“What’s the right thing to do?” I asked.
“I can’t decide that for you,” he said. “You two have to decide that. And unfortunately, you don’t have a choice between a good option and a bad option. Each option is bad in its own way.”
“We can’t just do nothing,” I said.
“Why not?” Mr. Corbin asked.
“Because what Maddox did was wrong,” I said, “and because then he’ll be walking around laughing about how he got away with it.” At that point, something occurred to me. “And he might do it again.”
“Possibly.”
“We can’t let that happen.”
“Do you think he’d try it again?” Liz asked.
I had been doing most of the talking and was surprised to hear her speak up.
Mr. Corbin shrugged. “Like I said, it’s possible.”
“I just don’t want it to happen again,” Liz said. “I’m scared of him doing it again. I’m scared of even running into him.”
“You could always leave town,” Mr. Corbin said. “Can’t you go stay with your mother?”
“We tried that last summer,” I said. “It didn’t work out so well. Anyway, Maddox attacked my sister, and we’re supposed to go into hiding? That’s not right.”
“No, it’s not. It’s an option, nonetheless.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Liz said. “My thoughts keep jumbling up. Bean, what do you think?”
“The thing is,” I said, “if we don’t at least file charges, it will be like nothing ever happened.”
“Legally speaking, that’s true,” Mr. Corbin said. “If you do file charges, you can always drop them later, but bear in mind that these things sometimes develop a momentum of their own.”
“Well,” I said, “if we don’t want to pretend it never happened and we don’t want to leave town and go into hiding, we have no choice. We have to file charges.”
Mr. Corbin put down his paper clip. “Bean Holladay, how old are you?”
“Twelve. I’ll be thirteen in April.”
“You’re a little young to be making a decision like this on your own. Should you decide to proceed, you need your uncle with you from here on in.”
“He’s going to be mad,” I said.
“I’ll call him.” Mr. Corbin picked up the phone and dialed. “Tinsley,” he said. “Bill Corbin here.” He explained that Liz and I were in his office and that we’d decided to file charges against Jerry Maddox for the alleged assault the night before. He stopped and listened, then shook his head. “No, sir. It’s not my advice. They came to me, and I outlined their options, and they made the decision.” He listened again. Then he handed the phone to me. “He wants to talk to you.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Uncle Tinsley asked.
“We’re going to file charges,” I said.
“I thought you were going to drop the whole matter.”
“He’ll think he can try it again. And what if he does? What are we supposed to do then? Just let him? Hide from him? We can’t. So we’re filing charges.”
There was a long pause.
“I’ll meet you at the sheriff’s office.”
Mr. Corbin called the sheriff’s department and told them we were coming over. When I asked him how much we owed him, Mr. Corbin said he considered it pro bono. That meant free, Liz explained.
“So you’ll be our lawyer?” I asked. “Pro bono?”
“If you press charges, the state’s prosecutor becomes your lawyer,” Mr. Corbin said. “You won’t need me.”
“Oh,” I said.
The sheriff’s department was in a low brick building with a flat roof. The deputy at the desk didn’t seem particularly happy to see us. He called in another deputy. The other guy wasn’t smiling, either. He had me wait in the lobby while he brought Liz into the back to take her statement.
A few minutes later, Uncle Tinsley came through the door wearing one of his tweed jackets and his gray felt hat. He sat down next to me in the row of orange plastic chairs. We didn’t say anything. After a bit, he reached over and ruffled my hair.
Liz wasn’t in the back for long.
“How’d it go?” I asked when she came out.
“They took some pictures, asked questions, and I answered them, okay?” she said. “Let’s go home.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
By the time we got back to Mayfield, the school day was half over. Uncle Tinsley said, given everything that had happened, we might as well just stay home and unwind. A few hours later, we heard a car roar up the driveway. I went to the window and saw Maddox’s black Le Mans screech to a stop. Doris Maddox got out, more pregnant than ever, and slammed the door behind her. Liz was up in the bird wing, but Uncle Tinsley and I went out to meet Doris, who was stalking over to the porch.