That Night at the Palace

by Watson, L. D.

  Suddenly, just as Jesse was lifted off his feet, the new line of trucks came plowing into the square. The streets were blocked with cars, but these new trucks pushed their way though, knocking other vehicles out of the way. At one point they drove onto the sidewalks to get around the blockage. Finally, as they entered the square, they jumped the curb and drove onto the courthouse lawn. In the back of each truck stood two or more men, all holding shotguns. The lead driver started honking his horn as the mob began jumping out of the way of the oncoming truck. One of the men on the truck-bed fired a shotgun into the air.

  The crowd stopped everything as the line of trucks pulled to a stop on the lawn between the courthouse and the street. All the men in the back of the trucks were black. Each of them pointed their shotguns at the crowd.

  Jesse was swinging with his legs some five feet off the ground.

  Gemma watched in horror as the entire square grew silent. To her right, Corporal McKinney came running across the lawn with Chief Hightower close behind. Across the way Judge Buckner fought through the mob to where Jesse was hanging.

  “Stop this! Drop that man!” Buckner ordered.

  Corporal McKinney rushed into the open space between the black men in the trucks and the crowd holding Jesse.

  “Enough!” he ordered as he pulled his big Colt .45 from under his coat. “Let the kid go!”

  The men let go of the rope and Jesse fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

  “I’m Brewster McKinney of the Texas Rangers. The next man who fires a gun dies,” McKinney yelled.

  The judge helped Jesse to his feet and pulled the noose from his neck while Cherokee One-Leg climbed out of the passenger side of the lead truck. One of the men in the back of the truck threw a white man from the bed of the truck onto the ground. The black man then leaped from the truck bed, took the white man by the collar, and dragged him to Judge Buckner.

  Cherokee stepped up to the judge. “Here’s your killer.”

  Gemma looked in shock as she could clearly see her Uncle Richard on his knees before the judge.

  The street grew silent to the point that Gemma could hear her own heartbeat.

  Judge Buckner looked down at the man kneeling before him and then at Chief Hightower, who had his gun drawn, and asked, “Chief is this the man?”

  “That’s him, Judge.”

  “Did you kill those two kids in Elza?” Buckner asked, looking down at Crawford.

  Crawford looked at the judge and then at Cherokee and then looked back at the judge and nodded.

  Crawford then looked at Jesse with venom in his eyes, “That kid and his friend murdered my brother.”

  As the words came out of Crawford’s mouth, Jesse looked up at the courthouse steps and saw Gemma staring at him.

  Dave Roberson of The Jacksonville Statesman had not wanted to make the drive down to Rusk. For the past hour they had been getting wire reports about an attack on the United States Naval Base at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. Still, the Elza killings were his story, and he had gotten a tip that there might be an attempt to lynch the kid who did it. So duty called, and he made the drive south.

  He was shocked when he pulled into town and found all the streets blocked. He found a place to park and got to the square just in time to see the line of pickups barreling over sidewalks and lawns to get to the courthouse.

  He stayed back next to Dixon’s Drug Store and watched with his notepad in hand. While he stood there, Cherokee County Attorney, the Honorable Nathaniel Cockwright, Esq. walked up beside him and stood watching in amazement while a man confessed to the Elza murders.

  In the next few minutes the crowd began to disperse.

  Roberson then looked at Cockwright, who had not yet noticed him, and said, “Well, Nate, it looks like your case just blew right out the window, along with your dream of running for Governor.”

  Cockwright looked at Roberson and asked, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, that a man just confessed. The kid didn’t do it, just like everybody’s been telling you. It’s a shame, too, with the news from Hawaii and all.”

  Cockwright just stared at him.

  “What news from Hawaii?”

  “The Japs attacked this morning. We’ll be at war by nightfall. Otherwise this world-class blunder of your would have been my lead story tomorrow. It would have been a dandy, too. I’d write all about how a C.A. nearly got a kid lynched because he wanted to run for office.”

