Not Done Yet - 19. Turning

Turning

James pulled up to Charles’ house and put the car in park. Jim’s car was already there, and there were lights at the side of the house. Leaving the engine running, he turned to his mom. “Mom, is it OK if I stay with Jim and Casey? I don’t think I’m going to sleep much tonight, so I’d rather help them keep an eye on things here.”

“Sure. I’m going to call Carol and invite myself over to their place, so neither of us will be alone. I can bring some things over here for you on the way to her house. You still keep a travel bag packed in your closet, don’t you?”

“Sure thing, Mom. Thanks. That would be great.” He looked up as a light washed over them, then began to approach. He rolled down the window and called out, “Jim, Casey, is that you?”

Casey answered, “James, what are you doing here?”

“Reinforcements. Charles sent the key back with me.” He turned back to Jessie. “I’ll look for you in less than an hour, Mom. Thanks.” He opened up the car door and stepped out.

Jessie slid behind the wheel, and grabbed James’ arm as he was turning away. “Ten cuidado. Take care.” He smiled, patted her hand, and walked to the gate, where Casey was swinging it open. Casey waved as Jessie drove off, though it was too dark to see.

“James, dude, you didn’t have to come. Dad and I brought our sleeping bags.” Casey closed the gate again, and they began to walk toward the other flashlight.

“Charles didn’t want you to have to do that. He said he was sorry he wouldn’t be here to cook breakfast for you, but to help yourselves.”

Jim startled them both, when he said, “Thank God for small favors.” Casey roared with laughter when James jumped. Jim’s light was still several yards away, but he’d quietly stepped back through the darkness to where the boys were still approaching. “That man could burn stone soup.”

“He asked me to tell y’all to get inside and stay there, Jim. He said it may not be a good time to be friends with a black man. What did he mean by that?” They were back at the second light now, and James’ brows were drawn down thoughtfully.
Jim let out a sigh. “He may be right. Let’s take the stuff indoors.”

They gathered up their sleeping bags and other gear, and took it inside. Jim made a point of making sure the door was locked, while the boys watched, curious. When he turned around, Casey and James were both looking at him. “Come on, guys. Let’s go to the kitchen to talk.”

Jim led the way to the kitchen, where the lights had been left on, got three beers from the fridge, and set them on the table before he sat down. “I’ll buy some more beer for Charles later. I, for one, could use one.”

The boys pulled out a couple of chairs and sat down, cautiously opening the bottles in front of Jim. Jim took a good pull off his, set it down, and drummed his fingers on the table. Twice. He looked up at the boys, sipping on their beers, and sighed. “This goes no further. Charles lost his dad when he was a kid. Bastrop’s kinda backward, still, but it used to be a lot worse. The man was found hanged in the woods.”

Casey and James glanced at each other, but stayed silent. “The killer was never brought to trial. Some folks tried to help Charles’ family, but others in town shunned them. Some folks ended up leaving, things got so bad.” Jim’s voice cracked as he told the story.
Casey asked, “So he thinks this is ‘cause Sam is black?” He was clearly troubled.

Jim replied, “I think we oughtta trust his instincts ‘til we know otherwise.”

James quietly spoke, “I’ll be right back.” He walked out of the room, and came back a moment later with Charles’ shotgun and the bag of shells. “Charles told me we need to stay inside, no matter what. He also said his shotgun was in the living room by the couch. I thought he was overreacting, but maybe we should keep it close. The safety’s on, but it’s loaded.” He set the gun on the table. “Can either of you fire a shotgun?”

Casey shook his head, but Jim slowly reached out and picked up the shotgun. “This is an old piece, but it looks to be in good shape.” He checked the safety, cracked open the breach, removed and checked each shell before replacing it. “I used to dove hunt, but if you’re closer and we need a gun, don’t wait for permission, either of you. James, I already know you can shoot.”

James nodded once, while Jim put the shotgun down, but Casey was looking at the gun wide-eyed. “Jim, do you think we’re going to have that kind of trouble?”

“Son, in my experience, you don’t get bit by the thing you prepare for. So keep your light close, and stay aware of your surroundings, but don’t let your imagination run wild. It’ll be OK.” Jim rose and briefly laid a hand on Casey’s shoulder before walking over to the counter to get himself a glass of water, but Casey still looked concerned. He turned to James, but the blank face staring back at him wasn’t reassuring.

After a minute, James said, “Jim, why don’t you and Casey get your sleeping bags set up while I wash the dishes? My mom ought to be back shortly with some stuff for me for tonight. Just let me know when you hear her pull up.”

