The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

  Not until Joe’s head fell back on the floor with a lifeless thud, did Harriett blink. Her eyes narrowed and she realized the extent of what she’d done. Still, there was no burst of tears or words of regret. She simply eased down to the blood smeared floor, pulled Joe into a loving embrace, fixed his clothes and rocked him slow.

  R

  ~CHAPTER EIGHT~

  Savannah’s black community was shocked by the savage double murder of Belleina Stone and Joe Cade. As the quiet street on which the late Ms. Stone resided rarely had any excitement, but for the annual Williams’ Family Reunion, a savage murder was indeed cause for uproar, gossip and scandal.

  Young Jasper Stone arrived home shortly after dawn on the morning after the murders. He’d returned from his landscaping job out at Gray’s Farm to find the back screen door flapping against an unusually brisk morning breeze. The kitchen was in shambles and his mother lay in a pool of thick burgundy ooze. The blood had already begun to congeal around her body.

  Humming an eerie serene tune was Harriett Cade who leaned against the open refrigerator door. She rocked her dead husband as if the man were simply taking a nap.

  ~~~

  Word spread like fire once Jasper got past his shock and phoned the police. Folks made no secret about wanting to know what was going on. They left their beds and breakfast tables to gain a prime spot close to the Stone house.

  There was no place for whispered speculations. Conversation hummed like machinery. Voices gained volume when the bodies were brought out and placed in the County Examiner’s station wagon. Harriett Cade was brought out in handcuffs.

  The aftermath was the only thing more shocking than the crime; which was perhaps only shocking to an outsider with a different sense of logic.

  The town’s women (and the men who were too unsettled to go against them) sided almost unanimously with Harriett Cade. There were already predictions that the woman wouldn’t spend a day in prison following the trial- if there was one. Most everyone knew of the Cade, Cade, Stone triangle and the fact that Harriett Cade had been forced to look in the face of her husband’s betrayal every day for the last 19 years.

  ***

  In the days that followed, talk over the scandal was the highlight of dinner conversation in homes all over town. Conversations at the Ramsey home were no different. Even Marcella; who rarely engaged in gossip, was vocal about the horror.

  “Marcus how is Jasper? I bet the poor thing doesn’t even know which way is up.”

  Marc shrugged, cutting savagely into the steak nestled beneath steamed vegetables. “Guess he’s alright. I haven’t seen him around.”

  “Isn’t he your friend?” Carmen blurted at his careless response.

  Forgetting the steak, Marc sent his sister a sly look across the table. “I got lots of friends, Carm.” He winked.

  Carmen immediately turned her head.

  Marc’s lurid dark gaze clashed with Damon who watched him with unmasked disapproval from his place next to Carmen.

  Suddenly Damon chuckled. The gesture was not humor-induced. “Glad we aren’t friends.”

  “Damon…” Marcella warned, knowing all too well that an argument was in the air. “Anyway Marcus, the boy’s all alone in that house and I’ll bet he’s not eating worth a cuss with mostly everyone siding with Harriett.” She shook her head. “No one’s probably done the Christian thing and taken food to the boy, either.”

  Damon smirked over the whine in his brother’s voice when Marcella told Marcus she was going to have him take some things out to Jasper.

  “You hush; I don’t want to hear it.” Marcella waved off Marc’s arguments with barely a wave of her hand. “Everyone’s always talkin’ about being like the Ramseys.” She smiled and sent a saucy wink toward Quentin who watched the scene quietly from his end of the table. “Now it’s time to see if they really mean it- see if they’ll follow my example.”

  Of course, not everyone wanted to be like the Ramseys. Still, a great number did follow Marcella’s example when word spread of the feast she’d had prepared and sent out to Jasper Stone.

  Even Marcus shed some of his aggravation over being the bearer of the goods, when he noted the admiration on everyone’s faces as they remarked on Ramsey style and graciousness. However, Belleina Stone’s funeral was even sadder given the obviously poor attendance. The Ramseys and a few others attended, but given the extent of Savannah’s black community the numbers were pithy indeed.

  ***

  Winter 1961~

  For lack of better phrasing; the final nail in Belleina Stone’s coffin, came months later in the form of an acquittal for Harriett Cade. In spite of the support she’d garnered, more than a few were stunned by the outcome of the case.

