Justice Served

CHAPTER 1

REASON FOR URGENCY

A t an oval shaped table in a large country kitchen, Joyce Hayes was sitting shelling beans. Looking down at her hands, she realized that she had big knuckles just like her mom. She had been told ever since she could remember that she looked just like her mom, therefore, she considered herself rather attractive. Sis James Edwards, her mom, was the most beautiful black woman in town when she was young. Joyce can still remember how heads turned when they walked down the street. At that time, she did not know why.

Joyce was a health nut. She never smoked and Grand Marnier was her cocktail of choice every once in a while, at night when she was very tired. Fish and chicken was the only flesh she ate when she was in her own house. Here, she ate whatever Vonetta cooked. Raw vegetables were her snack of choice.

Across from her, was Junior Banks. No one ever called him Junior or Banks. It was always Junior Banks. He was older than Joyce by a few years, but he looked much older because of his drinking. His wife had died several years earlier, so he filled his time by drinking and sitting with Vonetta, who was always at home. He does not talk much because he knows that she does not like to talk, so his being there does not bother her. She spends most of her time in the kitchen. Even if she is not cooking or cleaning, she would sit there and watch TV while crunching on ice cubes. Junior Banks was sipping on his favorite liquor with a splash of Pepsi while holding a pan between his knees, helping Joyce shell beans. He was good about helping with anything he could. Just to keep from being alone in his house.

Vonetta, Joyce’s older sister was standing at the sink washing dishes and watching TV. She was always tired, even when she got up in the morning. The little wrinkles across her forehead very seldom went away. She did not show love in a warm, caring way, therefore, taking care of a sick person did not set well with her. She and Joyce had made an agreement that she would do everything in the house as long as Joyce would take care of their mother.

The house was moderate in décor but always clean. Cleanliness was a passion with Vonetta. She had an addictive nature and cleanliness was her latest addiction. The kitchen was painted white with blue trim. The curtains were blue lace with white flowers, with matching placemats on the table. Most of the entertaining was done in the kitchen, therefore most of the time, there were pots on the stove with food in them. So whenever someone came in and sat down to that oval table, they could rest assured that they would be offered something to eat. She never learned to drive a car, so cooking and taking care of the house had become her only job.

Suddenly, their attention was drawn to the TV by the sight of a body being pulled from the river. The reporter was making a report on a story that has been in the news for weeks. The pregnant wife of Ralph May had been killed in their car as they left a Lamaze session. He told the police that a black man had jumped into the car and killed his wife and shot him in the thigh. It was later determined that he had killed her himself.

The body of Ralph May has just been recovered from the river. It is now known, that the man arrested as a suspect in this case, is not the murderer.

Vonetta put her hand up to signal Junior Banks and Joyce to be quiet so she could hear what the reporter was saying on TV. They all stopped what they were doing to listen to the rest of the story.

The black people in the community are outraged. They are saying that Wayne Bell, the black suspect, would have been lynched by now, had this happened thirty years ago.

Junior Banks jumped up from the table shaking his finger at the TV as if it could hear him.

And they are right! They are sure enough right!

He then turned to Joyce, still pointing his finger to emphasize his point.

That is exactly what happened to your mom’s cousin, Robert James!

Vonetta slowly turned toward Junior Banks as if he had turned on a light in her head. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open as memories of that incident came back to her. Joyce just sat there looking at the TV not saying a word, while Junior Banks continued to rant:

They arrested Robert for killing that white woman that his mom worked for… What was her name? He was snapping his fingers and shaking his head trying to remember her name.

Vonetta chimed in, Matherson! Son Matherson’s wife.

Vonetta and Junior Banks stood there looking at each other with a strange look on their faces. Neither one of them said a word.

What are you talking about? Joyce asked

Junior Banks started to talk with a new tone to his voice. He picked up his glass and gulped down the last swallow in it. He picked up the half pint bottle to pour another drink in the glass but there was no more. He lowered himself to his chair as in slow motion as the full memory of that incident flooded his mind. Matherson. God! That was some mess. That woman had been cut up like a tenderized steak. She was cut in more ways than you can think of, and in places a robber would never even go. Son Matherson told the authorities that Robert James killed his wife and no more questions were asked. Robert was locked up that night, and that was the last time he saw the light of day.

Joyce could now remember the time when all the people that came to their home talked about how wrong the cops were to arrest Robert. Even at church, the Preacher talked about it from the pulpit. Joyce was thinking of how her mom’s cousin, or someone in the family, was trying to get people to give money to help pay for a lawyer for Robert, but no one could come up with any. Except the preacher and the undertaker and that wasn’t enough. She probably never would have thought of those things again in life, had that news report not come on TV. She was too young. Even though it was in the family, it was not something people wanted to remember so they never talked about it.

