“Sustained,” the judge said.
“Are you going to tell the truth or what your father wants you to say?”
“Same objection,” Daddy said.
“Overruled.”
“Answer the question,” Mr. Laney said.
Jimmy didn’t say anything.
“Do you remember the question?” Mr. Laney asked.
Jimmy shook his head. “No, sir.”
Mr. Laney glanced at his watch and looked up at Mr. Robinson.
“I asked him a question fifteen seconds ago, and he can’t remember it. How reliable can he be about more remote events?”
“A good point, Mr. Laney,” the judge replied. “But it goes to credibility, not competency. I’ve let both you and Mr. Mitchell stray off course on this memory matter, but I remind you that it is not the primary issue in determining whether this young man is competent to testify.”
Laney turned toward Jimmy. “I’ll ask you again since you can’t remember. Are you going to tell the truth or what your father wants you to say?”
“Both,” Jimmy answered.
Mr. Laney stepped back. “Why do you say both?”
“Because the truth is what my Daddy wants me to say.”
“That’s enough, Mr. Laney,” the judge said. “I’m going to rule he can testify.”
“But what about these imaginary people?” Mr. Laney asked. “I want to question him about his ability to distinguish between reality and fantasy.”
“That, too, I will allow on cross, but I don’t want to keep the jury waiting any longer. I think Jimmy sufficiently understands the requirement that he tell the truth as best he can.” The judge turned toward the bailiff. “Bring the jury back into the courtroom.”
Jimmy stood.
“Please, stay where you are, son,” the judge said. “We’re not finished yet.”
“But I’d like to sit with my mama.”
“Not yet.”
“I’d like to call Dr. Paris to provide background information for the jury,” Daddy added.
“That’s not necessary,” the judge answered. “Proceed with the boy’s testimony.”
Jimmy looked at Mama. She motioned for him to sit, then put her hands together. That meant she was praying for him.
The people on the jury returned to the courtroom. Mrs. Murdock gave him another big smile. It made him wish again that he could be in her classroom in high school. He guessed she’d be the kind of teacher who found out what students liked to do and made it part of the lessons. The best teachers knew how to do that.
— Three —
Jimmy, put your left hand on the Bible and raise your right hand,” Daddy said.
Jimmy put one hand on the Holy Bible and raised the other one. He heard a chuckle from the direction of the special seats.
“The other hand,” Daddy said.
Figuring out right and left was hard, especially when looking at something. Jimmy switched hands, putting his left hand on the Holy Bible and raising his right hand high in the air like a student who knew the answer to a question in school. Another round of twitters came from the people in the special chairs.
“What’s funny?” he asked.
“Lower your right hand so that it’s even with your ear.”
Jimmy carefully lowered his right hand and touched the top of his ear in a sideways salute. Daddy spoke.
“Jimmy, do you promise God and everyone in the courtroom that you will tell the truth?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is that sufficient language for the oath?” Daddy asked the judge.
“Yes, proceed.”
“Jimmy, what is your name?”
It was Jimmy’s turn to laugh out loud. His voice echoed in the large courtroom. At times Daddy could be impatient with him, but his silly question helped Jimmy get over being embarrassed.
Daddy smiled. “Please, tell the members of the jury your full name.”
Jimmy sat up straight and looked at Mrs. Murdock. “James Lee Mitchell III.”
“But everyone calls you Jimmy, right?”
“Yes, sir. It’s a lot shorter and easier to spell.”
“Jimmy, do you know Jake Garner, the man sitting at that table?”
Jimmy looked at Jake. From the witness chair, he couldn’t see the colors of the snake on his arm as clearly. Jake looked at Jimmy but didn’t smile.
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you ever talked to him?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you know why he’s here in the courtroom?”
“Someone invited him to come.”
There was more laughter.
Mr. Robinson spoke. “We’ve had enough levity. We’re here on serious business.”
Jimmy could tell that Mr. Robinson, like Daddy, was used to getting his way.
