by R. P. Wolff
The men held Leon face down on the ground.
Lucky took the lit cigarette from his mouth and pressed it firmly on Leon’s neck.
“Aaah!” Leon screamed.
Lucky repeated his actions on Leon’s bare arm.
“Aaaaahh!” Leon screamed again.
“Now, don’t go try running away again, boy,” Lucky ordered. “It’s only going to make it worse.”
The two men did not let Leon get on his feet. Instead, they dragged him over to the pre-arranged noose. The noose hung over a long thick branch about six feet from the trunk with the other end tied around the trunk. John Favors tried to put Leon’s head in the noose, but Leon fought it.
Lucky took another drag out of his cigarette and pressed it right below Leon’s eye.
Leon screamed again.
John Favors was finally able to get the noose around his neck. Tom Jenkins untied the other end of the rope around the trunk and started pulling on it. John Favors joined Tom to help him yank Leon to his death. They put the torch into a makeshift hole in the tree, and it lit up the area near the tree.
Leon miraculously was able to get to his feet, but the rope was still around his neck. They pulled the rope until he was on his tippy toes, and then they stopped. Lucky remained a few feet back pointing the shotgun at Leon.
Leon could not control his insides and he simultaneously urinated and released his bowels.
The men noticed the pee and started laughing. “Look at Leon,” said Tom Jenkins. “He’s pissed in his pants. Not so tough are you now, boy.”
Leon stared straight ahead in a daze. His life was soon to be over. He was going to spend his last moments saying goodbye to his love ones.
“I love you mama. I love you papa. I love you Joyce—” Leon stopped because he saw a hooded person come from the woods with a shotgun.
Lucky heard him too and turned around.
“Bang!” The person shot Lucky before Lucky turned completely around. Lucky dropped to the ground.
The person immediately pumped the shotgun and shot at Tom and John. “Bang!” Tom Jenkins then dropped to the ground.
John Favors yelled, “Who da fuck are you?” Favors started running.
The person quickly pumped the shotgun again and shot Favors as Favors was running away. Favors fell to the ground and screamed in pain. The person hiked over to where Favors was lying and pump the shotgun again.
“Please, mister, don’t shoot me,” Favors begged. “Who are you?”
The person answered by shooting Favors to his death. The person walked over to the other two victims and shot them both, again.
Leon witnessed this whole scene while the noose was around his neck, and Leon hung on for dear life. When the men were shot, they released the rope, which released the tension, but Leon struggled to keep his balance. Leon didn’t know what to think about the situation. He was prepared to die and now this person shot his enemies. Was he going to let him go? He would soon find out because he couldn’t run away.
The mysterious person was unidentifiable. He or she was fully covered. The person wore overalls with suspenders, boots, long sleeve shirt, gloves, and a hooded mask. The person was of average height and thin.
The person calmly searched and picked up all the shotgun cartridges. The person briefly looked at Lucky and then over at Tom Jenkins. He unclipped Jenkins’s keys from his belt loop and grabbed the keys.
Leon was speechless. He didn’t know what to say. A part of him thought he might survive this nightmare, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up.
The person silently approached Leon and removed the noose from his head. The person went behind Leon and placed Jenkins’s keys into Leon’s bound hands, they were behind his back. Leon could not see the color of the person’s eyes. He also couldn’t tell whether the person was white or black because of the dimly lit area.
The person turned around, turned on a small flashlight, and sprinted into the wood towards the way that Lucky and his crew had entered.
Leon stood there in shock.
Chapter 2
Earlier in the Evening
Mama Brooks, a skinny black lady, was in a panic. Her son, Leon was missing. He lived at home and would hardly ever miss dinner at the usual time of six o’clock. He was now about three hours late. Mama Brooks feared that something was wrong.
She, her husband, James, and the rest of the family went searching for Leon. They canvassed the neighborhood asking neighbors if they saw Leon. The neighborhood was on alert and concerned, as they all liked Leon. James called around to people who worked with Leon. Leon’s parents had just purchased their first telephone about six months previous. They were one of the last ones to get a phone.
Finally, James got a hold of Fletcher, Leon’s work buddy. “Fletcher, did you see Leon today?” asked James. “He’s missing.”
“Oh no,” replied Fletcher. “Yes, I did see him at the new general store’s construction site.”
“What happened?”
“Well, towards the end of the day, I saw him carrying a door outside with one of the foremen. Then, I never saw him again. He never came out.”
“Oh, shit,” said James. “This doesn’t sound good. So he didn’t get on the bus with you?”
“No. Damn, I should have waited for him. I should have known something was up. I’m so sorry, Mr. Brooks.”
James sighed. “It’s not your fault, Fletch.” James paused. “They better not hurt my boy.”
Both men knew what had probably occurred. The crackers had taken Leon and were going to harm him. It was a close-knit neighborhood, and all black people stuck together. They all knew to leave the white areas after dark. Negroes didn’t just come up missing and then show up unharmed. If they were missing, it could only mean one thing.
This thought tormented James Brooks. “Fletch, if you see or hear anything, please call me immediately.”
