“Parson,” she asked, “do you know anything about that man named Davis they are going to execute tonight?”
“I know a little,” the parson said.
“Well, I don't understand all this. I know that a policeman was killed. I know that there was a trial and the jury found him guilty. That's right, huh?”
“That's right.”
“Okay, so, then later they learned that some of the people who said he did it said they made a mistake that it wasn't him. That's right. Yes.”
“Yes. That's right.” The parson watched her eleven-year-old brow wrinkle. She looked at her feet and seemed to study, for a moment, the movement of the foot she was swinging back and forth. She tucked a loose tangle of blonde hair behind her left ear, looked up at the parson and continued.
“So, do you think this man is innocent, that maybe he didn't do it?”
“I think that there's enough question about it they should investigate it again.”
“Will they?”
“I don't know.”
She extended her upper teeth over her bottom lip and began to chew on it.“ Know what I think?”
“What do you think.”
“I think that he is innocent. But you know what else?”
“What else?”
“I think that even if he did it he shouldn't be killed at the prison. I think that because if killing a person is wrong then killing the person who killed a person is wrong. They should just keep murderers in jail. That's what I think.”
She looked up at the parson, cocked her head to the left, and said, “I'm right, right?”
The parson smiled. “You're right.”
“You know how I know I'm right?”
How do you know you're right?”
“'cause, last week on the sign in front of the church it said: 'There's no right way to do a wrong thing.'”
Amen, we were apparently thinking along the same lines:
http://reverendbitchsir.blogspot.com/
Posted by: Rev. Turner | September 26, 2011 at 12:25 PM