The Pecan Man (9 page)

“That’s when
what,
son?”

Marcus stopped rocking and took
a deep, wrenching breath. He looked me straight in the eye and delivered his
confession.

“I stabbed him, Miz Ora. Over
and over and over, I stabbed him. I don’t even know how many times it was, but
it wadn’t no self-defense made me stab that boy like I did. It wadn’t nothin’
but pure hate and that’s the truth.”

He didn't shed another tear
after that. He just laid his head on his arms and stared up at the table. I got
up from my chair and put my arms around him, pulling him as tight to me as I
could get. I wasn’t his mama and my bony arms will never be called anything
near soft, but I did what I could do to give him comfort.

Nine

I woke Marcus
the next morning
when the coffee finished brewing. He was nearly speechless in his sorrow, but I
had
no more
time for comforting words.
After
he
forced down two cups of coffee and was awake enough to
listen carefully, I
told him the plan I concocted through my largely
sleepless night.

“
We have
to get you out of town before anyone sees you. Walter
’
s
car has enough fuel in it to get you at least three counties up the road,
so y
ou
can stop
at a gas station
without being
recognized.
”

“
I can
’
t
take Mr. Walter
’
s car, Miz Ora,
”
Marcus protested.

“
Why?
You can drive, can
’
t you?
”

“
Yes
’
m,
I can drive. It
’
s just that...
”
He looked incredibly uncomfortable, but I didn
’
t
have time to argue.

“
Spit it
out, son.
”

“
Well,
it just ain
’
t
re
ally
like you to let me take your car.
”

I stared at him hard for
a minute, my fists pressing into the thin skin over my hip bones. He made a
good point, no matter how much I
wanted
to
deny it.

“
You can
make payments."

“
But,
where
am
I gonna go?
”

“
Just
hush and listen. Then you can ask questions if you have them.
”

He nodded.

“
I have
enough cash for you to get a hotel
room
in
Atlanta for the night. When you get up tomorrow morning, go straight back to F
ort
Bragg. When anyone asks, you can tell them you got into a fight in a bar.
”

“
I don
’
t
know
…”

I lost my patience.

“
Do you
have a better idea?
”

“
No ma
’
am,
not really.
”

“
You
have options, Marcus. You can stay here and go to jail if you want to, but you
asked for my help and I
’
m trying to give it to you. Do
you want it or not?
”

He fell silent and I
finished giving him instructions.
If questions ever arose
,
our
stories would be the same:
Marcus spent Thanksgiving
night at my house, crying on my shoulder from 6:30 until midnight, and slept on
my couch. Other than being upset with his mother, nothing seemed out of the
ordinary, no visible wounds, no marks on his clothing.
He
never saw Skipper Kornegay and was nowhere near the woods where the boy was
killed.

I
persuaded
Marcus
to
write his mother a note saying he
’
d
talked to Eddie and
was too upset to face her right now, but that
he'd call her when he got back to Fort Bragg.

There were only
two
other
people who might tell the story that connected Marcus and Skipper Kornegay, but
I doubted Skipper
’
s friends would implicate
themselves in the rape of a child.

If Blanche had questions, I'd
come up with answers.
She
’
d
been through a lot in the past few months and the last thing she needed was to
watch her son go to prison for taking a child molester off the streets.
I have
consoled myself with that truth often over the years.

Marcus
took a
few more of Walter
’
s clothes and accepted the
turkey and dressing I packed for him. When he was ready, I followed him to the
garage to get the car. As he turned the ignition, he rolled down the window and
looked up at me with the one eye that wasn
’
t
swollen shut.

“
I
’
m
scared, Miz Ora.
”

“
Me,
too,
”
I said.

He nodded then and put
the car in
to
reverse.

“
Go over
that story a thousand times while you
’
re
driving, son, and don
’
t ever,
ever
change a
word of it. No matter what anyone says.
”

He nodded again and
backed down the driveway. I stood
at
the
garage door and watched
the LTD glide
slowly
down Main Street
until it was out of sight.
Then I turned and looked at the empty spot where Walter
’
s
car once sat. I
have
never felt more alone.