“Of course, I will. I’m going to search the neighborhood.”
“Thank you. Thanks so much, Fletch.”
Mama Brooks stomped into the room and cried, “They must have our boy. They must have him. Oh no, we’ve got to get him.”
James hugged her and cried. “I know. What can we do?”
“I don’t know,” whimpered Mama Brooks.
“I know it’s not going to help, but we should call the police,” suggested James.
“Yeah, like they’re going to do anything.”
“I know, but that’s all I can think of. We’ll let them know, but we’ll keep our search up.”
“Okay, go ahead and call them.”
James dialed the police station.
“Dodge Police,” said Luke Henderson.
“Hello mister. This is James Brooks on Pollard Avenue. My son, Leon is missing.”
“So,” said Officer Henderson. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“I was hoping that maybe you could try to find him. He was working at the new general store’s construction site, and no one has seen him since.”
“Are you kidding? I don’t have time to drive around town looking for your son. It’s not even ten o’clock. He’s probably drunk somewhere.”
James was furious at the policeman’s insult, but James refrained from speaking his mind. “Please, I’m begging you. Leon is never late for dinner. There is something wrong, and he doesn’t even drink.”
“Okay, okay, boy. We’ll send a squad car around to see if we find your boy. What’s your phone number?”
James was somewhat pleased. He gave the officer his contact information. The call ended.
Luke Henderson hung up the phone, rested his feet on the desk, and continued to read the paper.
He did not call anyone to search for Leon.
~~~~
Leon regained his composure and had to think, which was painful because his head throbbed and his sides ached. The mysterious person was gone. Leon was by himself with three dead bodies–white dead bodies. His hands and feet were still bou
nd. He breathed heavily and couldn’t believe what occurred. The mysterious person had saved his life, but Leon had to get out of there.
He realized that the keys the mysterious person handed to him must have the key to unlock the cuffs. He couldn’t see them because his hands were bound behind his back, but he could feel the keys. He was careful not to drop the keys. He was eventually able to unlock himself from the handcuffs and then he quickly undid the leg cuffs. He rubbed his wrists and ankles as both hurt because the cuffs were on so tightly.
It was great that he freed himself from the cuffs, but now he had to assess the situation. He had no idea what time it was or where he was at. His pants were soaked with pee and packed with feces. Plus, he was very thirsty and craved water desperately.
He carefully walked over to Lucky and looked at Lucky’s watch. It was five minutes before eleven. He slowly walked over to the car. It was uncomfortable to walk with crap inside his pants. He looked inside the car and grabbed a canteen. He opened it and couldn’t smell anything, so he figured it was water. He immediately chugged about half of it down. There was another one, so he grabbed that one too. He also took a small towel, which he would use to clean himself, and a flashlight.
He needed to clean himself because he could not walk or run with his pants soiled with feces. Using the flashlight to guide him, he walked about thirty yards away to a somewhat small cleared area. He took off his shoes and gently took off his pants. The feces accumulated in his underwear. He slowly took off his underwear and emptied the feces into the ground. He wiped himself with the small towel. He wrapped the underwear inside the towel. He would discard these items later. He didn’t want to leave any evidence that he was at the site.
He hiked back to the dead men. He anxiously wanted to get out of there, but he paused, surveyed the scene, and pondered about what to do. Three dead white men were shot to death. This originally was probably an ordered hit on Leon, and the Klan knew he was supposed to be hung. For some miraculous reason, someone came to Leon’s defense, killed all of the white men, and let Leon free.
This meant that the Klan would still be coming after Leon because they would probably suspect that Leon killed the men. Or they would suspect that some other Negro killed the men. This was going to blow up into a real mess.
Leon thought about his options. He could take their car and drive far away to some other town. This way, he would probably be the only target, and his neighborhood might be safe from retaliation. Or he could use the car, drive home, and ditch the car somewhere. Or he could just hike his way home and ask his parents what he should do.
None of these options were good. Stealing the car provided easy transportation, but the Klan or the police would certainly catch him. The police would be looking for the car, and they would eventually catch him. No, he needed to leave the car at the scene. This was cleaner—less evidence that could be traced to him.
He only had one other option: hike to his parent’s house, but he had no idea where he was. He was pretty sure that he was still in Dodge County because Lucky and his crew would not commit a crime outside their safe haven of Dodge County. He figured he wasn’t that far away from the road because he remembered they only drove a short way when they turned into the woods. Once he got to the road, he figured he could determine his location. He knew he had to be on the north side of Dodge County, which was the white side. There was no way that Lucky would be doing this on the south side where the Negroes resided.
So he had his plan. He would head back to the road from where they came, which would be the opposite direction of where the car was currently facing. Then, he would jog back to his house and hoped that no crackers would spot him.
But first, he wanted to say goodbye to his friends. He hovered over Lucky’s dead body and spoke aloud.
“Hello, motherfucker. Now, Lucky what you doing on the ground, boy? You know, you shouldn’t be hanging out on the ground, boy.”
