Swift Justice: The Southern Way (3 page)

This meant that the Klan would still be coming after Leon because they would probably suspect that Leon killed the men. Or they would suspect that some other Negro killed the men. This was going to blow up into a real mess.

Leon thought about his options. He could take their car and drive far away to some other town. This way, he would probably be the only target, and his neighborhood might be safe from retaliation. Or he could use the car, drive home, and ditch the car somewhere. Or he could just hike his way home and ask his parents what he should do.

None of these options were good. Stealing the car provided easy transportation, but the Klan or the police would certainly catch him. The police would be looking for the car, and they would eventually catch him. No, he needed to leave the car at the scene. This was cleaner—less evidence that could be traced to him.

He only had one other option: hike to his parent’s house, but he had no idea where he was. He was pretty sure that he was still in Dodge County because Lucky and his crew would not commit a crime outside their safe haven of Dodge County. He figured he wasn’t that far away from the road because he remembered they only drove a short way when they turned into the woods. Once he got to the road, he figured he could determine his location. He knew he had to be on the north side of Dodge County, which was the white side. There was no way that Lucky would be doing this on the south side where the Negroes resided.

So he had his plan. He would head back to the road from where they came, which would be the opposite direction of where the car was currently facing. Then, he would jog back to his house and hoped that no crackers would spot him.

But first, he wanted to say goodbye to his friends. He hovered over Lucky’s dead body and spoke aloud.

“Hello, motherfucker. Now, Lucky what you doing on the ground, boy? You know, you shouldn’t be hanging out on the ground, boy.”

Leon kicked him in the side, but it actually hurt Leon more because his sides ached from being kicked himself. Nevertheless, he kept kicking Lucky hard in different places. Leon couldn’t control himself. Twenty-three years of the white man’s torture. For twenty-three years, he fantasized of killing them and torturing them. He couldn’t get enough of kicking poor little Lucky.

“You motherfucker! How does it feel now, motherfucker?”

He darted over to the other men and kicked them as well until he was out of breath. He started crying. “You motherfuckers. I hate you. Why do you got to be so mean?”

