Chapter 138
Norman, Oklahoma, 1955
A few miles outside of town, Elliott saw two police cars and the ambulance pulled to a stop along the side of the road. There was a cop in the road slowing down traffic and directing cars around what was apparently the scene of an accident. Elliott slowed, though he saw only one other vehicle, which was passed the scene now and speeding off into the night. Elliott looked around for the involved vehicle but didn’t see it at first, until after he’d passed the ambulance. And then there it was, in the ditch, so crashed in, he hardly recognized it.
Except he did. It was Marv Smoot’s old pickup truck, and from the looks of it, he’d rolled it pretty good. It was lying on its passenger side several feet down in the ditch, which was luckily dry right now. Elliott noticed Linda sitting in the back of the ambulance, crying hysterically, and Marv was with the police officers. At this slow crawl, Elliott could see blood trickling down Marv’s forehead.
His initial reaction was to be glad that they were both all right, but then it hit him. They weren’t alone in the truck. “Oh, Jesus!” Elliott whispered to himself as he pulled his car to a stop along the side of the road. Without thinking, he bolted from the car, running at top speed toward Linda.
The police officer who had been manning the road stopped him. “Son, you can’t come in here. This is an accident scene.”
“Where’s Reggie!” Elliott shouted at Linda, who was at least twenty yards away from him still. “Linda! Where the hell is Reggie?”
“Now calm down, boy,” the police officer, who looked to be in his mid-forties and tired from a long shift insisted. “We know the colored boy was thrown from the vehicle. We got folks searching for him now.”
Elliott ignored the degrading term used by the office and turned to see a couple of cops out in the field with flashlights wagging back and forth. At this rate, it would take forever. “Listen, he’s my best friend, sir. Please, let me help.”
The cop opened his mouth, but Linda just seemed to realize he was there and started shouting for him. The police officer stepped aside and let Elliott run over to the ambulance where a paramedic was bandaging up Linda’s arm.
“Linda! What the hell happened?”
“Oh, my God, Elliott,” Linda sobbed. “I told Marv he was going too fast, but he wouldn’t slow down. And the next thing I know, we were tumbling all over the place. I thought for sure we were all going to die. When we finally stopped in the ditch, I was so surprised to even be alive!” She started sobbing again, and Elliott noticed she had cuts and scratches all over her, and the sleeve of her dress was torn.
“Where is Reggie?”
“I don’t know!” She covered her face with her free hand. “When we stopped rolling, I looked over, and he was gone. He’d been sitting on the passenger side, and I was in the middle.”
Without even waiting for her to finish, Elliott took off for the field, shouting Reggie’s name. He had a flashlight in his glove box, so he ran back to get that, and then decided since the police officers were slowly searching the field on one side of the street, he’d check the other.
It didn’t take long for him to find his friend, but when he stumbled upon him about fifteen feet off of the road, lying near some shrubbery a few feet away from a barbwire fence, Elliott didn’t have to check for a pulse to know Reggie was gone. His neck was twisted at a shocking angle, and there was very little skin left on the side of his face the light illuminated. He shuddered to think what the other side might look like. Reggie’s brown eye looked up at the sky unblinking.
Elliott moved a few feet over into the bushes and threw up the contents of his stomach and intestines, continuing to dry heave for several seconds before he regained control of himself enough to signal to the officers he’d found his friend. Immediately, the paramedics moved in, their path illuminated by the police officers, but they realized quickly that Reggie Pope was dead.
As soon as the recognition settled in, Elliott turned and sprinted across the road, headed straight for Marv. Whether the officers truly didn’t know what he was up to or were just slow to react, it was hard to say, but Elliott managed to land several blows in Marv’s face before the police pulled him away. “You son of a bitch!” Elliott shouted as they dragged him away. “You drunk bastard! You killed him! You killed Reggie, you sick sack of shit!”
“Calm down, son,” the officer who had originally intercepted him on his way to Linda insisted. “Calm down. I don’t blame you for being angry, but none of that’s gonna bring your friend back.”
“Take some deep breaths now, boy,” another officer said calmly. “You let us handle Marv, okay? He ain’t gettin’ off for this. That boy was drunk as a skunk. He’s lucky the whole lot of ’em didn’t die.”
Elliott did as he was told and inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself, and despite his despair and rage, it did seem like he was beginning to slow his heart rate slightly. Linda was still sobbing, and the paramedics were all attending to Reggie now, so once he could assure the officers he was calm, he crossed over to her, and she rested her head on his shoulder and cried.
He stood there long enough for the emergency workers to bring over the body, and then, he and Linda both had to move aside. One of the officers slowly walked over and asked, “You say you knew the boy?”
“Yes, sir. He was… he was my best friend,” Elliott said, his voice catching.
“You know his name, then? We’ll have to inform his parents.”
The thought of what Mr. and Mrs. Pope would be going through shortly made Elliott want to vomit again. He held it back and inhaled through his nose a few times. Linda still had her head on his shoulder, though her sobbing had turned to hiccuping a few minutes ago. “His name is Reginald, Reggie, Pope. His folks live over on Third Street. If you take Walnut, it’s the second house on the left. Do you want me to….” The idea of going with the police to tell Reggie’s parents what had happened seemed unbearable, but he’d do it if the officers thought it would help.
“No, son, that’s okay. We’ll handle it. Thanks for your help. Miss Smoot, one of the officers can drive you home. We’ll need to inform your parents that your brother has been placed under arrest as well.”
“He’s under arrest?” Linda asked, as if it hadn’t dawned on her that her brother was sitting in the back of a police car.
“Yes, miss. He was driving under the influence of alcohol. He’s not old enough to legally drink in the state of Oklahoma, and he caused a serious accident that claimed a young man’s life. Those are some serious crimes.”
Once again, Linda was inconsolable, and for a moment, Elliott wished he could just drive her home himself, but he definitely didn’t want to be there when they told Mr. and Mrs. Smoot that their son had essentially killed someone. The officer extended his arm to the young lady, and Elliott guided her over, glad to be free of at least one of his burdens.
He checked his watch and realized he was out way past his curfew, but that was the least of his concerns now. The sound of the ambulance doors slamming shut had a bit of finality to it he wasn’t ready for, and he held back tears, trying not to think about Reggie as he headed for the Monterrey.
But once inside, it was hard for him to focus. Had it just been a couple of hours ago that Reggie was sitting in the passenger seat next to him, asking about girls? Now, he was gone. He’d never play football again, never pick off another pass. He’d never go to prom or graduate from high school.
