The Trial of Dr. Kate (24 page)

Mrs. Johnson pulled Wally out of his chair and said, “Wally can help me with the dishes. You and Bobby go sit on the porch where it’s cooler.”

Shenandoah followed Bobby through the house. As they passed the living room, Shenandoah noticed a large photograph of a man hanging on one wall. Stopping, she asked, “Who’s that?”

“My father. He got killed six years ago when his tractor overturned. We lived on a farm then, just south of Round Rock.”

They stepped onto the front porch, and Bobby led Shenandoah to a wooden swing. The sun slipped behind the mountains, and a gentle breeze drifted in from the east. Fireflies darted about the yard like little moving neon lights. Shenandoah settled in next to Bobby. Bobby pushed the swing into motion with his foot.

“Tell me about your father,” Shenandoah said.

“Just a Parsons County farmer. His sister is Army’s mother. The farm was his whole life. He inherited it from his father. When he was killed, Momma couldn’t bear to live there, so she sold the place and moved us to town. She worked at the shirt factory until Wally came along and my wife died. Now she keeps him and takes in sewing, does alterations, and makes dresses.”

“Did you like the farm? Do you miss it?”

“I miss Poppa and the farm. I was born there. Dr. Walt brought me into this world, and Dr. Kate delivered Wally in that front bedroom,” he said, pointing to a window across the porch.

Bobby took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He sighed and asked in a soft voice, “Do you think everything is going to be all right? Will Dr. Kate get off?”

“Jake Watson seems confident. We’ll know soon.”

Bobby placed his arm around Shenandoah’s shoulders and pulled her to him. Shenandoah remained quiet for a long time, pressed against his chest. She could feel his heart beating. She let her head fall against the back of the swing, closed her eyes, and sighed. She couldn’t remember feeling more content in her whole life.

She lay next to Bobby for several minutes, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and then made a decision that she’d dreaded since the first day she’d seen him on the side of the road. “I don’t think I should see you again, Bobby, after tonight,” Shenandoah said.

Bobby sat up and pulled his arm from her shoulders. Looking into her eyes, he said in a hoarse whisper, “What are you talking about? What do you mean?”

Shenandoah moved away from him and placed her back on the arm of the swing. “When the trial’s over, I’ll go back to Memphis, and I’ll never see you again. I need to cut this off before it’s too late. It may already be too late.” Her voice trailed off.

Bobby picked up her hand and held it tightly. Shenandoah opened her eyes and held her gaze steady. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

He pulled her to him again and held her tightly. “I need you, Shenandoah,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know I need you in my life.”

She felt light in his arms, so light she feared she might fly away from him on a light breeze if he didn’t hold on to her with all his might.

O
n Tuesday morning, Shenandoah made her daily pilgrimage to see Kate. The judge had allowed her to wear her own clothing in the courtroom, and she was dressed in a blue cotton dress and black high-heeled pumps. A silver headband held her hair back, and she looked marvelous.

“You seem in good spirits this morning,” Shenandoah said.

“I’m sick and tired of the county’s drab gray. How are you, Shenandoah? Ready to see me raked over the coals?”

“I guess things will heat up today or tomorrow.”

“I don’t have much time this morning. Jake wants to go over a few things with Rebecca and me. I’ve been thinking a lot about you and Junior. I really think you should go see your uncle while you’re here. This morning might be a good time.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

She put her arm around Shenandoah’s shoulder and pulled her tight against her body. “Do it for me, please.”

“Okay. Tomorrow for sure.”

“Thanks, Shenandoah. Anything new?”

“Not really. I had supper at Bobby’s last night. He’s a good cook, which kind of surprised me. Oh, I forgot. I met Mr. Flatt’s chauffeur yesterday at lunch. Nice colored guy who’s going to be a lawyer. Told me some interesting things about his boss.”

“Such as?”

“He may be flashy, but he’s also competent. Jake’s up against a pro.”

Kate rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Great.”

“Sorry. I thought you should know.”

* * *

As the morning went on, things began to fall into place. By the time lunch recess rolled around, Thelonious and Jake had agreed on eight of the twelve jurors.

Shenandoah found Austin Davis working on the Cadillac under the same maple tree.

“You’re going to rub all the paint off. How many times a week you polish it?”