  Georgia law wasn’t known for letting go of its chance to put a black face behind bars for the smallest infraction. To support Harriett Cade seemed to be an expectation of every married woman to stand up and speak out against adultery. There were some who felt Belleina and Joe; for that matter, received a raw deal. Few though were willing to voice it very loudly.

  In spite of Marcella Ramsey’s glowing gesture of food and supplies for Jasper Stone, no one else reached out to the boy except those who’d hopped on the bandwagon in the beginning. Once the newness of that wore off, Jasper barely received eye contact. Marcella at least, maintained her interest in the boy. She sent out food and supplies via one of the town’s markets when she felt he was due.

  Marcus was pretty much useless in regards to passing along information on his friend. Carmen though, was a veritable fount of knowledge on the subject of Jasper Stone. Marcella’s concern over the young man’s overall well-being superseded whatever concerns she may have had involving her youngest daughter’s interest in him.

  Indeed, Carmen had grown very interested. She was deeply intrigued by Jasper’s quiet, self-absorbed manner. In spite of that, she believed he appreciated the conversations they shared- brief as they were. Carmen wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that; aside from the groceries sent by her mother, Jasper had no other human contact. He made no attempt to seek her out, but that mattered very little to Carmen.

  ***

  Jasper cut his sentence short when he heard the crunch of brush underfoot. He saw Carmen approaching from a cluster of trees.

  “Sorry,” she winced over the fact that she was always apologizing. It was to be expected though, since she was always the one intruding upon the quiet shelter he’d constructed about himself.

  “I’m done,” he smirked and turned back to the tombstone.

  “Gosh Jasper, I’m sorry.” Carmen realized the true extent of her intrusion.

  “Don’t be,” he eased a handkerchief in the back pocket of his brown trousers. “I’ve been able to talk to my mother more now than I ever have.” He turned to face Carmen. “Sick, huh?”

  “Sad.”

  “She never gave up hopin’ that Daddy Joe would leave his wife.” He started walking away from his mother’s grave. “All those years and she still thought she was the only one. ‘Cheat’ was Joe Cade’s middle name.”

  Carmen sat next to him when he eased down before the base of a tree. “I’m sorry about Mrs. Cade. She should’ve gone away for what she did.”

  Jasper was shaking his head. “Mama slept with her husband, got pregnant.”

  “What she did was still wrong.” Carmen knocked a stick against the sole of her boot. “People should pay when they hurt others.”

  “Some would say my mother paid for hurting Miss Harriett…and Felix.”

  “Please,” Carmen rolled her eyes and smiled. “Felix loves you- I can tell. When I overhear him talking to Georgie he says he’s lucky to have you for a brother.”

  Despite his mood, Jasper’s light gaze softened. “You know, you’re pretty smart for a thirteen year old.”

  Fourteen as of February eighth.”

  They laughed a while, but as expected, the solemn aura crept up around them again. Carmen used her stick to trace id
le designs into the hard ground. Jasper was again staring toward his mother’s grave.

  “I’m thinkin’ about joining the army.”

  “What?” Carmen’s stick broke beneath the force of her hold.

  “I’m suffocating here, Carm. Guess I didn’t realize how much ‘til now.”

  “But that’s crazy.” She clutched the sleeve of his dark green turtleneck. “Savannah may be suffocating but to trade it for boot camp…?”

  He managed to flash an adorable smile. “Guess it depends on one’s point of view, right?”

  “Jasper…” The idea sickened her and she inched closer throwing her arms about his neck.

  Jasper didn’t shrink from the contact, but welcomed it.

  ***

  While Jasper Stone sat contemplating his future, Charlton Browning literally held the ticket to his own.

  “You sure ‘bout this, man?” Marcus was eyeing his friend’s train ticket to Chicago, Illinois.

  “This shit’s small potatoes,” Charlton eyed the station and the people milling around with a mixture of spite and pity. “I want bigger- better.” He turned to face Marc. “I want the respect you get just by sayin’ your name.”

  Anger outweighed whatever pride Marcus felt from Charlton’s words. “The name belongs to my father,” he sneered, spite sneaking into his dark gaze then. “People have respect for my father’s name, but I’ll have it too- you can count on that. People will hear the name Marc Ramsey and they’ll sit up and take notice.” He saw that Charlton was studying him rather closely and he set a sly smile in place of his sneer. “Least you can glide into Chicago in style with the killin’ we made.”

  “Right on,” Charlton grinned as they slapped hands. “Houston and Jas complain when they got their cuts?”

  “Hell nah,” Marc slipped his hand into the deep pockets of his pea-coat. “Them fools was just happy to see them greenbacks.”

  “Surprised you ain’t slide more Jasper’s way with his mama gettin’ killed and all.”

