“As a matter of fact, ma’am, I do need to talk to their parents. Is Mr. Mayhew available?”
Bertie smiled. “Talk to them about what?”
“Well,” Deputy Lemon said, appearing to wait for a pause in the noise, “seems the little one was driving Mr. Mayhew’s dump truck, and it ended up crashing into the library.”
The room was suddenly quiet. Bertie tightened her grip on my shoulder. “And by ‘little one’ you mean my granddaughter?”
“If that’s who you’re holding. She confessed.”
Bertie turned me around to face her. “Is that true?”
“Yes,” I said, “but we have a really good reason.”
“We?” She turned to Benzer. “I guess you were in on this too.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Louise Mayhew! Have you lost your ever-loving mind?” Aunt Sophie wailed. “And with your poor mama in labor.”
“Can it, Sophie,” Bertie said. “Accidents happen. Or do I need to remind you of your marriage to Henry Porter?”
“Mother!”
“Deputy,” Bertie said calmly, “I’m sure Tucker will rectify the situation with the library at the first opportunity. But as you can see, we’re in the middle of an important family event.”
As if on cue, Daddy staggered through the swinging doors. His hair was going in all directions, and his face was the shade of biscuit dough.
“It’s a boy!” he announced. “Eight pounds, five ounces. Mother and baby are just fine.”
The room broke into applause and he smiled, giving us the thumbs-up for a moment, then disappeared back into the depths of the hospital.
Deputy Lemon handed a ticket to Bertie. “I’ll call on Mr. Mayhew on Monday.”
That was all I needed to hear. This time Monday, Daddy would be so happy about the gold, he’d probably forget all about the truck.
Everyone started to leave after hearing the good news, but Benzer wanted to stay, mainly to delay the conversation between his parents and Deputy Lemon. Bertie was able to convince him to get it over with.
Then it was finally my turn to go in and see Mama. She lay in the bed, looking tired and pale, but happy. “Lou, come and look. Isn’t he darling?” She held out a hand motioning me to the bed.
I peered over the covers. She was holding a small bundle, wrapped up like a mummy, against her chest. I wondered how he could breathe.
Mama pulled the thin blanket away from his face. “Hey, little guy. Meet your big sister, Lou.”
I stepped closer, and a tiny little face peered back. He had goop on his eyes, and his skin was blotchy; his dark hair was matted against his head, and for some reason, I wanted to burst into tears.
“Hi,” I whispered, my voice shaking, “I’m Lou. What’s your name?”
“We haven’t decided on that just yet.” Daddy’s tired voice answered from the corner. I’d been so intent on Mama and the baby I hadn’t even noticed him sitting there.
Bertie leaned over my shoulder. “Let me have that child for a second.” She gently took him from Mama, rocking him back and forth.
Daddy stood and came to watch them for a moment, then put a hand on my shoulder. “Lou, I hear you and Benzer had an accident today.” His voice was gentle, but firm.
“Oh, yes, we did,” I said, getting excited. “But wait till I tell you why. You’re never going to believe it.”
“Yeah, I’d like to hear how my truck ended up knocking down the library wall with a stump tied to the bumper.”
“Lou, Tucker? Can we save all this for tomorrow?” Mama leaned back against the pillows, wincing.
“Sorry, Lily,” Daddy whispered, going to hold her hand. “You just get your rest, now.”
“Okay,” I said, disappointed. “I guess tomorrow would be better.”
Bertie handed the baby back to Mama. “You sure you don’t want me to spend the night, Tucker? You’re awfully tired to be helping feed a baby at two A.M.”
Daddy smiled. “We’ll be fine.”
I picked up Mama’s hand from the bed and kissed it. “I love you, Mama.”
She put her hand on the side of my face, cupping my jaw. “I love you too. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
It was dark outside by the time we left. I practically skipped out to the parking lot with Bertie. Having a brother was already better than I’d imagined. I couldn’t wait to tell him the story about the time his awesome big sister found some gold and totally saved his house!