Austin looked up. “Every day. Thelonious likes to see his reflection in the hood.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem from where I stand. You think Mr. Flatt would give me an interview?”

“Not in the middle of a trial.”

“I didn’t think so. Had lunch yet?”

“I didn’t have time this morning to get anything before we left.”

“We could get sandwiches at the Esso station,” Shenandoah said.

“Suits me.”

Austin replaced the top on the can of polish and set it on the floorboard in front of the driver’s seat. Then he pushed the button on the driver’s side to raise the window.

Shenandoah said, “Do that again. I’ve never seen automatic windows.”

Austin pushed the button several times, and they watched the window travel up and down.

“I’ve been looking for the gas cap and can’t find it. Where’d they put the damn thing?” Shenandoah asked.

“It’s in that driver side tail fin,” Austin said as he walked to the back of the car. “You push on this reflector button, and the taillight pops up.”

He demonstrated this, and Shenandoah said, “So that’s what you get for five grand. Pretty neat.”

On their way to the Esso station, Austin glanced at his new friend. “Shenandoah, I got a problem.”

“What?”

He looked around and then moved closer to Shenandoah and said in a low voice, “I need a place to go to the bathroom. I could go out on the edge of town and squat, but that’s hard for a city boy. Know what I mean?”

“You got to go right now?”

“No. I just need someplace to go when the urge hits.”

“I’ve got a colored friend named Hank. After lunch we’ll look for him.”

They bought ham sandwiches, potato chips, and Cokes at the station and went back to the maple tree to eat.

“Where in Chicago are you from?” Shenandoah asked.

“East Side.”

“What’s it like?”

“Okay, but kind of run-down. First part of the century was better.”

“You like the blues? You know, like Beale Street?”

Austin wiped a drop of mustard from his upper lip. “Never been to Memphis. I’m more into jazz, New Orleans style.”

“I like that too.”

When they finished, Shenandoah put their leftovers in one of the paper sacks and took it to a trashcan in front of the station. Austin pulled out a pack of Winston cigarettes and offered one to Shenandoah.

“No, thanks. Ever think of quitting?”

“Like them too much. Can we go to your friend’s now?”

“Sure, we’ll take my car. I doubt Thelonious would want us using the Cadillac.”

“That car’s his pride and joy, but he lets me drive it some.”

They drove to the clinic and found the waiting room empty. Shenandoah rang the bell, and Jazz slid back the glass partition.

“What you want, Miss Shenandoah?”

“I need to talk to Hank. Know where he is?”

“Out back in the garden. I tell the old man not to work in that heat, but he don’t pay me no mind.” Then with a sly grin, she asked, “Who’s your friend?”

“Sorry, Jazz. This is Austin Davis from Chicago. Austin, Jazz Boldt.”

Jazz almost curtsied as she smiled and gave Austin a wink. Shenandoah thought she saw Jazz flush when Austin took her hand. Austin came across as suave, a far cry from the average colored man in Parsons County.

“Pleased to meet you, Jazz. What a cool name! Your momma give you that?”

She said, “My momma died when I was born. Old Hank, my daddy, gave it to me.”

Shenandoah asked, “What’s going on at the clinic? First time I haven’t seen the place full of patients.”

“Dr. Compton won’t be here ‘til Thursday, and we ain’t got no shots today.”

“Where’s Nurse Little?”

“Working on charts.”

“Give her my best.”

Austin winked at Jazz and said, “So long, Jazz. Nice meeting you. You here every day?”

“Sure. Come by sometime and I’ll give you a cup of coffee or something.”

Shenandoah thought,
Surely Jazz and Austin can’t have much in common. Though all young men and women have at least one thing in common.

Shenandoah said, “I think Jazz likes you, Austin. She might be a little old for you, though.”

“I’d say she’s just right.”

They found Hank with a hoe in his hands pulling weeds out by their roots. He stood in a row of shoulder-high corn, his straw hat pulled hard over his ears. Sweat trickled down both cheeks, and his shirt stuck to his back.

“You should be careful in this hot sun, Hank,” Shenandoah said.

“I be used to it by now. Just drink a heap of water.”

“Hank, this is my friend Austin Davis from Chicago. He’s got a problem.”

Hank lifted his hat off his head and swiped his brow with the back of his hand. Squinting into the midday sun, he said, “Don’t say.”

Austin reached out, shook Hank’s hand, and said, “Nice to meet you, Hank.”

