The Norphlet Mafia, Chapter 5 Post 7

And you know something? That sorry kid has bullied nearly every smaller kid in school, and if there ever was a kid in school that was hated worse, and deserved this, I have never heard of him. Well, Homer Ray had to kind of push his way through the folks standing out in front of the Marshal’s office, and when he was almost to the door, a reporter from the El Dorado Daily News stepped in front of him and took his picture. It was time to boo, and me and John Clayton just poured it on, followed by Ears and Tiny, and then a bunch of other kids as I shouted, “Why’d you do it, Homer Ray?” And John Clayton yelled, “Dog killer!” I screamed out, “Let’s get that dog killer!” And, shoot, you wouldn’t believe it, but when me and John Clayton kinda rushed Homer Ray, a bunch of other kids followed us, and one of them grabbed Homer Ray’s shirt and pulled him back in the crowd. Okay, maybe we did whack him a few times, since he was the school bully, and yeah, it got pretty wild. Finally we acted like we were gonna haul the sorry kid off, and some of the adults started yelling for the Marshal, who had to come out and shoot his gun up in the air. About that time, the reporter for the El Dorado Daily News flashed another picture for the paper, and it crossed my mind, Well, that should take some heat off me. Me and John Clayton walked back to the breadbox at Echols Grocery, where we leaned back and talked about the grilling Homer Ray was getting. Well, I went home that night thinking that maybe that rat Homer Ray was gonna what was coming to him, even though it was kinda sneaky. And the next morning when I got to the newsstand Doc was holding up the El Dorado News-Times. Wow, there was a picture of Homer Ray on the cover with “Suspect Questioned in Chihuahua Bleach Investigation.” And then there was another picture of a bunch of boys trying to beat-up on Homer Ray. The headline over that picture was: “Boys Riot to Grab Suspect.” There was John Clayton taking a punch at Homer Ray, with me and a couple of other boys pulling at him. I figured all of that might just take care of all my Chihuahua problems. “Doc, I’m sure glad they caught that sorry kid.” “Well Richard, the paper said he was just being questioned, and Marshal Wing told me it was because his house didn't have a bleach bottle beside it. You know whoever put out all those bleach bottle s is gonna be in big trouble if the Marshal ever catches them. He said they’d be charged with obstructing a police investigation, and that would make it two felonies.” That was way more than I wanted to hear, so a grabbed my paper bag and took off. Of course, I was thinking about the whole mess, which was getting messier every day. Now there was another charge out there on the person—me—for putting out all those bleach bottles. But I was hoping Marshal Wing would keep after Homer Ray, and maybe Homer Ray wouldn’t have a good excuse. Well, the route went about like always, but when I got back to the newsstand there was another surprise. Marshal Wing was there talking to Doc. Yeah, I stopped breathing, but I did managed to squeeze out a “Hi, Marshal Wing.” Have you ever had someone act really nice, but you knew they were prying into stuff? You know, kinda throwing out questions like, “Richard, did you happen to see those poor. little, white-spotted dogs when you passed Mrs. Graves’ house this morning?” Well, that sounds like a very simple question, but what was I going to say? I sure wasn't going to tell the Marshal that when the dogs saw me they howled and ran under the porch. So I lied. “Yes, Marshal, I always stop to pet those sweet, little puppies, and sometimes I’ll bring them dog biscuits.” Yep, they ain’t many things I’m really good at, but lying just comes naturally, rolling off my tongue about every time I open my mouth. Uh huh, that little lie kinda set the Marshal back ‘cause I seemed like the top Norphlet Chihuahua lover. Then, since I was on a roll, I said, “Have you locked up that sorry Homer Ray?” But then things changed when the Marshal said, “No, Homer Ray was in El Dorado staying with his aunt most of the time the dogs were sprayed. He’s not a good suspect anymore, but maybe you can help me find the boy who attacked those dogs.” Well, I didn’t have a clue how I could help, since I was the kid, so I said, “Sure Marshal, just tell me how I can help.” Marshal Wing reached in his back pocket and pulled out a red water pistol—my red water pistol. Oh, my God! Oh, my God! just kept ricocheting through my mind. How did he get my water pistol? “Take a good look at this water pistol, Richard. I just happen to cross the railroad tracks in front of my office, and I saw it lying there, and it still has some of the bleach water in it. Have you seen any of the boys about your age with this water pistol?” More sweat popped out on my forehead, and just the sight of that danged gun of mine sent a shiver up my back like what you might feel if you were strapped in the electric chair up at State Prison. It was hard to get that next lie out of my mouth, but even I surprised myself. “It does look kinda familiar, Marshal. I think it looks like the one an El Dorado kid was using last Saturday at the Ritz Theatre.” I could tell Marshal Wing didn’t like that last answer. He shook his head and said, “Well, if you think of any Norphlet boys, you saw with this gun, let me know.” “Sure, Marshal.” Well, that was all the questions and in a few minutes, he left the newsstand. Gosh, I sure came away from that little talk with the idea that Marshal Wing had me close to the top of his list of suspects. I was going to get nailed if I didn't throw him off the trail: so I came up with another plan.