“Jimmy, do you know Sheriff Brinson?” Daddy asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Is he in the courtroom today?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where is he sitting?”
Jimmy pointed to the bench behind Mr. Laney and waved at Sheriff Brinson. The sheriff gave a slight smile but didn’t wave back.
“Where do you usually see Sheriff Brinson?”
“Where they keep the police cars. Sometimes on Saturdays I help clean the cars, and after I finish, I’ll sit in a car and turn on the blue lights and listen to the policemen talk on the radio.”
“Do you turn on the siren?”
“No, sir.” Jimmy looked at Sheriff Brinson and remembered that he had to tell the truth. “Uh, there was one time I turned on the siren by accident, but I told Sheriff Brinson I was sorry and wouldn’t do it again. He told me it was okay.”
“Is Sheriff Brinson always there on Saturday?”
“No, sir.”
“Are you friends with any of the deputies?”
“Deputy Askew. Mama calls him to find out if he’s going to be there before she takes me to help clean the cars.”
“Is Deputy Askew the one who supervises, uh, takes care of you when you’re there helping clean the cars?”
“Yes, sir. He drives the number-twelve car.”
“Do you ever talk on the radio?”
“No, sir. Deputy Askew won’t let me. It’s not like a telephone. It is only for the policemen to use.”
“Do you ever listen to the people talking on the radio while you’re sitting in the car?”
“Yes, sir, if it’s turned on.”
“Have you ever heard Sheriff Brinson’s voice on the radio?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How did you know it was Sheriff Brinson?”
“Because I know what his voice sounds like.”
Daddy stepped closer. “Have you ever heard Sheriff Brinson talk about Jake Garner on the radio?”
“No, sir.”
Daddy’s eyes narrowed, and Jimmy knew he was in trouble. “Didn’t you hear Sheriff Brinson tell someone on the radio something about Jake Garner?”
“Objection, leading,” Laney said.
“I’ll allow it for this question only,” Mr. Robinson said. “But be sure you let the witness testify.”
Daddy repeated the question. Jimmy rocked back and forth in the chair.
“Yes, sir,” he answered nervously. “But Sheriff Brinson just called him Garner.”
“That’s fine.”
Jimmy could see Daddy relax, and it made him feel better.
“Who was Sheriff Brinson talking to?” Daddy asked.
“Car number five.”
“Who drives car number five?”
“Detective Milligan. I’ve helped clean his car too.”
“What did Sheriff Brinson say about Garner?”
“That he wasn’t interested in arresting Lenny but to pick up Garner.”
“Are those the words he used?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Could you hear what Detective Milligan said?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did he sa
y?”
“Meet me at the jail.”
“What happened after that?”
“I kept cleaning Deputy Askew’s car. I sat on the ground spraying stuff on the tires that makes them shiny. I heard two cars drive into the parking lot. I looked around the back of the car and saw Sheriff Brinson and Detective Milligan get out of their cars. I looked underneath Deputy Askew’s car and could see their feet.”
“Did they see you?”
“Objection,” Laney said. “Speculation.”
“Sustained.”
“Did they say anything to you?” Daddy asked.
“No, I was sitting by the tire, and they didn’t see me.”
“Judge,” Mr. Laney began. “He shouldn’t be able—”
The judge turned toward the jury. “The jury will disregard the witness’s opinion about what any other individuals may or may not have seen.”
“Where was Deputy Askew?” Daddy asked.
“He’d gone inside the jail to get us something to drink. We get thirsty washing cars on a hot day.”
“What did Sheriff Brinson say to Detective Milligan?”
Jimmy remembered the day at the jail. He could smell the spray he squirted on the tires to make them shiny. He could feel the rough pavement on the back of his legs. He could hear the two men talking.
“Sheriff Brinson said Garner was selling drugs and that the drugs they’d found at Lenny’s house couldn’t belong to Lenny because”—Jimmy paused—“he was an undercover GBI agent.”
“Do you know what that means?”
“No, sir.”
“But you’re sure that’s what Sheriff Brinson told Detective Milligan?”
