Tom Franklin’s “On Little Terry Road,” explores the concept of bordering on the edge of two paths. We follow the story of Dibbs, a deputy sheriff, trying to navigate an impossible situation. We see his struggle in both trying to internally define his relationship with Ferriday as well as cleaning up the mess she’s made. There’s a tragedy to their story. Ferriday is someone Dibbs feels obligated to protect, but the two of them teeter between something almost familial and something intimate.
The central conflict, of course, is the fact Ferriday has just shot two men she alleges tried to rape her. It’s difficult, as a woman, to read such a thing. Objectively, almost everyone recognizes and resonates with how terrible such an act is. However, there’s a certain camaraderie amongst women about this sort of thing. I’d be lying if I said I were not more inclined to believe Ferriday’s side of the story and forgive her actions due to my being raised as a woman. Still, the language of the story does seem to imply that her version is rather accurate.
This, however, is another line Dibbs must cross. When he decides to cover for Ferriday, ultimately killing Little Terry to do so, he crosses from a somewhat morally gray cop to a downright murderer. The question becomes, is it justified? This moral quandary is never answered for us as readers. As an author, Franklin leaves this question for the audience to ponder on their own. As with all works, everyone is bound to draw their own interpretation. I’ve always been appreciative of pieces that leave me with interesting questions—something to carry and work out as I continue with my life.