the bars. “Here,” he said. “Your mother wanted you to have this.”

  I took Daddy’s Bible and ran my hands over the cover. Then I opened it up to the front where Daddy’s name was written inside in his messy scribbles. My throat tightened, and I had to push back my tears. I missed him so much.

  “Thank you,” I said. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

  “I think I have an idea,” he said. His smile warmed my heart, and chased away the lonely ache in my chest. I’d been trying so hard to push Matthew away, but that morning it just felt nice to have the company.

  “How’s Mary doing?” I asked, realizing we hadn’t talked about anything but my troubles for days.

  “She’s doing real well. Real well. She’s going to college, but I think she spends most of her time studying the young men there rather than her books.”

  “Not surprising.”

  “No,” he said, chuckling. “She’s turned out to be a lovely young lady.”

  “I’m sure she has. She was always kind to me. She was a good friend.” I hung my head, ashamed I’d pushed Mary away after Matthew had left for college. But I simply couldn’t figure out how to be friends with someone and keep my secrets at the same time. I still hadn’t.

  “How about you?” he said. “You ever hear from Henry?”

  “Oh yes, just about every couple of months or so. He’s doing well for himself. Playing baseball out west and working for the Conservation Corps. He’s helped build several projects.”

  “Have you written to him? To let him know what’s going on here?”

  “No. What could he do about it anyhow? I keep asking him in my letters when he’s coming home again, but he doesn’t really answer. Just says he’s very busy.”

  “Well, I can’t judge him,” he said. “Been a pretty lousy brother myself. I can’t say I visit often either.”

  “Why is that?” I asked, more for my own understanding of Henry than anything else. “What’s so hard about coming home?”

  He kicked his foot against the bottom of the cell bars and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s complicated. Father don’t make things easy. He has his own ideas about who I should be and what I should be doing, and I don’t have any use for those ideas. When I’m away, I’m free to make my own choices and be my own man.” Then he blew out a big breath. “Then there’s you.”