THE FIGHT
Ezra sat on the bottom step and watched as the old tom cat stalked his red rooster. The cat eased closer and closer; the rooster seemed oblivious. Ezra reached down and picked up a rock. He drew back and side armed it at the cat. He yelled, "Get out of here you damned cat. Leave my rooster alone." He threw another rock at the cat for good measure. The black and gray cat disappeared into the underbrush. The rooster kept on pecking shit.
Where the hell is that woman, Ezra wondered. It's getting to be about supper time and she ain't even got the stove hot yet. He fidgeted with the callous on the side of his big toe. Looks like I might starve to death, he thought.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ezra noticed a cloud of dust rising on the old dirt road. He stood up and shaded his eyes with the palm of his hand. Someone was coming this way. He watched and the cloud of red dust kept getting bigger and bigger.
A minute later, he could see a large wagon being pulled by two mules. A boy was standing in front of the seat, popping the reigns and driving the mules hard. He hollered, "Yaaaagh, Yaaaagh." They were heading this way, hell bent for leather.
Ezra hitched up his old overalls and walked barefooted out to the edge of the road. He could see the wagon plainly now. That looked like Stanley Brown's boy, he thought. The boy kept popping the reigns. As he approached Ezra, he pulled up on the reigns and yelled, "Whoa boys, Whoa." Dust flew everywhere.
When the mules stopped, Turkey Brown jumped down and ran toward Ezra. "Mr. Ezra, Mr. Ezra," he called. "You got to come quick, Mr. Ezra."
"What's going on, boy?"
"There's a big fight just up the road. Mr. Stone is wailing on Mrs. Ezra. They is fighting something awful."
"He's beating up on Mrs. Ezra?" Ezra asked.
"Yes sir. He's on top of her and she's hollering to beat the band. I think he's killing her."
Ezra ran back toward the house to get his boots. "Turn that wagon around, Turkey. I need to get down there fast."
"It's real scary, Mr. Ezra. Both of them are nekkid."
"Ezra stopped and turned around. "Nekkid, you say?"
"Yes sir, Mr. Ezra. They's both nekkid as jaybirds."
"What was Mrs. Ezra saying?"
"She was hollering for Jesus. She kept saying, "Oh Jesus, Oh Jesus, Oh Jesus. I reckon she thinks Mr. Stone is fixing to kill her."
Well, that's why I ain't got no dinner, thought Ezra. "Did they say anything else, Turk?"
"I heard Mr. Stone saying that this was all her fault. If she had not shot him that squirrel, he would have gone on about his business. I didn't see no gun or dead squirrel though."
"I want you to stay here boy. I'm gonna borry your wagon for a few minutes. I'll take care of that rotten apple."
Ezra went in the house and came back a minute later with his 12 gauge and a handful of shells. He dug around in the corner of the porch until he found a rope. "Go over to the well and get yourself some water boy. You look dry as a bone. I'll be back in a minute. If that man's done killed Mrs. Ezra, you might have to be a witness to the sheriff."
Turkey Brown went over to the well and drew a bucket of water. Ezra jumped in the wagon and raced off down the road.
A few minutes later, Ezra saw Mrs. Ezra's carriage and a sorrel horse tied to a tree by the road. He drew up short and jumped down off the wagon with his shotgun and the rope. Quietly, he eased through the bushes until he heard voices.
"That weren't a bad piece of tail, Mrs. Ezra."
"Glad you enjoyed it, Mr. Stone."
They were both standing in the edge of Persimmon Branch as naked as the day they were born. Mr. Stone got a handful of water and washed himself off. "Got to get cleaned up good, Mrs. Ezra. Bernice can smell another woman's thang a mile away."
Mrs. Ezra laughed. "Well, we don't want that, do we, Mr. Stone. I don't have to worry about that much myself. Mr. Ezra couldn't tell the whang of another man's root from a pile of chicken shit. He smells so bad I cain't hardly get within ten feet of him."
Ezra bristled. Maybe she's right, he thought. Anyway, I don't want to smell another man's root. He eased around the edge of the bushes and then stepped out into the clearing near the stream.
"Evening folks," Ezra said.
Mrs. Ezra jumped back, covered her mouth with one hand and her cooter with the other. "My word, Mr. Ezra. You should have announced yourself."
Mr. Stone's root shriveled when he heard Ezra's voice. "Mr. Ezra, it ain't what you're thinking," he said.
"How so, Mr. Stone? You standing here nekkid with my old lady in the woods talking about what you just done. And then there's the boys testimony. Turkey Brown said he done seen you two fighting nekkid here in the woods."
