Twenty-two
Just after Harley Odell left my house, Eddie went to his room "for a rest" he said. He came back out fifteen minutes later and announced that he had made a decision he thought I ought to hear. We walked into the back yard for privacy.
“I'd like to talk to my lawyer today, if I can," he began.
“I think I can arrange that," I said. “Is there any specific reason why?"
“I'm going to change my plea to guilty, Miz Ora," he said, as if it were the most rational thing he'd ever done.
“Eddie, I can't let you do that." I sounded more tired than emphatic, so I repeated myself. “I just can't let you do it."
“With all due respect, Miz Ora, you can't really stop me. It's the best thing to do and I know it, sho' as I'm sittin' here right now."
“Why do you say that?"
“'Cause it's true. I'm gettin' too old and tired and sick to live like I been livin'."
“But what's that got to do with going to jail?"
“It's the safest place for me. They got a bed and a toilet and three meals a day, and it won't cost me a dime."
It sounded so logical that I almost agreed on the spot. It might not seem possible, but my conscience was wreaking havoc on my heart. Even I had to admit his confession was just too convenient for me. I was willing to risk a trial and hope for acquittal, any small chance that I might not have to admit what I had done for Marcus. I swear though, by all that's holy, if a jury had found him guilty, I'd have owned up to it. I'd have come forward and taken my punishment, whatever it would be.
But I could not let him plead guilty.
“Eddie," I said, and my voice broke. I reached over and laid my hand on his painfully thin knee. “Eddie," I tried again.
“I done made up my mind, Miz Ora, and I really don't want you to change it for me."
“I can't do it, Eddie. You'll die in there."
“Better'n dyin' in the woods, ain't it?"
“I don't know how to answer that question. I just know I can't let you pay a debt you don't owe."
“I reckon I'm the bes' judge of that. Sometimes the debt you pay ain't exactly the one you owe, but it works out jus' the same anyway. Lord knows I done caused my share of heartache in this life."
“Haven't we all?"
“Miz Ora, I jus' want you to sit there and think about it hard now. Let's say you did tell the truth 'bout what you know. What good that go’n do?"
I pulled my cardigan tight around my shoulders and stared at the empty garage in front of me.
“The truth won't bring neither of those boys back to they mama's. Won't bring Grace no comfort. Won't do nothin' for Blanche but cause her more heartache. You know this town won't believe nothin' they hear. They'll believe exactly what they wants to believe. Whites'll take one side and blacks'll take the other, and never the twain shall meet."
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but my neck burned with the effort and tears spilled down my face.
“This is just such a mess. How did I make such a mess, Eddie?"
“I don't reckon it was your doin', Miz Ora. You did what you thought was best. Things was just against us all along. But, now that you mention it, you could be in a heap of trouble for not saying nothin' about Marcus."
“You let me worry about that. I won't have you taking the rap for me, Eddie."
“Ain't tryin' to. I'm jus' tryin' to do the right thing."
“Don't do anything yet. Let me think about it awhile, could you?"
“There's just one more thing I gotta say 'bout this."
I looked up at him and he swallowed hard and continued, “I been tryin' half my life to stop drinkin', but I come to think it just ain't no use. I don't want to go to my grave bein' a slave to the bottle. I just want to talk to Mr. Thatcher and see can he make me a bargain or somethin'."
“A plea bargain?"
“Yeah, that's it. I don't wanna fry in no 'lectric chair. I jus' wanna live in peace, that's all. Think they'll let me do that?"
I couldn't answer. I turned to go back into the house and, as I lifted my head to look where I was going, I thought I saw a flash of white going from the back porch into the kitchen. I left Eddie sitting in the back yard and went to my room, and I didn't come out until time for supper.
The next day, I called Jeffery Thatcher and asked him to meet with Eddie at my house. We settled on a time that afternoon and I concentrated on getting the house ready to receive a guest. Eddie put on a nice suit from Walter's closet. It hung a little loose and the shoes were a size too large, but Eddie shined them up with the little shoeshine kit from Walter's room. He looked downright handsome, if a little stiff, sitting on the edge of my couch.
Mr. Thatcher arrived on time and I left them alone to work out whatever deal they could. I knew, sure as I was living and breathing, that I would say something to mess things up or give my secret away.
I took a walk to calm my nerves. I passed J.C. Penney's and Ezell's Department store. I stopped at the window of Geiger's Dress Shop and watched Gladys Humphrey pick out a new dress for her daughter's upcoming wedding. I poked my head in at Dick Thomas's jewelry store and said hello to Dick and Ellie and their sales clerk, Patty. I went into the Woolworth store and ordered a cherry coke to go. When I finally made it home, Jeffrey's car was gone and Eddie and Blanche were sitting on the front porch, bundled against the chilly winter air.
“Well?" I asked.
“He says he go’n talk to the prosecutor and let me know tomorrow. I reckon he’s worried about the Kornegay family puttin' up a fuss."
I nodded once and went inside. I'd sworn off my meddling that very morning and here it was, not even dinnertime, and I was picking up the phone again. I called Ralph Kornegay and arranged to meet him in the church parking lot the next day.