'First Howard Green gets killed, then Coretta goes the same way. Police do this to you and they say Dupree's still in jail. Time to go.'
'I can't go, Odell.'
'Why not?'
I looked at my house. My beautiful home.
'I just can't,' I said. 'But I do think you're right.'
'If you don't leave, Easy, then you better look for some help.'
'What kind'a help you mean?'
'I don't know. Maybe you should come on down to church on Sunday. Maybe you could talk to Reverend Towne.'
'Lord ain't got no succor fo' this mess. I'm'a have to look somewhere else.'
I got out of his car and waved him goodbye. But Odell was a good friend; he waited there until I had hobbled to my door and stumbled into the house.
I put away a pint and a half of bourbon before I could get to sleep. The sheets were crisp and dry and the fear was far enough away in the alcohol, but whenever I closed my eyes Coretta was there, hunching over me and kissing my chest.
I was still young enough that I couldn't imagine death really happening to someone I knew. Even in the war I expected to see friends again, though I knew they were dead.
The night carried on like that. I'd fall asleep for a few minutes only to wake up calling Coretta's name or to answer her calling me. If I couldn't fall back to sleep I'd reach for the bottle of whiskey next to the bed.
Later that night the phone rang.
'Huh?' I mumbled.
'Easy? Easy, that you?' came a rough voice.
'Yeah. What time is it?'
''Bout three. You 'sleep, man?'
'What you think? Who is this?'
'Junior. Don't you know me?'
It took me a while to remember who he was. Junior and I had never been friends and I couldn't even think of where he might have found my phone number.
'Easy? Easy! You fallin' back asleep?'
'What you want this time'a mornin', Junior?'
'Ain't nuthin'. Nuthin'.'
'Nuthin'? You gonna get me outta my bed at three fo' nuthin'?'
'Don't go soundin' off on me now, man. I just wanted to tell you what you wanted t'know.'
'What you want, Junior?'
''Bout that girl, thas all.' He sounded nervous. He was talking fast and I had the feeling that he kept looking over his shoulder. 'Why was you lookin' fo' her anyway?'
'You mean the white girl?'
'Yeah. I just remembered that I saw her last week. She come in with Frank Green.'
'What's her name?'
'I think he called her Daphne. I think.'
'So how come you just tellin' me now? How come you callin' me this late anyway?'
'I'ont get off till two-thirty, Easy. I thought you wanted to know, so I called ya.'
'You jus' figgered you'd call me in the middle'a the night an' tell me 'bout some girl? Man, you fulla shit! What the hell do you want?'
Junior let out a couple of curses and hung the phone in my ear.
I got the bottle and poured myself a tall drink. Then I lit up a cigarette and pondered Junior's call. It didn't make any sense, him calling me in the night just to tell me about some girl I wanted to play with. He had to know something. But what could a thick-headed field hand like Junior know about my business? I finished the drink and the cigarette but it still didn't make sense.
The whiskey calmed my nerves, though, and I was able to fall into a half sleep. I dreamed about casting for catfish down south of Houston when I was just a boy. There were giant catfish in the Gatlin River. My mother told me that some of them were so big that the alligators left them alone.