Vonetta said, I was not yet a teenager when Mrs. Matherson was killed and we didn’t live near where it happened, but I had sense enough to be scared. I thought that someone else might get killed because that was the first time I had seen black folks take a stand against the white folks. The blacks all knew that Robert didn’t kill that woman.

Junior Banks said, The white folks knew it too but they had to put the blame on somebody, so they picked a black man. Joyce wanted to know why Robert was the one they picked.

Maybe it was because he was close at hand. His mom was the maid in the Matherson’s household, so Robert grew up in that house, Vonetta said.

Joyce was silent for a long moment in deep thought. There has to be more to it than that.

Now speaking aloud she said,

I wonder if Mother can tell me anything about it?

Junior Banks jumped to his feet, pointing his finger, as usual, as he spoke, Yah-yah-yah! That’s a good one to ask! I know your Ma remembers all about it. That boy was kind of close to her family!

Joyce started down the hall to the room where her mom was in bed. As she passed the bathroom, she got a whiff that made her know that Junior Banks had been in there, and he had missed the toilet again. She went in, got the cleaning spray bottle from under the sink, did a quick clean up, washed her hands and went on to her mom’s room. The room was bright with natural light. The curtains were white with black and white ruffles. There were fresh cut flowers in a vase on the bedside table. The television sat on top of a chest-of-drawers.

Sis Edwards was a frail little woman about 80 years old. The frame of her body barely showed in the bed now because she had lost so much weight. Joyce walked to the bed and just stood there looking down at her mom. She did not say a word because she really didn’t want to wake her. Sis opened her eyes and turned her face toward Joyce. She always tried to bring a smile to her lips but her eyes had lost all of the light they ever had.

What is this I’m hearing about your cousin, Robert James? Joyce asked.

Looking questionably, Who?

Shaking her head, as if she was having a little trouble calling to mind what Joyce was talking about.

What are you talking about?

I’m talking about your cousin that killed that white woman. At least Junior Banks said he was in your family, Joyce continued.

The realization of what Joyce was talking about crept over Sis’ face as she spoke.

Lord! Whatever made you ask about that? I didn’t think you were old enough to even remember it!

Just then Sis started to cough. Joyce quickly rolled her over onto her side, and patted her on the

back. The coughing soon stopped, so Joyce made an adjustment with the pillow to put her in a Just then Sis started to cough. Joyce quickly rolled her over onto her side, and patted her on the more comfortable position. Sis told Joyce she was okay and tried again to tell her what she could remember about Robert James. Joyce had some vague memory about the situation of a white woman that had gotten killed but she couldn’t remember Robert at all. She asked her mom if she could tell her anything about what had happened. Of course, she tried hard to remember but just could not put things together in a way to tell Joyce.

Honey, that was so long ago until I just can’t remember all of the things that people said back then. I do remember how scared people were that they would lynch Robert. They didn’t lynch him but they might as well have. The Judge sentenced him to death by electrocution. Everybody prayed to God to help us find out what really happened, but we never did. I wish there was some way I could get that answer before I leave this earth. People need to know the truth. It won’t help Robert, but it would help me die easier to know why that man said those things about him. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-one years old when that happened. He had not been married for long either. He was in the prime of his life.

It’s okay, Mother. Don’t get yourself worked up. I thought you might know why your cousin was the one accused, Joyce said.

Robert was not a close cousin but he was loved. I don’t know how close in the family Jack James was, blood wise, but he was in our family. I remember how pretty that girl was that he married too. This was a big family in numbers but because his last name was James, it did not matter how thin the bloodline had gotten, he was still family, replied her mom.

Joyce kissed her mom on the forehead and reassured her that it was okay that she could not collect her thoughts the way she wanted to. She sat down by the bed and watched as her mom dozed off to sleep again.

Vonetta was coming into the room as Joyce was about to leave. The first words out of her mouth were,

I’m so tired.

Joyce just smiled because she has heard that so many times. Vonetta wanted to know if Mother could tell her anything.

She couldn’t remember a lot but she was about to take that unanswered question to her grave. Why? Joyce replied

Vonetta turned around and followed Joyce back into the hall so they could talk without waking Mother.

I sure wish I could give her that answer but I don’t even know where to start to find it, Joyce said.

The person you need to talk to is Aunt Naomi. I’ll bet she can tell you about everything and everybody. There is nothing wrong with her memory or her desire to talk. When I call her, I have to have a clear day because she will keep me on the phone for hours. If you are going to do something, you had better hurry. You know Mother doesn’t have a lot of time left, Vonetta said.