Casey and Jim finished their beers, got their gear, and settled into the den for the night. James frowned the whole time he was cleaning the kitchen. He was putting away the clean dishes when Casey called out, saying Jessie was pulling up. Jim hung back, just outside the front door with the shotgun out of sight, while the two boys went to the car.

“Ms. Batisse, thanks for letting James stay. We can use the extra help with the stock in the morning.”

“I thought you guys could use some company. James’ stuff is in the back. Let me pop the hatch.” As the hatch opened, Jessie got out and walked to the back of the car. “I brought a sleeping bag, James’ bug-out bag, and a couple of other things I thought might be useful.” She pulled out the small backpack and sleeping bag, and handed them to Casey. Reaching back in, she pulled out two long black cases.

James’ eyebrows went up when he saw those cases, but he took them both gladly. “Thanks, Mom. I-“

“Mijo, what happened to Sam is troubling. Your hands will not be empty if someone comes back, neither yours nor Casey’s.” James wrapped his arms around Jessie and kissed her on the cheek. “And you, Casey,” She said, “Take care of my son. I’ll spend the night at your house with your mother, so no one is left alone tonight.” Jessie squeezed Casey’s arm before she got back in her car and drove off.

When they were back inside the house, Casey asked, “What did your mom bring you?”

James didn’t say anything, but motioned for Casey to follow. While Jim locked up, James walked to the kitchen and set the cases on the table. Opening the first, he reached in and handed Casey his take-down bow and a full quiver. The second case held another full quiver, a long tactical knife, and his compound bow.

James reached into the case and slowly ran his fingers over the bow, before he removed the quiver and strapped it to his leg. He slid the knife into its sheath on the side of the quiver and pulled out the bow.

Casey put the take-down bow together like James had taught him and set the string. The boys each had a determined look on his face when Jim walked in on them.

Jim looked from one to the other and nodded once. “I’ll take first watch. It’s late. James, set up your sleeping bag, and you boys try to get some rest. Casey, I’ll wake you in a couple of hours to take over. James, you’re up two hours after that. OK?”

In just a few minutes, both boys were asleep. The anxiety over Sam, the beer, and the fear all took a toll. Jim found an old copy of To Kill a Mockingbird on a bookshelf and settled into a recliner. In the same room with the boys, he studied each dog-eared page in the light from the floor lamp, glancing at the guys across the room, curled into their sleeping bags. He stayed up reading until Casey relieved him, and James followed Casey before the sun rose, and at dawn, they all went outside together to tend to the livestock.

The morning was overcast when they stepped out, each armed, but taking comfort in each other’s company. The sounds of the wildlife waking up made the night before seem distant, and they started to think their fears might be overblown. They fed the chickens, letting them loose from their coop, and headed to the barn to feed the horses and goats.

The sheriff’s department had looked around the night before, but they hadn’t seen much. James was the first to the rope hanging from the big old oak, a noose tied in the end. He let out a hiss and nocked an arrow in the blink of an eye, spinning around in a full circle, eyes sharp and glittering, ready to draw. Jim looked at what had startled James, and flinched. He softly muttered, “Fuck!” and pulled out his phone and called the police. Casey set an arrow to his bowstring right away, and positioned himself at James’ back, staring in every direction at once.

Jim got off the phone and picked up the shotgun again. “We’d better take a quick look around,” he quietly stated. “Stay together and keep your eyes open.”

James took the lead, because he was a good tracker, and kept them from stepping on footprints. He found where whoever had attacked Sam came in and where they left again. There were two sets of tracks. But that was all they found on a quick search.
After they searched for a hundred yards all around and found nothing else, the boys finished tending to the animals. Jim kept watch, shotgun at the ready.

The cops came and looked around, and took down the rope. They pulled Jim aside and spoke quietly for several minutes. One, a young man who appeared to be in his early twenties, kept shaking his head, like he couldn’t believe what was happening. The other was a black man in his forties with Sargent’s stripes on his sleeves, and as they spoke, his expression set, cold and stony. When they left, Jim approached the boys and said, “The police are assigning a couple of men to watch the place. They assured me they’d get to the bottom of this, and they are treating Sam’s attack as a hate crime now. Let’s get some breakfast. We need the energy.”

Back in the kitchen, James took charge of the cooking while Casey set the table. Jim called to check on Carol, but kept quiet about the rope. He spoke to Jessie, thanked her for bringing the bows, and told her the boys were setting up targets to shoot at. His tone was light, but he was looking intently at Casey, and held up his hand for quiet when the boy seemed about to say something.

