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"I come from a religious family, but I had to learn the only real pacifist is a dead Quaker. I decided to make an adjustment. Do you get my meaning?" he said.
"It escapes me," Willie said.
The sergeant went outside and returned with a frightened man who had a pie-plate face, arms like bread dough, and rows of tiny yellow teeth.
Willie had seen him around New Iberia. What was his name? He was simpleminded and did janitorial work. Pinky? Yes, that was it. Pinky Strunk. What was he doing here?
Through the open door Willie could hear the general questioning him.
"You were in possession of five Spanish reals. That's a lot of money for a workingman to have clanking in his pocket," the general said.
"Ain't no law against it. Not that I know of," Pinky answered.
"Sixteen of my men were ambushed and butchered on the St. Martinville Road. I think you're one of the men who looted the bodies," the general said.
"Not me. No, suh."
From behind the red barn there was a volley of rifle fire, then a cloud of smoke drifted out into the sunlight.
"Jesus God!" Pinky said.
"How did you come by five Spanish pieces-of-eight?" the general asked.
"Is t
hat a firing squad out there, suh?"
"How did you come by the reals?"
"It's kind of private."
"Not anymore."
"Done a chore for a man. Me and two others."
"What might that be?" the general asked.
The man named Pinky blew his nose in a handkerchief.
"We was s'pposed to-" he began. But his voice faltered.
"Supposed to do what?"
"Fix an uppity nurse who don't know her place. I never stole in my life. Man who says so is a liar."
"Start over again."
"There's a Captain Atkins paid us to put the spurs to a troublesome white woman. She wasn't home so we give it to a darky instead. Three of us topped her. That's the long and the short of it. I ain't looted no dead Yankees."
"Sergeant, take this man to the provost-marshal. The paperwork will follow," the general said.
"Y'all sending me back home?" Pinky said. His eyes blinked as he waited for the general's response.
A half hour later Willie was standing once again in front of the general. Through the window he saw two Yankee soldiers escorting Pinky Strunk behind the barn, gripping him by each arm. He was arguing with them, twisting his face from one to the other.
"Sixteen of my men were butchered, their throats slit, their ring fingers cut off their hands. Don't be clever with me," the general said.
"The killers of your men are out yonder in the compound, General. Pinky Strunk isn't one of them," Willie said.
