The Prodigy Slave, Book One: Journey to Winter Garden: (Revised Edition 2020)

by Londyn Skye

  “Now don’t you worry y’ur pretty little head if you don’t get out on time, ya’ hear? I’m sure somebody’ll volunteer to keep y’ur honey warm t’night afta’ her show. Just might be that nigga’ William done raised up all them years. I saw the way he was lookin’ at ’er durin’ that fundraisa’. He seemed awful sweet on y’ur lil’ monkey,” Tucker teased. He squatted down and cocked his head to the side to be sure he had a good view of James’s reaction. “Or maybe William’s ol’ dried up ass still got enough juice in ’em to get it up and give y’ur little honey-brown bitch a pickle tickle,” he laughed. “Or hell, come to think of it … just might be me.” He licked his dried-up lips. “I swear, I ain’t been able to get ’er sweet little ass off my mind since the day you laid me out at Buck’s Tavern. I been dyin’ for her to give me the kind ‘a lovin’ that’ll make me wanna knock a man smooth on his ass!” It took every bit of effort for Tucker’s lungs to force his laugh through the cigar-tarred congestion in his throat. “I’m jealous of ya’, schoolboy! I ain’t neva’ had me no ass as good as that … yet. I’ma fix that t’night, though,” he smiled, showing his tobacco-stained teeth. “Well, I bes’ get goin’ if I wanna make it to the show on time. I got quite a long ride ahead ‘a me. You sleep well now, ya’ hear?” Tucker looked up at the sky. “You be sure ‘n cova’ up good, schoolboy. Gonna be awful cold layin’ in that cot t’night all by y’ur lonesome,” he said, letting out another phlegm-filled laugh.

  James refused to give Tucker the reaction he wanted, despite his sudden desire to grab him by the neck. He wanted to squeeze until the blood drained from Tucker’s face, his lips turned purple, his beady eyes bulged from his head, and his chest ceased movement. To refrain from his murderous impulse, James tightened his grip on the cell bars and waited for the annoying town outcast to leave.

  After Tucker rode off, James actually felt a twinge of envy knowing that he was headed to the place that he desperately wanted to be. When he was long gone, James walked to the small window above his cell and saw nothing but the dust Tucker’s horse left behind. When the dust settled, his attention drifted to two young boys playing nearby, wearing tattered clothes and no shoes.

  “Heeey fellas!” James called out to them in a husky tone, trying to keep his voice from reaching the ears of the sheriff. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was coming before calling out to them again. On his second attempt, both boys looked around, wondering where the voice was coming from. James stuck his arm through the cell bars and waved them over. “Ova’ here!”

  The two boys looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders before wandering over to see what James wanted. “What is it, mista’?” the scrawniest of the two asked.

  “You boys wanna make some money?” James held up two five-dollar bills that had been tucked away in his back pocket.

  “Sure!” they said in unison, theirs eyes widening at the bills waved before them.

  “Then listen, I need both ‘a you to go and find a fella named Harrison Mitchell. He’s a good friend ‘a mine. He lives on Post Road, not far from the big fishin’ creek. You know where that is?”

  “Sure! We fish there all the time.”

  “Good, well Harrison’s got the only big white house on that road, ’bout a quarta’ mile from there. Tell ’em that James Adams is down at the county jail and that I need his help. Tell ’em that it’s real urgent and that I need ’em to come right away, okay? Can you rememba’ all that?”

  “Yessa’!” both boys said in unison.

  “If you get ’em down here quick then this ten dollars is all yours, okay?”

  “Yessa’!” they both replied again, sounding as giddy as two boys could be over that amount of money.

  “I’ll give ya’ five dollars now, and you can get the rest when ya’ get back, ya’ hear?” he promised, as he handed one of the bills over to them. “Go on, now. Go as fast as your little legs’ll carry ya’.”

  Without another word, both boys bolted down the road, kicking up as much dust as Tucker’s horse had on his way out of town. When they were out of sight, James sat on his bed and waited with his stomach in knots, hoping that giving up ten dollars would be worth it in the end.

