his shoulder as if he were ready to take a practice swing, was walking toward the girl. The girl was screaming, “Get up, Johnny, get up! Get up!”
Wallace was hunched over like some troll with both hands forward, wiggling his fingers. He was circling BJ and still kicking up his legs. He kept repeating in a singsong voice. “Come on, little girl. We’s got sumpin for yous. Indeeds we do!”
When BJ and Wallace got within fifteen feet of the couple, the girl, still crying in uncontrollable fear, bolted into a corn field, screaming, “Help me, help me!”
BJ pointed the bat at her and yelled, “Wallace, go get her!” Wallace ran after the girl, still bent over like some animal. Luke and BJ could hear him howl as he raced down the corn rows.
BJ bent over the boy to check if he was still alive. He was, even though blood trickled from back of his head and mixed with the Mississippi dust. BJ’s swing was not too hard. He had aimed for the top of the boy’s head, hoping just to knock him out and not kill him. The back of the boy’s clean white shirt had red specks of blood and his face was turned away from the road.
“He’s still alive,” said BJ. “Good. Better not to kill them. Law gets a mite mad if you kill them. You hurt them, they don’t do much.”
The howling in the cornfield stopped and they heard Wallace yell, “I gots her! I gots her!Come on boys. We’s gonna have some fun now!”
“Bring her here, Wallace,” yelled BJ.
They could hear the girl screaming and Wallace whooping. The sound became louder until they saw the two appear between the rows. Her lip was split where Wallace had hit her and her blouse was also ripped open where Wallace had done some preliminary work.
“Here she be, BJ, all young and tender.”
The girl was still screaming and trying to get away. BJ walked up to her, bunched his fist, and hit her square in the face. Her nose spurted blood and she fell unconscious. “There,” he said, “that’s better. Tie her in the back of the truck and let’s go.”
Wallace was still whooping and jumping. “What about this here buck, BJ? Do we kill him now?”
“No. Leave him be. Luke, give Wallace a hand.”
Luke hesitated. “I ain’t sure I want to do this, BJ.”
BJ started toward Luke, “You better do what I say if you don’t want me to knock them pimples off your face. Now, get going!”
Luke moved toward the unconscious girl and BJ aimed a kick at Luke’s backside. “Hurry up!”
Luke and Wallace put the girl in the truck bed. There was some rope in the truck bed Luke used to tie up his dogs and Wallace took it and tied the girl’s hands and feet. When she was secured, Wallace groped her and muttered, “Oh, goodness. Oh, goodness.”
“Wallace, you ride in back with the nigger. Luke, you drive. Let’s go.”
Wallace whooped. “Ya think she’s a virgin, BJ? I’m betting she is.”
“Get your hands up before I blow your head clean off!”
The voice came from behind them. They looked backed and saw three Black men, one had a cocked eight-gauge shotgun and two had small-bore rifles. The shotgun was aiming at BJ. Wallace and Luke had the small bores on them. Two women ran up and started providing care to the boy.
BJ, who still had the bat in his hand, started toward the shotgun. “You ain’t gonna shoot me black boy, now are you?”
Shotgun brought his weapon up to his shoulder. “You darn well better believe I am if you take one step closer. That girl’s my niece, and the boy’s my nephew. And you ain’t going to hurt them no more. Put down the bat, cracker. And do it now.”
BJ looked at Wallace and Luke. They were frozen under the beads of the rifles. “Do it, BJ,” said Wallace, “or they’ll kill us sure.”
“My daughter seen you,” said Shotgun. “She come and told me what you was doing. I got my two grown sons and we come running. We called the sheriff and he’s coming, too. If anybody moves before the sheriff comes, we start shooting. Now drop the bat.”
BJ dropped the bat. “You ain’t stupid enough to kill no white man, black boy,” said BJ.
“Maybe I am and maybe I ain’t. But, one thing for sure, I’m stupid enough to blow off kneecaps. Your choice, cracker.”
They heard a siren in the distance and saw a dust cloud as a patrol car raced down the dirt road. In a very short time, it pulled up and a large sheriff got out. He was White and had on a Smokey the Bear hat and mirror sunglasses. A big pistol was on his hip. A deputy, also White, got out of the passenger side holding a high powered rifle with a scope. He also had mirror sunglasses and his rifle was clearly trained on BJ. BJ couldn’t believe it. Who was the white man here?
The deputy spoke. “I got him, Luther. Uncock that blaster.”
The three Black men lowered their weapons but kept them in their hands.
The sheriff got on the radio and made sure the ambulance he’d called for was on its way. Afterward, he took his time lighting a cigarette. He inhaled deeply and finally spoke. “Well, well, well. Where you boys from?’
Luke, who during this whole process had wet himself, answered. “We’re from Biloxi, sir.”
“Shut up,” hissed BJ. “I’ll do the talking.”
“Well then,” said the sheriff, talking a drag off his cigarette, “you talk.”
“We was driving down this road, minding our own business, when we found these two along the side of the road. We was bringing them to town to help them.”
Shotgun spoke, “That’s a dang lie, sheriff. My Masie saw these crackers come along and hit Johnny in the head with that bat.”
BJ acted incensed. “You gonna believe me, or you gonna believe black boy there?”
“Well,” said the sheriff. “seeing as how you got a thirteen-year-old girl tied up in the back of your pickup, and that fool in there looking like he’s been having his way with her privates, I’m gonna believe the man I’ve known all my life.”
A woman had climbed in the bed and cradled the now conscious girl’s head in her lap. The sheriff walked over.
“Lucy, listen to me girl and tell me the truth. What happened?”
The girl had blood down the front of her from her bloody nose and began crying in relief when she saw the sheriff. Between the sobs, she said, “Me and Johnny were coming home from church. We heard a car behind us so walked on the side so we wouldn’t be in the way. When that truck passed, I heard a crack and saw Johnny fall down with his head bleeding. The truck stopped and these men got out. That one (pointing at BJ) raised that bat above his head and said, ‘Glory be. I got me a nigger.’ I tried to get Johnny up but he wouldn’t move. I knew he was hurt bad. They started coming at me so I ran. The little one in the here (pointing at Wallace) chased me down and hit me. He kept grabbing me in my private places and then dragged me back here. I was trying to get away so he (pointing again at
