Free A Gathering of Old Men by Ernest J. Gaines Page B

brown trousers, and shoes well shined. He had taken off his hat, which he held against his leg, not to his chest as Uncle Billy had done. Also unlike Uncle Billy, who never raised his eyes higher than Mapes’s chest, Gable looked him straight in the face. “I kilt him,” he said.
    “I don’t want to hurt you, Gable,” Mapes said. “You’ve had enough trouble in your life already. Now, I ask you again, how did she get you from behind those trees?”
    “I shot him,” Gable said.
    Mapes clamped his teeth so hard that the muscles in his heavy jowls began to quiver. His right hand came up slowly—then
pow
. Gable’s face jerked to the side, but came right back. His eyes watered, but he stared Mapes straight in the face.
    The women on the steps groaned. The little girl and the smaller boy covered their faces. The men watched quietly.
    “You can do it all day long,” Gable said to Mapes.
    Mapes slapped him again. Gable’s face jerked to the side just a little. His eyes blinked for a moment; then he was looking Mapes in the face again.
    The muscles in Mapes’s heavy jowls continued to quiver. He did not like what he was doing, but he didn’t know any other way to get what he wanted.
    “Stand him over there, bring me another one,” he said.
    “Not the other cheek?” Gable asked. “Both times you hit the same one—not the other one?”
    Mapes’s big face flushed with anger. The jowl muscles continued to twitch. He did not answer Gable.
    Griffin took Gable by the arm and led him over to where Uncle Billy was standing. I saw Uncle Billy looking at Mapes and grinning. I could have told Mapes then that he wasn’t going to get anywhere by slapping them.
    “Why don’t you use a stick or a hose pipe?” Candy said toMapes. “No sense bruising your hands on old people who can’t fight back.”
    “They all have shotguns,” Mapes said.
    “You know they won’t use them.”
    “That’s right,” Mapes said. “I know they won’t use them, and we know they didn’t use them, don’t we?”
    “I told you I did it,” Candy said.
    “Sure,” Mapes said. “And my name is Santa Claus.”
    Griffin was moving among the crowd. Suddenly he had become very brave. He wasn’t choosing the first one he came to; he was being picky now. He was going to get the one he wanted. The people did not look at him as he moved toward them. They didn’t seem afraid; they just didn’t think he was important enough to look at. But as he approached the steps, Aunt Glo’s little grandson Snookum suddenly stood up before him. Griffin told him to sit back down before he slapped him down. Griffin was very tough around the very old and the very young. But instead of sitting back down, the boy jumped off the steps and started toward Mapes. Candy, who had not been standing too far away from Mapes, now got between him and the boy, and told the boy to go back. He stopped, but he did not return to the steps until his grandmother called him. He went back and sat on the steps next to her, and she put her arm around his shoulders. Then both she and he looked back at Mapes, and both seemed ready to be slapped, if either or both were his choice. Candy turned back to Mapes, but only stared at him, and did not say anything. I didn’t say anything either. But I knew he wasn’t going to get anything out of them by slapping them around.
    Griffin had already chosen someone else, the quarter’s preacher, Reverend Jameson. Griffin couldn’t have chosen a sadder figure. His shirt was already fully wet from perspiration. He looked as if he were about to have a heart attack, he was so afraid of Mapes. Mapes didn’t like it either that Griffinhad brought him the preacher. He had wanted someone with a gun. But now he had no choice but to go on with what he had started.
    “What are you doing down here, Reverend?” he asked. “Why aren’t you at home reading your Bible?”
    Reverend Jameson looked down at Mapes’s feet. He did not raise his eyes as high