  Cockwright stomach tightened, but before he got to respond, Roberson continued, “But be assured if you ever run for office again, you can bet that what happened here today will be my cover story.”

  The crowd had spread by the time Cherokee got to Jesse.

  “You, okay, kid?”

  Jesse nodded, but he was clearly in some pain. His eyes were blackened and swollen and he was holding his side.

  Chief Hightower took Richard by the arm and led him up the courthouse steps.

  Buckner looked at Jesse and said, “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up. You may need to see a doctor.”

  As Buckner led Jesse toward the courthouse, McKinney tucked his pistol back into its holster and looked at Cherokee.

  “Cherokee, you sure know how to spoil a lynchin’.”

  The old man smiled as McKinney helped him up the steps. Ahead, Jefferson had Richard by the arm as he led him past Gemma to the courthouse door.

  Richard stopped next to his niece. “He did it, Gemma. He murdered your daddy.”

  Gemma watched as Hightower shoved Crawford through the door. After they had passed, Jesse stepped up to her. The two looked into each other’s eyes.

  Buckner stopped and looked at Jesse. “You two take a few minutes.” He said as he went inside.

  McKinney and Cherokee both nodded in respect to the girl but walked on by without speaking. They knew the kids needed a moment.

  “You knew,” she said when they were alone. “You knew what happened to my father?”

  Jesse just stared at her, searching for words.

  “Is it true? Did you kill him?” she asked with tears in her eyes.

  Jesse tried to answer, but there was nothing to say. He just nodded.

  Tears began running down her cheeks. “All this time. You knew. Way back when mom and me and Jettie would cry for hours wondering why daddy had been out on those tracks, you knew? You were there? You told me that he drove you home that night. All this time you’ve been lying to me. Why?”

  “We were kids and your dad…” Jesse paused. He couldn’t tell her the truth.

  “That’s it?” She said, near sobbing. “That’s all you can say? What happened that night?”

  Jesse’s mind was racing, but he had nothing to say. If he told her what had happened, he’d have to tell her about the lynching in Jacksonville and all about Sarah Stoker and about what kind of man her father was.

  “Gem, I can’t,” is all he could think to say.

  “Would you have married me knowing this secret?”

  Jesse just looked at her with tears in his eyes.

  Gemma looked at him as her broken heart suddenly cooled with bitter hatred. She slapped him as hard as she could on the face and ran down the steps and off to her car.

  Thirty minutes later Jesse was sitting in Judge Buckner’s office. The judge was in his normal spot behind his big desk. Next to Jesse sat Cherokee-One-Leg. Behind him sat Brewster McKinney and Chief Hightower. To the left sat an annoyed County Attorney Nathaniel Elbridge Cockwright.

  “Well, Jesse, it looks like the State of Texas owes you an apology,” Judge Buckner began.

  “Your honor,” Cockwright protested.

  “Nathaniel, shut up,” Buckner said, cutting the attorney off. “Your antics almost got this poor kid killed. I realize that this is irregular, but Jesse did nothing wrong. This should never have gone t
o trial.”

  “Judge you know that man’s confession won’t hold up; he’ll be screaming duress.”

  “No, he won’t,” Cherokee interrupted.

  Buckner’s face showed respect as he looked at the old man. “You seem quite confident, Mr. Bradford.”

  “He don’t want to be free,” Cherokee said, simply knowing, as did Crawford, what would happen the moment he was out of jail.

  “What about the killing of that Crawford man’s brother? That should be investigated.”

  “And it will,” the judge replied. “Jesse what happened that night?”

  Jesse looked at Cherokee, who nodded, and then back to the judge and answered, “He took me out to the tracks. I guess he was going to kill me. He dragged me out of his car by my hair. When Cherokee got there Crawford shot at him and hit him in the wood leg. He was about to shoot again and I found a stick and started hitting him on the head.”

  “So let me get this straight. He had already shot at your friend, and you feared that he might kill you as well, is that correct?”

  “Yes sir, your honor.”

  “Well that settles that.”

  “Wait a minute, your honor,” Cockwright argued loudly.