  James had been trying to summon the deputies to contact his old roommate and fraternity brother for nearly a week. Harrison had never failed to be there for James while they were in school. He had always invited him to stay with his family during school breaks, since he knew that James had no desire to return to Virginia. Despite the fact that they were close, James had never confided in Harrison about the details of the reason why he refused to go home. Harrison never pressured him about it either, sensing that it was a very sensitive subject. Instead of pushing James to get past the issues he was running away from at home, Harrison simply welcomed him to stay at his. Having been there for him faithfully in the past, James was confident that Harrison would most certainly be there for him again, so long as those two little boys were successful in finding him.

  Just over an hour later, James heard footsteps outside his cell window, followed by the sound of two young voices. The two little boys had gone to the big white house near the fishing creek, but Harrison’s wife informed them that he was still at the courthouse. Eager to fulfill their mission for the remainder of their money, the boys found Harrison there just as he was wrapping up a minor court case. They then quickly ushered him across the street to James’s basement cell window. “He’s ova’ here, mista’!” one of them pointed out to Harrison.

  James stood on his bed again and handed over the remainder of the money that he had promised his tiny heroes. “Thank you, boys!”

  “Thanks, mista’!” they exclaimed, before running off to spend their earnings.

  Harrison squatted down to see James better. “Well, well, well. What the hell kind ‘a mess you done got ya’self into these days, Adams?”

  James was not in the mood for sarcasm. “Listen, I don’t have much time. You gotta get me the hell outta here. I’ve been here for almost a week ova’ some bullshit charges.”

  “Just what kind ‘a bullshit charges we talkin’ about?”

  “I got in a fight with some asshole at Buck’s Tavern a few weeks back. A deputy came out to the house a couple ‘a weeks lata’ with a warrant for my arrest. That was a week ago, and I’ve been sittin’ in here eva’ since.”

  “I need to know more than that. Give me specifics. What exactly was on the warrant?”

  “Simple battery, destruction ‘a property … Umm, disturbin’ the peace, and disorderly conduct, I think.”

  “You’ve been stuck here a week for that?!”

  “Yeah.”

  “You haven’t seen a judge yet?”

  “No, nothin’! I’m tellin’ ya’, I haven’t left this goddamn cell! Somehow, I think the little shit who put me in here has everything to do with the reason I’m still sittin’ here, but that’s anotha’ matta’ for anotha’ time. All I know is that you gotta get me the hell outta here!”

  “What little shit’re you talkin’ about?”

  “Guy named Tucker.”

  “McCormick?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  Harrison laughed. “Damn! Yeah, you certainly chose the wrong piece ‘a shit to fight with. He and Sheriff Tolliva’ been friends since they were boys.”

  “That explains a lot. Lucky me.”

  “Have you asked for an attorney?”

  “I’ve lost count ‘a how many times I’ve asked them to get a hold ‘a you! I’m tellin’ you, they don’t give a shit! I just kept gettin’ fed all these goddamn excuses, and now they’re just ignorin’ me!”

  Harrison realized that the line of questioning was only agitating James more. “Well, unfortunately, the courts have just closed for the day, but I can draw up some papers tonight and then first thing Monday mornin’…”

  “I don’t fuckin’ have ’til Monday! I need to get the hell outta here! Now!”

  “Whoa man, hold your v
oice down,” Harrison said, looking over James’s shoulder to see if he had gotten the attention of any deputies.

  “Don’t worry, they’re good at ignorin’ me by now,” James replied, briefly looking over his shoulder too. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just … you gotta help me. Please,” he begged. “You gotta get me outta here. I got somewhere I need to be tonight. It’s important to me. Really important,” he sighed.

  Harrison let his thoughts consume him for a moment while he tried to think of a quicker solution. “Alright, I think I got somethin’. I’ll be back. Just hold tight.”

  “What the hell else am I gonna do?” James mumbled after he walked off.

  Harrison boldly walked into the front lobby of the county jail that had been James’s home for the last week. “Sheriff Tolliva’, how do you do?” he asked.

  “Well, well, well, Harrison Mitchell,” Sheriff Tolliver replied, standing and taking hold of his hand to shake. “Ned,” Tolliver said, speaking to a young, goofy-looking, rookie deputy at a desk nearby. “This fella here is one ‘a the finest damn attorneys I’ve eva’ laid my eyes on.” He turned to look at Harrison again. “Neva’ did get to thank ya’ for what you did for ma’ sista’.”

  “No thanks necessary, Sheriff. Afta’ I saw what ’er husband did to ’er face, there was no way I was gonna let that son of a bitch get away with abusin’ ’er like that.”

