cwilleford.cockfighter-第19部分

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　　There　was　an　oleander　bush　on　the　left　side　of　the　porch。　I　tossed　the　guitar　case　into　the　bush。　Now　I　could　keep　the　fifty…dollar　bill　in　good　conscience。　The　guitar　had　been　worth　at　least　thirty　dollars；　and　the　fee　for　the　private　concert　was　twenty　dollars。　We　were　even。　The　message　was　obscure；　perhaps；　but　Bernice　would　be　able　to　puzzle　it　out　eventually。
　　I　walked　down　the　gravel　driveway　to　the　street；　and　noticed　the　number　of　the　house　on　a　stone　marker　at　the　bottom　of　the　drive。　111。　I　grinned。　I　would　always　remember　Bernice's　number。
　　Carrying　my　wet　underwear；　I　had　to　wander　around　in　the　strange　neighborhood　for　almost　five　blocks　before　I　could　find　a　bus　stop　and　catch　a　bus　back　to　downtown　Jacksonville。
　　
　　
　　
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　　All　day　long　I　stayed　in　my　room。　Ideas　and　plans　circulated　inside　my　head；　but　none　of　them　were　worthwhile。　One　dismal　thought　kept　oozing　to　the　top；　and　finally　it　lodged　there。
　　I　had　been　cheated　out　of　my　inheritance。
　　This　wasn't　a　new　thought　by　any　means。　I　had　thought　about　it　often　in　the　five　years　since　Daddy　died；　but　I　had　never　considered　seriously　doing　anything　about　it　before。　The　telegram　informing　me　of　Daddy's　death　had　reached　me　one　day　too　late　to　allow　me　to　attend　the　funeral。　I　had　immediately　wired　Randall　and　given　him　the　circumstances。　Two　weeks　later　I　had　received　a　letter　from　Judge　Brantley　Powell；　the　old　lawyer　who　handled　the　estate；　together　with　a　check　for　one　dollar。　He　had　also　included　a　carbon　copy　of　Daddy's　will。　Randall；　my　younger　brother；　had　inherited　the　four…hundred…acre　farm；　seven　hundred　dollars　in　bonds；　and　the　bank　account　of　two　hundred　and　seventy　dollars。　The　check　for　one　dollar　was　my　part　of　the　inheritance。
　　With　plenty　of　money　in　my　pockets　at　the　time；　I　had　dismissed　the　wifi　from　my　mind。　After　all；　Randall　had　stayed　home；　and　I　had　not。　He　had　gone　to　college；　earned　a　degree　in　law　and　passed　the　Georgia　bar　exams；　returning　home　ostensibly　to　practice。　I　had　attended　Valdosta　State　College　for　one　year　only　and　had　quit　to　go　to　the　Southwestern　Cocking　Tourney　in　Oklahoma　City。　I　had　never　returned　to　college　and　Daddy　had　never　gotten　over　it。　He　had　always　wanted　to　keep　both　of　us　under　his　thumb；　but　no　man　can　tell　me　what　to　do　with　my　life。
　　What　had　happened　to　the　lives　we　lived？
　　I　had　gone　on　to　make　a　name　for　myself　in　cockfighting。
　　Sure；　I　was　broke　now；　but　I　had　firmly　established　myself　in　one　of　the　toughest　sports　in　the　world。　And　what　did　Randall　have　to　show　for　his　fine　education？　What　had　he　done　with　his　inheritance？
　　When　he　was　accepted　for　the　bar　he　went　to　work　as　a　law　clerk　for　Judge　Brantley　Powell。　Six　months　later；　claiming　that　he　was　doing　most　of　the　work　anyway；　he　asked　for　a　full　partnership　in　the　firm。　When　the　judge　turned　him　down；　he　had　quit；　and　he　hadn't　done　much　of　anything　since。　He　hadn't　even　hung　out　his　own　shingle。　All　day　long　he　sat　in　the　big　dining　room　at　home；　looking　for　obscure　contradictions　in　his　law　books；　occasionally　having　an　article　published　on　some　intricate　point　of　law　in　some　legal　quarterly　nobody　had　ever　heard　of　before。　To　get　by；　he　sold　off　small　sections　of　the　farm　to　Wright　Gaylord；　my　fiancée's　brother。　He　had　also　married　Frances　Shelby；　a　dentist's　daughter　from　Macon。　I　suppose　she　had　had　some　dowry　money　and　a　few　dollars　from　her　father　once　in　a　while；　but　Randall's　total　ine　from　tobacco；　pecans　and　land　sales　was　probably　less　than　three　thousand　dollars　a　year。　He　was　also　writing　a　book…or　so　Frances　said。
