Billy by Albert French Read Free Book Online Page A

Jenny. He is si lent. Doctor Grey is old, seen his years, the wrinkles in his face seem to catch the shadows of the sunlight baking down on it. He had glanced at Sheriff Tom, but they had not spoke, it was a time of keeping words.
    Now the dogs bark, Sheriff Tom and Doc Grey keep still, the you nger children turn and look towards the house as the crashing sounds of glass being broken and things smashing into walls shatter the silence. The screen door flies open and Red Pasko comes storming out onto the porch, then stops at its edge, throws his hands above his head, and shakes before he screams.
    "Who did this? Who did this to my little girl, who did this?" Red Pasko's screams cannot carry his grief, and they break into cries of, "She's dead, my God, she's dead. Who did this, Tom? Ah want to know who did this to her? My God, somebody tell me who did this."
    Sheriff Tom raises his head, sighs, and walks slowly up to Red Pasko. "Red, we got some talkin to do here, but not a lot of time for it. I talked to Jenny over there. She's a11 right, she's just hurtin real bad inside, seen too much for a day. You had some niggers comin in at your pond down there. From what I can tell, they were you ng uns . . . thirteen . . . fourteen maybe. Girls here try to chase em out of there, one of em pulls that k nife. Now, I ain't sure if they're some of our nig gers or some of them rail-
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    It did not take much to make Shorty happy. James Harris "Shorty" Anderson always had a smile on his face. Folks sa y he went to bed with it, slept with it, and woke up with it too. Everybody liked Shorty. He wasn't mu c h bigger than one of them midget people in that travelin show that came to Banes a couple years back. Shorty's close to sixty now, but still got the quick hoppin walk, looks like he's bouncing stead of walking, but he alwa y s smiling. Down there at LeRoy's place, Shorty be hoppin to that music, smiling, sweating, and shin ing. You could not help but look at him.
    Shorty lived down in the Patch, lived up behind Rever e nd Sims' place, you had to go through Reverend Sims' dirt y ard to get to that little s hack Shorty stayed in . Town folks had

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    ta ken a likin to Shorty a long time ago, got used to his "Good mawnins" on rainy days. Sh011y got his own little business like, works up there in town, doin all kinds of things, sweepin here, moppin there, runnin packages over that way, every body knew where lo find Shorty, here, there, or just call him and he come ru nnin and smilin.
    Saturdays were good for Shorty, town folks be payin what they owed him, folks be in a good mood, liquor be startin to flow, and nighttime be comin. He'd usually stay up town till the shoppin stores close, that would be about five o'clock, then he come down Front Street, turn there at the courthouse, and scoot down Dillion Street past them Saturday-nigh t places, cross them tracks, get on the Patch Road, and bounce across the Catfish bridge. Patch ain't far from there.
    It's not five o'clock yet, Shorty doesn't know what time it is. Sun still high and hot, but Shorty is just a bouncin down Dillion Street with that smile on his face. When he gets across the tracks, he looks back over his shoulder, then al most stumbles but keeps the smile on his face and that talk he's carryin in his mind. He hurries his hop. He got some talk Patch folks ain't heard yet , some talk that might have to be whispered first.
    Reverend Sims spent his Saturday morning readin that Bi ble of his, you could always find him up on his sittin porch with that Bible in his hands. He had two Bibles, the one he readin and won ' t let