  Marc shrugged. “My own Mama done spent enough on the nigga to keep the two of us in the finest threads for three years easy.” He muttered a curse over the fact. “I ain’t got time for sympathy- aint’ profitable.”

  “Amen,” Charlt breathed, slapping hands with Marc again.

  ***

  Houston accepted defeat once he’d realized his numerous excuses had no affect on his mother who; because of Damon being away at school, had saddled him with the task of collecting Carmen from the library. The days were shorter and Marcella didn’t want the girl trudging home in the dark.

  Houston parked the gray Ford, checked his watch and sighed. He was about to search the radio dial for a change of music, when he noticed the girl strolling the opposite side of the street. She looked familiar and; after a few moments, he’d recalled seeing her at his family’s cotillion cook out last summer.

  Settling back against the glossy leather seat, he watched her sashaying the tiny black purse she carried. He wondered how old she was- way younger than him that’s for sure. Of course, it could’ve been the blondish brown spiral curls that lent to her youthful look. Whatever it was, she was most definitely good to look at. He found himself wondering if the hair color was real and felt a tightening at his groin over the thought. Then, he saw Carmen leaving the library. The girl his sister spoke with on her way down the steps drove everything/everyone else from Houston’s head.

  As dark as the little blonde nymphet was light, this one had Houston sitting up for a closer look. Another familiar face, he thought. She was fine in a way that was both polished and mysterious. His gaze narrowed while he studied her and then it hit him. The cotillion and fish grease. He recalled the T-shirt she wore: Jeffries Catering. It fell into place then. He recalled how easy and interesting she’d been to talk with. He saw Carmen look toward the car then and he bowed his head to shield his face.

  “Yeah that’s him,” Carmen recognized Houston’s Ford across the street. “Are we gonna study together any more this week?”

  “I’d like to.” Catrina didn’t appear hopeful. “My folks have a catering job for some hospital thing and you know they’re gonna want their best grunt worker for the event.”

  “Sorry girl.” Carmen laughed.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Catrina hefted the strap of her book bag across her shoulder. “Aside from studying at our fantastic library here, I’ve certainly got no better plans.”

  “Everything okay?” Carmen noted a twinge of something unsettled in her friend’s voice.

  Catrina bit her lip while debating on whether to share and then shrugged. “It’s Damon- the boy I told you about? The whole thing’s crazy. I miss seeing him in spite of the fact that we hardly know each other and our conversations rarely last longer than ten minutes.”

  “Aw girl…” Carmen squeezed Catrina’s arm. “I’m sure he misses you too, being back at school and all. Didn’t you tell me he’s away?” She watched Catrina nod while silently marveling that her brother had told the girl so much about his school when he hadn’t even told her his last name. She could only chalk it up to the fact that he didn’t want his time with her ruined by all that being a Ramsey entailed. “It’ll work out.” She predicted.

  “Thanks Carm.” Catrina pulled her into a hug before they parted ways.

  “Wasn’t she at the cotillion?” Houston asked when Carmen settled into the passenger side of the car.

  She pretended to be focused on one of her books. “Yeah, Jeffries is hosting some big thing for the hospital.”

  “Oh.” Houston said.

  The drive passed in silence.

  ***

  At 23, Georgia Ramsey was well past the age when many of her peers were married and rearing their third or fourth child. Georgia didn’t care what that made her. Being tied down with a houseful of crumb crooks wasn’t her idea of a well-lived life.

  Still, like any young woman, she had her dreams of the perfect home and husband. If only she could have the kind of home with the husband she’d choose.

  Georgia gathered her hair into a loose mound and threw back her head while savoring the length of steel she rode upon.

  “Damn G!”

  “Shh!” Her hazel stare glinted sharp when Felix’s bellowing voice filled her bedroom. Her hissed orders for him to quiet down were only met with louder grunts and she wound up tossing a pillow over his handsome face.

  Felix retaliated with a slap to his girlfriend’s bouncing bottom. “What’s the point of havin’ your own crib if you can’t let loose?”

  “This crib is still attached to my folk’s house.” Her grinding slowed. “They got a lot of nosy maids who love to gossip about what I do in here.”

  Felix folded a hand behind his head and let the other fondle one of Georgia’s firm breasts. “You think they don’t know anyway?” He grabbed her hips suddenly and thrust deep before she could reply. His mouth tilted in an arrogant smirk when her sounds of delight filled the room. She didn’t care who overheard.