“Objection, leading,” Mr. Laney interjected.
“Sustained.”
Jimmy looked at Sheriff Brinson. He’d stopped smiling and had a very serious look on his face.
“What happened next?” Daddy asked.
“Detective Milligan told Sheriff Brinson that he didn’t know Lenny was an undercover GBI agent.”
“What did Sheriff Brinson say?”
“He told Detective Milligan to turn in an inventory saying that the drugs belonged to Garner so they would have a good case against him.”
“What is an inventory?”
“I don’t know, but I can still hear the word in my head.”
“What happened next?”
Jimmy wrinkled his nose. “Detective Milligan said he couldn’t do that because it might ruin his career.”
“Do you know what that means?”
“No, sir.”
“What happened next?”
“Sheriff Brinson said he didn’t care where they found the drugs, because he was going to say that they belonged to Garner and sign the inventory himself.”
“What did Detective Milligan say about that idea?”
“He asked him not to do it, because it wasn’t the right way to bust somebody.”
“Are you sure he used the word bust ?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did Sheriff Brinson say?”
“That he didn’t care what he had to do so long as he sent Garner to prison. Then I saw a cigarette fall on the ground, and someone stepped on it.”
The courtroom was completely quiet. Daddy spoke in a soft voice. Jimmy glanced again at Sheriff Brinson, who was staring at the floor.
“Anything else?”
“Sheriff Brinson asked Detective Milligan to keep his mouth shut about Garner. Detective Milligan said he wouldn’t tell anyone first, but if the truth came out, he wouldn’t lie about what really happened.”
“What did Sheriff Brinson do then?”
“He said he would take that chance to protect the people of Cattaloochie County from illegal drugs.”
“Do you know what he meant by illegal drugs?”
“I asked Mama, and she told me drugs are pills, and illegal drugs are bad pills. I would never take a pill from anyone I don’t know.”
“What happened next?”
“They walked toward the jail. I watched their feet and could hear their voices but don’t know what they talked about. Deputy Askew brought me something to drink, and after I finished cleaning the tires, he let me sit in the car and turn on the blue lights. I told him I wasn’t tired and would help clean another car—”
“That’s enough,” Daddy said. “Are you sure everything you’ve told us is the truth?”
“Yes, sir. Did it sound like I made it up?”
Daddy looked at Mr. Laney.
“You may ask,” Daddy said.
ON NIGHTS WHEN DADDY WORKED LATE, JIMMY AND MAMA ATE supper together at the kitchen table. That happened a lot. There were three chairs around the table: Mama close to the refrigerator, Daddy across from her in front of a big window where the morning sunlight could shine on his newspaper, and Jimmy at the end toward the sunroom. One morning Jimmy sat in Daddy’s chair as a joke and opened the sports section as if reading it, but Daddy didn’t laugh and told him to move.
The large formal dining room next to the kitchen could seat twelve people around the big oval table. They ate in the dining room only a few times a year. When that happened, Jimmy sat in a chair next to Mama and could watch himself eat in the reflection from a long mirror surrounded by a thick gold frame that hung on the opposite wall. The mirror reminded Jimmy to keep his mouth closed while chewing his food, which was extra important when company came over for dinner. During mealtimes in the kitchen, Jimmy sometimes forgot to keep his mouth closed, but Mama always reminded him.
Jimmy knew their house was old, but he wasn’t sure about its exact age. When he asked, Daddy shrugged and told him it was built before Grandpa was born. A broad porch with a gray floor stretched across the front and wrapped all the way around one side. When Jimmy and his friend Max were little, they liked to race their Big Wheels on the porch like they were on a drag strip.
The two-story house was painted white and topped with a gently sloping red roof. The house had lots of windows. Jimmy hadn’t counted them, but he’d helped wash the ones on the first floor. He stood on a stepladder to clean the lower windows while Grandpa, who wasn’t afraid of heights, climbed a big ladder to clean the others. Grandpa told him a family with four girls lived in the house before Daddy bought it. It was hard for Jimmy to imagine girls sleeping in his bedroom and eating in the kitchen.
