ReadWest

by Elmer Kelton

  TODD

  Why, if this keeps up, it'll lead to bloodshed back and forth till the last man in this county's dead.

  THATCHER

  That's what I know! That's why I'm

  going to see Colonel Oldham. If anybody can put the skids to this, he can.

  TODD

  Aw, Afton, I hate to tell you, but

  I just come from talking to him

  myself. He says he'll stand up to

  the fire-eaters. But he's a sick man. Looks to me like they just

  Used him and shoved him aside.

  THATCHER

  Shove Colonel Oldham aside! Pshaw,

  Todd, you don't know him like I do.

  Still I'm right glad you wsnt to see him. I'll go'n add my words to yore'n... And I'd best be on my way too.

  TODD

  Yaow, I reckon so. Be seeing you, Afton.

  Slumped as if almost too weary to move, Todd watches Thatcher ride away.

  EXT. ELM FORK OF TRINITY RIVER, WEST LIMIT OF MILCOURT - DAY

  Todd on Comanche crosses the stream--shallow, clear and rippling--and climbs the gentle rise of Main Street leading E. toward the square.

  EXT. SQUARE/NEARBY STREETS

  The square is as crowded as yesterday. Todd in the saddle looks longingly at the window where he spoke with Pap. Seeing nothing, he enters another street, giving the square a wide berth. He comes out on Main Street again farther E. He passes a feed store.

  A wagon stands before the store, a BONNETED WOMAN in the spring seat. A BOY about 12 crouches behind her. Suddenly a

  SECOND BOY sprints across in front of Todd and leaps up into the wagon beside the first boy. Todd stops and listens.

  SECOND BOY

  You just orta seen it, Jake! They

  stood Mr Henry Childs on the wagon

  tailgate. Then Mr Alec Boutwell

  fixes up a noose around his neck.

  They have this nigger driving the

  wagon, see. When they give the signal, he pops them mules with his whip and they jerk that wagon right out from under Mr Henry Childs, and

  there he swings akicking. Then they done the same thing to his brother. C'mon, lemme show you the place!

  The boys jump down and race away, ignoring the woman's calls for them to come back. Todd sits numb with terror and grief. He is brought to himself by a FARMER coming out of the store and climbing into the seat beside the woman. He glances in Todd's direction.

  FARMER

  (coolly)

  Howdy, Todd.

  Todd knows him well, looks surprised at his coolness. Todd only nods in return, flicks the reins and rides on.

  EXT. BANK OF PECAN CREEK - DAY

  The GIANT ELM looms before Todd. He halts a distance away and stares, petrified. A shifting circle of CURIOUS ONLOOKERS surround the tree. We notice with Todd that a rope has cut through the bark to bare wood on the limb where the men dangled. Todd shudders and groans.

  Then he glances away to see a dust devil rising in a dry cornfield across Pecan Creek beyond the tree. Bits of corn stalk swirl toward the tree. Todd sends Comanche splashing

  across the stream and runs for a little way. He stops and looks back. The dust devil has dissipated before reaching the tree.

  EXT. COUNTRY OUTSIDE MILCOURT

  Todd is riding slowly home. The afternoon has darkened, not yet from dusk but from thickening clouds. At the SOUND OF HOOF BEATS, O.S. frombehind, Todd halts and whirls Comanche to face it. A man riding hard sweeps past with no greeting but a wave. Recognizing him, Todd hails him.

  TODD

  Flem! Hey! What's up?

  FLEM NUGENT stops, turns and rides back. He is in his thirties, red-headed, pale and short. He is round-eyed with excitement. He talks as he comes toward Todd.

  NUGENT

  It's horrible, Todd. Worse'n horrible. Monk Harper, Henry Fields, Wes Morris and Ed Hampton... Four of 'em, Todd.

  All tried and sentenced to hang tomorrow! I'm going out to tell Ed's wife. Oh Lord, and her with two little younguns!

  TODD

  Why Flem! That trial couldn't'a lasted no time!