  ~~~

  “I’m leavin’ G,” he told her later when they relaxed across tangled sheets.

  “Mmm hmm…” she was more interested in the tangled triangle of curls above his soft penis.

  Grimacing, Felix sat up. “I’m leavin’ for good, Georgia.”

  “Why now?” She took heed of his words and flopped back on the bed. “With everything goin’ on, why now?”

  “That’s exactly why- everything goin’ on.”

  “Baby don’t you think your Mama’s gonna need you?” She braced her weight on one elbow and trailed her fingers across his sweat-slicked chest. “Your Daddy bein’ gone and all?”

  “Mama’s got the whole town on her side. She’s revelin’ in that shit.” He raked fingers through his hair and cursed again. “Harriett Cade’s the representative for all women who been done wrong by their man.”

  The couple had to smile when Jerry Butler’s “He Will Break Your Heart” wafted softly through the radio on t
he nightstand.

  “Just like a man to take issue with that.” Georgia tensed and sat up to face Felix across the bed. “Just how much was she supposed to take off Mr. Joe and Belle Stone? Bad enough the wench had his kid, but then he’s still out there screwin’ her like that?” Georgia sucked her teeth. “I can very well understand what your Mama was feelin’.”

  Felix had to chuckle, knowing Georgia definitely understood. Hadn’t she told him on more than one occasion; and in explicit terms, what she’d do to him if she ever caught him with another girl? Strange as it was, he wondered if he’d ever even feel what he felt for Georgia Ramsey with any other woman.

  “I want you with me G. When I leave I want you to come with me.”

  “Well-” her hazel stare faltered to the linens. Uncharacteristically, speechless, Georgia sat clearing her throat for a time.

  “G?” He stroked the long, toned line of her calf.

  “Felix I- I can’t. You can’t.”

  “Jesus Georgia. Trust me, my Mama’s gonna be just fine.”

  “But you can’t leave under a cloud of shame like that. What would people think?”

  “Fuck ‘em.”

  “Felix!”

  He watched her close, not buying the outrage for a second. No, he didn’t buy it not from a girl who once begged him to have sex with her in the grimy flat bed of his truck. She plain told him it was the rush of being discovered that made her want to do it.

  “Come off it G,” he brought his face close to hers. “Daddy’s money is why you won’t leave.”

  “That too,” she smarted as if he’d slapped her. Her sharply lovely features took on a hard sheen.

  He reached for her hand. “Baby I know the money part scares you, but we’ll make it.”

  Georgia bristled and tugged her hand free of his. “How Felix? With the two of us workin’ ‘til our backs break and we come home too tired and weary to do anything?” She waved her hands. “I’ve seen enough people who live that way. Lots of ‘em work for my parents and it’s the last kind of life I want.”