Chapter Thirty

THE FIRST SECTION:
“What are you doing Coleman?” Richard asked his son-in-law. “And where were you this morning during the funeral. Everyone was asking for you. You should have been sitting up at the front with me but you weren’t there. And then afterwards you left me to do all of the condolences. It’s a good thing you didn’t decide where to bury Emily. I can see now that you are too confused to think of anything that might be important.”
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“What?” Coleman said through his startled breaths. “Where did you come from? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about our common tragedy today Coleman,” Richard exclaimed. “What is the matter with you? Why are you so out of breath and what are you doing in Emily’s room?”

Coleman did not answer Richard’s questions. Instead he stood up and tried to collect himself. When he ran into the house, he just continued running until he found a place to stop. It was pure synchronicity that Richard was in the room after he had felt so badly for missing his portion of Emily’s funeral. He did not know what to think at first but offered the only piece of information that he could think of instead.

“I think I know who killed your wife sir,” he said. Coleman was unsure of what Richard’s reaction would be. Not only had he misbehaved at Emily’s funeral, but he had also just inexplicably burst into Emily’s room and oddly did not answer Richard’s questions right away. It occurred to him after the fact that the response he had just posed was probably going to startled Richard even more.

“What did you say?” Richard asked quietly.

Coleman stumbled about before restating his new information, “I said that I know who killed your wife.”

“You know who killed my wife?” Richard asked as he moved a few steps closer to Coleman. “Who?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” Coleman said, “but it was the boy’s father. The boy who killed Emily, his father.”

“What are you talking about?” Richard asked. “What are you talking about? Speak up!”

“I overheard them,” Coleman said. “I over heard Reginald and two men, one of them was a priest the other day, but today he is not.” Coleman found it difficult to explain himself. There was so much to tell yet there was so little that he wanted to say at the same time. He wanted to capture Richard’s attention without steering him back toward the funeral. The truth was Coleman had no answer for his behavior at the funeral.

“You overheard Reginald talk about who killed my wife?” Richard pressed on.

“Yes sir,” Coleman said stepping away from the encroaching Richard. “I heard them down by the dam. I followed them. I don’t know why, but they appeared suspicious. I wanted to know what was going on and I was able to overhear their conversation. Its true, the Christopher Calloway, the boy’s father, killed your wife. There must be some sort of conspiracy going on sir. They must have something against you. You must ensure they are hung, all of them.”

Richard was moving closer to Coleman all the while Coleman sidestepped across the room to avoid the mayor. The more Coleman spoke he noticed the more hardened Richard’s fist became. This made him very nervous and the only way he could think of keeping Richard at bay was to keep talking and moving around.

“I think even Reginald might be involved in this entire ordeal sir,” Coleman explained. “He has been expanding his business elsewhere. I think he is trying to move into this town and take it over. I have always suspected him. He must have thought that by killing Emily that you would step down, that you would become weak and too emotionally unstable to continue on. Then he could put his own candidate in the office. You see this don’t you? He set this all up. He is the man you should be seeking, not me.”

Richard stopped dead in his tracks, “You? What do you have to do with this? Why would I be going after you Coleman?”

Coleman was stuck and he knew it. He never intended to let on that he felt that he was responsible for Emily’s death. Instead of being direct with Richard, Coleman again sidestepped him, this time by saying, “You have to believe me that I heard it myself. There were three of them there. And the man who was a priest, he’s not really a priest at all or else he would have been dressed like one, especially today.”

“Why you,” Richard screamed. Coleman stepped in the same direction as Richard and felt the harsh blow of Richard’s knuckles crashes across his face. Stunned by the force of the blow, Coleman dropped to his knees and fell into Richard’s lap, his own knuckles dragged across the floor as started to fall to his side and onto the floor. Richard grabbed a hold of Coleman’s arms in an attempt to prop him up, but Coleman was delirious from the first punch and could barely get his feet underneath him. In the struggle to stand, Coleman managed to find some balance and staggered to a drunkard’s stance and then Richard hit him again, this time knocking him straight backward to the floor. All Coleman could hear was the rush of footsteps into the room. He thought he heard his father’s voice yell out in the crowd, but he was unsure. He tried to pick up his head to see what was happening and could barely make out several figures restraining Richard.

He dropped his head against the floor and slowly faded to sleep, listening to Richard’s voice say, “He was talking about who killed Emily and my wife. The boy is out of control. I ought to have him hung instead.”