She noticed the tears in Joyce’s eyes, so she stopped talking. Joyce was fighting to keep the tears from falling because she did not want Vonetta to get started.

CHAPTER 2

NO TIME FOR TEARS

J oyce spent most of her time taking care of her mother. When her mother was having what she called, a good day, she would take a little time off to go fishing. Fishing was one thing she always loved to do. It would take her mind off the situation at home temporarily. There were times when she would catch a nice batch of fish too. Her mom seemed to get some light back in her eyes when Joyce showed her the fish that she had caught. She liked the way Vonetta fried them too. Joyce told her mom she was going to the lake for a while.

Down at the lake, Joyce was sitting on the ground holding a fishing rod, but her mind was not really on fishing. She could not get the conversation she had with her mom about Robert out of her mind. The moon must not have been right either, because she had not gotten any bites.

A little farther down on the banks of the lake, was another woman. The woman called out to Joyce,

Having any luck?

Joyce yells back, not a bit.

How long have you been here? the woman asked.

Joyce looked at her watch and jumped to her feet

Oh my God! Too long! Joyce answered. She scrambled to get her stuff in the car.

As Joyce drove out from the lake, the car couldn’t be seen through the dust from the tires. Lunch hour for her mother was way overdue and Vonetta was probably watching the door. She turned into the driveway so fast that the car hit the hedge bushes and a few other flowers along the edge of the driveway. The car came to a screeching stop and she was out before the motor was off.

Joyce ran into the house. Vonetta turned around suddenly when the door flung open. Joyce was full of apologies but her mouth did not seem to work right, so no one could understand what she was trying to say. Vonetta just stood there looking at her as if she had lost her mind. But it was easy to see that she was very upset. Junior Banks was in his usual place at the table. He did not say a word. The look on Vonetta’s face said enough for Joyce and Junior Banks. There was no need for her to say anything. She just turned back to the sink and continued what she was doing. Joyce looked at her, rather surprised that she didn’t go off on her, then took off running down the hall toward her mom’s room. As she passed the bathroom, she realized that her hands were dirty, so she rushed into the bathroom, washed her hands, snatched a towel from a rack and rushed out drying her hands. All of this rushing, only to find that her mother was sleeping peacefully, on her back. Looking down at her mom, Joyce could see that she looked frailer today than she did yesterday. The thought of losing her mom was so overwhelming that her eyes filled with tears and this time she could not keep them from falling. A teardrop fell on her mom’s arm.

Sis opened her eyes. Joyce did not know she was awake until she heard her voice.

Why are you crying? she whispers.

Drying her eyes and trying hard to compose herself, Joyce said,

I’m not crying. I was just thinking about how much I love you.

Her mother pointed to the teardrop on her arm and said,

Then, this must be a raindrop.

I just love you so much, Mother. It tears me up inside to see you suffer.

Sis gestured for Joyce to take her hand, forcing a smile to her lips.

I’m not suffering, Baby. I’m dying, but I’m not suffering. I have cancer and I know I won’t be here much longer. I don’t have much pain and everything else I need, you give me.

It was impossible for Joyce to hold back the tears. They rolled down her cheeks until they met under her chin.

Please don’t say you won’t be here, Mother. What will I do without you?

You will do just fine. You have always done fine. Your daddy taught you to be strong and to take care of this family if anything happened to him. You did it then and you were only a teenager when he was killed, her mom replied.

Joyce squeezed her mom’s hand to show her that she was thankful for the confidence she had in her.

I had to be a fast learner back then. But Daddy didn’t really leave me alone; he would come to me in dreams and tell me things. Did I ever tell you that?

No. You never said a thing. You just did what needed to be done. So, I’m telling you while I am still here, that I am fine and you will be fine too. Now come on. Let’s say some prayers together.

CHAPTER 3

FIRST STEP OF DISCOVERY

T his would have been a great day to go fishing. The weather was nice and Sis was having a good day, but Joyce’s interest had shifted to getting more information about Robert James. She was driving down this narrow dirt road looking around carefully so as not to miss her Aunt Naomi’s house. There were so many big, beautiful homes now where there used to be cotton fields. Joyce hoped that gigantic oak tree was still in the yard as her landmark to identify the house she was looking for. Even if Aunt Naomi had a new house, if that tree was still there, she would know she was in the right place. As the car rounded a curve, the oak tree came into view.

A beautiful brick house was nearby, but her aunt’s house was the same. Joyce turned into the driveway and drove to the back of the house. She made a u-turn and stopped. It was amazing to Joyce how little the house had changed. Nothing seemed to have even deteriorated, but nothing looked new. She got out of the car and walked