All the King's Men - Robert Penn Warren [28]
“Just wanted to hear you say it, Judge. Somebody told me, but you know how rumor hath a thousand tongues, and how the newspaper boys tend to exaggeration, and the truth ain’t in ’em.”
“There was no exaggeration in this case,” the Judge said.
“Just wanted to hear you say it. With your own silver tongue.”
“Well, you’ve heard it,” the Judge said, standing straight in the middle of the floor, “an in that case, at your leisure–” the Judge’s face was the color of calf’s liver again, even if the word did come out cold and spaced–“if you have finished your drink–”
“Why, thanks, Judge,” the Boss said, sweet as chess pie, “I reckon I will take another spot.” And he heaved himself in the direction of the bottle.
He did his work, and said, “Thanks.”
When he was back in the leather chair with the fresh load in the glass, he said, “Yeah, Judge, I’ve heard you say it, but I just wanted to hear you say something else. Are you sure you took it to the Lord in prayer? Huh?”
“I have settled the matter in my own mind,” the Judge said.
“Well, if I recollect right–” the Boss ruminatively turned the glass in his hands–“back in town, when we had our little talk, you sort of felt my boy Masters was all right.”
“I made no commitment,” the Judge said sharply. “I didn’t make any commitment except to my conscience,”
“You been messing in politics a long time, Judge,” the Boss said, easy, “and–” he took a drag from the glass–“so has your conscience.”
“I beg your pardon,” the Judge snapped.
“Nuts,” the Boss said, and grinned. “But what got you off Masters?”
“Certain features of his career came to my attention.”
“Somebody dug up some dirt for you, huh?”
“If you choose to call it that,” the Judge said.
“Dirt’s a funny thing,” t he Boss said. “Come to think of it, there ain’t a thing but dirt on this green God’s globe except what’s under water, and that’s dir too. It’s dirt makes the grass grow. A diamond ain’t a thing in the world but a piece of dirt that got awful hot. And God-a-Mighty picked up a handful of dirt and blew on it and made you and me and George Washington and mankind blessed in faculty and apprehension. It all depends on what you do with the dirt. That right?
“That doesn’t alter the fact,” the Judge said from way up there where his head was, above the rays of the desk lamp, “that Masters doesn’t strike me as a responsible man.”
“He better be responsible,” the Boss said, “or I’ll break his God-damned neck!”
“That’s the trouble, Masters would be responsible to you.”
“It’s a fact,” the Boss admitted ruefully, lifting his face under the light, and shaking his face in fatalistic sadness. “Masters’d be responsible to me. I can’t help it. But Callahan–now take Callahan–it sort of seems to me he’s gonna be responsible to you and Alta Power and God knows who else before he’s through. And what’s the difference? Huh?”
“Well–”
“Well, hell!” The Boss popped straight up in the chair with that inner explosiveness he had when, all of a sudden, he would snatch a fly out of the air or whip his head at you and his eyes would snap open. He popped up and his heels dug into the red carpet. Some of the liquor sloshed out of his glass onto his Palm Beach pants. “Well, I’ll tell you the difference, Judge! I can deliver Masters and you can’t deliver Callahan. And that’s a big difference.”
“I’ll have to take my chance,” the Judge said from way up there.
“Chance?” And the Boss laughed. “Judge,” he said, and quit laughing, “you haven’t got but one chance. You been guessing right in this state going on forty years. You been sitting back here in this room and nigger boys been single-footing in here bringing you toddies and you been guessing right. You been sitting back here and grinning to yourself while the rest of ’em were out sweating on the stump and snapping their suspenders, and when you wanted anything you just reached out and took it. Oh, if you had a little time off from duck hunting and corporation law you might do a hitch as Attorney General. So you did. Or play at being a judge. You been a judge a long time. How it would feel not to be a judge any more?