  “It may seem like no big deal to you, but I can’t count how many otha’ jackass attorneys failed ’er. Eitha’ they were too damn timid, or they were easily swayed by ’er ex-husband’s money. Bunch ‘a damn crooks,” Tolliver snarled. “But you! You were like a goddamn rabid dog attackin’ ’er ex-husband while he was up there on that stand!” He gave a hearty laugh. “In all my years, I ain’t neva’ seen nothin’ like it!”

  “Well, thank you,” Harrison smiled. “I knew she needed a strong voice on ’er side, and I didn’t wanna let ’er down.”

  “And you didn’t. That’s somethin’ she’ll neva’ forget you for eitha’.”

  “Trust me, I’ll neva’ forget her eitha’, nor those tears she cried durin’ the verdict when it was all ova’. Tears ‘a justice, that’s what those were to me. I’s just a rookie attorney then, and it affected me pretty deep knowin’ I had the powa’ to help give ’er that sort ‘a justice. That’s what I live for now. It’s what I fight for. I crave it. I yearn for it. I dream of it. I want every one ‘a my clients to know the feelin’ of justice. No matta’ how big or how small the offense, I wanna feel that euphoric victory vicariously through them. I ain’t lost a case yet because of it, and I owe that to your sista’ for given me a chance to fight on her behalf. She lit a fire unda’ my ass, that’s for damn sure.”

  “Seems you’ve both gained a lot from each otha’ then. I tell you what, son, any man should be proud to have you as his attorney knowin’ how hard y’ur willin’ to fight for y’ur clients.”

  “You’re too kind.”

  Sheriff Tolliver nodded and sat back down. “Well now, what can I do ya’ for today?”

  Harrison nonchalantly walked over and looked at a few of the sheriff’s plaques hanging on the walls. “It’s an election year, ain’t it?”

  “Sure is.”

  “You runnin’ again?”

  “Sure am.”

  “Must be important to ya’, then … to portray yourself to the vota’s as a man who upholds and abides by every aspect of the law “Of course,” Tolliver responded, leaning back in his chair, starting to look at Harrison a bit oddly about his choice of conversation.

  “Ya’ know, I’ve been in that courtroom a whole hell of a lot in the last two years since helpin’ ya’ sista’,” Harrison continued, as he strolled from plaque to plaque. “And it neva’ escapes my attention how many people pack into the pews durin’ those public hearin’s on a daily basis. I see all kinds ‘a different people driftin’ in there. Everything from town gossipers who like to be nosy, to bored retired old men. Hell, some folks’re just lookin’ to get outta the heat or the cold. All different kind ‘a people, all there for their own different reasons, but one thing ’bout all of ’em is the same … they’re voters. Each and every one of ’em gets to cast their ballot come election time. All those folks wanna be sure they cast their vote for the sort ‘a politicians that are honest, for judges who are fair and just, and for a sheriff…” Harrison finally turned around to look at Sheriff Tolliver. “For a sheriff who upholds and abides strictly by the laws. The people want a sheriff that ain’t swayed by money or politicians or … oh, I don’t know, old friends who ask unlawful favors. A diligent, law abidin’ sheriff who believes wholeheartedly in every citizen’s right to swift due process, that’s what the people want! Ain’t that right, Ned?” Harrison asked, while still staring at Sheriff Tolliver.

  “See Ned, the people ‘a this town don’t wanna think that a sheriff they voted for is the kinda person who would lock a man up for minor offenses like simple battery, causin’ minor property damages, or somethin’ as silly as disturbin’ the peace, and then neva’ botha’ to let ’em see a judge and post his bail, or pay his fines within a reasonable amount ‘a time, the way the law states. The good people ‘a this town would be outraged to learn that a sheriff they elected was the sort ‘a man to deny a petty criminal an attorney afta’ he begs for one for a whole week! Hell Ned! I’ve seen murderers who were granted lawya’s and a chance to see a judge in less time than that! No! The good votin’ people ‘a this county, who pack those pews to the gills in the courthouse every day, wouldn’t wanna know such a thing about their elected official, now would they, Ned?” Harrison walked over, placed both his hands on Tolliver’s desk, and leaned toward him. “And I highly doubt that’s the sort ‘a thing that a sheriff would like to explain to a judge in front of all ‘a those vote-castin’ citizens loiterin’ in the courtroom every day when there’s a rabid dog questionin’ ’em while he’s up there on that stand!”

