Boys Life

had it for me, first day of the month. Two hundred dollars in a white envelope with my name on it. ‘Sheriff Junior.’ That’s what he calls me.” He winced a little at the thought. “When I went in that day, all the boys were there: Donny, Bodean, and Wade. Biggun was oilin’ a rifle. Even sittin’ in a chair, he can fill up a room. He can look at you and knock you down. I picked up my envelope, and all of a sudden he reaches to the floor and puts his muddy boots on the table, and he says, ‘Sheriff Junior, I’ve got me a mess here to clean up and I don’t rightly feel up to doin’ it. You think you could clean ’em for me?’ And I started to say no, but he takes a fifty-dollar bill out of his shirt pocket and he puts it down inside one of them big boots, and he says, ‘Make it worth your while, of course.’”
    “Don’t tell me this, J.T.,” Dad said.
    “I want to. I have to.” The sheriff peered into the fire, and I could see the flames make light and shadows ripple across his face. “I told Biggun I had to go, that I couldn’t be cleanin’ anybody’s boots. And he grins and says, ‘Aw, Sheriff Junior, why didn’t you name your price right off?’ and he takes another fifty-dollar bill out of his pocket and he slides it down into the other boot.” Sheriff Amory looked at the fingers of his traitorous right hand. “My girls needed new clothes,” he said. “Needed some Sunday shoes, with bows on ’em. Needed somethin’ that wasn’t already worn out by somebody else. So I earned myself an extra hundred dollars. But Biggun knew I’d be comin’ that day, and he… he’d been stompin’ around in filth. When his boots were clean, I went outside and threw up, and I heard the boys laughin’ in the house.” His eyes squeezed shut for a few seconds, and then they opened again. “I took my girls to the finest shoestore in Union Town, and I bought Lucinda a bouquet of flowers. It wasn’t just for her; I wanted to smell somethin’ sweet.”
    “Did Lucinda know about this?” Dad asked.
    “No. She thought I’d gotten a raise. You know how many times I’ve asked Mayor Swope and that damn town council for a raise, Tom? You know how many times they’ve said, ‘We’ll put it in the budget next year, J.T.’?” He gave a bitter laugh. “Good ol’ J.T.! Ol’ J.T. can make do, or do without! He can stretch a dime until Roosevelt hollers, and he don’t need no raise because what does he do all day? Ol’ J.T. drives around in his sheriff’s car and he sits behind his desk readin’ True Detective and he maybe breaks up a fight now and then or chases down a lost dog or keeps two neighbors from squabblin’ over a busted fence. Every blue moon there’s a robbery, or a shootin’, or somethin’ like that car goin’ down into Saxon’s Lake. But it’s not like good ol’ harmless J.T.’s a real sheriff, don’t you see? He’s just kind of a long, slumpy thing with a star on his hat, and nothin’ much ever happens in Zephyr that he should be gettin’ a raise, or a half-decent gasoline allowance, or a bonus every once in a while. Or maybe a pat on the back.” His eyes glittered with feverish anger. I realized, as my parents did, that we had not known Sheriff Amory’s hidden anguish. “Damn,” he said. “I didn’t mean to come in here and spill all my belly juice like this. I’m sorry.”
    “If you felt this way so long,” Mom said, “why didn’t you just quit?”
    “Because… I liked bein’ the sheriff, Rebecca. I liked knowin’ who was doin’ what to who, and why. I liked havin’ people depend on me. It was… like bein’ a father and big brother and best friend all rolled up into one. Maybe Mayor Swope and the town council don’t respect me, but the people of Zephyr do. Did, I mean. That’s why I kept at it, even though I should’ve walked away from it a long time ago. Before Biggun Blaylock called me in the middle of the night and said he had a proposition for me. Said his businesses don’t hurt anybody. Said they make people feel better. Said he wouldn’t be in business to begin with if people didn’t come lookin’ for what he was sellin’.”
    “And you believed him. My God, J.T.!” Dad shook his head in disgust.
    “There was more. Biggun said if he and his boys weren’t in business, the Ryker gang would move in from the next county, and I’ve heard those fellas are stone-cold killers. Biggun said that by acceptin’ his money I might be