  NUGENT

  Time enough for that jury, I reckon. And if it's four in a batch now, no telling when they'll commence scooping 'em up by the dozen.

  TODD

  Natural-born sonsabitches ride high for a while, but their turn comes around too.

  NUGENT

  Oh, you watch out how you talk, Todd. Harley Dexter and his pack of blackguards are afrothing at the mouth. And Ticknor, he's hard as ary rock. He won't stop at

  nothing to make the Confederacy stick.

  TODD

  Confederacy! What in the hell does such crap amount to only a passel of cock-eyed fools out to destroy the country. Waving that Stars-and-Farts flag of theirs! Why damn it all! they're the ones ought'a be facing a court of law. A real one!

  NUGENT

  Go easy now, Todd. Be mighty careful where you say things like that.... But looky here, I gotta hit the road. Ed's place is a fur piece off.

  Nugent raises his hand for good-bye and lopes away. Todd stares after him. Then in barely contained outrage, he rides toward home. The western sky is reddening to flame near the horizon. The few clouds of the afternoon have swollen bold and black into thunderheads. Around their edges the low-sinking sun draws a rim of fire.

  INT. BLAIR CABIN - NIGHT

  The hour is late. The children are in bed. Ma, Todd and Sis sit before the fireplace, in which the fire has sunk to fading coals, the weather being warm even for a Texas fall. A candle stands on the mantelpiece, another on the dining table behind them. Faces and forms appear in unsteady flickering

  MA

  So Colonel Oldham promises, does he? While the other big bugs team up and hang their neighbors.

  TODD

  With the help of a jackass or two

  throwed in to fool people.

  MA

  The Reverend Harry Tillman, for one. Just imagine! A preacher sending innocent men to the noose. And just keep in mind that he's taken dinner in this house a many a Sunday.

  A hopeless silence settles over them. Ma stands up and trudges to the fireplace, pushes the beanpot on its swinging arm back against the chimney wall, picks up a poker and rakes ashes over the coals to keep them live till morning.

  Todd and Sis watch each of her moves as if it is terribly significant. Walking back to her chair again, Ma suddenly collapses in it, covers her head with her apron and breaks

  into rending sobs. Sis leaps to her feet, runs to kneel and bury her head in Ma's lap, wailing and moaning "Ma, Ma."

  Todd stands up, wild-eyed, lurches toward them, then wheels and heads for the door. He snatches his father's rifle from its deerhorn rack over the doorway, hurls back the door and slams it behind him and rushes out into the night.

  EXT. CORRAL

  Seen from behind, Todd walks unsteadily toward the corral. The moon has not quite reached the zenith. An erratic play of lightning is seen in a heavy cloud bank along the western horizon. He stops at the corral, the rifle gripped in both hands by the barrel and the stock. He rests his forearms on the top rail, the rifle held horizontal before him. Head

  lifted, he studies the looming clouds. Comes a flash of

  lightning and a far-off rumble of thunder. He lifts the rifle high, still gripped as before, like an offering to the storm.

  TODD

  You hang Pap and I'll kill ever

  last one of you, no matter if it

  takes the rest of my days!

  He gives a violent start, turns his head, then in a quivering but softened voice.

  TODD

  Oh! It's you, Comanche.

  Comanche has walked up, nuzzles Todd's elbow. Todd shifts the rifle to one hand and with the other strokes Comanche between the ears, eyes still fixed on the approaching storm.

  INT. CABIN

  Front door seen from inside opens quietly and Todd comes in. He methodically places the rifle on its rac
k. Pap's fiddle is seen hanging on the wall near the rifle. Todd studies the fiddle for a moment. Ma is still in the same chair. Sis is seated on a low stool drawn close to Ma's knees. The women watch anxiously as Todd walks over and takes a chair next to them. The mantelpiece candle is seen, burning but consumed to a stub.

  MA

  Why'd you take the rifle outside,

  Todd?

  TODD

  Ma! I've got to do something.

  MA

  Yes, but not gunplay. If you start that, Pap'll be a goner for sure.

