A time to kill

Mickey Mouse called Ozzie early Saturday morning at his home and promised more trouble from the Klan. 'file riot on Thursday had not been their fault, he explained, yet they were being blamed for it. They had marched in peace, and now their leader lay near death with seventy percent of his body covered with third-degree burns. There would be retaliation; it had been ordered from above. Reinforcements were on the way from other states, and there would be violence. No specifics now, but he would call later when he knew more.

Ozzie sat on the side of his bed, rubbed the swollen hump on the back of his neck and called the mayor. And he called Jake. An hour later they met in Ozzie's office.

"The situation is about to get outta hand," Ozzie said, holding an ice pack to his neck and grimacing with every word. "I've got it from a reliable informant that the Klan plans to retaliate for what happened Thursday. They're supposed to bring fresh troops from other states."

"Do you believe it?" asked the mayor.

"I'm afraid not to believe it."

"Same informant?" asked Jake.

"Yep."

"Then I believe it."

"Somebody said there was talk of movin' or postponin' the trial," Ozzie said. "Any chance of it?"

"No. I met with Judge Noose yesterday. It won't be moved and it'll start Monday."

"Did you tell him about the burnin' crosses?"

"I told him everything."

"Is he crazy?" asked the mayor.

"Yes, and stupid. But don't quote me on that."

"Is he on solid legal ground?" asked Ozzie.

Jake shook his head. "More like quicksand."

"What have you got in mind?" asked the mayor.

Ozzie changed ice packs and carefully rubbed his neck. He spoke with pain. "I have a strong desire to prevent another riot. Our hospital is not big enough to allow this crap to continue. We must do something. The blacks are angry and volatile, and it wouldn't take much to ignite them. Some

blacks are just lookin' for a reason to start shootin', and those white robes are good targets. I've got a hunch the Klan may do somethin' really stupid, like try to kill somebody. They're gettin' more national exposure off this than they've had in ten years. The informant told me that after Thursday they've had calls from all over the country from volunteers wantin' to come down here and join the fun."

He slowly rolled his head around his shoulders and changed ice packs again. "I hate to say it, Mayor, but I think you should call the governor and ask for the National Guard. I know it's a drastic step, but I'd hate to get someone killed."

"The National Guard!" the mayor repeated in disbelief.

"That's what I said."

"Occupying Clanton?" .

"Yep. Protectin' your people."

"Patrolling the streets?"

"Yep. With guns and everthing."

"Oh my, this is drastic. Aren't you overreacting a bit?"

"No. It's evident I don't have enough men to keep peace around here. We couldn't even stop a riot that happened right in front of us. The Klan's burnin' crosses all over the county, and we can't do anything about it. What will we do when the blacks decide to start some trouble? I don't have enough men, Mayor. I need some help."

Jake thought it was a marvelous idea. How could a fair and impartial jury be chosen when the National Guard had the courthouse surrounded? He thought of the jurors arriving for court Monday and walking past the soldiers with guns and jeeps and maybe even a tank or two parked in front of the courthouse. How could they be fair and impartial? How could Noose insist on trying the case in Clanton? How could the Supreme Court refuse to reverse if, heaven forbid, there was a conviction? It was a great idea.

"Whatta you think, Jake?" asked the mayor, looking for help.

"I don't think you have a choice, Mayor. We can't stand another riot. It could hurt you politically."

"I'm not worried about politics," the mayor replied angrily, knowing Jake and O/zie knew better. The mayor had been reelected last time by less than fifty votes and did not

make a move without weighing the political fallout. Ozzie caught a grin from Jake as the mayor squirmed with the thought of having his quiet little town occupied by the army.

After dark Saturday, Ozzie and Hastings led Carl Lee out the rear door of the jail and into the sheriff's patrol car. They talked and laughed as Hastings drove in slow motion out into the country, past Bates Grocery and onto Craft Road. The Haileys' front yard was covered with cars when they arrived, so he parked in the road. Carl Lee walked through his front door like a free man and was immediately embraced by a mob of kinfolks, friends, and his children. They had not been told he was coming. He hugged them desperately, all four at the same time in one long bear hug as if there might be no more for a long time. The crowd watched in silence as this huge man knelt on the floor and buried his head among his weeping children. Most of those in the crowd wept too.