Pop. 1280

better. Why, if you knew that god-danged Ken Lacey like I do, some of the mean things he's done-'

'No, Nick. Absolutely, no.'

'But, doggone it-!'

'No.'

'Now, you looky here, Amy,' I said. 'It just don't look to me like you're in any position to be givin' orders. You got guilty knowledge, like they say in the courts. You know I killed those fellas an' you didn't say nothin' about it, so if you try to do it later you're incriminatin' yourself.'

'I know that,' Amy nodded evenly. 'But I'd still do it, Nick. I'm sure you know I would.'

'But-'

But I did know she'd do it, even if it got her hanged. So there just wasn't anything more to say on the subject.

I looked at her, with her hair spilled out on the pillows and the warmth of her body warming mine. And I thought, god-dang, if this ain't a heck of a way to be in bed with a pretty woman. The two of you arguing about murder, and threatening each other, when you're supposed to be in love and you could be doing something pretty nice. And then I thought, well, maybe it ain't so strange after all. Maybe it's like this with most people, everyone doing pretty much the same thing except in a different way. And all the time they're holding heaven in their hands.

'I'm sorry, honey,' I said. 'O' course, I'll do whatever you want. I wouldn't never want to do nothing else.'

'And I'm sorry, too, darling.' She brushed my mouth with a kiss. 'And I'll do what you want. As soon as things here are a little more settled, I'll go away with you.'

'Fine. That's just fine, honey,' I said.

'I want to very much, dear, and I will. Just as soon as we can be sure that there are no loose ends here.'

I said again that that was just fine, wondering what I was going to do about a great big loose end like Rose Hauck. Then I thought, well, I'd just have to face that problem when I came to it. And I put everything out of my mind but Amy, and I reckon she put everything out of her mind but me. And it was like it was before, only more so.

It was like nothing that ever was. Only more so.

Then, again we were layin' there side by side. Breathing together, hearts beating together. And suddenly Amy tore her hand out of mine, and sat up.

'Nick! What's that?'

'What? What's what?'

I looked to the window where she was pointing, at the drawn shade with its rim of flickering light.

Then, I jumped up and ran to the window, and tilted the shade back. And I guess I must have groaned out loud.

'God-dang,' I said. 'God-dang it to heck, anyway!'

'Nick, what is it, darling?'

'Colored town. It's on fire.'

I guess I should have known it might happen. Because Tom Hauck was a white man, whatever else you said about him, and it looked like a colored fella had killed him. So some idjit would get the notion that 'the niggers got to be taught a lesson,' and he'd spread the word to other idjits. And pretty soon there'd be trouble.

I got dressed with Amy watchin' me worriedly. She asked me what I was going to do, and I said I didn't know, but I was sure going to have to do something. Because a thing like this, a sheriff bein' off fishing when trouble broke, was just the kind of thing that could lose an election.

'But, Nick… that doesn't matter now, does it? As long as we're going away together?'

'When?' I jerked on my boots. 'You can't name no definite date, can you?'

'Well-' She bit her lip. 'I see what you mean, dear.'

'Might be a year or two,' I said. 'But even if it was only six months, I better be in office. Makes it a lot easier to wrap up any of them loose ends you mentioned than it would if I was just an ordinary citizen.'

I finished dressing, and she let me out the back door.

I went back the way I'd come, down to the river, then up the river bank. And of course I didn't keep my fishing pole with me.

I came up on the far side of the Negro section, dirtyin' myself with some charcoal from the fire. Then, I mingled in with the crowd, beating at the flames with a wet toesack that someone had dropped.

Actually, there wasn't a whole lot of damage; maybe a total of six or seven burned shacks. What with the recent rain and no wind, the fire was slow in starting and it didn't have a chance to spread far before it was discovered.

I started telling some colored folks what to do, working right along with them. Then, I stood back for a minute, wiping the sweat from my eyes, and someone tapped me on the shoulder.

It was Robert Lee Jefferson, and he looked about as stern as I'd ever seen him.

'God-dang, ain't this something, Robert Lee?' I said. 'No telling what might have happened if I hadn't been right here Johnny-on-the-spot when the fire broke out.'

'Come along,' he said.

'Why, thanks, Robert Lee,' I said, 'but I don't rightly think I can. This fire-'

'The fire is fully under control. It was under control long before you got here. Now, come along.'

I climbed into his carriage with him. We drove to his store, and there were other carriages and buggies and horses tied up outside, and there were maybe a half a dozen men waiting on the sidewalk. Important citizens like Mr. Dinwiddie, the bank president, and Zeke Carlton, who owned the cotton gin, and Stonewall Jackson Smith, the school superintendent, and Samuel Houston Taylor, who owned Taylor's Emporium, Furniture and Undertaking.

We all went inside. We sat down in Robert Lee's office, or I should say, everybody but me sat down. Because there just wasn't no place for me to sit.

Zeke Carlton started the meeting by slamming his fists down on the desk and asking just what the hell kind of county were we running. 'Do you know what can come of a thing like this tonight, Nick? Do you know what happens when a bunch of poor helpless niggers get burned out?'

'I got a pretty good idea,' I said. 'All the colored folks get scared, and maybe they ain't around when it comes cotton-pickin' time.'

'You're tootin' well right, they're not! Scarin' them god-dam poor niggers could cost us all a pisspot full of money!'

'Your wife said you'd gone fishing tonight,' Robert Lee Jefferson said. 'At just what point on the river were you when the fire broke out?'

'I didn't go fishing,' I said.

'Now, Corey,' Stonewall Jackson Smith said firmly. 'I saw you heading toward the river myself with a fishing pole and line. I'd say that was pretty conclusive evidence that you did go fishing.'

'Well, now, I just don't think I can agree with you,' I said. 'I wouldn't say you was wrong, but I sure wouldn't say you was right, neither.'

'Oh, cut it out, Nick!' snapped Samuel Houston Taylor. 'We-'

'Take t'other night, now,' I went on, 'I seen a certain fella crawlin' into an empty freight car with a certain high school teacher. But I don't think that's conclusive evidence they was shipping themselves somewhere.'

Stonewall Jackson turned fiery red. The others looked at him, kind of narrow-eyed, like they was