Part 12 (1/2)

n.o.body knew where he was. It was dark outside. They called Bubber in the back yard and in the street. They sent Spareribs and some other boys out to hunt for him. It looked like Bubber had gone clear out of the neighborhood. Harry went around to a house where they thought he might be.

Her Dad walked up and down the front porch. 'I never have whipped any of my kids yet,' he kept saying. 'I never believed in it. But I'm sure going to lay it onto that kid as soon as I get my hands on him.'

Mick sat on the banisters and watched down the dark street. 'I can manage Bubber. Once he comes back I can take care of him all right.'

'You go out and hunt for him. You can find him better than anybody else.'

As soon as her Dad said that she suddenly knew where Bubber was. In the back yard there was a big oak and in the summer they had built a tree house. They had hauled a big box up in this oak, and Bubber used to love to sit up in the tree house by himself. Mick left the family and the boarders on the front porch and walked back through the alley of the dark yard.

She stood for a minute by the trunk of the tree. 'Bubber--,' she said quietly. 'It's Mick.'

He didn't answer, but she knew he was there. It was like she could smell him. She swung up on the lowest branch and climbed slowly. She was really mad with that kid and would have to teach him a lesson. When she reached the tree house she spoke to him again--and still there wasn't any answer. She climbed into the big box and felt around the edges. At last she touched him. He was scrounged up in a corner and his legs were trembling. He had been holding his breath, and when she touched him the sobs and the breath came out all at once.

'I-I didn't mean Baby to fall. She was just so little and cute--seemed to me like I just had to take a pop at her.'

Mick sat down on the floor of the tree house. 'Baby's dead,' she said. 'They got a lot of people hunting for you.'

Bubber quit crying. He was very quiet.

'You know what Dad's doing in the house?' It was like she could hear Bubber listening.

'You know Warden Lawes--you heard him over the radio.

And you know Sing Sing. Well, our Dad's writing a letter to Warden Lawes for him to be a little bit kind to you when they catch you and send you to Sing Sing.'

The words were so awful-sounding in the dark that a s.h.i.+ver came over her. She could feel Bubber trembling.

'They got little electric chairs there--just your size. And when they turn on the juice you just fry up like a piece of burnt bacon. Then you go to h.e.l.l.'

Bubber was squeezed up in the corner and there was not a sound from him. She climbed over the edge of the box to get down. 'You better stay up here because they got policemen guarding the yard. Maybe in a few days I can bring you something to eat' Mick leaned against the trunk of the oak tree. That would teach Bubber all right. She had always managed him and she knew more about that kid than anybody else. Once, about a year or two ago, he was always wanting to stop off behind bushes and pee and play with himself awhile. She had caught on to that pretty quick. She gave him a good slap every time it happened and in three days he was cured. Afterwards he never even peed normal like other kids--he held his hands behind him. She always had to nurse that Bubber and she could always manage him. In a little while she would go back up to the tree house and bring him in. After this he would never want to pick up a gun again in all his life.

There was still this dead feeling in the house. The boarders all sat on the front porch without talking or rocking in the chairs.

Her Dad and her Mama were in the front room. Her Dad drank beer out of a bottle and walked up and down the floor. Baby was going to get well all right, so this worry was not about her. And n.o.body seemed to be anxious about Bubber. It was something else.

'That Bubber!' said Etta.

'I'm shamed to go out of the house after this,' Hazel said.

Etta and Hazel went into the middle room and closed the door.

Bill was in his room at the back. She didn't want to talk with them. She stood around in the front hall and thought it over by herself.

Her Dad's footsteps stopped. 'It was deliberate,' he said. 'It's not like the kid was just fooling with the gun and it went off by accident. Everybody who saw it said he took deliberate aim.'

'I wonder when we'll hear from Mrs. Wilson,' her Mama said.

'We'll hear plenty, all right!'

'I reckon we will.'

Now that the sun was down the night was cold again like November. The people came in from the front porch and sat in the living-room--but n.o.body lighted a fire. Mick's sweater was hanging on the hat rack, so she put it on and stood with her shoulders bent over to keep warm. She thought about Bubber sitting out in the cold, dark tree house. He had really believed every word she said. But he sure deserved to worry some. He had nearly killed that Baby.

