jg.atimetokill-第112部分

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　Mickey　Mouse　had　been　silenced。
　They　packed　their　robes　and　belongings；　and　left　for　home。　Most　would　never　return　to　Ford　County。
　Wednesday。　For　the　first　time　in　weeks　Jake　slept　more　than　eight　hours。　He　had　fallen　asleep　on　the　couch　in　his　office；　and　he　awoke　at　five　to　the　sounds　of　the　military　preparing　for　the　worst。　He　was　rested；　but　the　nervous　throbbing　returned　with　the　thought　that　this　day　would　probably　be　the　big　day。　He　showered　and　shaved　downstairs；　and　ripped　open　a　new　pack　of　Fruit　of　the　Loom　he　had　purchased　at　the　drug　store。　He　dressed　himself　in　Stan　Atcavage's　finest　navy　all…season　suit；　which　was　an　inch　too　short　and　a　bit　loose；　but　not　a　bad　fit　under　the　circumstances。　He　thought　of　the　rubble　on　Adams　Street；　then　Carla；　and　the　knot　in　his　stomach　began　to　churn。　He　ran　for　the　newspapers。
　On　the　front　pages　of　the　Memphis；　Jackson；　and　Tu…pelo　papers　were　identical　photos　of　Carl　Lee　standing　on　the　small　porch　over　the　mob；　holding　his　daughter　and　waving　to　his　people。　There　was　nothing　about　Jake's　house。　He　was　relieved；　and　suddenly　hungry。
　Dell　hugged　him　like　a　lost　child。　She　removed　her　apron　and　sat　next　to　him　in　a　corner　booth。　As　the　regulars　arrived　and　saw　him；　they　stopped　by　and　patted　him　on　the　back。　It　was　good　to　see　him　again。　They　had　missed　him；　and　they　were　for　him。　He　looked　gaunt；　she　said；　so　he　ordered　most　of　the　menu。
　〃Say；　Jake；　are　all　those　blacks　gonna　be　back　today？〃　asked　Bert　West。
　〃Probably；〃　he　said　as　he　stabbed　a　chunk　of　pancakes。
　〃I　heard　they's　plannin'　to　bring　more　folks　this　mornin'；〃　said　Andy　Rennick。　〃Ever　nigger　radio　station　in　north　Mississippi　is　tellin'　folks　to　e　to　Clanton。〃
　Great；　thought　Jake。　He　added　Tabasco　to　his　scrambled　eggs。
　〃Can　the　jury　hear　all　that　yellin'？〃　asked　Bert。
　〃Sure　they　can；〃　Jake　answered。　〃That's　why　they're　doing　it。　They're　not　deaf。〃
　〃That's　gotta　scare　them。〃
　Jake　certainly　hoped　so。
　〃How's　the　family？〃　Dell　asked　quietly。
　〃Fine；　I　guess。　I　talked　to　Carla　every　night。〃
　〃She　scared？〃
　〃Terrified。〃
　〃What　have　they　done　to　you　lately？〃
　〃Nothing　since　Sunday　morning。〃
　〃Does　Carla　know？〃
　Jake　chewed　and　shook　his　head。
　〃I　didn't　think　so。　You　poor　thing。〃
　〃I'll　be　okay。　What's　the　talk　in　here？〃
　〃We　closed　at　lunch　yesterday。　There　were　so　many　blacks　outside；　and　we　were　afraid　of　a　riot。　We'll　watch　it　close　this　morning；　and　we　may　close　again。　Jake；　what　if　there's　a　conviction？〃
　〃It　could　get　hairy。〃
　He　stayed　for　an　hour　and　answered　their　questions。　Strangers　arrived；　and　Jake　excused　himself。
　There　was　nothing　to　do　but　wait。　He　sat　on　the　balcony；　drank　coffee；　smoked　a　cigar；　and　watched　the　guardsmen。　He　thought　of　the　clients　he　once　had；　of　a　quiet　little　Southern　law　office　with　a　secretary　and　clients　waiting　to　see　him。　Of　docket　calls　and　interviews　at　the　jail。　Of　normal　things；　like　a　family；　a　home；　and　church　on　Sunday　mornings。　He　was　not　meant　for　the　big　time。
　The　first　church　bus　arrived　at　seven…thirty　and　was　halted　by　the　soldiers。　The　doors　flew　open　and　an　endless　stream　of　blacks　with　lawn　chairs　and　food　baskets　headed　for　the　front　lawn。　For　an　hour　Jake　blew　smoke　into　the　heavy　air　and　watched　with　great　satisfaction　as　the　square　filled　beyond　capacity　with　noisy　yet　peaceful　protestors。　The　reverends　were　out　in　full　force；　directing　their　people　and　assuring　Ozzie　and　the　colonel　they　were　nonviolent　folk。　Ozzie　was　convinced。　The　colonel　was　nervous。　By　nine；　the　streets　were　crammed　with　demonstrators。　Someone　spotted　the　Greyhound。　〃Here　they　e！〃　Agee　screamed　into　the　loudspeaker。　The　mob*　pushed　to　the　corner　of　Jackson　and　Quincy；　where　the　soldiers；　troopers；　and　deputies　formed　a　mobile　barricade　around　the　bus　and　walked　it　through　the　crowd　to　the　rear　of　the　courthouse。
　Eula　Dell　Yates　cried　openly。　Clyde　Sisco　sat　next　to　the　window　and　held　her　hand。　The　others　stared　in　fear　as　the
