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Jack glanced at his father, who was still worrying at his thumb.
Without looking at him Frank said, “Your momma’s a good person, Jacky, with a big heart despite how she comes across sometimes. Now, she has her beliefs. You may not agree with them, but they’re what she believes because she’s never known anythin’ else. And she has seen more than you ever will. Hell, she had to learn to take care of herself at a young age because her folks would just leave her alone up on that mountain for months at a time. Guess after nine kids before your momma came along they were just tired of bein’ parents. Gettin’ coal in the dead of night, shootin’ critters for food and plantin’ and tendin’ a garden, and looking after the laying hens so she’d have somethin’ to eat, outrunnin’ bears and mountain lions, goin’ without, pretty much every day of her life, that was what your momma endured up on that mountain.
“And she was the best natural athlete I ever saw, man or woman. She’d bet the boys she could outrun them, speed or distance, and then she would. Way she earned money to clothe herself. When she was in school she could put the ball in the hoop, and knock it over the fence. I seen all the ribbons and trophies she won; she was proud of them. Then, after Lucy was born the way she was, your ma threw them all away.”
Jack said, “I never knew it was that bad. She never talks about any of it.”
“What that woman carries, she carries about as deep inside her as a person can. She shoulda gone to college. Become a doctor or a teacher; she has the mind for it. But she never had the chance, and that eats at a person. She was real proud when you went on to law school. I think she saw a bit of herself in you. At least what she coulda been.”
“And what do you think about me representing a Black man?”
“I work with them folks all day long. Good solid people. Honest and likable. Do their job and go about their business and never bother nobody. Do I think any of them will be my best friend? No, I don’t think so because I’ve never done that and neither have they. They stick to their own kind and so do we. I don’t know if it’s right or wrong, but it’s just the way things have always been. But truth be known, it will change, least I believe so. But I’ll be long gone by then. Hell, maybe you will too.”
“But you wanted me to represent Jerome.”
His father leaned forward. “What I wanted, Jacky, was for you to do somethin’, I don’t know, important, with your life. I know how smart you are and so does your ma. All you needed was a chance. And despite what your momma said, when she was watchin’ you on the TV give back to that ass Pickett as good as you got, she was smilin’ a mile wide. Proud as a peacock.”
“So this is all about me and my path to shine? What about Jerome?”
“I got nothin’ against him, ’cept if he did kill those folks he needs to pay for his crime. But is that so wrong, a father wantin’ the best for his son?”
“Like you did Jeff?”
His father leaned back and his engaged look faded to nothing. “I’m a veteran. Got the scars on my skin and the memories burned into my head to show for it.”
“So does he. But his situation was different.”
“I don’t see it that way. You wear the uniform, you don’t get to choose who you take up the sword against.”
“And Miss Jessup? She makes a nice iced tea with a splash of rye, just like you like it. But you don’t socialize with their kind, so it must be a coincidence she knew that.”
“Like I said, I drove her home a few times and she made me tea as a thank-you, and I mentioned that I like it with a splash of rye.”
Jack rose. “So why don’t you go see Miss Jessup then? She and Pearl Washington came to see me, but I’m not sure they told me all they could. Find out what you can.”
“What, you mean right this minute?”
“Well, I don’t think Momma will be especially good company, do you?”
CHAPTER 18
THE JAIL’S DENSE HUMIDITY COMPRESSED Jack’s chest and made his throat swell. Somewhere nearby, a dull drumming was emanating from a fan. Jack didn’t think it was anywhere near where the prisoners were. He’d represented clients who’d had the life nearly beaten out of them while awaiting trial. When he’d asked what had happened, it was always the same story from the guards: “Fool slipped and fell in the shower.”
And Jack had nearly always answered back, “What, six damn times?”
The guard leading him now said, “Your boy’s been bellyachin’ ’bout headaches. Doc went to see him. Give him some aspirin. Still bellyachin’. But that’s what their kind does, I guess.” He laughed.
“He might have a concussion or a skull fracture.”
The guard glanced at him, supremely unconcerned. “So?”
Once inside the cell, Jack noted that they had finally taken Jerome’s clothes and issued him a pair of faded jeans and a light blue shirt that was too restricted in every place that mattered for comfort.
Jack pulled up a chair and sat down. “How’s your head? I hear you’re in pain.”
Jerome shrugged. “I be fine, I guess.”
Jack looked at the bloody bandage. “Hold on, that looks the same as last night. Didn’t the doctor clean your wound and change your dressing when he saw you?”
