The Ridge: The Whisper of the Leaves - Chap. 26

Sunday, March 14

It was almost 5:00 pm when Homer Lampkin saw one of the town’s two fugitives. Lampkin was driving down highway #1 just south of Wynne when Gerald Borden burst out of the trees on his left, the Ridge side of the highway. Or at least he thought it was the Borden boy.

Whoever it was, was absolutely filthy. He had what looked like various types of dried mud all over him. His hair was going in every direction and was also caked with mud. As Lampkin got closer, he saw cuts on his arms and face. And he looked exhausted.

“Borden?” Lampkin called out to him through the open car window once he had pulled over.

Gerald heard his name called then looked toward Lampkin and jerked to a halt. When he saw the police car, he turned and half lumbered, half staggered back toward the trees.

“Borden!” Lampkin yelled again and jumped out of his car.

Gerald looked back and tried to move faster, but his arms and legs wouldn’t work with him. He heard his name called out twice more, closer each time, so he just stopped halfway back to the woods.

“Boy,” Lampkin was panting, out of breath. “We been lookin’g for yo.......”

Lampking put his arm over his nose as he said, “Good gosh a mighty, boy, have you been wallerin in a hog pen?”

Lampkin pulled his handkerchief out and put it over his mouth and nose.

“You know we got an all-points bulletin out on you?” Lampkin said through the handkerchief.

Gerald just hung his head.

“Where have you been?”

Silence.

“I said where ya been, boy?”

Silence.

“Fine,” Lampkin said, grabbed Gerald’s arm and whirled him around. He pulled handcuffs out of his back pocket and clamped them on. “Com’on, you’re goin’ to jail till you can tell me some things.”

They got to the car and Gerald started walking toward the door, but Lampkin pulled him around to the back.

“Here,” Lampkin said. “You ani’t ridein’ in my car smellin’ like that.”

He opened the trunk and motioned to Gerald, “Get in there.”

Gerald stared at the Chief for a moment, then, resigned to his fate, put his leg over the bumper, into the trunk space and rolled in.

“We’ll be there in a couple of minutes or so,” Lampkin said then closed the lid.

Once at the station, he opened the trunk and Gerald rolled out. He almost fell as he did, but managed to keep his feet and Lampkin took him in through back door.

Because of a new state law, the jail had indoor plumbing facilities as of a year before. So Lampkin took Gerald and placed him in front of a sink and simply said, “Wash.”

He left the youth there and began rummaging in a bin on the other side of the room until he found a white shirt and gray, striped “prison” pants. He threw the clothes on the floor next to Gerald, who was beginning to look a little more like himself.

“Strip them things off,” Lampkin said. “Put these clothes here on, I’m taken those clothes out to the burn barrel.”

Gerald started to unbutton his pants, but found it difficult with the hand cuffs, so Lampkin uncuffed him and stepped back a little way to keep an eye on him. After thoroughly washing and putting on the other clothes, they could hardly be called clean, Lampkin led Gerald to one of the station’s two cells.

“Go in there and sit down,” Lampkin said. “I want ya to think about what’s gonna happen to you if ya don’t start tellin’ me what ya know. I’ve had three killin’s in this town and county in the last week and I think you know somethin’ about ‘em. In fact, I think you know a lot about ‘em”

Lampkin hesitated a moment to let the words sink in.

“Now, I got some things to do for an hour or so,” He said as he locked the jail door. “I’ll be back later. And I’ll see if I can round you up some food.”

He turned to leave, then turned back.

“By the way, I got a call from the other side of the state, over at DeQueen. They spotted ya pal, Bentwood over there. Just missed catchin’ im yesterday, in fact. But we’ll find ‘im, just be a matter of time.”

With that he left his prisoner in the growing dark of the jail cell. Gerald walked over to the single, dirty, barred window and peered out. He had a clear view of the sun setting and the last rays shot through the window throwing a yellow/orange spotlight on the cell.

He thought about what he had told Cubby Lawrence about Marshall. Not only had he gotten him in the mess in the first place, but now he was just digging a deeper hole for him.

