There was a scuttling movement on the porch, and suddenly there was a smacking sound and Mr. Nation hit the ground in front of us. We could see him through the steps. His face turned in our direction, but I don’t think he saw us. It was dark under the house, and he had his mind on other things. He got up quick like, leaving his hat on the ground, then we heard movement on the porch, the screen door again, and Daddy’s voice. “Ethan, don’t come back on the porch. Go on home.”
“Who do you think you are to tell me anything?” Mr. Nation said.
“Right now, I’m the constable, and you come up on this porch, you do one little thing that annoys me, I will arrest you.”
“You and who else?”
“Just me.”
“What about him? He hit me. You’re on his side because he took up for you.”
“I’m on his side because you’re a loudmouth spoiling everyone else’s good time. You been drinkin’ too much. Go home and sleep it off, Ethan. Let’s don’t let this get out of hand.”
Mr. Nation’s hand dropped down and picked up his hat. He said, “You’re awfully high and mighty, aren’t you?”
“There’s just no use fighting over something foolish,” Daddy said.
“You watch yourself, nigger lover,” Mr. Nation said.
“Don’t come by the barbershop no more,” Daddy said.
“Wouldn’t think of it, nigger lover.”
Then Mr. Nation turned and we saw him walking away.
Daddy said: “Cecil. You talk too much.”
“Yeah, I know,” Cecil said.
“Now, I was gonna get some pie,” Daddy said. “I’m gonna go back inside and try it again. When I come back out, how’s about we talk about somethin’ altogether different?”
“Suits me,” someone said, and I heard the screen door open again. For a moment I thought they were all inside, then I realized Daddy and Cecil were still on the porch, and Daddy was talking to Cecil.
“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,” Daddy said.
“It’s all right,” Cecil said. “You’re right. I talk too much.”
“So do I. I shouldn’t have told you I had a suspect in the first place. I didn’t tell you to be quiet about it. I should have. I can’t say I’m much of a policeman. I think I was talkin’ so I could brag a bit. About what, I don’t know. Feeling like I’m on the job, I guess.”
“Still, I knew better.”
“Let’s forget it. And thanks for hitting Nation. You didn’t owe me that.”
“I did it because I owed him that. This suspect, Jacob. You think he did it?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Is he safe?”
“For now. I may just let him go and never let it be known who he is.”
“Again, I’m sorry, Jacob.”
“No problem. Let’s get some of that pie.”
10
On the way home in the car the windows were rolled down and the October wind was fresh and ripe with the smell of the woods. My belly was full of pie and lemonade and I was cozy and content. I was thinking of Louise Canerton, and I found myself wondering how she would look without her dress. The thought bothered me and I tried not to dwell on it. But I kept thinking about her bosom, her long legs and how they would feel beneath my hands.
Finally I prayed silently to God, but all the while I was thinking of her naked. I wondered if God saw her naked. He must. What did he think about that? Did he like what he saw? Was there no consideration for what he saw? Didn’t he create her? If so, why did he make ugly people?
I believe it was at that point, although I didn’t realize it at the time, my ideas of God and religion were starting to change, even erode.
As we wound through the woods along the dirt road that led to our house, I began to feel sleepy.
Tom had already nodded off with her dirt-stained ghost mask clutched in her hands. I leaned against the side of the car and began to halfway doze. In time, I realized Mama and Daddy were talking.
“He had her purse?” Mama said.
“Yeah,” Daddy said. “He had it, and he’d taken money from it.”
“Could it be him?”
“He says he was fishing, saw the purse and her dress floating, snagged the purse with his fishing line. The dress washed on by him. He saw there was money in the purse, and he took it. Figured a purse in the river wasn’t something anyone was going to find, and there wasn’t any name in it, and it was just five dollars going to waste. Said he didn’t even consider that someone had been murdered.”
“So you believe him?”
“I believe him. I’ve known Old Mose all my life. He practically lives on that river in that boat of his. He wouldn’t harm a fly. Besides, the man’s over seventy years old and not in the best of health. He’s had a hell of a life. His wife ran off forty years ago and he’s never gotten over it. His son disappeared when he was a youngster. Whoever raped this woman had to be pretty strong. She was young enough, and from the way her body looked, she put up a pretty good fight. Man did this had to be strong enough to… well, she was cut up pretty bad. Same as the other woman.”
“Oh dear.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“How did you come by the purse?”
“I went to see Mose. Like I always do when I’m down on the river. It was layin’ on the table in his shack. I had to arrest him. I don’t know I should have now. Maybe I should have taken the purse and said I found it. I believe him. But I don’t have evidence one way or the other.”
“Didn’t Mose have some trouble before?”
“When his wife ran off some thought he’d killed her. She was fairly loose. That was the rumor. Nothing ever came of it.”
“But he could have done it?”
“I suppose.”
“And what about his boy? What happened there?”
“Telly was the boy’s name. He was addle-headed. Mose claimed that’s why his wife run off. She was embarrassed by that addle-headed boy. Kid disappeared four or five years later and Mose never talked about it. Some thought he killed him too. But that’s just rumor. White folks talkin’ about colored folks like they do. I believe his wife ran off. The boy wasn’t much of a thinker, and he may have run off too. He liked to roam the woods and river. He might have drowned, fallen in some hole somewhere and never got out.”
“But none of that makes it look good for Mose, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“What are you gonna do, Jacob?”
“I don’t know. I was afraid to lock him up over at the courthouse. It isn’t a real jail anyway, and word gets around a colored man was involved, there won’t be any real thinking on the matter. I talked Bill Smoote into letting me keep Mose over at his bait house.”
“Couldn’t Mose just run away?”
“I suppose. But he’s not in that good a health, hon. And he trusts me to investigate, clear him. That’s what makes me nervous. I don’t know how. I thought about talking to the county boys that cover Pearl Creek. They have more experience, but they have a tendency to be a little emotional themselves.”
“You mean Red.”
