“I talked him into going with me to see Doc Grasson tomorrow morning. He wants to sleep by his bed, uh, gun ‘till morning. I suggest you go on home, ‘cause Bully’s waiting, and I’ll git Jessie over to Doc Grasson’s in the morning.”
“Dalton, I can’t leave my baby overnight. He ain’t never been outta my sight overnight,” Alice Fae pleaded.
“Alice Fae, I don’t know who is in that room, but I know one thing, it ain’t the ‘lil Jessie that I know. Now, we’ll guard over him like he’s ours and git him to Doc Grasson’s in the morning. You go on, now!”
“Well, maybe it’s better if I go home to Bully by myself, anyway.” Alice Fae softened. “Miss Lillian will kill me if I don’t show up in the morning. What about school? What about his piano lesson tomorrow? What am I going to do?!”
Mavis spoke up, “Alice Fae, you go on to work and I’ll look after Jessie or whoever is in there. As far as schooling and piano, I say first things first. Let Doc Grasson look at him and tell us what he thinks.”
“Tomorrow, I’ll come straight from Miss Lillian’s, Mavis. I promise.” Alice Fae said.
“Now, git on down there and you and Bully work it out,” Mavis replied. She walked Alice Fae to the door. Alice Fae faded into the Mississippi autumn night. She headed toward the “mansion.”
Alice Fae’s head spun. She needed the night air and the physical demands of the distance to clear her head. She reflected on her life and how others influenced her. She hated the way she approached the world. Along with the overwhelming fear of disapproval and rejection, she harbored great resentment. Alice Fae possessed no language to describe her feelings. She had enough resentment to go around, but most of it was focused on Bully now. She could not get Mavis’s comment about not having sex with someone who was mean to you out of her mind. She never said no to Bully. Her inability to take a stand precipitated her early marriage, motherhood at thirteen, banishment from her parents, and the list went on. Her attempt to please everyone reduced down to her attempt to survive in the world. In all my relationships, I am either one up or one down, mostly one down, she thought. Her friendship with Mavis came closest to an equal relationship. Maybe that’s why she enjoyed spending time with Mavis. Alice Fae’s solace was Jessie. She sought refuge in his acceptance, hugs, laughter, and spontaneity.
Alice Fae lived in her head. She edited each feeling and thought, evaluated each situation, and imagined each future event, and then and only then, did she act. Alice Fae forced life through this mental meat grinder and the results was a kind of sausage to please. Alice Fae was sick of sausage. The gods have a sense of humor about such matters, however. Once aroused from the painless sleep of denial, we can never return. This is the purgatory of existence where we ride the fence. We’re not in and we’re are not out. The terrible danger is getting stuck in this place. The fence is uncomfortable, has sharp edges, and is unforgiving, yet it is the passage to freedom. Somewhere on the walk home, Alice Fae decided to make a stand. For once in her twenty-five years, she decided to place No in her toolbox of life. The scary part of saying No is you don’t know what will happen next. It’s this not knowing that is terrifying. It also is exhilarating. Alice Fae would be opening the door to possible terror and exhilaration tonight.
When Alice Fae approached the house, she could see Bully pacing back and forth in the living room. Her knee jerk reactions to Bully emerged, but she remembered her promise and focused on the whip-o-will in the distance. She took a deep breath and ascended the steps to the porch and opened the screen door.
“Bully, I’m home.”
“Alice Fae, you’ve done it now. You run off and tell the whole world our business and I get a bunch of niggers and that white trash Dalton showing up at my door with a shotgun!”
“You should not have whipped up on us, is all I can say, Bully.”
“I ain’t proud of that, but you didn’t have to go tell the whole county!”
“I didn’t know what else to do, Bully.”
“Where’s Jessie?”
“Something’s bad wrong with Jessie, Bully.”
“What are you talking ‘bout, Alice Fae?”
“He’s talking outta his head, like he’s someone else.”
“Alice Fae, don’t be messing with me.”
“I ain’t messing with you, Bully. It’s the truth.”
“Why didn’t you bring him home with you?”
“He was too out of it. Dalton is going to take him to see Doc Grasson’s in the morning.”
“Nobody’s going to be seeing after my boy, but me and you, Alice Fae.”