  “No, you wait a minute, Cockwright,” the judge said angrily. “How did that Houston paper get that story and those crime scene pictures?”

  Cockwright stiffened. He had prepared himself. The judge was bound to ask. “I don’t know. The paper said something about a source close to the trial. I suspect it was someone in Elza.”

  “Jefferson,” the judge asked directing his attention to Chief Hightower, “did you give those pictures to that paper?”

  “It wasn’t me, Buck. I mean, your Honor,” Jefferson said, earning a grin from McKinney.

  “Mr. McKinney,” Buckner asked, “would you mind, in your capacity as a Texas Ranger, going down to Houston to conduct an investigation on behalf of this court to find out exactly how that newspaper got their hands on sensitive evidence in a murder trial?”

  Cockwright turned white.

  “Your Honor, The Texas Rangers would be more than happy to handle that investigation for the court.”

  “Your honor,” Cockwright began. “I hardly think that’s necessary.”

  “I didn’t think you would,” Buckner began. “Nathanial, I suggest that you go to your office and type up a resignation letter; that is unless you want to find yourself sitting in a cell downstairs next to Mr. Crawford. And don’t even entertain the notion of running for office again. If you run for trash collector in the state of Texas you can count on me being squarely and loudly behind your opponent. Is that understood?”

  Cockwright nodded as he looked at the judge, feeling the eyes of every person in the room on him.

  “Now get out of my office,” Buckner ordered.

  Nathanial Cockwright stood and left the room without saying a word or making eye contact with anyone.

  Once the former C. A. was gone, Buckner turned his attention to Jesse.

  “Gentlemen, we have a problem,” Buckner began. “With the radio and newspaper reports of the last couple of weeks combined with that mess in this morning’s Houston paper, I’m afraid Jesse isn’t going to be safe. He might be okay in Elza, but anywhere else the name ‘Jesse Rose’ is the same as ‘Alligator Killer,’ and with what’s happening in Hawaii, I doubt that a single paper will report that we got the real killer.”

  “What happened in Hawaii?” Jefferson asked innocently.

  Buckner looked at the faces around the room. Clearly none of them had heard the reports.

  “It was on the radio when I left the house. The Japanese attacked our navy base at Pearl Harbor.”

  “Does this mean we’re going to war?” Jefferson asked.

  “Probably so.”

  The room grew silent as everyone considered the ramifications. Finally Jesse spoke up, “I’m not going back to Elza. I’m gonna join the army.”

  “Jesse,” the chief began, “think about this.”

  “I was going to before all this began. Now it makes more sense than ever.”

  “You were going to college so you could be an officer. This will be a lot different.” Cherokee argued.

  “I doubt that I can go to college now. Besides, you weren’t an officer. You did okay.”

  “You probably need to discuss this with your parents, son,” Judge Buckner commented.

  “Did you see my parents in court, Judge? They aren’t parents. They’re two people who had a kid together. Cliff’s mom and dad were my parents. I’ll catch a train and join the army up north somewhere. Maybe my name won’t be an issue up there.”

  “Those stories went nationwide, but you’re right, you are probably better off joinin’ up outside of Texas,” Buckner said and then stood and added as he reached to shake Jesse’s hand, “Good luck, son.”

  #

  When Jesse, Cherokee, the Chief, and Corporal McKinney walked out of the courthouse, Rusk was a quiet, empty little town. The only vehicle near the square was the big pulpwood truck that Cherokee had ridden to town in.

  When they reached the bottom of the steps, Chief Hightower started to shake Jesse’s hand and then wrapped him in a bear hug. When he let Jesse go he said, “I wish I could have done more for you, Jesse. Are you sure you can’t fix things with Gemma?”

  “She can’t marry me now. Actually, she couldn’t before, she just didn’t know it.”

  McKinney put out his hand, “You’re going to be okay, Jesse. You’ll make a good soldier. When the war’s over, if you find yourself interested in becoming a Ranger, you come look me up.”

