A Visit with The Judge
"Well, now, lookee here if it ain't the Nigger Lovin' Mr. Judge goin' for a midnight ride. You goin' for black or white tonight?"
Marsh was a strong man in hard condition who had learned how to fight dirty on the docks and the barges. Up to one against three, but sure as hell not one against ten.
"You want my gun?"
"Just the bullets, Mr. Judge."
Marsh handed it to him from barrel to butt.
-- I am a coward. I want to get out of this alive to live with Becky.
The leader of his captors emptied the revolver into the ground around Marsh's horse. The animal shivered but did not flinch or bolt. Marsh talked softly to it and stroked it gently.
"Good beast, Nigger Lover. Ought to take you a long ways from here. You just teach it to forget the way back."
They began by tying his upper arms to his body with the rope trapping the gun between his shoulder blades. Next they tied his truck to the saddle horn and his ankles to the stirrups. Then, as they handed him the reins, one on each side smashed his knees. Last they switched the horse in the most delicate places.
This time the animal did bolt and Marsh fainted hanging over to one side. His tormentors laughed and sat around drinking corn and throwing shells into the burning house.
The horse soon calmed itself into a walk but did not know which way to go -back to town, down the draw, or over the rise- so it wandered and stopped and wandered. That probably saved Marsh because it kept him out of sight but within reach. The first one to find him was Mr. Johnson, the father of the boy, who led them to water and then to an old woman who had been a nurse to Negroes for two (maybe three) generations.
The runners went out immediately; but by the time Dr. Paul arrived with his black bag and Henry with a new gun, she had Marsh sitting up on her bed with his knees wrapped in flannel around mud and fresh manure and sipping a time cup full of soup and corn. Frankel came next with a jar of some very good bourbon and a picture of him with his legs broken. Last and best Becky walked in and said hello with her eyes and her mouth and her hands.
The doctor in residence chased everyone but Becky out. During the council of war in the other room, Becky and Marsh accomplished what can be done under the most difficult circumstances and when the others returned they were asleep by each other's side. The Negro woman jiggled them awake and said: "Lovin' time is over, we got to move The Judge."
Becky reached up and took the other woman's arm. "Just till tomorrow night?"
Doctor Paul began to splint the knees. "No, Mrs. Langdon. I am sorry, but he has to get south to a good hospital or he won't walk again."
Henry said: "They'll be after him again when they don't find his body. He's got to go and we've got the wagon ready to meet the train goin' south."
The Negro woman said: "Give them a few minutes more."
Becky began to cry.
"You can't stay and I can't come with you. Oh, what is wrong with God!"
Marsh just wept.
As he wept now when he heard the knock on the door.
"Come in, Reverend."
Griff looked in and asked: "You want me to come back in a while?"
"No, Reverend, it's all right. Well, shit, it ain't all right but let's get on with it."
"I need your help."
"You want a drink."
Table of Contents
- Maggie and Mr. Hank
- The Reverend
- Squalls Along the Flight Line
- Flying Home to Church
- A Visit with The Judge
- Communion
- Afterthoughts
- Monday Morning With The Admiral
- Into the Dining Room
- On Toward Walking the Streets
- Glimpses of An Election
- The Dream and The Reality of Violence
- The Admiral Loses More Than a Few Good Men
- Down That Lonesome Road