Several big oak and maple trees shaded the front yard. When the leaves fell to the ground in the fall, Jimmy helped Grandpa and Daddy rake them into piles almost as high as Jimmy’s head. Then Jimmy would hide beneath the leaves and let his dog, Buster, try to find him. Buster had no trouble running right to him. Grandpa told Jimmy that Buster knew his master so well that he could smell him a long way off and hear him breathing underneath the leaves even if Jimmy lay completely still.
The evening after Jimmy testified, Mama prepared one of his favorite meals for supper—mashed potatoes, creamed corn, and meat loaf with a chewy red crust. When she fixed his plate, she scraped some of the red crust from the pan onto his piece. Mama didn’t bake meat loaf in the oven; she cooked it on top of the stove. Jimmy had never tasted the other kind, but he knew Mama’s was the best in the whole world.
“Will Daddy eat supper with the people who sat together in the courtroom?” he asked.
“No, they don’t let the lawyers spend time with the jury outside of the courtroom.”
“Then how do they get to know each other?”
“They don’t. The jury’s job is to listen to people like you who answer the lawyer’s questions. That’s called testimony. After the jurors hear all the testimony, they will decide what is going to happen to Jake Garner. The lawyers can’t talk to the jurors except when everyone is together in the courtroom.”
“Is Jake Garner a bad man?”
Mama pressed her lips together for a second before answering. “He’s your daddy’s client.”
“Would it be nice to invite him over for supper?”
“No, I don’t th
ink that would be a good idea.”
Mama bowed her head.
“Let’s pray,” she said.
Jimmy closed his eyes. Mama always said the blessing before a meal except when company came. Then Daddy prayed in a voice that sounded different from his normal talk. Jimmy usually said a quiet blessing before eating his lunch at school unless he was too hungry and forgot.
“What’s going to happen to Jake?” he asked when Mama finished the prayer.
“That depends on the verdict.”
“What’s a verdict?”
The front door opened. Jimmy heard Daddy drop his briefcase on the floor in the dining room. Mama didn’t say anything. She had an anxious look on her face. Jimmy took a big bite of meat loaf. It was delicious, the perfect mix of sauce, onions, bread crumbs, and meat. Daddy came into the room.
“Case dismissed!” he said, clapping his hands together. He sounded happy. “I called two alibi witnesses and then put Garner on the stand. He did better than I expected. Steve Laney risked a mistrial on cross-examination by trying to introduce unrelated criminal charges as similar acts. I don’t know what he was thinking.”
Jimmy swallowed. “Did he show everyone the snake on his arm? I never could see its head.”
“No, he put on his jacket before he testified,” Daddy replied, smiling broadly at Mama. “But the real coup de grâce fell when I called Sheriff Brinson. After Jimmy’s testimony, Laney knew it was coming, and during a break he sent Brinson over to the jail to get him out of the courtroom. When I asked for the sheriff to come forward and be sworn, Laney told the judge that Brinson had left the courthouse to take care of important law enforcement business. I didn’t say a word. I simply put the service copy of the subpoena on the bench in front of the judge and waited for the storm to break. Robinson clamped down so hard on that pen he chews that I thought it might crack in two. He ordered one of the bailiffs to find the sheriff and escort him back to the courtroom, voluntarily or involuntarily.”
Mama shook her head. “It’s still kind of sad, bringing down the sheriff. Maybe you shouldn’t be so happy about it.”
“What?” Daddy snorted. “My only pleasure is in exposing a lie.”
“Well, it still makes me feel”—Mama paused—“uneasy.”
Daddy loosened his tie and smiled slightly. “The chance to ambush the prosecution like that only comes along a few times in a lawyer’s career, and there was no way I would let it pass. Anyway, it would have been unethical for me to ignore the sheriff’s conduct. I have to represent my client to the best of my ability, even if in a court-appointed case.”
Jimmy Page 3
