I used to keep Frey’s deed of sale, the one I’d earned from Mr. Harrington after I’d tended his garden for a year, in my back pocket, but I’d stopped doing that when Mrs. Penn had bought me dresses to wear. I still had it, of course. It was upstairs in my room. But why should I need such proof? Why would a drunkard and a liar always be believed above my earnest statements?
This was the whole crux of why Tinkle Town and maybe anywhere else I tried to live in would never work for me. I would always be judged as unfit, a stranger, an unloved extra person, and probably even a dishonest one. There could never be a place for me. Never.
I removed myself from the officer’s clasp, then gingerly stood. “I will get my bill of sale, if you want to see it,” I said. “But then, it’s time for me to leave. I’m sorry, Frances and Carlo. I love you. I will always love you, but you have a home here, and I can’t stay.”
No words have ever hurt worse. The expression in their eyes was a bitter stab. The boys had trusted me, and I was letting them down.
Mrs. Penn, too. She was weeping. She knew I hadn’t stolen Frey. But she also realized that I’d reached my ending point. The fork in the road was tugging at me. Choosing another direction for my life seemed necessary, and she could see that in my face.
I wanted Officer Krugel to announce that he didn’t need to see the bill of sale. But, of course, he couldn’t. He was tied to legalities — not emotion, not trust, not even the understanding of a person’s character.
I glanced at the preacher. “Did you talk to others in the town before you decided to accompany this person to hunt me down? Did you bother to go to the jail where the documents from Judge Muffett are located? The judge issued a statement in the matter of my ownership of the horse. He also threw Mr. Barner in jail for contempt, because, you see, this man makes up fabrications. Anyone in the village would have told you that if you’d asked. But, perhaps, you prefer any drinking partner, even one who is a liar and a thief.”
The officer cleared his throat. “I’d like to see that paper, Shama. I’m afraid that I legally must ask to do so. And as to the matter of your words concerning this man, if there is truth in your words, then both of them will be dealt with.”
“If,” I said. “That’s exactly what I was talking about. Your doubt. If . . .”
The boys were wailing louder, and the doctor had stepped in to help Mrs. Penn with them, to keep them from running to me again.