Titus felt like he’d been chewing raw cotton. He opened his eyes and saw Albert and Marquis sitting on either side of his hospital bed. Albert noticed he was awake and hopped out of his chair with surprising agility. He grabbed Titus’s left hand and squeezed it so tight Titus felt it through whatever pain meds they had pumped into him.
“My boy, my boy. You came back to me. I knew you’d come back,” Albert said. Tears rolled down his weathered face and caught in his gray beard.
“How long … I been out?” Titus said.
“Two days,” Marquis said. He stood on the right side of the bed, his huge hands gripping the railing.
Albert rubbed Titus’s forehead. “I love you,” Albert said.
“Love you too, Pop,” Titus croaked.
“Let me get you some water. The doctor said you could have water if … when you woke up,” Albert said.
“Yeah, I’m thirsty as hell,” Titus rasped.
“I’ll be right back,” Albert said. He shuffled out the room, his previous agility having abandoned him.
“What’s wrong with my voice?” Titus asked Marquis once he was sure Albert was out of earshot.
“That motherfucker did something to your larynx. He also got you in the liver pretty good and nicked your gallbladder, but they said you don’t really need that,” Marquis said. “It was touch-and-go for a minute, but me and Pop told them you’re too fucking stubborn to die. Who would keep us from stealing grapes in the supermarket then?” Marquis said. He gently took Titus’s right hand in his own.
Titus turned his head. The window to his left showed a serenity garden in the courtyard of the hospital. Large quartz rocks in concentric circles interspersed with liriope and pampa grass. A little wooden bench sat in the center.
“You know, when he stabbed me, I passed out for a few seconds. I was lying there on the floor, lying in my blood, in Tom’s blood, thinking I was going into shock, and…” Titus swallowed hard. It felt like barbed wire was sliding down his throat.
“And what?” Marquis asked.
Titus licked his lips.
“I thought I heard her,” Titus said.
“Heard who?”
“Her. Mama. I know it was my fight-or-flight reflex kicking my adrenaline into overdrive, making my brain fire off like a bad electrical circuit, but it felt so real, Key. I knew it wasn’t. Knew if I opened my eyes she wouldn’t be there. But it got me up off that floor. I guess my mind just pulled up my strongest emotion and used it to kick me into gear,” Titus said.
“Your strongest emotion is grief?” Marquis asked.
“No. It’s guilt.”
“Ty, come on, now. Ain’t nothing you got to feel guilty about when it comes to Mama. I done told you, ain’t nothing you could have done, ain’t nothing me or Pop could have done. That was above us,” Marquis said.
“I know, but I still feel like…”
“You know, I don’t know nothing about adrenaline and fight-or-flight or all that, but … okay, you say it was your brain pushing you to get up and gut that motherfucker, and that’s probably true, but … what if we just say it was her? Say she came back to help her boy. I know you don’t believe in that, but wasn’t it nice to hear her voice? Cuz I’d give anything to hear her one more time,” Marquis said.
Titus felt his breath come in ragged bursts.
And then he was crying, crying from deep in his belly, crying in long loud sobs that reverberated through his body, and there was Marquis with his arms around him, pulling him close and holding him tight.
“I miss her so much, Key. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save her. I miss her so much,” Titus cried.
“You saved Lavon. You saved Kellie. You saved Charon. Now it’s time for you to save yourself, big brother,” Marquis said.
They rocked back and forth like that for a long time.
THIRTY-ONE
The twilight sky looked like a magenta dream over Charon County.
The cold December wind howled around the corners of the Crown house. Albert took the dinner plates off the kitchen table and sat them in the sink. Marquis finished his beer and tossed the bottle in the trash.
Titus came downstairs. He was wearing a black leather jacket, black T-shirt, and blue jeans. He had a brown duffel bag on his shoulder. He sat the bag down and went to the kitchen.
“Y’all gonna walk me out?” Titus said. His voice still wasn’t back to normal after a month and half. The doctors said he might need surgery, but he declined. He was done with people cutting on him. He’d called Kellie to check on her once he was out of the hospital. She’d heard his voice and burst into tears.
