“I’ll ring your gawdamn neck, you—” Gillis bent over to grab the bird. Tommie squawked and pecked his hand, sprang upward again, slashing long nails down the miner’s other leg.
Gillis kicked and shook Tommie off, then stooped over and swung his arm, knocking the angry bird sideways. Bonnie smacked at Gillis, and he threw back his fist punching her dead square in the jaw. She shrieked and stumbled back against the store, bouncing off the thick shop-glass windows.
Gasping, I pressed a darkening palm over my mouth, and my eyes fell back on Wrenna.
Unmoved, Wrenna stood alone in the street, barefoot, watching Gillis’s jeering face. Slowly, she turned to Bonnie and stared a moment before cupping a hand to her cheek and calling out an abrupt, loud oo-oo, signaling hens in danger.
Pressing my hands over my ears, I stepped back and tumbled into a man rushing out of the courthouse. Annoyed, he shoved me away. I drew my eyes back down to the Company store.
“Oo-oo,” Wrenna rang out once more.
Tommie stopped, tilted his head toward Wrenna and then back to Bonnie. Suddenly he flew up in a frenzy at Gillis once, twice, and again and again, pecking, clawing, and tearing at flesh, driving his long, sharp spurs into the man’s face, eyes, and neck, the blood squirting onto the sidewalk, splattering storefront windows and even the clothing and faces of surprised miners.
The men yelled and cursed, their voices vibrating throughout the town.
Staggering, Gillis turned in circles, stomping and clutching his head, screaming to shed the enraged bird. He dropped to his knees, trying to cradle his face, while the blood trailed down on his hands and arms.
The group of coal miners scattered, some into stores, others to Gillis’s side, shouting, slapping, kicking at the furious rooster.
Bonnie shifted her eyes to Wrenna, a mixture of awe and satisfaction in the widow’s gaze.
Feeling ill, I turned around and gagged, my bile threatening to escape, the sight of violence and so much blood churning, roiling inside. A hand gripped my elbow, startling me. “Inside, Honey. You don’t want to see anymore.” Mr. Morgan nudged me over to the courthouse doors.
But it was too late. I heard Wrenna’s musical coo-coo-coos. Drawn to the lyrical notes, I glanced back down and saw the blood-smattered bird rapidly toe-hopping away from the man’s limp body, racing off nearly in flight toward the young girl.
Wrenna scooped up Tommie, nestled him into the crook of her arm, and marched doggedly away from town.
Thirty-Five
Trembling, I stared up at the judge’s empty bench and picked at the fabric on my glove, pulling off a loose string, the horrors of Tommie and Gillis etched in my mind.
Mr. Morgan went out into the hall while I waited inside the courtroom. Except for the clerk, the courtroom was empty. Mr. Morgan was gone for a while, and I watched the clock, waiting. When he returned, the clerk motioned him up to her table, and they talked quietly while looking over papers. He nodded, not saying much, then came back to our table and said, “The judge is filling in for Judge Potter and he’s sitting a trial in his courtroom. He’ll have to reschedule our hearing.”
Disappointed, I could barely shake my head.
“I’ll get the new date to you as soon as I get it,” Mr. Morgan said outside on the courthouse steps.
I looked down to the Company store. A few men lingered, but there was no sign of Gillis.
“Mr. Morgan, wait. It’s about Perry Gillis.”
He grimaced. “I bumped into a friend out in the hall, and he said Mr. Gillis was in grave condition. The frontier nurse and one of the coal miners rushed him to the hospital. He’s lost a lot of blood. Not sure if the bird punctured the jugular. And now it seems no one can find Mrs. Gillis.”
I was troubled by the news, but also filled with a strange calm knowing for the moment, Gillis couldn’t hurt me. Not Guyla Belle, Bonnie, or Pearl, or other women he’d surely tormented.