After he ended the call, Jim told them about Sam. He was conscious, and the doctor was discharging him that afternoon, a day early. He’d have to rest at home for a couple of days, but that was the worst of it. “We should all stick around here ‘til Charles and Sam get back. After that, we need to figure out how to handle things. Jessie and Carol are calling everything they can think of to spread the word.”

“Well,” said James, “I think we should expect a group of folks here by suppertime. Let’s take stock of what’s in the pantry, and start making requests.”

“Why don’t you and Case do that, James? I’m gonna call Carol again.” The boys headed inside, while Jim made the phone call. Before he hung up, a police car pulled up. The officer behind the wheel waved to Jim, but stayed in the car.

Soon enough, plans were in place. Sam, Charles, and Mary would be home late that afternoon. Carol and Jessie were cooking for a crowd. James and Casey worked getting the house ready, and finished cleaning up. Charles and Sam had left in a hurry the night before to get to the hospital and there was still blood in the living room. Luckily, the couch was covered in leather, so it cleaned up well.

Jim was on the phone making arrangements with Greg, Mary’s dad. He was bringing drinks, and had contacted Charles’ nearest neighbors, as well as some of the other folks from their church, who would also be bringing food. Casey tried to call everyone on the baseball team, but only a few said they’d come. Some didn’t answer, but he left messages.

James took off by himself when nobody was looking, and began to scout the whole area around the house carefully. There had been a lot of feet disturbing the ground since Sam was hurt, but he persisted, sweeping in larger and larger arcs, hoping to find something useful. He got back to the house in time for lunch, but didn’t say anything about it as they ate a quiet meal together.

After lunch, James went to the barn to make a phone call. He was slowly pacing by the horse stalls. He’d left his bow inside the house, since the police car was parked out front, but the quiver with the long knife was still strapped to his leg. “No sir, he’s gonna be OK, but we found a rope hanging from a tree out here this morning, and we’re afraid for Sam and Charles.”

“Yes sir, there’s a squad car stationed at the house now. Listen, the reason I called is ‘cause I found something on the property, and I want to make sure it gets into the right hands. Could you maybe swing by to talk for a few minutes? In fact, if you were to come by at about four thirty, you’d be more than welcome to join us for supper. We’re throwing Sam a welcome home party.”

“Sure, he’d be welcome, too. See ya then.”

Back in the house, Casey asked James why he was smiling, but James just said he couldn’t frown all the time.

Folks started showing up at around four. Word had gotten around, and when Sam and his dad showed up, over thirty people were there to greet them. Sam and Mary walked into the house, hand-in-hand. Sam had a bandage around his head, and he walked slowly, but he was smiling. Charles also had a wide grin. He always liked having company. Tables were set up behind the house, loaded with food and drink. By five o’clock, folks were sitting all around, plates on their knees. A few people brought Sam gifts, and everybody told him how glad they were he wasn’t hurt any worse.

Mr. Weaver showed up as promised with the District Attorney in tow, “paying his respects.” After they filled and emptied their plates, James quietly drew them aside, and they spoke for a few minutes. James pulled something in a plastic bag out of his pocket, and handed it to the D.A..

“This is why I called Mr. Weaver. I found this about fifteen yards from the barn. I recognize that cell phone case from school. Chris is pretty proud of it, and nobody else we know has a brass case engraved with Black Veil Brides.” James brushed his hair back from his face.

The District Attorney and James locked eyes, and James didn’t flinch or look down. After a moment, the D.A. said, “Thanks, James. We’ll look into this. We just caught up to the twenty first century here, and I don’t want to see this community dragged back to the worst part of the last one.” He and Mr. Weaver left soon after.

James walked slowly back to the tables where the food and people were and ran into Casey. He smiled nervously and tried to walk past, but Casey stepped in front of him and asked, “James, what are you up to?”

Under Casey’s intense stare, James admitted, “I found something over by the barn. Please, keep this between us. Please.”
“Why didn’t you just give it to the cop in the squad car?”

“Because I want things to turn out better this time for Charles, and I don’t want evidence to disappear. Because I know and trust John Weaver. And because he brought the D.A. with him. Can you think of somebody better to trust?”

Casey looked down at the ground. He started to shuffle his feet, shifting his weight from side to side. “No.” He looked back up. “No, and you may be right to do it this way. At any rate, it’s done. Let’s get back to the party. We need to figure out who’s going to stay here with Sam and Charles for a while.”