  “Thank you, Corporal McKinney,” Jesse said as he shook the man’s hand. “I might do that.”

  McKinney just nodded, and he and the chief walked back to the prowler.

  Epilogue

  STONEY’S DINER

  JACKSONVILLE, TEXAS

  5:30 p.m., June 14, 2014

  Jeana had tears in her eyes as she listened to her grandmother tell her story. They had finished lunch over an hour before, and the waitress had just poured a third cup of coffee for the two of them.

  “When I finished high school I went to secretary school up in Dallas. After I graduated from there, I worked at that same Chevrolet Dealership here in Jacksonville that Jewel worked at. I was working there when I met your grandfather.

  “I was sitting at this booth with a girlfriend from work having lunch one day when I looked down at a paper and saw Jesse’s name. He was listed among the Cherokee County boys who were killed at Normandy. We would always look to see if someone we knew had been killed or captured.” Gemma paused and swallowed hard, trying not to cry again, “I didn’t go back to work that afternoon. I went home and cried and cried. And then I was over it. At least that’s what I thought.

  “A few years after marrying your grandfather, I was at home ironing his work shirts when there was a knock on the door. We had moved up to Dallas only a few months before. It was the day your mother started first grade. I remember because I was in the house alone for the first time in years.

  “I was shocked when I answered the door and saw Shakes Blankenship. He looked completely different, wearing a clean pressed suit but he had the same kind smile he’d had when I first met him at the county jail. He had his wife, Judy, with him.

  “I knew the moment I saw him that the visit had something to do with Jesse. After so many years, I had gotten to the point that I didn’t think about him much.

  “He said that people had started to call him ‘Brother Shakes.’ He worked part time with Brother Bill at the church in Elza. They showed me pictures of their children, and I showed them pictures of your mother.

  “He said that he liked to go by the name ‘Shakes’ because it reminded him of who he once was.

  “I’m not sure why h
e felt like he needed to come and tell me the story. He may have needed to just get it off his chest, but I think he really felt like it was a way of doing something for Jesse. Most likely he felt that I needed to know the truth. He was right, of course. I needed it. I broke down and cried like a baby all that afternoon. I’d held all of my tears and anger inside for years, not knowing but always wondering what had really happened and why. It felt like the two of them had lifted an enormous load off my shoulders.

  “He said that he had slipped out of town with the crowd after the almost-lynching. Given what had happened, no one was going to miss an old hobo. Not long after that started working again as an accountant and eventually he went to seminary to learn to be a preacher. While there he met Judy and they got married. They moved back to Elza, and he worked part-time as an accountant and part-time at the church.

  “He told me that he spent a lot of time with old Cherokee before he died and even more time with Chief Hightower.

  “It hurt when he told me all the things my father had done. It hurt even more to think that Daddy tried to kill Jesse and Cherokee and that Uncle Ricky was the one who murdered Cliff and Jewel.

  “That was the last time I saw Shakes, but for the next fifty years he and Judy were my two best friends, next to your grandfather. I wrote to them almost every week. People did that in those days. Whenever we had problems of some sort, I’d write a letter to Shakes spilling out all of my sorrow, and a day or two later I’d get a reply. He always knew just the right thing to say. In a way he became the father I’d never really had.

  “He eventually started a ministry to help the homeless. He traveled all over the country helping to feed people. He helped start organizations everywhere. I used to get postcards from places like India and Mozambique. You saw what it was like today. I doubt that you could count the number of lives he and Judy touched over the years.

  “The funeral? That was Shakes? That lady was his daughter?” Jeana asked.

  Gemma smiled and nodded. “He went from being a hobo to one of the greatest men I’ve ever known, all because of three little kids and some stolen watermelons.

  “Some years ago I finally got my courage up and went down to the library and did some research. Sure enough, my father and Uncle Ricky had gone to prison for assaulting a Texas Ranger. The more I thought about it, the more it all made sense. My mother and daddy fought all the time in those days, and he was always out until late at night. He didn’t have a job, but Daddy always had money.