Part 38 (1/2)
”Yes, suh.” Doanie started to leave.
”And, Doanie, send one of your boys to tell Bett to come. She can cook today for Pa and Ma. Me and Miss Nannie may not get back before night, so tell Bett for her and Hollis to milk and feed the livestock.”
”Yes, suh. I tell her.”
Mama was rus.h.i.+ng around, gathering up my clothes. She seemed in the biggest kind of hurry, but she whispered that I ought to look out the side window to see the icicles.
I was still watching the icicles when Doanie flew out the yard gate, running as fast as she could go. One corner of her white head rag came untied before she got as far as the well, but she didn't stop to fasten it back in place. To keep it from flapping in her eyes, she jerked it off her head as she disappeared around the side of the garden.
”Jodie, what happened?”
”I don't know yet. Wes phoned me. He'd just heard it. Said Ward was shot-stayed out in all the freezing drizzle last night.
His shotgun was lying on the ground by the barn fence, and Ned told Wes it looked like maybe Ward was trying to crawl under the barbed wire when his gun went off.”
I wanted to tell Papa that Mister Ward wasn't even close to a barn or a fence when me and Shoogie saw the blood leaking out of his neck. But Shoogie had made me promise not to let Mister Ward's name roll out of my mouth! So, I just looked back at the icicles.
Mama sat down on the edge of my bed and started pulling my nightgown up over my head. But I could tell she wanted to talk to Papa, not me.
”Who found Ward?”
”Wes didn't say. 'Course Wes didn't know anything for sure. I tried to phone you, but never could get you.”
”I reckon I was still down at the cowpen.”
”He asked me to call into town to get the county coroner right away. I don't know why he didn't do it himself-he's the new Justice of the Peace. But I didn't argue with him. I phoned in and explained to the coroner everything Wes had told me.”
”I can tell you how come Wes wanted you to put in the call!
He's too tight to spend a dime on toll charges, that's why!
Bandershanks, you be unbraiding your hair, and I'll help you with your stockings. What time you reckon the coroner will come, Jodie?”
”He's not coming. First he said that he'd get right on down here; then he asked me how far the old Crawford place is from town. When I told him it's around twenty-three or twenty-four miles, he said in that case Wes could just hold the inquest himself.”
”Wes?”
”Yeah, he said that, according to the state law, if a coroner lives more'n twenty miles from the place where a dead body is found, the nearest Justice of the Peace can make the inquisition, as they call it.”
”Will Wes know what to do?”
”That's what I wondered myself, but 'course I didn't say so to the coroner. No need to tell him we've got ourselves a J.P.
who can't read or write. I just said Wes had never held an inquest and asked if there was any special instructions I ought'a pa.s.s on. He said to tell Wes to get himself at least twelve men and swear them in as jurors-have them take the oath.
”Then, he insisted that I hold the line while he got down his law book and read the oath to me. He had me copy it down, word for word, in case Wes needed it.
”But, Nannie, right after the old fellow had rambled through another five or ten pages of his state books, he said that if it was plain that Ward's gun went off accidentally while he was trying to climb a fence, why, we won't have to hold no inquest.”
”I thought you always had to have an inquest.”
”No, apparently not. He said that a county coroner is not obliged to call a inquest if there's no suspicion of foul play.”