“What you be doing in Round Rock all the way from Chicago?”

Shenandoah piped in. “He drives for the prosecutor from Nashville.”

Hank frowned and set his jaw. “The one be after Dr. Kate?”

“Yes, but Austin only drives for him. He’s got no part of hurting Dr. Kate.”

Hank shifted his eyes to one side and stroked his chin softly. “What’s the problem?”

“They drive up each morning from Cookeville, and Austin hasn’t got a place to go to the bathroom. I thought you could help.”

“I got an outhouse over at my place. You could use that.”

“Thanks, Hank. Could you show us? I don’t know where you live.”

Hank asked, “Got your car?”

“Yes.”

“You drive me over, I’ll show you.”

They drove to the outskirts of town where the black families lived. Hank’s house was small, well kept, and sported a new coat of white paint. The yard showed signs of the drought, but cosmos and petunias filled the long beds along the front and sides of the house. Hank led them to the backyard where they saw the outhouse.

“Help yourself. Come anytime,” Hank said.

Austin and Shenandoah got back to the courthouse a few minutes before one. Turning to Austin, Shenandoah asked, “Think you can find your way to Hank’s?”

“Sure, I’ve got a good sense of direction. Does Jazz live there?”

“No, at the clinic over the garage.”

“Just curious.”

“Want to eat together tomorrow?”

“Sure, why not?”

Just at that moment, Shenandoah heard tires squealing and looked up to see a 1946 Ford coupe skid to a stop next to where she and Austin stood. Three teenage boys jumped out of the car and sauntered over. Shenandoah thought they looked like high school football players. The biggest one leaned into Shenandoah’s face. “What’s a white woman doing talking to a nigger?” he said.

Shenandoah slipped her hand into her shoulder bag and curled the fingers of her right hand around the butt of her snub-nosed .38 pistol. Glaring at the boy, she said, “Get out of my face, asshole, and mind your own business.”

“Where you from, lady? In Round Rock whites don’t cavort with niggers.”

Shenandoah laughed. “I’m impressed. I’m surprised a lowlife like you knows a word like
cavort
. Now get back in your car and get the hell out of here.”

This time the boy laughed. “What makes you think I’d take orders from a damned woman?”

Shenandoah pulled the gun out of her purse and pushed the barrel of the pistol against the boy’s nose. “Mr. Colt and I advise you to get in your car and leave. Otherwise, Mr. Colt may get nervous and spit bullets up your scrawny ass. Now get going. All of you. And don’t ever let me see your ugly faces again.”

The boys literally ran back to the car and sped away in a whirl of burning rubber.

Austin looked at Shenandoah in disbelief. “Why do you carry a gun?”

“In my line of work I get death threats. The sheriff in Memphis gave me a permit for it. It’s good all over the state.”

Austin blew out a heavy sigh. “I’m glad you had that. These rednecks can be dangerous. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if they still lynched blacks up here.”

“I don’t think that’s a problem, but they sure would beat up a black man if they had a chance.”

Looking at her watch, Shenandoah said, “I’ve got to get back to the courthouse. I think you’ll be fine.”

Judge Grant frowned when Shenandoah walked late into the courtroom. Standing with his pince-nez perched on his nose like a sparrow on a fence, Thelonious was questioning a prospective juror. He asked rapid-fire questions from a typed sheet of paper. Jake leaned back in his chair, listening. Kate had her elbows on the table and seemed to be lost in thought. Rebecca, as usual, took notes.

Shenandoah glanced around the courtroom and saw Dorothy and Abel Sloan sitting side by side in the middle of the room. The sheriff continued to be invisible, but his deputy stood like a statue at the door, as he had the day before. Hattie Mae occupied her usual seat, Mr. Applebee most likely at her feet. Edwina Frampton, the senator’s wife, sat directly behind the prosecutor’s table. There were two men whom Shenandoah didn’t recognize sitting in her row.

Baxter Hargrove had on a gray-and-white-striped seersucker suit with his coat draped over his chair. He took notes as furiously as Rebecca and from time to time glanced at the defense table, but never at Dr. Kate.

By four o’clock, all twelve jurors and two alternates had been agreed upon. Judge Grant slammed his gavel and said, “Court will convene promptly at nine tomorrow, at which time the state will present its case. Court is adjourned.”