“Bully, I’m real mad at you.”
Alice Fae could not believe what she was saying. Her bottom lip began to quiver, and her skin blotched.
“What are you talking ‘bout, Alice Fae? Spit it out!” Bully stepped forward with his fist clenched.
“I ain’t backing down anymore, Bully. If it was just me, I might not be saying nothing, but it’s Jessie, too. I think Jessie is acting the way he is ‘cause of what’s been going on around here, Bully.”
“Oh, I guess it’s all my doing, huh!”
“I can just take it, but I don’t think Jessie can.”
“You’ve always protected that boy, Alice Fae. He’s going to grow up and be ruined ‘cause of your coddling him.”
“You’re too rough on him and me, Bully. I don’t know what has come over you, but you have become mean. ‘Specially, when your drinking that Wild Cat. I wish you wouldn’t drink that stuff.”
“You drive me to it, Alice Fae. Living with you is like having two kids. You’re scared all the time, fretting over Jessie and ignoring me, busting your ass for Miss Lillian and I git the crumbs off the table. When you want to talk to someone, you run down to Mavis, leaving me guessing what the hell is going on. Sometimes I feel alone as hell. Before I had Mr. John, now the only friend I can count on is Willard.”
“I feed you and give you sex.”
“Oh, great, Alice Fae—butter beans and dead fish.”
“What are you saying, Bully?”
“All I’m saying is, Alice Fae, everything you do is ‘cause you ought to not ‘cause you want to. I know you ain’t wanting me when we’re between them sheets. You know how that makes me feel?”
“Bully, I was thinking ‘bout what you’re talking ‘bout on the way home tonight. I ain’t going to have sex anymore unless I feel like it.” Alice Fae could not believe her mouth.
“You feel like it, now?” Bully smiled and reached for Alice Fae’s breast.
“NO!” Alice Fae blurted out. Her heart raced; fear and exhilaration mixed.
“Now, ain’t you are getting sassy! That just stirs a fire deep in my loins!” Bully advanced toward Alice Fae.
Alice Fae dug in.
“You just think you can have your way with me ‘cause I’m your woman or something? You’re going to treat me better or you ain’t getting none of me, Bully!” Alice Fae glared.
“We’ll just see ‘bout them apples, ‘lil woman!” Bully advanced toward Alice Fae, ripping his shirt off in the process.
“Bully, you stay put, ‘cause I came down here to talk ‘bout you and me!” Alice Fae retreated toward the fireplace.
Bully grabbed Alice Fae’s blouse and tore it open exposing one of her small breasts and frail frame. He lunged again, grabbing for her skirt, but Alice Fae managed to sidestep Bully. He plowed into the stone fireplace.
“Augh! Goddamn it, woman! Now you’re going to git it.”
Bully staggered to his feet. He was met with the now sassy Alice Fae who armed herself with an iron poker confiscated from the hearth.
“I told you, Bully! You ain’t getting none of me ‘till you treat me good!” Alice Fae came across with the poker catching Bully in his aching loins. Aching took on a whole new meaning. Bully fell to the floor. A flood gate of rage sprang from Alice Fae. She gained the advantage. She struck Bully time after time, and with each dull thud from the poker iron, she felt more em
powered and savage; one for: her mother; one for Miss Lillian; one for Jessie’s abuse; one for life in general; another for Mamma.
Alice Fae didn’t know why she stopped. It quit being fun after Bully didn’t move anymore, well, not as much. Alice Fae placed the poker in its stand and gathered herself together. She stepped over Bully’s crumpled body and straighten the house a bit. Look at that kitchen table, what a mess! Bully is such a pig, she thought. Well, Mavis said to get down here and work it out. Alice Fae wondered if Mavis had her methods in mind. She felt exhausted and spent. Alice Fae retired to her bedroom and locked the door behind her. Tonight, she would sleep in her bed or die. The whole world could sleep somewhere else; she was sleeping in her bed.
Willard’s Ring
Carl chuckled when he read the note. Why would the high and mighty banker, C.C. Bates want to talk to a bootlegger? Well, they do have a lot in common, Carl reasoned. A bootlegger and a banker live off others by skimming and taking a little off the top. They meet a need, provide a desired service, and satisfy a craving.