　　By　all　rights；　Daddy　should　have　left　the　farm　to　me。　There　were　no　two　ways　about　it。　I　was　the　oldest　son；　and　there　wasn't　a　jury　in　Georgia　that　wouldn't　award　the　farm　to　me　if　I　contested　the　will。　They　read　the　Bible　in　Georgia；　and　in　the　Holy　Bible　the　eldest　son　always　inherits　the　property。
　　By　four　that　afternoon　I　had　made　up　my　mind。　I　would　go　home　and　press　Randall　for　the　three　hundred　dollars　he　owed　me。　If　he　paid　me；　I'd　forget　about　the　farm　and　never　consider　taking　it　away　from　him　again。　If　he　didn't；　I'd　see　Judge　Powell　and　do　something　about　it。　I　needed　money；　and　if　I　didn't　get　some　soon　I'd　miss　out　on　the　cockfighting　season。
　　I　checked　my　bag　and　gaff　case　at　the　desk；　wrote　a　message　for　the　desk　clerk　to　hold　any　mail　that　came　for　me；　paid　my　bill；　and　headed　for　the　bus　station。　I　only　planned　to　stay　overnight　at　home；　so　my　shaving　kit　was　enough　baggage。　If　my　black　shirt　got　too　dirty；　I　could　have　my　sister…in…law　wash　and　iron　it　for　me。
　　The　bus　pulled　out　at　4：45。　There　was　a　one…hour　layover　in　Lake　City　to　change　buses；　and　I　arrived　in　Mansfield；　Georgia；　at　3：30　a。m。　The　farm　was　six　miles　out　of　town　on　the　state　highway。　I　could　either　wait　for　the　rural　route　postman　and　ride　out　with　him　or　I　could　walk。　After　being　cramped　up　in　the　bus　for　such　a　long　time；　I　decided　to　stretch　my　legs。
　　I　enjoyed　the　walk　to　the　farm。　When　I　had　attended　school　in　town　the　county　had　been　too　poor　to　afford　a　school　bus。　I　had　walked　both　ways；　winter　and　summer；　over　a　deeply…rutted　red　dirt　road；　muddy　when　it　rained；　and　dusty　when　it　hadn't　rained。　The　road　was　paved　now；　and　had　been　since　right　after　the　Korean　war。　Soldiers　from　Fort　Benning　had　used　a　lot　of　the　county　as　a　maneuver　area。　When　the　war　was　over　the　county　had　sued　the　United　States　Army　for　enough　money　to　blacktop　most　of　the　county　roads。
　　I　reached　the　farm　a　little　after　six。　I　passed　Charley　Smith's　house　first；　the　only　Negro　tenant　Randall　had　left；　but　I　didn't　stop　to　see　the　old　man；　even　though　a　coil　of　black　smoke　was　curling　out　of　his　chimney。　Charley　was　much　too　old　to　do　hard　farm　work　any　longer；　but　his　wife；　Aunt　Leona；　helped　Frances　around　the　house　four　or　five　days　a　week；　and　she　was　still　a　good　worker。
　　The　old　homestead　was　a　gray　clapboard　two…story　structure　set　well　back　from　the　road。　Randall　hadn't　done　anything　to　improve　the　looks　of　the　place　in　the　five　years　he　had　owned　it。　The　ten　Van　Deman　pecan　trees；　planted　between　the　house　and　the　road　some　sixty　years　before；　had　been　the　deciding　factor　when　Daddy　first　bought　the　place。　In　another　month　or　so；　Charley；　Aunt　Leona　and　Frances　would　be　under　the　trees　gathering　nuts。　If　Randall　hit　a　good　market；　he　would　realize　three　or　four　hundred　dollars　from　the　pecans　before　Christmas；　but　I　couldn't　wait　that　long　to　get　the　money　he　owed　me。
