Justice Served

Justice Served By Lonikaye Harkless Chapter 1 - Reason for Urgency At an oval shaped table in a large country kitchen, Joyce Hayes was sitting shelling beans. Looking down at her hands, she realized that she had big knuckles just like her mom. She had been told ever since she could remember that she looked just like her mom, therefore, she considered herself rather attractive. Sis James Edwards, her mom, was the most beautiful black woman in town when she was young. Joyce can still remember how heads would turn when they walked down the street. At that time, she did not know why. Joyce was a health nut. She never smoked and Grand Marnier was her cocktail of choice every once in a while, at night when she was very tired. Fish and chicken was the only flesh she ate when she was in her own house. Here, she ate whatever Vonetta cooked. Raw vegetables were her snack of choice. Across from her, was Junior Banks. No one ever called him Junior or Banks. It was always Junior Banks. He was older than Joyce by a few years, but he looked much older because of his drinking. His wife had died several years earlier, so he filled his time by drinking and sitting with Vonetta, who was always at home. He does not talk much because he knows that she does not like to talk, so his being there does not bother her. She spends most of her time in the kitchen. Even if she is not cooking or cleaning, she would sit there and watch TV while crunching on ice cubes. Junior Banks was sipping on his favorite liquor with a splash of Pepsi while holding a pan between his knees, helping Joyce shell beans. He was good about helping with anything he could. Just to keep from being alone in his house. Vonetta, Joyce’s older sister was standing at the sink washing dishes and watching TV. She was always tired, even when she got up in the morning. The little wrinkles across her forehead very seldom went away. She did not show love in a worm, caring way, therefore, taking care of a sick person did not set well with her. She and Joyce had made an agreement that she would do everything in the house as long as Joyce would take care of their mother. The house was moderate in décor but always clean. Cleanliness was a passion with Vonetta. She has an additive nature and cleanliness was her latest addition. The kitchen was painted white with blue trim. The curtains were blue lace with white flowers with matching placemats on the table. Most of the entertaining was done in the kitchen, therefore most of the time, there were pots on the stove with food in them. So whenever someone came in and sat down to that oval table, they could rest assured that they would be offered something to eat. She never learned to drive a car so cooking and taking care of the house had become her only job. Suddenly, their attention was drawn to the TV by the sight of a body being pulled from the river. The reporter was making a report on a story that has been in the news for weeks. The pregnant wife of Ralph May had been killed in their car as they left a Lamaze session. He told the police that a black man had jumped into the car and killed his wife and shot him in the thigh. It was later determined that he had killed her himself. “The body of Ralph May has just been recovered from the river. It is now known, that the man arrested as a suspect in this case, is not the murderer.” Vonetta put her hand up to signal Junior Banks and Joyce to be quiet so she could hear what the reporter was saying on TV. They all stopped what they were doing to listen to the rest of the story. “The black people in the community are outraged. They are saying that, Wayne Bell, the black suspect, would have been lynched by now, had this happened thirty years ago.” Junior Banks jumped up from the table shaking his finger at the TV as if it could hear him. “And they are right! They are sure enough right!” He then turned to Joyce, still pointing his finger to emphasize his point. “That is exactly what happened to your mom’s cousin, Robert James” Vonetta slowly turned toward Junior Banks as if he had turned on a light in her head. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open as memories of that incident came back to her. Joyce just sat there looking at the TV not saying a word. While Junior Banks continues to rant “They arrested Robert for killing that white woman that his mom worked for…What was her name?” He was snapping his fingers and shaking his head trying to remember her name. Vonetta chimed in, “Matherson! Son Matherson’s wife.” Vonetta and Junior Banks stood there looking at each other with a strange look on their faces. Neither one of them said a word. “What are you talking about?” Joyce asked Junior Banks started to talk with a new tone to his voice. He picked up his glass and gulped down the last swallow in it. He picked up the half pint bottle to pour another drink in the glass but there was no more. He lowered himself to his chair as in slow motion as the full memory of that incident flooded his mind. “Matherson. God! That was some mess. That woman had been cut up like a tenderized steak. She was cut in more ways than you can think of, and in places a robber would never even go. Son Matherson told the authorities that Robert James killed his wife and no more questions were asked. Robert was locked up that night, and that was the last time he saw the light of day.” Joyce could now remember the time when all the people that came to their home talked about how wrong the cops were to arrest Robert. Even at church, the Preacher talked about it from the pulpit. Joyce was thinking of how her mom’s cousin, or someone in the family, was trying to get people to give money to help pay for a lawyer for Robert, but no one could come up with any. Except the preacher and the undertaker and that wasn’t enough. She probably never would have thought of those things again in life, had that news report not come on TV. She was to young. Even though it was in the family, it was not something people wanted to remember so they never talked about it. Vonetta said, “I was not yet a teenager when Mrs. Matherson was killed and we didn’t live near where it happened, but I had sense enough to be scared. I thought that someone else might get killed because that was the first time I had seen black folks take a stand against the white folks. The blacks all knew that Robert didn’t kill that woman.” Junior Banks said, The white folks knew it too but they had to put the blame on somebody, so they picked a black man.” Joyce wanted to know why Robert was the one they picked. “Maybe it was because he was close at hand. His mom was the maid in the Matherson’s household, so Robert grew up in that house,” Vonetta said. Joyce was silent for a long moment in deep thought. There has to be more to it than that. Now speaking out loud she said, “I wonder if Mother can tell me anything about that?” Junior Banks jumped to his feet, pointing his finger, as usual, as he spoke, “Yah-yah-yah! That’s a good one to ask! I know your Ma remembers all about it. That boy was kind of close in her family!” Joyce started down the hall to the room where her mom was in bed. As she passed the bathroom, she got a whiff that made her know that Junior Banks had been in there, and he had missed the toilet again. She went in, got the cleaning spray bottle from under the sink, did a quick clean up, washed her hands and went on to her mom’s room. The room was bright with natural light. The curtains were white with black and white ruffles. There were fresh cut flowers in a vase on the bedside table. The television sat on top of a chest-of-draws. Sis Edwards was a frail little woman about 80 years old. The frame of her body barely showed in the bed now because she had lost so much weight. Joyce walke