　bus　inched　around　the　square。　A　heavily　armed　passageway　was　cleared　from　the　bus　to　the　courthouse；　and　Ozzie　came　aboard。　The　situation　was　under　control；　he　assured　them　over　the　roar。　Just　follow　him　and　walk　as　fast　as　possible。
　The　bailiff　locked　the　door　as　they　gathered　around　the　coffeepot。　Eula　Dell　sat　by　herself　in　the　corner　crying　softly　and　flinching　as　each　〃Free　Carl　Lee！'〃　boomed　from　below。
　〃I　don't　care　what　we　do；〃　she　said。　〃I　really　don't　care；　but　I　just　can't　take　any　more　of　this。　I　haven't　seen　my　family　in　eight　days；　and　now　this　madness。　I　didn't　sleep　any　last　night。〃　She　cried　louder。　〃I　think　I'm　close　to　a　nervous　breakdown。　Let's　just　get　outta　here。〃
　Clyde　handed　her　a　Kleenex　and　rubbed　her　shoulder。
　Jo　Ann　Gates　was　a　soft　guilty　who　was　ready　to　crack。　〃I　didn't　sleep　either　last　night。　I　can't　take　another　day　like　yesterday。　I　wanna　go　home　to　my　kids。〃
　Barry　Acker　stood　by　the　window　and　thought　of　the　riot　that　would　follow　a　guilty　verdict。　There　wouldn't　be　a　building　left　downtown；　including　the　courthouse。　He　doubted　if　anybody　would　protect　the　jurors　in　the　aftermath　of　a　wrong　verdict。　They　probably　wouldn't　make　it　back　to　the　bus。　Thankfully；　his　wife　and　kids　had　fled　to　safety　in　Arkansas。
　〃I　feel　like　a　hostage；〃　said　Bernice　Toole；　a　firm　guilty。　〃That　mob　would　storm　the　courthouse　in　a　split　second　if　we　convict　him。　I　feel　intimidated。〃
　Clyde　handed　her　a　box　of　Kleenexes。
　〃I　don't　care　what　we　do；〃　Eula　Dell　whined　in　desperation。　〃Let's　just　get　outta　here。　I　honestly　don't　care　if　we　convict　him　or　cut　him　loose；　let's　just　do　something。　My　nerves　can't　take　it。〃
　Wanda　Womack　stood　at　the　end　of　the　table　and　nervously　cleared　her　throat。　She　asked　for　attention。　〃I　have　a　proposal；〃　she　said　slowly；　〃that　just　might　settle　this　thing。〃
　The　crying　stopped；　and　Barry　Acker　returned　to　his　seat。　She　had　their　plete　attention。
　〃I　thought　of　something　last　night　when　I　couldn't　sleep；　and　I　want　you　to　consider　it。　It　may　be　painful。　It　may　cause　you　to　search　your　heart　and　take　a　long　look　at　your
　soul。　But　I'll　ask　you　to　do　it　anyway。　And　if　each　of　you　will　be　honest　with　yourself；　I　think　we　can　wrap　this　up　before　noon。〃
　The　only　sounds　came　from　the　street　below。
　〃Right　now　we　are　evenly　divided；　give　or　take　a　vote。　We　could　tell　Judge　Noose　that　we　are　hopelessly　deadlocked。　He　would　declare　a　mistrial；　and　we　would　go　home。　Then　in　a　few　months　this　entire　spectacle　would　be　repeated。　Mr。　Hailey　would　be　tried　again　in　this　same　courtroom；　with　the　same　judge；　but　with　a　different　jury；　a　jury　drawn　from　this　county；　a　jury　of　our　friends；　husbands；　wives；　and　parents。　The　same　kind　of　people　who　are　now　in　this　room。　That　jury　will　be　confronted　with　the　same　issues　before　us　now；　and　those　people　will　not　be　any　smarter　than　we　are。
　〃The　time　to　decide　this　case　is　now。　It　would　be　morally　wrong　to　shirk　our　responsibilities　and　pass　the　buck　to　the　next　jury。　Can　we　all　agree　on　that？〃
　They　silently　agreed。
　〃Good。　This　is　what　I　want　you　to　do。　I　want　you　to　pretend　with　me　for　a　moment。　I　want　you　to　use　your　imaginations。　I　want　you　to　close　your　eyes　and　listen　to　nothing　but　my　voice。〃
　They　obediently　closed　their　eyes。　Anything　was　worth　a　try。
　Jake　lay　on　the　couch　in　his　office　and　listened　to　Lucien　tell　stories　about　his　prestigious　father　and　grandfather；　and　their　prestigious　law　firm；　and　all　the　people　they　screwed　out　of　money　and　land。
　〃My　inheritance　was　built　by　my　promiscuous　ancestors！〃　he　yelled。　〃They　screwed　everybody　they　could！〃
　Harry　Rex　laughed　uncontrollably。　Jake　had　heard　the　stories　before；　but　they　were　always　funny；　and　different。
　〃What　about　Ethel's　retarded　son？〃　Jake　asked。
　〃Don't　talk　that　way　about　my　brother；〃　Lucien　protested。　〃He's　the　brightest　one　in　the　family。　Sure　he's　my　brother。　Dad　hired　her　when　she　was　seventeen；　and　believe　it　or　not；　she　looked　good　back　then。　Ethel　Twitry　was　the
　hottest　thing　in　Ford　County。　My　dad　couldn't　keep　his　hands　off　her。　　Sickening　to　think　about　now；　but　it's　true。〃
　〃It's　disgusting；〃　Jake　said。
　〃She　had　a　houseful　of　kids；　and　two　of　them　looked　just　like　me；　especial