It wasn’t enough that the cops were after him, now Lawrence and that crazy daughter of his were hunting him. And it’s all because of my stupidity, Gerald thought.

The sun was gone now, and the cell was dark. For the first time, Gerald realized just how cold the cubical was. He shivered and walked over to the cot situated next to the wall and sat down, drawing the lone wool blanket around him.

Lampkin would be back before long and he knew he would grill him about everything. Gerald didn’t know what he would say exactly or how he was going to answer any of the cop’s questions, but he decided right then to do one thing if he did nothing else.

No matter what Lampkin threatened, no matter what he said, no matter what, period, he was going to keep quiet....to say no more....to simply shut up. If he could do that, maybe, just maybe, Marshall would be alright. Gerald knew his friend was smart and able to take care of himself, so he laid down to wait for Lampkin to return and begin his inquisition. He locked his fingers behind his head and gave himself a hint of a smile.

“Keep goin’, Buddy.” He said quietly. “I’m done messin’ ya up.”

At the moment Gerald was getting into the trunk of the police car, Marshall and Sergeant Parker were on their way out of Biloxi heading west. The sergeant hadn’t told Marshall what he was doing in Biloxi other than to say that he need to check in at the naval base there.

Marshall waited in the car and within an hour, they were headed back out of town. Before they could get to the city limits, though, the police stopped them for speeding. When they two officers saw Parker was a marine, though, they just took his name and told him to drive slower. Fortunately, for Marshall, they ignored him.

“Well,” Parker said. “Let’s see if we can get to Texas without anyone else stopping us.”

Marshall just nodded and the Marine noticed his silence.

“Something wrong?” Parker asked.

“Just a little home sick I guess.”

“Know the feeling,” Parker nodded. “If this thing overseas heats up like I think it will, there will be a lot of guys home sick.”

Marshall simply nodded again and looked out the passenger window.

“You want to go home?” Parker asked. “If you do I can find a bus station. You got bus fare don’t ya?”

“Yea, I got enough for that,” Marshall said thinking a moment, then shook his head. “Naw, I think I’ll keep taggin along with ya if ya don’t care.”

“Don’t care at all,” Parker smiled. “Glad for the company. But tell me about your family. We’ve been together for nearly two days now and you haven’t said a thing about them.”

“Uh, well, I grew up in Arkansas over close to Memphis like I said. I have a mother and father, three brothers and three sisters......and a brother and sister each who’ve died.”

“Sorry,” Parker said. “What happened to ‘em, if I can ask?”

“My sister died of scarlet fever and my brother was murdered.” He said the words quickly.

Parker nodded and a thick silence settled between them for a few uneasy moments, then Parker spoke again.

“I guess they got the ones who killed your brother?”

“Yea, we got ‘em.”

“In jail now?”

“No,” Marshall stared straight ahead.

“They let ‘em out, parole ‘em?”

“No!”

“They hang them?”

“No, but they’re dead.”

Parker started to ask more, but the youth’s tone made him change the subject.

“I didn’t tell you, but I need to go someplace before we get to Dallas. My fiancé lives in a little place between here and there called New London. It’s not much out of the way, maybe half a day.”

“No problem,” Marshall said. “I’m ridin’ with you.”

“She’s a teacher there in the New London school.” Parker went on. “I’m just gonna run by there before we go to Dallas.”

From that point on the conversation became much lighter and the time passed relatively quickly as Marshall talked more about himself. In exchange, Parker revealed that he was from a “steel mill” family and had two older and one younger brother with no sisters.

All the brothers and the father worked the mills and probably would the rest of their lives. Parker had decided that the mills weren’t for him, so he joined the Marines at nineteen and now had nine years under his belt.

“Depending on what happens in the next few years,” He said. “I guess I’ll make it a career. You hungry yet?”

It was a little before eight when they stopped in Picayune, Mississippi for supper, then decided to spend the night at the hotel there, as well. Like the night before, Marshall tossed and turned till around midnight then was, once again, asleep.