I Am a Fugitive from a Georgia Chain Gang!

XXVI. Out of Georgia to an Unknown Destination

C H A P T E R X X V I Out of Georgia to an Unknown Destination WENTY-FIVE or thirty feet ahead of me, I noticed a drug store and, anxious to get out of their sight, as I realized that if I would be out of their sight I would be out of their minds, I started to walk slowly toward it. Without looking back, I entered the drug store. It was a typical drug store with an "L"-shaped soda counter on one side and a cigar counter and cashier on the opposite side. Entering the store, I walked up to the short part of the soda counter that runs parallel to the street and ordered a chocolate malted milk. While I was standing there waiting to be served, in walked the two sheriffs behind me. They walked to the opposite end of the counter facing me and looked directly at me. I was panic-stricken and I strove desperately with every ounce of my nervous energy to control the muscles of my face so that they would not register the fear that was racking my body. The perspiration broke out on me in great drops. In a second or two I waswringing wet. I must get away from the steady, direct gaze of their eyes which was shattering my nervous system, soI changed my position at the counter by walking around to the center of it. This placed me even closer to the sheriffs 227 T 228 / Am A Fugitive and gave them a profile view of me, but I was not compelled to look directly at them. This act, I reasoned, would help me gain control of myself. The clerk deposited the malted milk in front of me and placed the check beside me. I had forgotten all about the malted milk and looked at it in horror as I instinctively knew that at that time I couldn't pick it up to drink it without my hand trembling as though I had the palsy. Without turning my head to look at the sheriffs, I knew that they were still watching me, debating in their minds whether I wastheir man or not. I must, I decided, pick up that glass and drink, and I must do it in a way that would disarm the sheriffs. My left hand and left side were toward the sheriffs. Summoning all my strength and attempting to mesmerize myself like the Hindoo priests of India, I slowly closed the fingers of my right hand (which, of course, the sheriffs could not see) and clenched my fist with all my strength, which movement tightens up every muscle in the hand and arm, and slowly brought my closed fist up toward the glass. This act gave me complete control over all the muscles in the right hand and arm. Boldly taking hold of the silver handle of the glass, I again closed my fist tightly around it and slowly lifted the glass to my lips steadily and calmly. Finishing the drink, I picked up the check, walked over to the cashier at the cigar counter, paid the check and walked out. All this was done calmly without one trace of hurry. Once in the street, without looking back, I walked toward the bus station, deciding to enter it and spend the Out of Georgia 229 remainder of the time in the men's rest room. As I turned into the bus station, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, that the two sheriffs were standing in front of the drug store looking in my direction. But somehow or other, my intuition told me that they had about decided that I was not their man. Then I heard the driver's welcome announcement, "All aboard!" and, in getting back in the bus with the other passengers, I could still see the sheriffs in front of the drug store. In a minute or so we were again on our way and the crisis was over. What saved me was the fact that I had bought all new clothes; had been freshly shaved; the manner in which I had answered their question and my seemingly cool conduct while under their close scrutiny, I hope they read this, as the laugh is on them. Once more the bus was swiftly on its way, but I learned from this incident that I...