Leon sighed. He was disappointed that there was no joy in beating them because they were already dead. They felt no pain. They showed no fear. He wanted to see a cracker show fear.

~~~~

Leon made it to the road, which was only about a half of a mile away. He couldn’t tell what road it was because there weren’t any signs. Dodge County, located in upper east Texas, encompassed about one thousand square miles and was almost shaped like a perfect square. Although Dodge County had many square miles within its boundaries, most of the area was woods. In fact, the woods surrounded the entire county and served as a convenient border. There were three main roads that led into Dodge County. Each of these roads ran next to the woods. Route 12 was on the west side, FM 3041 was on the North side, and Highway 191 started in the Upper East Side and ran diagonally to the South Central area, but the town never built a road for the south border of the woods.

The population of Dodge County was almost fifty thousand people with only fifteen percent being Negroes. Railroad tracks that ran east to west served as an unwritten dividing line between the blacks and the whites. The blacks live south of the railroad tracks. The whites lived north, and all major businesses and industrial plants were located north of the tracks. The blacks had their own businesses, but they only catered to the Negros in the area. Whites would never do business in the black areas especially going to a Negro saloon.

Dodge County’s zoning was masterful and well designed. The downtown and business area were smack in the middle of the county. The white residential area surrounded the business area. Outside the white residential area, were industrial plants including a large, abandoned ammunition plant. Then, there were numerous farms that stretched up to the woods.

South of the tracks included the black residential areas and farms for the fortunate black people who could afford a farm. There were some small businesses in the black area, but no whites ever came to them. The Negroes had their own grocery store, clothing stores, some restaurants, and churches.

Leon, who took astronomy and physics in college, peered up into the sky to see if he could decipher his location. He could tell where west was by the moon’s location, which set in the west just like the sun. He calculated that the road was Route 12. He hoped that he was south of Lake Gerault, a large lake. He needed to stay in the woods and not wander off into the street. He was certainly in white man’s territory and in danger.

Using his flashlight, he started a slow jog. It was difficult with his head and sides aching. He sucked it up and kept jogging at a steady pace being careful not to trip on a branch or a rock. He continued to jog for about a mile when he approached the lake. Route 12 did not have a bridge to go over the lake. Instead, the road curved around the lake.

He was in a dilemma. The shortest way home was to follow the left side of the lake along Route 12, but that would expose him. There would be no woods to camouflage him. A black man in white man territory in the middle of the night was a dangerous proposition. He would have to go on the right side of the lake where woods encompassed the whole area. It would add miles to his route, but it would be safer. He had no choice and headed right. He could actually stay in the woods until he got to the railroad tracks, his safe haven.

He stopped and figured that he had to get rid of his stained underwear and towel. He took a stick and dug a shallow hole, put the garments into the hole, and filled it up with dirt.

He figured he was at least eight miles from the railroad tracks. He needed to get there by sunrise. He wasn’t sure if he could make it in time.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do once he got home. Once the Klan discovered the three dead white men, they would probably try to hang him again. He hoped his papa had a solution.

Sheriff Jefferson Mason was worried. He was supposed to hear from Lucky once Lucky finished the job. It was now past midnight, and the Sheriff had not heard from him. Lucky should have been done by now. Perhaps, he was having too much fun and taking his time. Nevertheless, the Sheriff needed to call Acton, the barber and the local leader of the Klan. He hated to call him at the late hour.

He dialed the number and waited for a long time until someone picked up.

“Hello,” said a tired woman’s voice.

“Audrey, can I speak to Acton?”

“Why are you calling so late?”

“Please, get Acton. It’s important; I need to talk to him.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll get him.”

The Sheriff couldn’t believe how disrespectful Acton’s wife was treating him. He was the Sheriff and a
man
. Of course, he couldn’t scold her because Acton would pounce on him.

Ironically, this little encounter with Acton’s wife made him think about his late wife, Linda. His wife died suddenly of spinal meningitis about a year before Junior served in the Korean War. One day she appeared to be fine. Then, suddenly she got sick and within five days she died. The doctors couldn’t stop the disease.

Although he wasn’t happily married, he missed his wife. He didn’t realize how much he had loved her until she was gone. But she was a passive woman—not like Acton’s bossy wife.

The Sheriff had tried to court other women since his wife’s death, but none seem to take the bait. The Sheriff realized that he probably would have to lose some weight in order to attract women. Besides, most adult women were already married in Dodge County, so it was slim pickings for him.

Minutes later, Acton came to the phone. “Hello.”

“Acton, it’s me, Jefferson.”

“This better be fuckin’ good. I was a sound asleep.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but have you heard from Lucky?”

“No, what time is it?”

“It’s past midnight. As you know, he was supposed to report to me, and he hasn’t.”

“Hey, it’s only midnight. He’s probably having some fun. You know him. He likes to drag things out. Leon’s probably screaming like a little girl, and Lucky’s loving it.”

“What should I do?”

“Just hang tight. He’ll show up. What could possibly happen?”

“Maybe Leon got away, and they’re chasing him.”

“Maybe.” Acton paused. “If that’s the case, Lucky will be calling you shortly from a phone booth. Just call me in the morning and let me know what happened. I don’t want to be woken up again. I have faith in Lucky. I’m not worried.”

The call ended.

The Sheriff had a bad feeling about the situation.

~~~~

Leon had been jogging, hiking, and walking for hours. He stubbed his right toe on a rock, and his whole body ached with all that occurred. He had no idea what time it was. Damn, he wished he took Lucky’s watch. He knew it had to be close to sunrise. He had just crossed the railroad tracks and felt a little safer now that he was in the black side of town.

He increased his jog to a sprint through the woods. He had to get home before the sun rose. Surely, the police would be looking for Lucky soon. If he wasn’t home, that would be bad for him.