  SIS

  And maybe you with him. How could you even dream of winning a shootout against ser'val hundred men?

  Todd bows his head and covers his face with his hands.

  TODD

  I'm not aiming to do it now...Not yet...Not right away.

  MA

  Put it out'a your mind for good!

  Rolling thunder close at hand makes all three of them jump. Todd's eyes rest on the mantelpiece candle then abruptly turn to Ma and Sis.

  TODD

  Listen, y'all! I ain't got a particle of faith Colonel Oldham's gonna help us.

  MA

  Me neither.

  The sense of another dead end sits heavily on them all.

  MA (CONT'D)

  (continuing after a

  brief pause)

  Y'all may think I'm crazy. I hate to even bring it up. But do you suppose it'd do any good to talk to Brother Tillman?

  TODD

  What for? He's just a piddling preacher doing what they tell him to. Why Ma, three of the county commissioners're on that fake jury.

  And the county judge is what you

  might call the prosecuting attorney!

  Ma and Sis sit speechless. The candle flame is now so low it begins to gutter. Sis goes over and replaces the candle with a fresh one, lighting it from the old stub, which she blows out and throws in a box by the fireplace.

  TODD (CONT'D)

  Still in all, we have to grab at any straw, don't we?

  MA

  You know we do.

  SIS

  Oh God! To think we're down to begging Preacher Tillman. Tillman!

  TODD

  (hesitantly)

  One more thing I ought'a tell y'all. That old elem tree on Pecan Creek's where they're hanging 'em.

  Ma and Sis stare at him dumbfounded. Ma clenches her hands together in her lap and bows her head. The landmark tree as a death tree stirs them deeply. Suddenly comes a whipcrack of lightning followed instantly by thunder. The first heavy drops of rain are heard striking the roof.

  TODD (CONT'D)

  So I better hunt up Tillman as soon as daylight comes... If this storm ever lets up.

  Silence again. The rain becomes a steady downpour, punctuated by thunder.

  TODD (CONT'D)

  I wish we had that cotton in. This rain'll beat it right out of the bolls.

  MA

  (shaking her head)

  I don't see how we can get it picked while this trouble lasts?

  (continuing after

  a rumble of thunder)

  I doubt this weather'll let a body

  sleep. But we better get to bed anyhow. Mornin'll be here before you know it.

  TODD

  (abruptly)

  I have to carry a gun! I have to! Them rebels act like they'd just as soon shoot me as look at me. I won't take the rifle though. Pap's musket's better for close range anyhow. The six-shooter too. I'll hide it in my saddlebag.

  He rises decisively and heads for the shed room where he sleeps. Sis looks at Ma for guidance, but Ma can only shake her head in fear and sorrow.

  EXT. BLAIR HOMESTEAD - NIGHT

  HIGH ANGLE SHOT. The thunderstorm is unleashed in all its fury. In utter darkness at one moment, in the next the entire farmstead is lighted by a dazzle of lightning. Heavy sheets of wind-borne rain drift by, while thunder rolls. We watch during two or three of these punishing lightning bolt attacks, which seem to try this human habitation for how much it can bear before being swept into oblivion.

  EXT. TILLMAN'S HOUSE, FRONT GATE - DAY

  A BUNGALOW with a front porch, unpainted and weathered, surrounded by a wooden-slat fence, also unpainted. A gusty, chilly wind--the norther brought by last night's storm--is plucking shriveled leaves from a pecan tree in the front yard. Todd sits on Comanche a few yards from the house, watchful, hesitant to approach. His musket hangs by a sling from the saddle horn.

  PREACHER HARRY TILLMAN comes out onto the porch and down the steps, sees Todd and stops. A strong puff of wind catches at Tillman's derby hat. He clutches the brim with both hands. As Todd rides up and dismounts, Tillman hurries forward and stands inside the gate, Todd just outside.

  TILLMAN

  I know you think hard of me, Todd. But I'm in that jury-room to save lives, not take them.

  TODD

  You ain't saved none yet as I know of.