Carl pushed back his hat. He picked his teeth with an ivory toothpick. He would meet the banker, but on his terms. He scribbled a note: TOMORROW NIGHT. MUD CREEK BRIDGE. MIDNIGHT. He called Mizel into his office and instructed him to deliver the note to Bates.
“Where’s mamma, Dalton?” Jessie ask.
“Well, look who’s awake.” Mavis spoke with a puzzled look. “She went down to you house last night. She’s going to pick you up this afternoon.”
“I thought you and me might go see you buddy Doc Grasson this morning. You game?” Dalton spoke up.
“What about school?” Jessie questioned.
“I reckon a little hooky never hurt nobody.”
Jessie’s eyes lit up. No school and he’d be seeing Doc Grasson.
“Git dressed and git your books together, and I’ll feed you some breakfast,” Mavis said. She cut her eyes toward Dalton.
Jessie ran for the bedroom.
“Dalton, it ain’t going to help if Jessie ain’t acting crazy. Doc Grasson’s seen Jessie a thousand times. Hell, he birthed him,” Mavis whispered.
“Well, all I know to do is git him over there. Maybe I can tell Doc Grasson what happened last night. It’s over my head.”
Mavis fed Jessie breakfast and watched out the kitchen window. Dalton, Jessie, and Rover walked across the bottom toward Doc Grasson’s place.
“Jessie, who is Major John Pelham?” Dalton ask. He pulled a young stem of Johnson grass from the ditch bank and placed it between his teeth.
“A southern artillery officer.”
“Is that it, I mean, is that all you know?”
“I’ve come across him several times in Doc Grasson’s books. He fought under Gen. Jeb Stewart with distinction.”
“With distinction! That’s a twenty-five-dollar word for an old man like me, much less a puddle jumper like you.” Dalton reached over and raked his knuckles across Jessie’s head. Jessie laughed and ran ahead. Rover gave chase.
Dalton noticed Miss Lillian had all but finished the cotton harvest in the expansive field before him. Dalton knew he needed to be picking his own cotton today rather than throwing dirt clods with a ten-year-old and his dog. But Dalton thought, I’m sick of picking cotton. I can use the break. Besides, he was fascinated by the events that transpired last night. Load! Ram! Fire! Swab! Those words banged around in his head all night. Damn, that kid can lay down a field of fire. Dalton laughed to himself. That kid almost had that bed as hot as me and Mavis can make one.
As the land rose before them, Dalton’s mind drifted to the people who must have walked this same path: the Choctaw; the Spaniards; the Yankees; the Rebs; the slaves; the sharecroppers. He figured others would follow. Jessie and Rover waited for Dalton when he reached the road. An old peddler truck pulled over, and the driver talked to Jessie. Dalton reached into his bib overalls and pulled two nickels from his pocket. He bought two RC sodas. He gave Jessie one and he downed the other one. The rolling story pulled away and Dalton saw Doc Grasson’s house through the dust. As they approach, Dalton noticed the Chevy parked in the yard. Great! Doc was home.
Doc stood in his beloved rose garden when Dalton and Jessie approached. Doc Grasson acquired quite a reputation with the local garden clubs for his prized roses. He minimized the accolades, yet even an inexperienced observer could see his appreciation for the recognition.
“Howdy, Doc,” Dalton said.
“Now if that ain’t a sight. A forty-year-old kid and a ten year old kid. You’re short a dog. The two of you will wear one dog out.” Doc loved to rib Dalton. “What brings you fellows across the bottom this early in the morning?”
“Well, Jessie wanted to trouble you for another book or two, and I wanted to speak to you, man to man, if you could spare the time.”
“Sure, Jessie, you know where the library is. The door is open. Leave Rover on the porch and you help yourself to any book on the shelf. Come with me, Dalton. You can help me move a wagon while we’re talking.”
Jessie sprang onto the porch and disappeared through the front door while Rover took up residence in the shade of the swing.
Doc and Dalton walked toward the barn and Dalton related his concerns.
“Doc, I know you are close to lil’ Jessie, and I wanted to let you in on some strange things that are going on across that bottom, yonder. Do you think it’s possible for a body to be two folks at the same time?”