Looking back, I might have made
better choices if I'd taken more time to consider. I spent my entire life doing
only what I believed to be right and true. Yet, there I was, faced with the
most crucial decision I would ever make and nothing remotely resembling the
truth felt right. But, I had too much to do to stand there feeling sorry for
myself. I closed the garage door and went back into the house.

I knew Blanche would be
out of her mind with worry when Marcus didn
’
t come
home the night before, but I couldn
’
t risk
talking to her so soon after he left. I took the phone off the hook and got
busy cleaning up every trace of evidence that Marcus
was
wounded when he showed up at my back door the night before.

Evidence. I remember
using that word in my mind as I opened a new package of rubber gloves and got
the bleach from the utility room. I was destroying evidence the police might
use to solve a crime. I was taking justice into my own hands and, though I
’
ve
wrestled with doubt since, I was downright fine with it then.

I finished mopping the
kitchen floor, took the bucket of water and bleach and doused the back steps
clean.

The clothes were a
problem. They were torn and bloody and no amount of bleach or washing would
render them c
lean
. They would have to be burned.
The nights were cool enough, but I hadn
’
t taken
to using the fireplace yet this year. I washed the bloody laundry with two cups
of bleach
to cover the smell
and packed them away in
a plastic bag, planning to burn them the first chance I got.

When I finished what I
’
d
set out to do, I put on a fresh pot of coffee and headed upstairs to take a
shower. I was drying off when I heard the front door open. I had barely gotten
my robe on when I heard Blanche coming up the stairs, screaming for me at the
top of her lungs.

“
Miz
Ora!
”
She waited only a couple of seconds and hollered again,
“
Miz
Ora
!
”

“
I
’
m
coming, Blanche. Good Lord, what is the matter?
”
I was surprised at how quickly I slipped into my new role.

“
Oh, Law
’
,
Miz Ora!
”
Blanche huffed and wheezed.
“
I thought you was dead!
”

“
Well,
for heaven
’
s sake, Blanche, of course I
’
m
not dead! What in the world would make you say such a thing?
”

Blanche mopped her face
with
a
handkerchief.

“
I been
tryin
’
to get ahol
’
ta you all mornin
’
,
Miz Ora. What
’
s the matter with your telephone?
”

“
Nothin
’
s
wrong with my phone, Blanche. It
’
s off
the hook. I
’
ve been tryin
g
to catch up on the sleep I lost sittin
g
up
with your boy half the night.
”

“
Marcus?
Marcus is here? Oh, thank you
Jesus!
I been outta my mind with worry
.”

“
He
was
here, but he
’
s gone now.
”

“
Gone!
But,
h
e
didn
’
t
come home. Where
’
s he gone?
”

“
It
’
s
a long story, Blanche and I need some coffee to be able to tell it.
”

She followed me
downstairs
and
into the kitchen.

“
Smells
like bleach in here.
”

Blanche doesn
’
t
miss a trick. In all the years she
’
s been
my housekeeper, she
’
s never known me to mop. It
’
s
not one of my favorite chores.       

“
That
’
s
what I get for giving you the day off. I spilled a whole cup of coffee -
with
cream and sugar already in it. I figured I might as well mop the whole
floor so it wouldn
’
t be sticky all weekend.
”

The lie came amazingly
easy.

“
This is
my second pot of coffee today. That boy of yours can sure talk once he has a
mind to.
”

“
I don
’
t
understand, Miz Ora. Why was Marcus here last night? Why didn
’
t
he come home? He
‘
s in trouble, idn
‘
t
he?
”

“
You
should have told him the truth about Grace. He went to find Eldred Mims when he
left here, Blanche.
”

“
Oh,
Lord, no,
”
she breathed.

“
He didn
’
t
know everything when he came back, but he knew enough to be beside himself with
grief. He came back to find you, but you and the girls had just left.
”

“
Well,
why didn
’
t
he just come on home then?
”

“
Marcus
was very upset, Blanche. I wanted to calm him down first, and by the time we
got through discussing the whole thing, I thought you were both better off if
he stayed here to think things over.
”

“
Well,
you
’
d
think somebody woulda call
ed
me and tol
’
me all this. I was worried sick about that boy. He ain
’
t
never done nothin
’
like this, not comin
’
home all night.
”