had never let himself wonder what his life might have been like had his parents lived, but there was no way to avoid the thought now. His father seemed to be standing in the room with him. He stared at the handwriting, which slanted to the left. And at his birth date, which he had never known. He was a year older than he’d thought.
Oliver stood up and kicked the desk again, breaking another leg. He grabbed the broom and swept all the papers he’d piled on the table down to the floor. He picked up the little box that contained the dry nubs of Tammy’s teeth, dumped it on the hearthstone, and ground them into dust with his heel.
182
DOGTOWN FINAL PAGES 27/9/06 2:07 PM Page 183
The L A S T D AY S of D O G TOW N
He surveyed the mess he’d made, nodded once, and closed the door as he left.
When Tammy saw what had been done to her house, she shrieked and cursed so loud that she set her cows to lowing in fear. Judy, who had jumped back into the wagon and taken off at a trot, could hear her a half mile down the road.
The next morning, Tammy managed to limp to the
Allen farm. Puffing and sweating, she arrived before dawn, walked into the bedroom, and yanked William Allen out of a sound sleep. “You’re taking me to see the judge, and you’re taking me now.”
At the clerk’s office she demanded, “I want the
magistrate. I want to see a judge.”
“Judge Philpot is sitting in Salem,” said Mr. Saville, the elderly official whose back went up at Tammy’s demeanor and the unmistakable smell of cow that attended her.
“I got a case,” Tammy said, slamming her hand flat on the desk.
“Judge Philpot is sitting in Salem all week,” Saville said in a tense monotone. “If you give me the particulars, I will put the matter before him.”
Tammy launched into a long description of the wrongs that had been done to her by Oliver Younger. “My nephew’s son, no less. My own flesh and blood that I raised up by hand, and he bites me like a mad dog. I want my rights. I want him locked up. And that whore, Judy Rhines, too. I blame her for this. He’s too stupid to have thought it up. It was Judy Rhines.”
Mr. Saville copied the names into his ledger. “The judge will determine whether there is a case. I will have word sent to you.”
183
DOGTOWN FINAL PAGES 27/9/06 2:07 PM Page 184
A N I T A D I A M A N T
The moment Tammy realized that she would get no
satisfaction then and there, she spit on the floor and hobbled out, with Allen shuffling after.
A few hours later, Oliver stood in the very same spot facing Mr. Saville. In his clean white shirt and neatly trimmed beard, he was the picture of a serious young man as he handed over the will with a polite bow. Mr. Saville took Oliver’s testimony and said, “I must ask how you came by this document, Mr. Younger.”
Polly had been standing a few steps behind Oliver, her eyes on the floor. But at that, she said, “Oh, Your Honor, Oliver just had to get that paper for us. Tammy never showed it to him and we were afraid she’d burn it. We’re to be married, you see.” She blushed. “And I’m afraid she means to make trouble for us.”
“Don’t worry yourself, my dear,” said Saville, who liked being called “Your Honor” and thought her perfectly charming. “If Mr. Allen affirms his signature, the document will stand. And as for the special circumstances of its, uh, retrieval, I believe the parties can be made to come to an agreement.”
Polly smiled and Judge Philpot never heard a word of the case. Mr. Saville despised the Honorable Matthew R.
Philpot, who made no secret of his disdain for Gloucester, which he saw as a miserable backwater filled with criminals and fools. Rather than provide another excuse for him to dine out on the foibles of Cape Ann’s “characters,”
the clerk dismissed the charge against Oliver, accepted the will in probate, and made his decision known with a posting on the town hall door.
The name of Oliver Younger was published again a few
184
DOGTOWN FINAL PAGES 27/9/06 2:07 PM Page 185