Rainbow’s End

5

When we got there the DiVola bunch was out on the island, having a look, at the corpse — three firemen in helmets and plastics coats, their boat tied to a tree, a smaller one than the one I had braced the johnboat against, but sticking out of the water the same way on account of the rise in the river.

Mr. Santos called out to them: “If you’d put one of those helmets on him, kind of hold his head together, he wouldn’t be so messy to handle.” One of them looked up and said: “Hey, that’s a good idea. How about us using your hat?” That seemed to take care of that, but Mom chirped up real friendly: “You can wrap his head in a towel. I’ll get you one from the house.”

So she went legging it back, looking quite pretty in her dress and a coat she’d put on over it. She came back with a bath towel, but while she was gone they had it, back and forth from the island to the bank, about how they were going to do it. They decided to put Shaw in the firemen’s aluminum boat, which was maybe 16 feet long, with an outboard on the stern, but instead of using the motor, to put it in tow of my johnboat, with Mantle at the oars and a fireman in the stern, holding the bow of the skiff. They thought that would be better than using the motor, as it was only a hundred feet from island to bank, and oars would give better control. So, soon as Mom got back with the towel, that was how they did it, first tying Shaw’s head up, mumbling every second about what a mess he was. Then while one fireman got in my boat to grab the skiff, the other two picked him up and loaded him on. But by that time he was stiff, with his arms sticking up in the air, not a pretty sight, especially with the towel wrapped around his head.

There they came, bringing him in: first my johnboat with Mantle rowing and the fireman in the stern, then the skiff with one fireman in the bow, the third fireman in the stern, and Shaw stretched out in the middle with his arms sticking up. Mantle did a real neat job of pulling in to the bank, and Edgren grabbed the johnboat’s front end to hold it, while I grabbed the bow of the skiff. We tied both boats to small trees. Then Santos’ men stepped up with a stretcher like the one Jill had been put on and loaded Shaw on it, covering him with a blanket, though his arms still stuck up. Then they took him away. Edgren told Santos: “Put him in storage, but don’t freeze him. I’ll call the coroner myself, and he’ll take it from there. He’ll be having an autopsy done, and there’ll have to be an inquest.”

“Sure, sure, sure.”

Santos seemed to know about what would have to be done and followed his men up the path. Mom said: “Aren’t you looking for that money?”

“You know where is?” asked Edgren.

“Could be tangled up in that parachute. I know where it is, but I tell you right now, if you do find that poke, I’m putting in for the reward. I got it coming for showing you where to look.”

“We got nothing to do with that.”

“With that poke? Why not?”

“With the reward.”

“I want my cut, I’m telling you.”

“Tell the airline, ma’am.”

Mantle helped her into the johnboat, manned the oars again, and rowed around the island, first downstream a little way, then up on the other side until they were out of sight, hidden by the bushes. “Hey!” he called out. “Here’s the chute, looking at me.”

“OK,” Edgren told him. “Hold everything. We’ll be out.”

But he and the firemen had to figure out how they’d do it. They finally decided that the motor was out again; the propeller would foul in the parachute’s cordage. Then they saw they would need a line to tow the chute in with and asked me if I had one. I remembered a light cotton rope I used to line things up when putting in corn. When I got back from the house with it, Mantle had rowed Mom back to the river bank again. She was giving out once more about the reward. Nobody made any comment. Then Mantle rowed around the island again, up to where the chute was, caught on some snag in the river. The firemen had oars in their boat and followed behind the johnboat. Then Edgren, Mom, and I walked up the bank a short ways, past the head of the island, so we could see what was going on. One of the firemen reached down in the water, fished some cordage up, and made my line fast to it. Then they tried to haul the chute into the boat, but it slopped things up so bad that they gave up and decided to drag it. They rowed over to where we were, paying out my line as they came, and then started to haul. It was slow work. Out there in the johnboat, Mantle kept having to clear the cordage, when it would foul up. He would lean out of the boat, and once almost capsized. At last, though, he got things clear. The chute came out on the bank — silk with red and white pieces. It was no sooner on the bank than Mom started pawing at it, “in case that poke is in under it,” she said. But it wasn’t, and she nearly cried. “That means it’s in the river,” she wailed. “Being swept down to go over the dam. If it ever gets in the Ohio, we never will get it back! Never!”

Mantle kept staring at her, and Edgren asked my permission to spread the chute on my land, “to give it a chance to dry.” I told him, “of course,” and the firemen spread it over some bushes. It was now around nine o’clock, and I asked them all up for some early lunch. “I can give you hot dogs pretty quick,” I said. “With coffee and pie. They might go pretty good.”

The sheriff’s men had to go back, however, and the firemen were due downriver. They said goodbye to me and Mom, then putt-putted away. Going back to his car, Edgren told me and Mom: “We’ll be out later on in the day to ask more questions about it — if that girl is able to come. Around five o’clock, I’d say. So stand by. If you want a lawyer, you’re entitled to have one, and of course, if you don’t want to talk, you don’t have to.”

“Well why wouldn’t I want to talk?”

“I’m advising you of your rights. You killed a man. I don’t think you’ll be charged, but you might be. It’s not up to me to say.”

“Who is it up to then?”

“Coroner’s jury — they generally do as the state’s attorney says. But if we have reason, we can charge you too.”

“And that’s why I need a lawyer?”

“I didn’t say need. You’re entitled to one if you want him.”

“Well, that’s nice,” said Mom. “Here my boy kills that awful man, and now you’re fixing to lock him up.”

“Ma’am, I’m not fixing to do anything, except what the law requires, and right now the law requires I advise him. Which I’ve done.” And to me: “You understand, Mr. Howell?”

“I think so. Thanks.”

“And ma’am, you were a witness, so you must stand by, too. You’re entitled to a lawyer, and you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

“You mean I could be charged too?”

“It could happen.”

“With what?”

“We don’t know yet.”

That’s what he said, but before he said it he shot a look at Mantle who didn’t return it but kept his eyes on the ground. “Well I like that,” said Mom.

“Any questions?”

I didn’t have any. If Mom did, she kept them to herself, so the officers drove off — but not till I got them the rifle which they took with them, the empty shell still in the chamber.