The Pecan Man(16)

“This doesn't look good, Marcus. Don't you think I should call a doctor?”

“I don’t know. I don't think so.”

“Well, I need to call somebody! Do the police know about this?”

“No! Lord, no! And they cain’t know. Oh, Miz Ora, what have I done? What have I done?” He looked at me then, as if he really expected me to answer him, but I had far too many questions of my own.

I pulled him to the sink and rinsed the dirt off his hands first, so I could see where to apply pressure. There was one deep cut below his thumb and several smaller wounds on his palm. I wrapped his hand tightly and told him to keep it that way. I was torn between the need to tend to his wounds and the desire to yank a knot in him and make him tell me what happened.

I forced his head over the sink and rinsed the dirt off with the spray nozzle. The matted mess had actually been helping to stem the flow and rinsing made the wounds bleed anew. I pressed a towel to the worst cut and pushed him toward the kitchen table. He stood, leaning on the table as I applied pressure to the wounds on his head.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No - I don't know. I don't think so."

"You have to help me, son. How did you get hurt?"

“I went to find Eddie. I wanted to know what happened to Grace.”

“Good Lord, Marcus, did he do this to you?” I couldn’t imagine it, but anything seemed possible at the moment.

“No, Ma’am. He didn’t even wanna talk to me, but I kept after him. Finally he told me somebody'd attacked her in the woods.”

“Oh, Lord.”

“I couldn’t get it straight in my head, though. I thought he had just let it happen or something and I got really mad. God, I was so mad, I didn’t know what to do.” Marcus paced as he spoke. “I think I scared him pretty bad, ‘cause he got real calm and told me to sit down, so I did.” Then, as if obeying the command a second time, Marcus sat down at the table and finished his story.

"He told me he'd heard a commotion near where he stays and then he saw a couple of boys headed out of the woods. They were laughin' at another boy who was pulling up his pants and runnin' to catch up with 'em. He figured they just stopped to make water, like boys'll do, so he just turned around to go back. Then he said..." He paused then, his voice shaking with emotion.

"He said he thought he heard a...a puppy cryin'..."

"Oh, dear Lord." I felt sick to my stomach.

"But it wasn't no puppy." Marcus tried to go on, but his entire body shook with the effort and no words came out.

I thought my heart would break right there. Blanche and I had not spoken of this. I hadn't wanted to ask. I didn't want to know.

Marcus took several ragged breaths and continued.

"He found Gracie, cryin' and tuggin' on her clothes. He said he didn't touch her, just walked her here to Mama, and Gracie told her what happened."

I remember thinking I'd never felt so tired in my life. My jaws ached and my ears burned from trying to hold back tears. We sat in silence for a few minutes, long enough to breathe again.

“Did Eddie tell you who raped Gracie?"

“He didn't want to," Marcus shook his head, “I swear, Miz Ora, I only meant to take the boy’s name to the police, but once I learned who he was, I knew why Mama lied."

“I told her not to..."

“She couldn't do it no different, Miz Ora. That's the God's truth."

The boy was still bleeding on my table. I didn't have time to debate the particulars.

“You still haven't told me who hurt you. Did you have a fight with Skipper Kornegay? Is that why you don’t want to call the police? Because I swear to you, Marcus. I’ll make sure Ralph Kornegay treats you fairly. I tried to tell your mama the same thing...”

“No’m, that’s not what I’m worried about, Miz Ora. I wish that was all it was, but it’s not.”

“Then, what is it, son?”

Marcus took a long, ragged breath and dropped his head onto the table with a wail of anguish I’d never in all my life heard. I could barely understand him through his sobs.

“I killed him, Miz Ora. Jesus help me, I killed him.”

I don't know how long I sat there, stunned into silence, before I heard myself whisper, “You killed Skipper Kornegay?”

Marcus nodded, wiping his face on his arm as he did. Then, with his head still resting on the crook of his arm, he looked up at me. His jaw quivered and he drew in a few short, hiccoughing breaths and then grew calm.

“He’s dead, Miz Ora.”



I stood then, and walked into the kitchen on weak and shaky legs. I pulled two cups from the cabinet and poured water into the teakettle. I was buying time, I think - time to consider what had to be done and in what order.

Skipper must have put up some kind of a fight to have caused the damage to Marcus’s head and face, but I knew without having seen them together that Marcus was the stronger of the two.

I had to do something. But, I had to think. I finished brewing the two cups of tea and sat them both on the table. Marcus had not moved.

“Here's you some tea.”

“I cain’t drink nothin’ right now.”

“Yes, you can and you’re going to,” I commanded. “I need for you to compose yourself and tell me everything that happened.”