White Doves at Morning by James Lee Burke Read Free Book Online

that?"
    "They're called Quakers."
    Flower nodded her head. "Good
night, Miss Abigail," she said.
    "Good night, Flower," Abigail
said.
    A few minutes later Flower
looked back over her shoulder and saw the flatboat slip through the
cypress trees into a layer of moonlit fog that reminded her of the
phosphorous glow given off by a grave.

    THREE days later Willie Burke
was walked in manacles from the Negro jail to the court, a
water-stained loft above a saloon, and charged with drunkenness and
attacking an officer of the law. The judge was not an unkindly man,
simply hard of hearing from a shell burst at the battle of Buena Vista
in 1847, and sometimes more concerned with the pigeons whose droppings
splattered on his desk than the legal matter at hand.
    Through the yellow film of
dirt on the window Willie could see the top of a palm tree and a white
woman driving hogs down the dirt street below. His mother and Abigail
Dowling and his friend Jim Stubbefield sat on a wood bench in the back
of the room, not far from Rufus Atkins and the paddy rollers.
    "How do you plead to the
charges, Mr. Burke?" the judge asked.
    "Guilty of drunkenness, Your
Honor. But innocent of the rest, which is a bunch of lies," Willie
replied.
    "These men all say you
attacked Captain Atkins," the judge said, gesturing at the paddy
rollers.
    Willie said something the
judge couldn't understand.
    "Speak louder!" the judge said.
    "I'd consider the
source!" Willie replied.
    "We have two sides of the same
story, Mr. Burke. But unfortunately for you the preponderance of
testimony comes from your adversaries. Can you pay a fifty-dollar
fine?" the judge said.
    "I cannot!"
    The judge cupped his ear and
leaned forward. His face was as white as goat's cheese, his hair like a
tangle of yellowish-gray flaxen.
    "Speak louder!" he yelled.
    "I have no money, sir! I'll
have to serve a penal sentence!" Willie said.
    "Can you pay twenty-five
dollars?" the judge said.
    "No, I cannot!"
    "I'll pay his fine, me," a
voice at the back of the room said.
    The judge leaned forward and
squinted into the gloom until he made out the massive shape of
Jean-Jacques LaRose.
    "The only fine you'll pay will
be your own, you damn pirate. Get out of my court and don't return
unless you're under arrest," the judge said.
    "May I speak, Your Honor?"
Abigail Dowling said.
    The judge stared at her, his
glasses low on his nose, his head hanging forward from his black coat
and the split collar that extended up into his jowls like pieces of
white cardboard.
    "You're the nurse from
Massachusetts?" he asked.
    "Yes, sir, that's correct!"
she yelled.
    "Everybody in this proceeding
is red-faced and shouting. What's the matter with you people?" the
judge said. "Never mind, go ahead, whatever your name is."
    Abigail walked out of the
gloom into a patch of sunlight, her hands folded in front of her. She
wore an open-necked purple dress with lace on the collar and a silver
comb in the bun on top of her head.
    "I know Mr. Burke well and do
not believe him capable of harming anyone. He's of a gentle spirit and
has devoted himself both to his studies and works of charity. His
accusers—"
    She paused, her right hand
floating in the direction of Rufus Atkins and the paddy rollers. "His
accusers are filled with anger at their own lack of self-worth and
visit their anger with regularity on the meek and defenseless. It's my
view their testimony is not motivated by a desire to further
truth or justice. In fact, their
very presence here demeans the integrity of the court and is an
offense to people of good will," she said.
    The judge looked at her a long
moment. "I hope the Yankees don't have many more like you on their
side," he said.
    "I'm sure their ranks include
much better people than I, sir," Abigail said.
    It was quiet in the room. One
of the paddy rollers hawked softly and leaned over and spit in his
handkerchief. The judge pinched his temples.
    "You want to say anything,
Captain Atkins?" he asked.
    "I haven't the