“Dalton, you ain’t making any sense.”
“I mean, could a person be one person and forget that he’s another, and vice versa.”
“If you are asking me if a person can have two personalities, the answer is yes. I’ve never seen it myself, but I’ve read about it happening. What’s all this got to do with Jessie?”
Doc grabbed the wagon tongue and Dalton provided the muscle. With a giant heave, the wagon wheels moved. Once the inertia broke, Dalton spoke.
“Doc, I don’t know much about nothing, but I believe lil’ Jessie’s got somebody else in him who comes out every now and then.”
“Dalton, that’s a pretty strong thing to say. I’ve been with Jessie more than once and never seen anything like that.”
“Last night, Jessie lost it and acted like he was fighting Yanks and stuff. No, that ain’t quite right He wasn’t acting like he was fighting Yanks. He was fighting Yanks! Said his name was Pvt. John Stark and he was under command of a fella named Pelham, Major John Pelham?
“Have you heard of him?
Doc directed the wagon to a side shed attached to the barn and centered the doorway with the wagon. Doc dropped the tongue and the wagon came to an abrupt halt. Dalton leaned against the wagon and caught his breath.
“Yea, an Alabama boy, Jacksonville, Alabama, who was attending West Point when the Civil War broke out. He returned to Alabama and joined the recruits of Benton County. Artillery was his forte. He rode with Jeb Stewart and became the commander of the horse artillery. He became the darling of the South. Folks said he embodied every good thing the South was about. What has all this got to do with Jessie?”
“Last night, I was talking with a kid who rode with John Pelham.”
“You don’t say.”
“Sure, as day.”
“What’s going on between Bully and Alice Fae?”
“They ain’t getting along. Alice Fae comes down to our place every other day saying Bully’s done whipped up on them. Me, Cleo, and Jarvis had a little meeting down at Bully’s place last night. We tried to put the fear of God in him. I don’t know how much good we done. He ain’t been the same since Mr. John died.”
“Does Alice Fae and Bully know you brought Jessie over?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Dalton, why don’t you leave Jessie with me today and I’ll see to it that he gets home this afternoon.”
“That’s fine with me. I just wanted you to know what was going on. I felt as dumb as dirt in a box over this situation.”
“Sounds li
ke you handled it as good as anybody could, Dalton. I would be glad to run you back over to your place.”
“No, Doc, that’s fine. I’ll just mosey back across there and get to the field.”
Doc Grasson walked Dalton to the mailbox and again thanked him for his concern for Jessie. After Dalton left, Doc retrieved yesterday’s mail and walked back toward the house. Rover greeted the old country doctor with a lick. Doc entered the front door.
“Jessie, are you finding anything interesting?”
“Yes, sir, Doc Grasson, I can’t believe the books you got!”
“Well, Jessie, when you’re old as me, you’ll have a lot of books, too, I’ll bet.”
“I just can’t git enough, Doc. I could read all day.”
“Listen, I had an idea. Remember me talking about poking around in that creek bed over at Brice’s Cross Roads? Why don’t me and you pack a lunch and head over that way and see what we can discover.”
“Doc Grasson, that sounds great. What about Dalton?
“I told him to get on home and git that cotton outta the field. I’ll take you home this afternoon.”
“Great! Maybe we’ll find a cannon or a wagon, or who knows.” Jessie bounced up and down with excitement.
“You can’t tell, that’s for sure. Come into the kitchen and help me put something together for lunch.”
Doc Grasson and Jessie placed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, fried peach pies, and some molasses bread into a gallon pail lined with a piece of white linen. Doc rattled around in the pantry and found an empty half gallon Mason jar and made a batch of sassafras tea. He threw a couple of gardening tools into the Chevy, and Jessie guarded the bucket from Rover’s curiosity.
Doc Grasson started the Chevy’s engine and Rover leaped into the truck bed. They pulled out of the driveway and drove north to Highway 348. When he turned right toward Guntown, Doc Grasson’s voice vibrated with excitement.
“Jessie, Highway 348 was called the Ellistown Fulton Road during the war. I get goose bumps thinking about Sturgis’s troops moving down this very road we are traveling!”
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