A Lesson Before Dying by Ernest J. Gaines

about Jefferson, Sheriff Guidry,” I said. I knew they had discussed it, still I had to go through the motions. “His nannan would like for me to visit him.”
    â€œWhat for?” Guidry asked.
    They had discussed this too. I could tell from the way the fat man drank from his glass. I could see in his face that he was amused. So was Louis Rougon. I knew they were both betting against me.
    â€œShe’s old,” I said. “She doesn’t feel that she has the strength to come up there all the time.”
    â€œShe doesn’t, huh?” Sam Guidry asked me. He emphasized “doesn’t.” I was supposed to have said “don’t.” I was being too smart.
    â€œYes, sir,” I said. “She doesn’t feel that she can.”
    I used the word “doesn’t” again, but I did it intentionally this time. If he had said I was being too smart and he didn’t want me to come to that jail, my mind would definitely have been relieved.
    â€œWhat about that preacher in the quarter? Can’t he visit him?”
    â€œI asked her the same thing.”
    â€œYou did, huh?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œAnd what did she say?”
    â€œShe said there’ll be time for the preacher.”
    â€œShe did, huh?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œSo she feels that he has that much time, time for teacher and preacher?”
    The fat man grunted. Louis Rougon’s eyes showed that he was amused. Henri Pichot, next to Sam Guidry, looked uncomfortable.
    â€œWhat you plan on doing when you come up there—if I let you come up there?” Guidry asked me.
    â€œI have no idea, sir,” I told him.
    â€œYou’re not trying to play with me, now, are you?” Guidry asked.
    â€œNo, sir, I’m not. But I have no idea what I’ll talk to him about.”
    â€œI hear from people around here you want to make him a man. A man for what, at this time?”
    â€œShe asked me to go to him, sir. Her idea. Not mine.”
    â€œThat was not the question,” Guidry said. “Make him a man for what?”
    â€œTo die with some dignity, I suppose. I suppose that’s what she wants.”
    â€œYou think that’s a good idea?”
    â€œThat’s what she wants, sir.”
    â€œWhat do you think?”
    â€œI would rather not have anything to do with it, sir. But that’s what she wants.”
    â€œSo you think he ought to go just like he is?”
    â€œI don’t know how he is, sir. Believe me, Mr. Guidry, if it was left up to me, I wouldn’t have anything to do with it at all,” I said.
    â€œYou and I are in accord there,” he said. “But my wife thinks different. Now, which one you think is right, me or her?”
    The fat man snorted. He thought Guidry had me.
    â€œI make it a habit never to get into family business, Mr. Guidry.”
    The fat man didn’t like that quick maneuver. I could see it in his face.
    â€œYou’re smart,” Guidry said. “Maybe you’re just a little too smart for your own good.”
    I was quiet. I knew when to be quiet.
    â€œI don’t like it,” Guidry said. “And I want you to know I don’t like it. Because I think the only thing you can do is just aggravate him, trying to put something in his head against his will. And I’d rather see a contented hog go to that chair than an aggravated hog. It would be better for everybody concerned. There ain’t a thing you can put in that skull that ain’t there already.”
    I remained quiet.
    â€œYou can come up there,” Sam Guidry said. “But the first sign of aggravation, I’m calling it off. You understand?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œYou have any questions?” he asked me.
    â€œYes, sir. When can I see him?”
    â€œYou can come anytime you like. Not before ten in the morning, not after four in the evening. Any other questions?”
    â€œAny idea how