Leon kicked him in the side, but it actually hurt Leon more because his sides ached from being kicked himself. Nevertheless, he kept kicking Lucky hard in different places. Leon couldn’t control himself. Twenty-three years of the white man’s torture. For twenty-three years, he fantasized of killing them and torturing them. He couldn’t get enough of kicking poor little Lucky.
“You motherfucker! How does it feel now, motherfucker?”
He darted over to the other men and kicked them as well until he was out of breath. He started crying. “You motherfuckers. I hate you. Why do you got to be so mean?”
Leon sighed. He was disappointed that there was no joy in beating them because they were already dead. They felt no pain. They showed no fear. He wanted to see a cracker show fear.
~~~~
Leon made it to the road, which was only about a half of a mile away. He couldn’t tell what road it was because there weren’t any signs. Dodge County, located in upper east Texas, encompassed about one thousand square miles and was almost shaped like a perfect square. Although Dodge County had many square miles within its boundaries, most of the area was woods. In fact, the woods surrounded the entire county and served as a convenient border. There were three main roads that led into Dodge County. Each of these roads ran next to the woods. Route 12 was on the west side, FM 3041 was on the North side, and Highway 191 started in the Upper East Side and ran diagonally to the South Central area, but the town never built a road for the south border of the woods.
The population of Dodge County was almost fifty thousand people with only fifteen percent being Negroes. Railroad tracks that ran east to west served as an unwritten dividing line between the blacks and the whites. The blacks live south of the railroad tracks. The whites lived north, and all major businesses and industrial plants were located north of the tracks. The blacks had their own businesses, but they only catered to the Negros in the area. Whites would never do business in the black areas especially going to a Negro saloon.
Dodge County’s zoning was masterful and well designed. The downtown and business area were smack in the middle of the county. The white residential area surrounded the business area. Outside the white residential area, were industrial plants including a large, abandoned ammunition plant. Then, there were numerous farms that stretched up to the woods.
South of the tracks included the black residential areas and farms for the fortunate black people who could afford a farm. There were some small businesses in the black area, but no whites ever came to them. The Negroes had their own grocery store, clothing stores, some restaurants, and churches.
Leon, who took astronomy and physics in college, peered up into the sky to see if he could decipher his location. He could tell where west was by the moon’s location, which set in the west just like the sun. He calculated that the road was Route 12. He hoped that he was south of Lake Gerault, a large lake. He needed to stay in the woods and not wander off into the street. He was certainly in white man’s territory and in danger.
Using his flashlight, he started a slow jog. It was difficult with his head and sides aching. He sucked it up and kept jogging at a steady pace being careful not to trip on a branch or a rock. He continued to jog for about a mile when he approached the lake. Route 12 did not have a bridge to go over the lake. Instead, the road curved around the lake.
He was in a dilemma. The shortest way home was to follow the left side of the lake along Route 12, but that would expose him. There would be no woods to camouflage him. A black man in white man territory in the middle of the night was a dangerous proposition. He would have to go on the right side of the lake where woods encompassed the whole area. It would add miles to his route, but it would be safer. He had no choice and headed right. He could actually stay in the woods until he got to the railroad tracks, his safe haven.
He stopped and figured that he had to get rid of his stained underwear and towel. He took a stick and dug a shallow hole, put the garments into the hole, and filled it up with dirt.
He figured he was at least eight miles from
the railroad tracks. He needed to get there by sunrise. He wasn’t sure if he could make it in time.
He wasn’t sure what he was going to do once he got home. Once the Klan discovered the three dead white men, they would probably try to hang him again. He hoped his papa had a solution.
Wednesday, October 20, 1954
Chapter 3
Sheriff Jefferson Mason was worried. He was supposed to hear from Lucky once Lucky finished the job. It was now past midnight, and the Sheriff had not heard from him. Lucky should have been done by now. Perhaps, he was having too much fun and taking his time. Nevertheless, the Sheriff needed to call Acton, the barber and the local leader of the Klan. He hated to call him at the late hour.
He dialed the number and waited for a long time until someone picked up.
“Hello,” said a tired woman’s voice.
“Audrey, can I speak to Acton?”
“Why are you calling so late?”
“Please, get Acton. It’s important; I need to talk to him.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll get him.”
The Sheriff couldn’t believe how disrespectful Acton’s wife was treating him. He was the Sheriff and a man. Of course, he couldn’t scold her because Acton would pounce on him.
Ironically, this little encounter with Acton’s wife made him think about his late wife, Linda. His wife died suddenly of spinal meningitis about a year before Junior served in the Korean War. One day she appeared to be fine. Then, suddenly she got sick and within five days she died. The doctors couldn’t stop the disease.
Although he wasn’t happily married, he missed his wife. He didn’t realize how much he had loved her until she was gone. But she was a passive woman—not like Acton’s bossy wife.
The Sheriff had tried to court other women since his wife’s death, but none seem to take the bait. The Sheriff realized that he probably would have to lose some weight in order to attract women. Besides, most adult women were already married in Dodge County, so it was slim pickings for him.