Ezra reached down and and picked up all of their clothes. He handed Mr. Stone's clothes to him and said, "Here. Put these on."
"What about me?" asked Mrs. Ezra.
"Don't you never mind," said Ezra.
Slowly, Mr. Stone dressed himself, whimpering all the while. Ezra picked up the rope and with some difficulty tied him to a pine tree. Mrs. Ezra was quietly sobbing. She said, "Ezra. There's no need to get all riled up about this. It was just a little bit of tail."
Ezra slapped Mrs. Ezra across the face and knocked her to the ground. She looked up in horror as he leveled the shotgun at her. Then he leaned it against a tree and stood over Mrs. Ezra. He drew back a strong hand and smacked her across the face. He hit her again and again. Minutes later, Mrs. Ezra lay dead on the ground.
Mr. Stone was crying and trying to free himself from the rope. Ezra walked over and untied him. "Now I'm gonna give you a quick head start, Mr. Stone. Let's see how fast you can get out of here."
Mr. Stone took quick advantage of the offer and started through the woods as fast as his shaking legs would carry him. Ezra leveled the shotgun and fired a single blast. Mr. Stone cried out, dropped to the ground, and then began to crawl through the leaves. He was whimpering and moaning. Ezra snagged him by the back of the shirt and dragged him back to the clearing. He laid Mr. Stone down by Mrs. Ezra's lifeless body.
"Catch up on your palavering, Mr. Stone. I'll be back in a minute."
Ezra walked out to the road, climbed up into the wagon and eased the mules and wagon down into the woods to the clearing; stopping under a tall oak tree. He jumped down off the wagon and retrieved the rope he had used to tie Mr. Stone. He laid it out and decided it was long enough. He fashioned a crude noose and then threw the rope over a stout tree limb. He tied it off to the trunk of the oak.
Mr. Stone was ashen faced and shivering. His breath came in short gasps. "What are you going to do, Ezra?"
"What does it look like, Mr. Stone? You cain't just go around tearing up a man's piece of tail like that."
"Please Ezra."
"Be quiet Mr. Stone." Ezra helped him up off the ground and led him to the wagon. He picked Mr. Stone up and threw him into the back. Then he got into the back and helped Mr. Stone to his feet. He put the noose around Stone's neck.
Snot dribbled down Mr. Stone's face as he begged Ezra for his life.
"Let's not make this an
y worse than it already is, Mr. Stone." Ezra looked up to the sky and said, "Lord, Mr. Stone here, and my wife, Mrs. Ezra done gone and committed the sin of adultery. They should not be forgiven for their sins. I would appreciate it if you would punish both of them appropriately."
Ezra raised a tree branch and slapped the closest mule across the ass. "On to the packing house, Mr. Stone. On to the packing house."
Later that evening, Mr. Ezra sat on the steps of his old house talking to the sheriff. He said, "Sheriff, the boy told me what was happening down in the woods. I went down there and sure enough the two of them were there just like the boy said. Mr. Stone had done dressed but Mrs. Ezra was still in the natural state. He had done raped and beat her to death. When I showed up, he took off a running and I shot him in the leg. I saved the county some money and went ahead and hung him right where he was. That's all there is to it."
Turkey Brown stood there and shook his head yes when the sheriff asked if the facts were correct.
Sheriff Barnwell said, "Well, Ezra. I don't guess there's any more to it than that. You done the right thing, stringing him up and all. You want me to carry Mrs. Ezra's body down to the undertaker for you?"
"Well, thank you, Sheriff. That would be the Christian thing to do. Tell Paul, I'll be down there tomorrow to bury her. I'll bring him a bushel of peas for payment if that's all right."
"I'm sure it will be, Ezra. Now you have a good night, you hear?"
Ezra sat down on the porch and watched as the sheriff and the Brown boy rode away with the two bodies in the back of the wagon. He leaned back against the porch railing and gazed at the star filled sky. Then Ezra sniffed loudly and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his big hands. He sat forward, folded his arms across his long legs and sighed.
My God! I shore am hungry, he thought.
Return to Table of Contents
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
J. R. Oneal was born in South Carolina and spent many years in the Pee Dee Region of that state. After retiring from the corporate world and venturing into the world of small business and part-time teaching, Oneal finally settled in Southwest Virginia to pursue his lifelong ambition of writing.
Oneal writes fast fiction and short stories and is currently working on a novel of life in Nineteenth Century South Carolina. He has published a book on his family history and a biography of his work life.
This is J. R. Oneal's first publication of short stories.
Return to Table of Contents
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends