639
Carolina. He now lived near Durham.
Every month for nine and a half years, he had shipped to Sam a box of cigarettes and a small amount of cash. He'd written a few letters, but neither he nor Sam were interested in correspondence. Few people in Durham knew he had a brother on death row.
He was frisked inside the front door, and shown to the front office. Sam was brought in a few minutes later, and they were left alone. Donnie hugged him for a long time, and when they released each other both had moist eyes. They were of similar height and build, though Sam looked twenty years older. He sat on the edge of the desk and Donnie took a chair nearby.
Both lit cigarettes and stared into space.
"Any good news?" Donnie finally asked, certain of the answer.
"No. None. The courts are turning everything down. They're gonna do it, Donnie. They're gonna kill me. They'll walk me to the chamber and gas me like an animal."
Donnie's face fell to his chest. "I'm sorry, Sam."
"I'm sorry too, but, dammit, I'll be glad when it's over." '
"Don't say that."
"I mean it. I'm tired of living in a cage. I'm an old man and my time has come."
"But you don't deserve to be killed, Sam."
"That's the hardest part, you know. It's not that I'm gonna die, hell, we're all dying. I just can't stand the thought of these jackasses getting the best of me. They're gonna win. And their reward is to strap me in and watch me choke. It's sick."
"Can't your lawyer do something?"
"He's trying everything, but it looks hopeless. I want you to meet him."
"I saw his picture in the paper. He doesn't resemble our people."
"He's lucky. He looks more like his mother."
"Sharp kid?"
Sam managed a smile. "Yeah, he's pretty terrific. He's really grieving over this."
"Will he be here today?"
"Probably. I haven't heard from him. He's staying with Lee in Memphis," Sam said with a touch of pride. Because of him, his daughter and his grandson had become close and were actually living together peacefully.
"I talked to Albert this morning," Donnie said. "He says he's too sick to come over."
"Good. I don't want him here. And I don't want his kids and grandkids here either."
"He wants to pay his respects, but he can't."
"Tell him to save it for the funeral."
"Come on, Sam."
"Look, no one's gonna cry for me when I'm dead. I don't want a lot of false pity before then.
"I need something from you, Donnie. And it'll cost a little money."
"Sure. Anything."
Sam pulled at the waist of his red jumpsuit. "You see this damned thing. They're called reds, and I've worn them every day for almost ten years.. This is what the State of Mississippi expects me to wear when it kills me. But, you see, I have the right to wear anything I want. It would mean a lot if I die in some nice clothes."
Donnie was suddenly hit with emotion. He tried to speak, but words didn't come. His eyes were wet and his lip quivered. He nodded, and managed to say, "Sure, Sam."
"You know those work pants called Dickies? I wore them for years. Sort of like khakis."
Donnie was still nodding.
"A pair of them would be nice, with a white shirt of some sort, not a pullover but one with buttons on it. Small shirt, small pants, thirty-two in the waist. A pair of white socks, and some kind of cheap shoes. Hell, I'll just wear them once, won't I? Go to Wal-Mart or some place and you can probably get the whole thing for less than thirty bucks. Do you mind?"
Donnie wiped his eyes and tried to smile. "No, Sam."
"I'll be a dude, won't I?"
"Where will you be buried?"
"Clanton, next to Anna. I'm sure that'll upset her peaceful rest. Adam's taking care of the arrangements."
"What else can I do?"
"Nothing. If you'll just get me a change of clothes."
"I'll do it today."
"You're the only person in the world who's cared about me all these years, do you know that? Aunt Barb wrote me for years before she died, but her letters were always stiff and dry, and I figured she was doing it so she could tell her neighbors."
"Who the hell was Aunt Barb?"
"Hubert Cain's mother. I'm not even sure she's related to us. I hardly knew her until I arrived here, then she started this awful correspondence. She was just all tore up by the fact that one of her own had been sent to Parchman."
"May she rest in peace."
Sam chuckled, and was reminded of an ancient childhood story. He told it with great enthusiasm, and minutes later both brothers were laughing loudly. Donnie was reminded of another tale, and so it went for an hour.
By the time Adam arrived late Saturday afternoon, Donnie had been gone for hours. He was taken to the front office, where he spread some papers on the desk. Sam was brought in, his handcuffs removed, and the door was closed behind them. He held more envelopes, which Adam noticed immediately.
"More errands for me?" he asked suspiciously.
"Yeah, but they can wait until it's over."