Not you, not your life, not nothing.
So I just worked Tory-boy even harder. Sat him in front of our big-screen and made him watch the news with me, hear how people said things.
He always wanted to please me, and he never got bored, so he was coming along, little by little. It got to the point where I wasn’t worried about people knowing he wasn’t right the minute he opened his mouth.
One of the most valuable things I taught him was that he never had to say much—in any crowd, there’s always someone who wants to do most of the talking.
But no matter how much work I put into Tory-boy, I stayed worried over how he’d handle life on his own. And I knew the day was coming when he’d have to do that.
accepted the burden and vowed to shoulder it. I knew if I ever fell down Tory-boy would hit the ground right after me.
And I knew I couldn’t carry him the full distance. I didn’t know when the day would come, but the knowledge that it was coming drove me on. The closer I got to that day, the harder I drove.
No matter what, I had to get Tory-boy ready to live on his own. The doctors told me I wasn’t going to have a long life. Not even with the right diet, no smoking, the exercising Tory-boy loved helping me with. Under the best of circumstances, I shouldn’t count on ever seeing fifty.
But Tory-boy would. And he’d spend the rest of his life in this hard, hard place. Even the coal they dig out of the ground is hard: anthracite, not the soft bituminous kind that doesn’t fight the pickax for every chunk. Bituminous burns better, too. You’d think, the harder you have to work for something, the more valuable it would be. But that’s just not true. Not around here, anyway.
There’s a Klan, but it’s not much. Mostly old men who tell wild stories about the things they used to do.
Nobody really listens. Not because folks necessarily disagree with them, but because it doesn’t take long for the stories to get as old as the men telling them.
Hate comes easy … and it’s a lot easier than working. But you won’t hear any scare-stories about illegal immigrants in this part of the country. Who’d want to come here? This whole place is just one big prison. Some get sentenced to hard labor, some have it easier, but everyone serves the same term: life.
Even the church people don’t think about getting out, just about getting by. Like I said, that’s got a special meaning around here. And the church people, they do a lot of nice things for folks while they’re waiting for … whatever they believe is coming to them, I guess.
There’s a number of ways you can get respected in these parts. I don’t mean feared—that’s as easy as grabbing a red-hot weld with your bare hand. Holding on to it, that’s another story.
You make people scared enough of you, those same people will watch you get shot down in the street and swear on the Bible that they never saw a thing.
Some of them might even be the shooters.
Fear can make a man run home. But he might be running home to fetch his rifle.
Keeping your word, that’s how to get respect. But if you look deep enough, you can see that’s not one bit different from being feared. A man known for always keeping his word, if he says he’s going to get you, you respect his word by being scared.
Everybody will claim they respect any woman who’s a regular at church, but they don’t mean a lying word of what comes out of their mouths when they say it.
A woman like Miss Jayne Dyson, nobody respects her out in public. But men who wouldn’t say “good morning” to her face are the same ones who knock on her door at night.
I never would act like that. I’d be the worst kind of hypocrite if I did. Who knows better than me that a person can’t always choose their own path? It’s how you walk that path that makes you worthy … or not.
So, when Tory-boy got to the right age—I didn’t need a calendar to tell me that; I could see it rising in him—I helped get him ready for that, too.
I could never be sure what Tory-boy had seen when he was just a small child, and I couldn’t have the Beast be his teacher. So I paid Miss Jayne Dyson to show him what to do, and how to do it right.
he first time I visited her house, I think she was kind of, I don’t know, shocked to see me.
“You’re Esau Till, aren’t you?”
“Yes …”
“Well, yes what?”
“I was going to say ‘ma’am,’ but I didn’t realize you’d be so young. And I don’t know you to be calling you by your first name.”
“You’re Esau Till, all right,” she said. “Folks don’t have manners like yours anymore. But that is what folks say about you, that you’re a true gentleman. Well, you better come in quick, before those nasty old crows across the way start making up stories.”
I rolled myself into her parlor. It was real nice, a lot nicer than any home I’d been in myself. She was walking ahead of me, twitching her hips like I’d seen mares do when they’re in season.
“You want a little—”
She turned around. Her face was blushing so bright I could see it even in the dim light. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was going to say … I mean, just out of habit …”
“I understand,” I told her. Even though I had no idea what had made her turn red like she had, I’ve found saying those two words pretty much always works to calm a person when they’re upset.
She told me she’d be a lot more comfortable if I’d call her Jayne, instead of Miss Dyson. I said I’d do that proudly, if she’d do the same for me.
Then she said she knew me without ever actually meeting me, so she kind of guessed I knew her, too. Knew what she was known for, she meant.
I allowed that I did, but I made sure I didn’t talk to her like she was … well, what folks said she was.
I explained why I needed Tory-boy to be educated. I wanted him to learn to treat a woman properly, and I hoped she would help me with that. I did warn her: a young man like him might not know his own strength, especially when he got himself … excited.
“Oh, I heard that. I know he’s not right in the—”
She saw me looking at her; stopped in her tracks. “Now I truly apologize,” she said. “I’m ashamed of myself. You didn’t come here judging me, and I’ve got no call judging you or yours.”
“Tory-boy’s not wise in some ways,” I told her, meaning I accepted her apology and it was already gone from my mind. “I hoped you’d help me make him wiser than most in some others.”
She smiled at that. That smile, it was so sweet I knew it for a true thing.
iss Jayne Dyson did a very fine job. I know she did; I know it for a fact. It took a number of visits, but after she was done, Tory-boy not only always had girlfriends, but he never beat on any of them, not once, no matter how they acted.
He never talked nasty to them, either. He knew words could cut like whips. Worse, even. So he always treated his girls like ladies, even when they didn’t deserve it.
It turned out that Miss Jayne Dyson, she was a lady. Who else but a real lady would have put so much valuable knowledge inside my little brother?
I will never forget the day as long as I live. The day Tory-boy taught me something. Oh, what a proud, shining moment that had been for him.
“Esau, did you know that if you treat a girl like a lady, if she really believes you think of her that way—like a lady, I mean—well, you can actually turn her into one!? It’s like casting a spell. And you know what else, Esau? I can cast that spell. Me. I never thought I could ever do something like that.”
“You mean, you didn’t believe you could do something like that.”