*
The question of who was going to stay with Sam and Charles turned out to be a simple one. Their neighbors volunteered, church members offered, Mary insisted (with her daddy’s permission). James and Casey said they would do it, of course, but in the end, Charles’ neighbors would be inconvenienced the least, so they worked out a schedule among themselves.

When James called the D.A. the next evening, he got the name of the investigating officer in charge of the case, and gave him a call. Sargent Connors was the black officer who had come out when they found the rope. He told James the phone still had a charge when it was turned in, and it wasn’t locked. They had a chief suspect in the case, and his cellphone.

*
Sargent Connors and his partner pulled up in front of the house. When they rang the doorbell, a young man opened the door wide, turning to yell something to another person inside. When he turned back around and saw two cops at his front door, he looked startled. His eyes were glazed and indistinct. Looking into the faces of the cops on his front porch, his mouth worked and he began to fidget badly.

*
The next day, Sargent Connors called James and told him they had arrested Chris that morning. When they paid a visit to his parents’ house, Chris answered the door, and the cops saw a glass pipe set out on the table. When the cops asked about it, Chris panicked and couldn’t keep his story straight, and they brought him in.

“The drug charges were serious enough to keep him in jail while we investigate his involvement with Sam. Turns out, the cell phone you found had a lot of contacts on it, and we’re talking to a number of his friends now.” Sargent Connors chuckled. “His daddy came down to bail him out, and I had the pleasure to talk to the man. Turns out he doesn’t like African Americans one bit, and doesn’t mind who knows. He said something about doing for the young son what had been done to his grandfather, so we held him for questioning to find out what he knew about Sam’s attack. He kept referring to Sam’s granddad, and he mentioned a few things about that killing that had never been made public. The more we questioned him, the more we found out about that cold case. We ended up charging him with the murder.”

*

Two days later, the Sargent called James again. Chris’ caption to Craig’s phone number led the cops to a meth operation covering the whole county. Police took Sara down to the station after Chris brought her name up, as well, and kept her there for over two hours.
Of course, James had already heard that part from Casey. When the police finally released her, the first thing she did was call Casey and tell him they were finished, that he cared more for his “little friend” than he ever had for “his own kind.”

*
Casey leaned back on his elbows. He looked over at Sam and Mary. Mary was sitting on the floor with her back to the wall and Sam’s head in her lap. Sam had just told them he was quitting the team.

“I can’t blame you, Sam.” Casey rolled to his side, propped on his elbow. “To tell you the truth, I was ashamed to find out about Chris and his buddies, and disappointed that nobody else on the team came to see you while you were recovering. That’s not how a team’s supposed to act. And I don’t think I can support them anymore, either, after this. When are you telling the coach?”

“I’m gonna make the call on Monday. I don’t even want to do it in person.”

“Harsh, but not unfair, considering. I’ll be right behind you, but I’ll talk to him in person on Tuesday. I need to spend more time on classwork, anyhow.” Casey’s phone rang. “I’ve gotta take this. It’s Karen. Excuse me.” He rolled to his feet and strode out of the room as he answered the call. “Hey Karen…”

Sam and Mary stayed where they were, Mary slowly stroking Sam’s hair. “Mary, are you sure you don’t want to find another guy? I seem to cause a lot of trouble just by being who I am.”

“Nah, Sam. I don’t think of you as trouble. I prefer to think of you as influential.”

Casey walked back in with a strange look on his face. Mary asked, “Hey, studly, what’s going on? Kitten got a hairball?”

Casey sat down and crossed his legs in a lotus position. He’d gotten flexible from practicing tai chi with Carol. Mary was about to say something more when Casey stated, “I guess I’d better practice to become a monk. That was Karen. It seems she wasn’t happy about being “ignored” the past few days, and wanted to let me know she had a date tonight.”

“Oh, Casey, I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“The truth. That I hoped she had a really nice time, that I care for her, but maybe not the way she wants or deserves. And it took the events of the last few days for me to realize that.”

Sam sat up, concerned. “Are you gonna be alright? I feel like it’s my fault you haven’t focused on your girlfriend.”

Casey cocked his head a little to the side and smiled slightly. “Yeh, Sam, it’s all your fault you got hurt, and Sara dumped me (before I had the chance to break up with her), and Karen wouldn’t wait. Dude, you’re a friend, and friends have priority sometimes. If Karen can’t respect that, nobody’s to blame. But now that I’ve got no girlfriend, and I’m quittin’ the team, you’re gonna be seein’ a lot more of me, you lucky dog.”