Page 138 - Tamale Ridge_113017

136 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

“I guess a lot of that depends on the Jury. If they sympathize with him, for his brother being

shot down right in front of his eyes, they might let him off," he said.

“Well, all I can say is, they were all pretty drunk. You know what happens to folks when

they get all liquored up and a gun comes out,” I said.

“You look all tuckered out,” he said, “You better get some rest.”

With that, I went over to the hotel and my room. In the lobby, I saw a man setting, with his hat

over his face, sleeping in one of the big overstuffed chairs. He stirred and looked at me, then

pulled his hat back over his face and appeared to go back to sleep in the chair. I walked up the

stairs and took the first room on the left. I undressed, put my rifle outside the covers, next to me

and went to sleep almost immediately.

I couldn’t have slept more than an hour or so but I opened my eyes to find it was turning light in

the east. My rifle still lay beside me and I found I still gripped it in my left hand. I must not

have stirred at all last night. I dressed, went down stairs and over to the jail. Sheriff Joe Andry

was just serving breakfast to his prisoner.

“Good morning,” I said.

“Mornin’. Got some better coffee for ya,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said, accepting the fresh cup of steaming coffee.

I sipped the first half of the wake up juice and poured the cup full again and pulled out a chair.

We made small talk for a while and decided to go get some breakfast over at the café and wait

for the Judge to hear what I had to say.

While we were setting eating breakfast, the same man I noticed in the hotel lobby came in and

sat down at a table nearby.

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