“Oh, Virginia, what did he do to you?” she’d said, choking back a sob.
They had promised to stay in touch, but Titus had his doubts. Seeing him, hearing him would just be a reminder of the most traumatic night of her life. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more pain.
“I don’t know why you can’t wait until tomorrow morning to leave,” Albert said.
“Pop, I got a fifteen-hour drive ahead of me. This way I get into Baton Rouge at nine A.M. and I can go right to the college and get settled in,” Titus said.
“I still can’t believe you gonna be a teacher,” Marquis said.
“Professor,” Titus corrected him.
Marquis waved his hand. “Whatever, I just can’t see you sitting behind a desk grading papers and handing out stickers.”
“I’m teaching criminology, so it’s not like I’m completely giving up on law enforcement,” Titus said.
“I don’t know, I think you gonna be bored,” Marquis said.
Albert turned around and dried his hands on a dish towel.
“If the Watering Hole hadn’t burned down, I’d say we should go by there and have a goodbye drink,” Albert said.
“Ain’t like I ain’t never coming back, Pop. And the Watering Hole was a shitty place anyway. Somebody just decided to put it out of our misery,” Titus said. He caught Marquis’s eye. His brother didn’t wink at him, but he might as well have.
“Watering Hole burn down, the flag factory closing. Cunninghams selling the fish house and leaving town, and now you done resigned. It’s like Charon is falling apart,” Albert said.
Titus thought of Carla’s face when he’d handed her his badge.
“Can you … can you do this?” she had asked.
“I’ve already done it. I told the Board of Supervisors I’d made you deputy sheriff when I gave them my resignation. Now you’re just gonna serve out my term and you’ll probably have to run against Roger when that’s up. That’s if you want to run,” Titus had said.
Carla had stared at the badge in her hand.
“I wish you weren’t leaving,” she had said.
“Remember when you asked me how I dealt with the thoughts in my head that came from chasing people like Royce?” he’d said.
“Yeah.”
“I want to be able to dream again without being afraid of what I’ll see. Now, if you want my two cents, I think you should run, and I think you can win. You get with Jamal Addison and he will get the vote out for you. You’ll be a good sheriff, Carla. Better than me,” he’d said.
She’d hugged him then.
“Sometimes you gotta burn off last year’s crop to let the soil get renewed, Pop,” Titus said now.
“All right, Farmers’ Almanac,” Marquis said.
Titus shook his head. “Come on, y’all, walk me out.”
The three of them walked out into the chilly autumn evening, the sun just barely still visible over the horizon. They stopped and studied the sky for a long moment.
“All right, I’m getting on the road,” Titus said.
Albert gave him a bear hug. “Call us when you get there. And when you stop for a break. Just … call us.” He released Titus and stepped back.
“You know I’m coming to visit so we can drive down to New Orleans, right?” Marquis said as he wrapped his arms around Titus.
“I’d be disappointed in you if you didn’t,” Titus said in his ear.
They clapped each other on the back before breaking their embrace.
Titus got in his Jeep and started the engine.
He lowered the window.
“Y’all behave yourselves. I’ll call when I get into town,” Titus said.
“Go on, before we all start crying. Again,” Marquis said.
Titus laughed. “Love y’all.”
“Back atcha,” Marquis said.
“Love ya, boy,” Albert said.
* * *
Titus drove down Route 18 past the Safeway and the pharmacy. The roads of Charon were empty except for a stray possum trundling across the center line. Titus turned left on Courthouse Lane. He was going to take it up to Zephyr and then up to Route 19, which would take him out of the county. He’d have to go through Red Hill and Maryville until he hit the interstate just outside of Newport News.
He passed the courthouse and the Confederate statue of Ol’ Rebel Joe.
Titus slammed on the brakes.
He put the Jeep in reverse until he was in front of the courthouse. He backed up into one of the diagonal parking slots in front of the building.