James Henderson: Family Thang

“Kenny G! My goodness! Kenny G was poisoned, too?”

“The dog’s name?”

“Yes. Daddy named him, said he barked like a white boy. He loved Kenny G.”

“If not for the dog’s death I would not have suspected foul play.”

“Why? Why would someone poison him? Why?”

Sheriff Bledsoe stared at her. “Your father?”

“Of course. I couldn’t care less about the dog.”

“Well, that’s what I intend to find out. It appears your father and his dog came into contact with the poison at or about the same time. Neck bones, barbecued neck bones to be exact, were found in both their stomachs.” Ruth Ann grimaced. “I’m sorry, Ruth Ann. I know this is difficult for you.” He cleared his throat. “Who cooked the neck bones?”

Ruth Ann buried her face in her hands, sighed and then ran her fingers through her long black hair. “I don’t remember. We were having a barbecue. Daddy likes barbecued neck bones. No one else would touch them.”

Sheriff Bledsoe picked up a pen. “Who all were at the barbecue?”

“Let’s see… Robert Earl and his wife, Shirley and her son, Momma, a few neighbors and their kids… and… I’m sorry, I can’t remember who else.”

“What about your other brother, the one from Chicago?”

“Sheriff, if you know Leonard was there, you know about the barbecue. Why play twenty questions with me?”

Sheriff Bledsoe interlaced his fingers, rested them on his expansive paunch and leaned back in his chair.

“Ruth Ann, this is my job. Don’t take this personally. I know a bit of what happened, not enough to form a complete picture.”

“Yes, Leonard was there. He came late and he didn’t stay long.”

“Didn’t he and your father exchange words? An altercation of some sort?”

“I wouldn’t call it an altercation. Daddy and Leonard had a minor disagreement. Leonard left and the fun continued until Daddy took sick.”

“A minor disagreement?”

Ruth Ann squinted at Sheriff Bledsoe. “Hello? Leonard didn’t poison Daddy, Sheriff. I know what you’re inferring. Leonard didn’t do it!”

“I didn’t say he did. Ruth Ann, don’t get defensive. I understand this is your family we’re discussing, but we are also talking murder. Everyone at the barbecue is a suspect.” Pause. “Including you.”

Ruth Ann snorted. “You can wipe my name off your list. I didn’t poison my daddy, and I don’t do neck bones.” She opened her purse and retrieved a handkerchief.

Dabbing the corners of her eyes, she said, “Daddy and I were close, real close. In fact, to be honest with you, I was his favorite child.”

“Ruth Ann, what exactly was said between your father and Leonard?”

“It wasn’t much of anything. Daddy called Leonard a name and told him never set foot in his house again.”

“A name?”

“He insulted Leonard’s manhood.”

“Uh… uh… your brother is—”

“Gay. He’s not a flamboyant fairy. You wouldn’t even know he’s gay unless someone told you.”

“Your father didn’t know he was gay until the barbecue?”

“He knew. Everybody knew. One of those family thangs no one talks about, you know what I mean?” Sheriff Bledsoe nodded. “I guess Leonard couldn’t breathe without it being official. He brought this white boy with him, as if he needed tangible proof of his being gay. You can’t blame Daddy. His son standing up in front of everybody and proclaiming, ‘I’m gay.’ Don’t get me wrong, I’m not homophobic. I just think there’s a right time and place for everything.”

“Didn’t you say there were children present at the barbecue?”

“Yes, they were. Leonard and Shirley ushered all the kids inside the house before Leonard made his announcement. Shirley, bless her misguided soul, cosigned Leonard’s foolish idea to out at a family get-together. If he’d asked me I would have told him to pick another date. April Fool’s Day would have been perfect.”

“His friend, the white boy, what’s his name?”

“I don’t remember. He’s not hard to spot. Pale, baldheaded, chubby, a weak wrist.”

“How long after Leonard’s departure before your father took sick?”

“Leonard came back.”

“He came back?”

“He left something—keys, wallet, something.”

“Another exchange?”

“No. Leonard did all the talking.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing, really. He told Daddy to go to hell with his eyes open.”

“Your father didn’t respond?”

“He didn’t get a chance. Shirley blocked Daddy from Leonard, and she was yelling at Leonard to leave.”

“Shirley, she’s your younger sister?”

“Yes. Robert Earl is the oldest. Then me, Shirley and Leonard.”

“At any point whatsoever did you see Leonard come into contact with the neck bones?”

“No. The food was cooking on the grill when Leonard and his friend arrived. When Leonard came back the second time everyone was eating.”

“Tell me if I’m wrong here. Leonard angrily tells your father, ‘Go to hell with your eyes open,’ and then your father takes sick?”

“A bizarre coincidence. Daddy started coughing, choking, and fell out of his seat clutching his throat. I thought he’d choked on a piece of meat.”

Shaking her head: “It was horrible… horrible!… Momma started screaming and her screaming started other people overreacting. Shirley whopped Daddy on the back really hard, sounded like a door slamming. This guy, Harold, I believe his name. Claims he’s our cousin—I doubt it, just an excuse for free food.

“He pushed Shirley out the way, picked Daddy up and started shaking and squeezing him… Daddy’s flapping and flopping and his face all tore up, eyes bucked, tongue hanging out, and Harold steady shaking him. Daddy made this god-awful gurgling noise and threw up… just exploded.”

“Projectile vomiting,” Sheriff Bledsoe said. “A symptom of arsenic poisoning.”

“The idiot kept shaking and squeezing Daddy and whirling him this way and that, and Daddy started spraying people and they started hollering and knocking things over trying to get out of the way, as if being puked on by a dying man was the worst thing in the world to have happen to you.”

“What Leonard doing during all of this?”

“I don’t remember. Such a commotion going on. People panicking and running down the street. Shirley fainted and fell on her face. Momma running in circles calling Jesus. Kenny G howling like a coyote, and this nut whirling Daddy around like a human water hose. I was just worried about my daddy, that’s all, nobody else. I couldn’t tell you what someone else was…”

She stopped abruptly, buried her face in her hands and started crying.

Sheriff Bledsoe took this moment to appraise his small jail. The gray paint on the walls was peeling, large flakes exposing white paint underneath. Cold air blew from the air conditioner, though it rattled noisily and had to be turned on with pliers.

Duct tape held the cushion together in his chair. The other chairs were in poorer condition. Rust coated every bar on the one-man jail cell. Solve this case, he thought, and maybe, just maybe, the mayor would allocate the funds to refurbish.

“I want to know!” Ruth Ann snapped. “I want to know who did this to my daddy, Sheriff Bledsoe. My daddy had his faults—he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t!”

Sheriff Bledsoe nodded. “I’m going to nail whoever poisoned your father.” He puffed up his chest: “I guarantee you!”

Later, a very short time later, he would regret making this statement, and regret even more the first time he laid eyes on Ruth Ann Hawkins and her family.

Leonard stood in front of the mirror adjusting his tie. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”