Free Twilight by William Gay Page B

finished and rose and just as wordlessly went out into the night.

    He was sitting at the bottom of the basement stairs in the courthouse drinking a dope when a deputy came through a side door with a sheaf of warrants in his hand. He went past Tyler without speaking and stood for a moment before a door marked sheriff’s office fumbling out keys. He unlocked the door and went in. He was in there for a few minutes. When he came back out, he didn’t have the warrants and Tyler was still there. He’d finished the dope and sat holding the empty bottle as if he didn’t quite know what to do with it.
    You want something?
    I wanted to see the sheriff.
    He ain’t in.
    I figured that by the door being locked, Tyler said. The deputy stood waiting as if there might be more forthcoming, but there was not.
    What did you want with the sheriff? The deputy was a small stoopshouldered man with fiery red hair and a long, aquiline nose, and his eyes veered warily as if he didn’t know whether to suck up to you or push you around.
    I wanted to talk to him, Tyler said.
    I’m a duly sworn deputy sheriff, the deputy sheriff said. If it’s got anything to do with breakin the law or enforcin the law, then you can take it up with me.
    When do you reckon he’ll be back?
    He’ll come when he comes, the deputy said. He ain’t responsible to me. You through with that bottle, it needs to go back upstairs by the dopebox where it belongs.
    It was a good half hour before the high sheriff came, and when he did the deputy was with him. They stood before thedoor unlocking it, and Tyler wondered vaguely what there was to steal. The world was all locked doors. Watchdogs, keep off signs. As he turned the key, the deputy nodded toward Tyler. Him, he said.
    Uh-huh, the sheriff said.
    They went in and Tyler sat a few minutes longer debating whether to stay or leave. He’d about decided to leave when the door opened halfway and the deputy’s head poked out.
    He’ll see you now, he said.
    Tyler rose and went in. The sheriff was seated behind his desk with his palms laid flat on it. He was a big man. He wore pressed khakis, and his shirtsleeves were folded back a neat turn. He was dark, and his hair was brilliantined back into ornate and intricate waves. He wore a thin mustache of the sort favored by certain movie stars of the nineteen-forties and he was considered to be something of a ladies’ man.
    Something I can help you with, young feller?
    I hope so. I don’t know, but I thought I’d ask and see.
    Take a chair there. To begin with, who are you?
    I know him now, the deputy said. I told you I thought I knew who he was. That’s old Moose Tyler’s boy.
    Uh-huh. What can I do for you, Moose Tyler’s boy?
    Now that he’d come this far, he didn’t know what to say without saying too much. It seemed to him that with the mention of his father’s name a line had been drawn with him on one side and them on the other. He’d lived too long on the outskirts of the enemies’ camp to ever dine at their table.
    My sister and I have been having some trouble with Granville Sutter. He’s done a lot of talking about what he’s going to do. He’s threatened to rape my sister and kill both of us. The sheriff was watching him, deceptively casual. How’d you happen to wind up on the wrong side of Sutter?
    Well, it sort of come up about my sister.
    The deputy laughed. I’ll just bet it come up about his sister, he said. He turned to the sheriff. He’s got a hell of a nicelookin sister.
    Hush up, Harlan. You want to elaborate on this business about your sister, Tyler?
    He tried to go out with her, and she wouldn’t go. He didn’t want to take no for an answer. He slapped her around some and threatened to shoot us.
    Where do you fit into this?
    What?
    Why’s he threatening you?
    Hellfire. I don’t know. Because I took up for her, I guess.
    Uh-huh. Listen close to me, Tyler. I’m going to explain something to you. You’re young and you ain’t been around and