The Choiring of the Trees - Donald Harington [49]
“Why don’t he?” Nail asked, and when Waymon did not answer but just hung his head, Nail asked, “Don’t he have none of that three hunderd dollars left?”
Waymon tried to explain. It was complicated. That new lawyer they’d hired, Farrell Cobb of Little Rock, wasn’t charging them the whole three hundred dollars for his appeal to the Supreme Court. Part of it was a “retainer,” which, Waymon attempted to explain, was to make sure that Mr. Cobb would do everything he could, for as long as it took, to get Nail out. The agreement with Cobb stipulated that in the event of Nail’s electrocution, Seth Chism would get a partial refund.
“Shit,” Nail commented. “Paw’d be better off if I was fried, after all.”
“Don’t ye talk lak thet, Nail,” Waymon pled. “Yore life is worth a whole lot more than three hunderd dollars.”
“It aint worth more than our whole damn farm!” Nail said. Then he asked, “How’s my sheep?”
Again Waymon hung his head. “Nail, I hate to tell ye. You know I hate to tell ye. What few of them sheep the drought didn’t git, the dogs got.”
“Ever last one of ’em?” Nail asked. “Didn’t they leave me a lamb or two?”
Waymon shook his head.
“Well,” Nail said, and pictured his pastures empty of their flocks. Right now there would be no grass: the last of the autumn grass would be gone, and the spring grass not started yet. He asked, “How’s Maw?”
“Jist fine,” Waymon said. “She wanted to come with me, but Paw wouldn’t let her. She’ll shore be glad to see that I’m bringin a empty box home.”
“Irene? How’s she been?” Nail asked of their sister.
Waymon gave his head a tilt and dip. “Lonesome, don’t ye know? But she’s a big help to Maw, and they keep each other company, I reckon.”
“She don’t see Sull no more?”
Waymon shook his head. “She aint been back to Jasper one time since yore trial.”
They talked until their fifteen minutes were up. Waymon told him that he had accosted Sull Jerram on the square in Jasper and told him that he, Waymon, intended to put him in his grave if Nail died in the chair. Waymon’s parting words to his brother were “Well, you didn’t die in the chair, but I’m a mind to put Sull in his grave anyhow, for what he done to ye.”
Waymon was not the only visitor he had that day. Two more visitors came before dark. You were supposed to get only one visit a month, but these two didn’t count, because they were the preacher and the lawyer. The preacher was Jimmie Mac, who said he just wanted to say he was real happy that Nail was still alive and he wondered if Nail had had time yet to make up his mind that the good Lord Himself had seen fit to spare him, and wasn’t that enough to convince him that the good Lord really did exist and cared for him? Jimmie Mac was disappointed to learn that Nail had not followed his advice and spent his last hours in prayer, but he could understand how a feller might have other things on his mind at such a time. But now that the execution had been postponed, didn’t Nail think he had some time to seek out the Lord and take it to Him in prayer and ask Him for His forgiveness and blessing and promise of salvation forevermore? Didn’t Nail know that God loved him? Didn’t Nail realize that God works in mysterious ways and we are not to question His wisdom but glory in His deeds? Had Nail read Hebrews the twelfth chapter and the verses three through thirteenth, especially the sixth verse: “For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth”? Didn’t Nail wish to be a son of the Lord and endure the Father’s chastisement? Couldn’t Nail understand what a challenge it was to be chastened and punished and to survive whole and pure in the sight of God and reap the rewards of life everlasting and the fruits of righteousness?
“No,” replied Nail.
“No which?” asked Jimmie Mac.
“No I don’t have much use for that Lord,” he said.
The lawyer came just before suppertime and wasn’t required to use the visit room but was allowed to sit with Nail right in the mess hall. The lawyer was right at home