Finally, he reached the end of the woods and darted across Route 12. He hoped he saw someone that could give him a ride home. He saw a car approaching from the distance. Even though he was in the black side of town, he couldn’t be sure if there was a Negro in the car because Route 12 was a main road. He dropped down to the ground in the shoulder and peered over to the car to get a better view.

Then he saw it. The light on top of the car—it was the police! Oh no, they were probably looking for him. He squatted down and buried his head into the ground in an attempt to hide himself. The squad car fortunately kept going and the police officer apparently didn’t see him.

Leon shivered. The cops were probably looking for him. His days were numbered, he thought. He was prepared to die earlier in the evening. He accepted this fate. He couldn’t go through
that
again.

Leon realized that he had to stay off Route 12. He weaved his way through the inner roads of the south side of Dodge County. He didn’t want to disturb anyone living in a farm because he didn’t know them, but he would stop another Negro driving a car. The only problem was that there wasn’t anyone on the roads at this early hour.

~~~~

Mama Brooks stayed at home and worked the phone. It was near sunrise. The whole neighborhood was searching for Leon, but they did not dare go on the white side of town. So they searched the black areas. Many of the Negroes that had vehicles drove through the area. Mama Brooks instructed them to call her frequently with updates. So far, the updates were all negative news.

Mama Brooks sat in her rocking chair and gazed up into the ceiling. Tears ran down her face. Although she hoped that Leon was alive, she feared that he was tortured and killed. She sobbed uncontrollably at the thought.

She was so proud of all her children but especially, Leon. Her and her husband worked hard to educate their children, but Leon was the most ambitious and the only one to pursue college. Mama Brooks worked at two dry cleaning stores on the white side of town. The stores also did laundry, which was Mama Brooks’s job. She also sang at a local jazz club on some evenings and earned a little money doing that as well. Negros said that she had a beautiful voice.

As a result of her hard work and having a lot of kids to feed, she didn’t eat that much and she was very skinny. But she always wore a nice, neatly-pressed dresses, even around the house.

James Brooks was also a hard worker. He was a mechanic at a service station on the black side of town, but he didn’t make as much as his wife did because Negros couldn’t afford to pay a lot for auto repairs.

Nevertheless, Mama Brooks and her husband provided a decent living for their children. But now, one of their beloved children was missing and this was tearing up Mama Brooks.

James Brooks and Fletcher walked around the neighborhood and recruited people to help in the search.

No one refused.

~~~~

It was near sunrise, and the Sheriff was in panic mode. He barely slept during the night. Lucky still had not contacted him. He was tempted to call Lucky’s house in the middle of the night but thought otherwise. Lucky and the Klan kept Lucky’s wife in the dark on his excursions. If the Sheriff called her in the middle of the night, she would be even more suspicious of Lucky’s activities.

Instead, the Sheriff called the officer on the midnight shift, Sam Clark.

Sam answered the phone, “Dodge Police.”

“Sam, this is Jefferson.”

“Hey, Sheriff, you’re calling kind of early. What’s up?”

“Have you heard about Lucky Bennett’s whereabouts tonight?”

“Well, that’s funny you should ask. His wife called me about an hour ago. Lucky hasn’t come home tonight.”

“Fuck,” said the Sheriff. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I figured you’d be sleeping. I didn’t want to bother you. I’m taking care of it, though. I got Ryan and Finley driving around looking for him.”

“Keep up the search. I’m going to get Junior’s ass up and have him search as well. I’ll be by the station in a little bit.”

“Okay, Sheriff. I’ll keep you posted.”

The Sheriff hung up the phone. Sam was a citizen of the Klan, but the Sheriff did not tell him about the planned lynching. The fewer people that knew about it, the better. He also didn’t want to ask Sam about the whereabouts of the other two guys in Lucky’s crew, John Favors and Tom Jenkins.

The Sheriff first called John Favors’s house. His wife answered on the first ring.