　　Old　Dusty　was　lying　on　the　long　front　gallery　near　the　front　door；　but　he　didn't　bark　or　lift　his　head　when　I　entered　the　yard　through　the　fence　gate。　He　could　neither　see　nor　hear　me。　The　old　dog　was　almost　sixteen　years　old；　blind　and　stone…deaf。　When　I　reached　the　steps；　however；　he　felt　the　vibration；　snuffled；　and　began　to　bark　feebly。　His　hind　legs　were　partially　paralyzed。　When　he　tried　to　struggle　to　his　feet；　I　patted　his　head　and　made　him　lie　down　again。　The　hair　of　his　great　head　was　white　now。　Unable　to　hear　himself；　he　would　have　continued　to　bark　indefinitely；　so　I　closed　his　mouth　with　my　hand　to　shut　him　up。　He　recognized　me；　of　course；　and　licked　my　hand；　his　huge　tail　thumping　madly　on　the　loose　floorboards　of　the　gallery。　He　had　been　a　good　hunting　dog　once；　and　despite　his　infirmities；　I　was　grateful　to　Randall　for　not　putting　him　away。　I　hadn't　expected　to　see　Old　Dusty　again。
　　Instead　of　entering　by　the　front　door；　I　took　the　brick　walk　around　the　house　to　the　back。　I　opened　the　screen　door　to　the　kitchen；　leaned　against　the　doorjamb；　and　grinned　at　the　expression　of　surprise　and　chagrin　on　my　sister…in…law's　face。
　　But　I　believe　I　was　more　shocked　than　Frances。　She　had　begun　to　put　on　weight　the　last　time　I　had　seen　her；　but　in　two　years'　time　she　had　gained　another　forty　pounds。　She　must　have　been　close　to　one　hundred　and　eighty　pounds。　Her　rotund　body　was　practically　shapeless　under　the　faded　blue　dressing　gown　she　wore　over　her　nightgown。　Frances's　face　was　still　young　and　pretty；　but　it　was　as　round　and　shiny　as　a　full　moon。　Her　short　brown　hair　was　done　up　tight　with　a　dozen　aluminum　curlers。　With　a　grimace　of　dismay；　Frances　put　a　chubby　hand　to　her　mouth。
　　〃You　would　catch　me　looking　like　this！〃　she　exclaimed。　〃Why　didn't　you　let　us　know　you　were　ing？〃
　　I　put　an　arm　about　her　thick　waist　and　kissed　her　on　the　cheek。
　　〃Well；〃　she　said　good…naturedly；　〃you　can　stop　grinning　like　an　ape　and　sit　down　at　the　table。　The　coffee'll　be　ready　in　a　minute。　I　was　just　fixing　to　start　breakfast'
　　I　sat　down　at　the　oilcloth…covered　kitchen　table。　Frances　lifted　the　lid　of　the　coffee　pot　to　look　inside；　and　clucked　her　tongue　disapprovingly。　〃You　may　have　lost　your　voice；　Frank；〃　she　scolded；　〃but　you　can　still　write！　We　haven't　heard　from　you　in　more　than　six　months。〃
　　I　spread　my　arms　apologetically。
　　〃I　guess　I'm　a　fine　one　to　talk；〃　she　said；　smiling；　〃I　never　write　myself；　but　we　do　enjoy　hearing　from　you　once　in　a　while。〃　Frances　filled　two　white　mugs　with　coffee；　put　the　sugar　and　cream　where　I　could　reach　it　easily；　and　sat　down　across　from　me。
　　〃Randy'll　be　down　pretty　soon。　He　was　up　late　last　night　working　on　an　article；　and　I　didn't　have　the　heart　to　wake　him。　He　likes　to　work　at　night；　he　says；　when　it's　quiet。　But　if　it　was　any　quieter　in　the　daytime　I　don't　know　what　I'd　do。　We　never　go　anyplace　or　do　anything　anymore；　it　seems　to　me。〃　She　sipped　her　hot　coffee　black　and　then　fanned　a　dimpled　hand　in　front　of　her　pursed　lips。　〃This　isn't　getting　your　breakfast　ready　now；　is　it？〃
　　Because　Frances　knew　how　fond　I　was　of　eating；　or　because　she　used　my　visit；　as　an　excuse；　she　prepared　a　large　and　wonderful　breakfast。　Fried　pork　chops；　fried　eggs；　grits；　with　plenty　of　good　brown　milk　gravy　to　pour　over　the　grits；　and　fresh　hot　biscuits。　I　ate　heartily；　hungry　after　walking　out　from　town；　listening　with　stolid　patience　to　the　steady　flow　of　dull　gossip　concerning　various　kinfolk　and　townspeople。　I　was　finishing　my　third　cup　of　coffee　when　I　heard　Randall　on　the　stairs。　As　he　entered　the　room；　I　got　up　to　greet　him。
　　〃Well；　well；〃　he　said　with　false　heartiness；　holding　onto　my　hand　and　grinning；　〃if　it　isn't　the　junior　birdman！