  Tolliver jumped to his feet and fearlessly leaned across his desk toward Harrison. “You must be outta y’ur goddamn mind, boy! I don’t believe you’d really be dumb enough to put y’ur career on the line for that nigga’ lovin’ piece ‘a shit!” he growled, staring Harrison down with blood-red eyes.

  “If you think that’s the only thing I know about how corrupt you are, then you’re the one who’s outta his goddamn mind! I got enough dirt on you to fill the fishin’ creek near my house two times ova’. I’ll snuff it dry with all y’ur dirty little secrets if that’s the chance you wanna take,” Harrison threatened, bluffing with rumors he had heard about Sheriff Tolliver, but had no real evidence to back up.

  Tolliver didn’t blink, hoping to refrain from showing the slightest hint of fear. “Get the keys to the cell, Ned,” he demanded, without turning his eyes away from Harrison.

  “You do that, Ned. Quick, fast, and in a hurry.” Harrison finally stepped back and smirked at Tolliver when he heard the cell keys rattling.

  “You tell Buck Harley that my client agrees to pay for all ‘a the damages done to his property within thirty days of receiving a written estimate, not a penny more or less,” Harrison told the sheriff once James was out of his cell and standing beside him. Harrison was about to walk away after that but then stopped and turned back toward Tolliver. “Oh, and uh, bein’ the law abidin’ sheriff that you are, somehow I think you’ll find it in y’ur heart to make all those otha’ charges magically disappear.”

  Tolliver crumpled James’s warrant and dropped it into the trash.

  “Now, that’s magic if I eva’ seen it. You’re damn sure worthy ‘a my vote!” Harrison joked.

  “Get y’ur asses outta my jailhouse!” Tolliver erupted.

  “Good luck with that re-election.” Harrison tipped his hat. “Have a fine day gentlemen.”

  “Don’t know what kind ‘a strings you just pulled in there, but I can’t thank you enough” James said, squinting after the sunlight hit his eyes for the first time in days.

  “Don’t
mention it. Neva’ could stand ol’ Tolliva’s fat ass anyway. Felt good,” Harrison replied, as they walked toward his carriage across the road. “So, I hear there’s a big symphony t’night up in New Lexington. My guess is that’s where you’re so eaga’ to go.”

  James didn’t say a word, but the look on his face said it all.

  Harrison grabbed James’s shirt sleeve. “Well, I hope you’re not goin’ there lookin’ like this.” He leaned in and sniffed him. “Or smellin’ like that eitha’,” he laughed. He slapped James on the shoulder. “Come on, Adams, let me help my ol’ fraternity brotha’ out.”

  “Thanks. I owe you big time for this, Mitchell,” James said, as he climbed into his carriage.

  “No. Seems you owe it to a certain someone else to get your ass to that symphony on time,” Harrison replied. He then snapped the reins to prompt his horses into a gallop toward his house, where he planned to loan James some clothes, a razor, a toothbrush, and some much-needed soap.

  Just as with all James’s other issues in the past, Harrison did not question him any further about why he nearly fell apart emotionally over the fact that he might miss Lily’s performance. He was now fairly confident of what the answer to that would be anyway. A few weeks prior, James had invited Harrison and his wife, Lauren, to come and watch Lily perform at William’s estate. While there, Harrison noticed that there was something unique about the relationship that James had with Lily. He heard the pride in James’s tone when he finally introduced Lily to him at the after party. As the night carried on, Harrison continued to watch them as they interacted. He was warmed by the sight of the pair dancing, smiling, and laughing throughout the entire evening. With Lily by his side, James seemed like a dramatically different person to Harrison, one that was finally exuding genuine happiness. It only took those few hours to convince Harrison that Lily was the answer to all the questions regarding James’s odd behavior in school: why he fought the desire to return home during school breaks, why he seemed to constantly drink his sorrows away, and why he used women as toys and never bothered to involve himself emotionally with any of them. Harrison did not blame James for what he felt for Lily. He, too, had been taken aback by how intelligent, funny, warm, and stunningly beautiful she was. He instantly understood how Lily could cause a man like James to feel internally torn, to the extent that he would act out his frustrations in bizarre ways. Harrison left the party that evening feeling deeply empathetic to the uniqueness of their circumstances.