The Choiring of the Trees - Donald Harington [92]
“It was pervoked,” the sheriff said lamely. “I mean, naw, you didn’t pervoke him, and thar weren’t no excuse for thet Buckhorn misbehavior, but Waymon Chism shore enough incited and aggervated and brung it on hisself.”
Viridis turned and looked coldly at the sheriff, but she pointed her finger at Sull. “Why isn’t this low-life coward in jail?” she demanded.
“Ma’am!” said the sheriff. “Watch who yo’re talkin about! He’s the county jedge! We aint about to put him in no jail!”
Sull said, “Duster, why don’t we put her in jail like we was fixin to?”
“Now, now, boys,” Judge Villines said. He was saying “boys” the same way everybody does in this part of the country, meaning any male even eighty or ninety, but I couldn’t help feeling these “boys” weren’t any older than me; they certainly weren’t behaving any better than rowdy children. “Let’s us not be rude to a representative of the Arkansas Gazette. Don’t we want to show ourself in the best light and present a favorable front to the rest of the world? We caint go around arrestin gentlemen and ladies of the public press.”
Sheriff Snow said, “We jist come over yere to git Rindy Whitter fer a little talk, Jedge. That’s all we come over fer, but then this yere lady started makin trouble.”
Judge Villines asked Viridis, “Couldn’t these men simply have a few words with little Miss Whitter here, ma’am?”
“Not him.” Viridis pointed at Sull again.
“Why, how come, ma’am? He’s got a personal interest in this matter too.”
“He certainly does!” Viridis said. I had the feeling she was losing her temper, and then, sure enough, she lost it. “He viciously tricked Dorinda Whitter into submitting herself to a sexual assault which he performed upon her himself, and he inflicted unspeakable pain upon her, and then forced her into blaming innocent Nail Chism for what he had done!” Not a word or utterance of reply was made to these words by anybody, not by the accused, not by the accused’s confederates. The only sound to break the silence, finally, was a small, stifled sob from Rindy.
At last Judge Villines spoke up. “That’s a very serious charge, ma’am, and it’s totally unsubstantiated, and it’s pint-blank hearsay, and I would be very careful before I’d go around sayin things like that.”
“It will be said in the pages of the Arkansas Gazette as soon as I get back to Little Rock.”
“Duster, you’d better th’ow her in jail!” Sull said. “It’s too late to shut up Rindy. We better jist th’ow this bitch in jail and keep ’er thar!”
Judge Villines, such a mild man, lost his temper then. “Shut yore fool mouth, Sull! Aint you done made enough trouble already? Jist shut up, afore ye go and make it worse!”
“Yeah,” said Sheriff Duster Snow. “Yeah, Sull, you heared the jedge. Let’s us jist simmer down and shush it up.”
There was a shuffling of feet as the men waited to see which of them would make the first move to leave. The old woman got the last word: “It will be so pleasant when all of you bastards have removed yourselves from my porch.”
All the bastards got off the porch.
Viridis and Rindy left Stay More early the next morning. I was there to see them off. I hated it. My best friend, off and on, terribly off for the longest time but now back on again, going away to the big city, where I’d love to go someday, any day. We cried. “On’t ye come wif me?” Rindy said. “Caint,” I said. “Ess ast Miss Monday kin ye,” she suggested. “No, there’s not no room no way,” I said. And there wasn’t, atop that poor mare, Rosabone, who’d be loaded down a-carrying the two of them. Much, much later, when I learned all about the trip, I knew they had dismounted from Rosabone on the hills and ridden her only downhill and on the level places, and still she was a brave old mare to take them both plumb to Clarksville. Rindy had on a pair of one of her brothers’ pants so she could ride astraddle behind Viridis, and Viridis had put back on those jodhpurs that she’d never had a chance to let anyone