'Mick, can't you think of some place where Bubber might be?'her Dad asked.

'He's in the neighborhood, I reckon.'

Her Dad walked up and down with the empty beer bottle in his hand. He walked like a blind man and there was sweat on his face. 'The poor kid's scared to come home. If we could find him I'd feel better. I've never laid a hand on Bubber. He oughtn't be scared of me.'

She would wait until an hour and a half was gone. By that time he would be plenty sorry for what he did. She always could manage that Bubber and make him learn.

After a while there was a big excitement in the house. Her Dad telephoned again to the hospital to see how Baby was, and in a few minutes Mrs. Wilson called back. She said she wanted to have a talk with them and would come to the house.

Her Dad still walked up and down the front room like a blind man. He drank three more bottles of beer. 'The way it all happened she can sue my britches off. All she could get would be the house outside of the mortgage. But the way it happened we don't have any comeback at all.'

Suddenly Mick thought about something. Maybe they would really try Bubber in court and put him in a children's jail.

Maybe Mrs. Wilson would send him to reform school. Maybe they would really do something terrible to Bubber. She wanted to go out to the tree house right away and sit with him and tell him not to worry. Bubber was always so thin and little and smart. She would kill anybody that tried to send that kid out of the family. She wanted to kiss him and bite him because she loved him so much.

But she couldn't miss anything. Mrs. Wilson would be there in a few minutes and she had to know what was going on. Then she would run out and tell Bubber that all the things she said were lies. And he would really have learned the lesson he had coming to him.

A ten-cent taxicab drove up to the sidewalk. Everybody waited on the front porch, very quiet and scared. Mrs. Wilson got out of the taxi with Mister Brannon. She could hear her Dad grinding his teeth together in a nervous way as they came up the steps. They went into the front room and she followed along after them and stood in the doorway. Etta and Hazel and Bill and the boarders kept out of it.

'I've come to talk over all this with you,' Mrs. Wilson said.

The front room looked tacky and dirty and she saw Mister Brannon notice everything. The mashed celluloid doll and the beads and junk Ralph played with were scattered on the floor.

There was beer on her Dad's workbench, and the pillows on the bed where her Dad and Mama slept were right gray.

Mrs. Wilson kept pulling the wedding ring on and off her finger. By the side of her Mister Brannon was very calm. He sat with his legs crossed. His jaws were blue-black and he looked like a gangster in the movies. He had always had this grudge against her. He always spoke to her in this rough voice different from the way he talked to other people. Was it because he knew about the time she and Bubber swiped a pack of chewing gum off his counter? She hated him.

'It all boils down to this,' said Mrs. Wilson. 'Your kid shot my baby in the head on purpose.'

Mick stepped into the middle of the room. 'No, he didn't,' she said. 'I was right there. Bubber had been aiming that gun at me and Ralph and everything around there. He just happened to aim it at Baby and his finger slipped. I was right there.'

Mister Brannon rubbed his nose and looked at her in a sad way. She sure did hate him.

'I know how you all feel--so I want to come to the point right now.'

Mick's Mama rattled a bunch of keys and her Dad sat very still with his big hands hanging over his knees.

'Bubber didn't have it in his mind beforehand,' Mick said. 'He just--' Mrs. Wilson jabbed the ring on and oft her finger. Wait a minute. I know how everything is. I could bring it to court and sue for every cent you own.'

Her Dad didn't have any expression on his face. 'I tell you one thing,' he said. 'We don't have much to sue for. All we got is--'

'Just listen to me,' said Mrs. Wilson. 'I haven't come here with any lawyer to sue you. Bartholomew--Mister Brannon--and I talked it over when we came and we just about agree on the main points. In the first place, I want to do the fair, honest thing--and in the second place, I don't want Baby's name mixed up in no common lawsuit at her age.'

There was not a sound and everybody in the room sat stiff in their chairs. Only Mister Brannon halfway smiled at Mick, but she squinted her eyes back at him in a tough way.