  TILLMAN

  No, but I've argued myself blue in the face for every man tried. And I'll keep on doing that.

  TODD

  Being as the seven slavery men hold the majority, what does it matter if you holler your head off.

  While Todd looks on, curious, Tillman fumbles in his pants pockets, comes up in a moment with a pearl-handled penknife, which he opens with a flourish and begins scraping under a thumbnail, which is already clean enough.

  TODD (CONT'D)

  They're just using you to make this look good, same as they done with Colonel Oldham.

  TILLMAN

  (snapping shut and pocketing the knife)

  I've threatened to resign over this majority rule business. But Reese

  Culler begged me to stay on.

  Said without this jury to kind'a hold 'em back, the mob'll take over and hang every man in custody.

  TODD

  But dammit! What's the jury after only that?

  TILLMAN

  The jury'll see reason sooner'n the mob will. I just have to keep harping on how terrible unjust all this is.

  TODD

  Surely to God you can do more'n just set around and mutter till these maniacs get enough of killing and kindly let you beg 'em to quit!

  Tillman resets his hat on his head, as if to level the brim.

  TODD (CONT'D)

  No wonder they call preachers mealy-mouthed!

  Todd turns to mount. Struck to the quick, Tillman opens the gate, comes through and walks forward holding out an entreating hand.

  TILLMAN

  Wait! Don't go yet! I... Please!

  Todd takes his foot out of the stirrup and turns to face Tillman, who clutches the brim of his derby again, as though a gust of wind has caught at it--which none did.

  TILLMAN (CONT'D)

  There's...something I've pondered and prayed over. I think...I think the time's come to say to the jury again: either change the rules or I resign. And stick to it this time. If Reese Culler'll do the same, we can manage it. They might let just one man walk out. Two I'm pretty sure they won't. That might break up the jury. Drive the mob to lynching wholesale. Ticknor counts

  on avoiding that. He wants these trials to be...legal-like.

  Todd is calmer now, seeing a possibility.

  TODD

  Something you need to know. I talked to Colonel Oldham yesterday. He's mighty upset over this majority rule dodge too. He's supposed to come to town today and call on the committee to change it.

  TILLMAN

  He is!

  TODD

  You could tell the jury that to start the ball rolling. But...

  TILLMAN

  But what?

  TODD

  Colonel Oldham's a sick man. And I ain't sure how willing he is. Or if even he can persuade that pack of mad dogs.

  Tillman stands thoughtful, frustrated to have had a hope held out then taken away.

  TODD (CONT'D)

  You think you can get 'em to go unanimous?

  TILLMAN

  I'll argue f
or that, but I won't get it. Two-thirds against a simple

  majority's the best I can hope for.

  TODD

  Which at least would break the slavery men's stranglehold on the voting.

  TILLMAN

  I'm banking they'll go that far. But if Reese Culler fails me, and I walk out of there alone with nothing changed...

  TODD

  Then you're in danger from the mob yourself.

  TILLMAN

  That's right. Some of 'em have me down for a secret Union man as it is. Every word I say in favor of a prisoner, suspicion grows. If I lose the protection of being on

  the jury... Well, there's many a dark holler full of tall trees.

  TODD

  I apologize for calling you mealy-mouthed, sir. You're taking a big risk, and I thank you for it.

  Tillman pulls out his watch, pushes a little button to open the case cover, holds the watch at arm's length and squints.

  TILLMAN

  The jury'll be convening right about now.

  Snapping the case shut, he slips the watch into his vest pocket, looks emphatically at Todd.

  TILLMAN (CONT'D)

  I'll do my level best, Todd.

  TODD

  I truly believe you will, parson.

  Tillman has already turned and is hurrying away.

  EXT. MILCOURT STREET - DAY

  Todd rides along a street toward the square. Shortly he pulls up, hearing the sounds of a wagon moving. Then he sees it, accompanied by a throng of people on foot and one mounted man: Colonel Ticknor. The first victim today being taken to the tree is knelt in the wagon bed, too far away for Todd to identify. Repelled and furious, Todd turns his back on the sight.