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CHAPTER 7
SHE LED THEM TO A small front parlor, which held four wooden chairs and a small table in the middle, and faded gray carpet under it all. There were pictures of people from young to old affixed to a wall. And on another wall were two framed photos: one of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the other of Robert Kennedy. Jack noted that both pictures had a gauzy black crepe around the perimeters as a show of respect after their deaths.
She indicated two chairs and they sat.
Miss Jessup said, “Y’all want some sweet tea? Just made it. Nice and cold.”
Jack said no, but his father nodded yes and she hurried away to fetch it. While she was gone Jack noted the stacks of the Virginia Times Dispatch on the floor. He looked at the one on top. The date was recent. She might have the paperboy in the neighborhood giving her some of his extras. Or maybe she had her own subscription now, he thought.
He turned to his father. “How does she stand living here with that smell?”
“Live with somethin’ long enough, you just forget it’s even there.”
“You really believe that?”
“Better’n that, I’ve done it, son,” said his father offhandedly.
“Momma will be wondering where we are,” he said.
“Depends.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You don’t live there, Jacky. Things have changed.”
“How?”
Miss Jessup came back into the room with a tall glass of sweet tea and handed it to Frank. She sat down across from them, picked up a dog-eared Look magazine, and started fanning herself. “Lord have mercy, heat and skeeters awful bad tonight.”
Jack said, “Heard you came by looking for me, Miss Jessup.” He thought for a moment to ask the woman what her Christian name was but decided to let it pass. She would always be Miss Jessup to him regardless.
She put the magazine in her lap and gazed at him. “Your momma was so mad. Why I’m surprised you two here.”
“Hilly can be a little... sensitive.” Frank sipped his tea and smacked his lips. “Mighty fine. Nice aftertaste.”
She gazed impishly at him. “Now you know that there’s the little splash of rye.”
“You were looking for me?” Jack said again, while giving his father a curious glance.
Miss Jessup nodded. “My middle daughter, Maggie, she got a daughter Pearl. Now, Pearl got a husband named Jerome. He need a lawyer and I thought ’a you.”
“What does he need a lawyer for?” asked Jack.
“Police arrested him for killin’ some folks.”
A startled Jack said, “Who did he kill?”
“Allegedly kill, that what Mr. Ashby said I should say. Asked him in the mornin’. After about eleven o’clock that man ain’t good for nothin’ ’cept a chaser.” She held up her hands. “But, sweet Jesus, don’t tell him I said so.”
“Okay. So who did Jerome allegedly kill?” asked Jack.
“Some folks, like I said.”
“So more than one?”
“Two,” she said, holding up the requisite number of fingers. She looked him over in an appraising manner.
Jack suddenly felt like he was back in high school and the teacher had picked him to humiliate that day.