From the diary of Louise Duncan Mayhew
January 1864
Walter’s visit accomplished much. While Father would not hear Olivia and I speak of manumission, he did Walter the courtesy of listening. Father finally agreed to put the slaves’ freedom in his will, but it was not until Jeremiah and Dode promised to stay on, and swore not to join the Union. Olivia complaned bitterly that such an agreement undermined the issue, but that didn’t stop Jeremiah from his happiness. As for our other endeavors, Walter was not as supportive as I had hoped. Being away, he was reluctant that we endanger ourselves, and the fact that my father remaned unaware also chafed. Still, he did not forbid it.
I tossed and turned in bed, finally getting up at the first signs of daylight. I padded down the hallway to Bertie’s room and eased into bed beside her.
“Hey, Lou,” she murmured, “what are you doing up so early?” She had a scarf tied around her hair and smelled vaguely of Mary Kay moisturizer.
“I can’t sleep,” I answered. “When will Mama be home?”
Bertie yawned. “I believe they have to keep the baby at least twenty-four hours, so it’ll probably be this evening.”
“That late?” I sat up in the bed. “Bertie, I really need to talk to everybody.”
“What’s so all-fired important? Besides, if I’d stolen my daddy’s truck and destroyed the library, I’d be a little less excited to see my parents.” Bertie stretched her arms over her head. “Do you have a reasonable explanation, or should I just say my granddaughter’s touched?”
I threw myself back onto the pillows. “I have a great explanation. That’s why I need to talk to Mama and Daddy. Ooooh,” I squealed, “a family meeting. I’m going to call a family meeting.”
“Oh, Lord. You think that’ll help when your Daddy sees what you did to his truck?”
“Just wait,” I said, getting excited about the idea. “You’ll see. I’m going to call Benzer and Franklin and Patty, and get them to come too.”
Bertie yawned again. “Wonderful, that’s what we need. More people in the house.” She climbed out of bed and came around to my side. Grabbing my hand, she pulled me off the side of the bed. “You start the coffee while I find the phone. After breakfast we’re going to clean this house from one end to the other. People will be all over us like ants on a gumdrop.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. “But this time tomorrow, things will be very different. And I want first dibs on a maid.”
Bertie laughed. “Child, if you think you’re getting a maid, you are touched. Now let’s get ready for your brother’s homecoming.”
I moved the broom back and forth. I could see the hydrangea bush that was hiding our loot, and I had to make myself stay on the porch. I’d managed to get the diary and hide it back in my room last night, but I hadn’t had time to bring in the gold before Bertie made me go to bed. I’d already checked three times to make sure it was still there.
The city had sent out a group of workers to begin putting the library back together. They picked up bricks and hung a blue tarp over the hole where the wall had been, while Mrs. Hall flitted around like a bee having pollen withdrawals. I’d watched from behind the parlor curtains as she’d carried on with the mayor, pointing and waving toward our house. Luckily, they hadn’t come over to demand an explanation.
I stared at the hole in the yard. Even though it had given us the gold, I still hated that the tree was gone. My house seemed naked without it. Isaac had come by and managed to get the dump truck over into our driveway, so I
was hoping it was still drivable. I didn’t know how much the gold was worth, but paying lawyers, rebuilding the library, and buying a new dump truck seemed like a lot.
“Lou, quit lollygagging and get the front porch swept. People will be here any minute,” Bertie barked from the house.
“Good,” I yelled back. “Maybe they’ll bring lunch!”
Bertie walked out the side door. She had on her cleaning outfit—a pair of blue jeans, a crisp white shirt rolled up to the elbows, and a necklace made of large red beads.
“There’s some leftover pot roast in the fridge, Miss Martyr. Just don’t make a mess in the kitchen. I spent all morning scrubbing out the sink.”
I warmed up a plate in the microwave, then snuck it upstairs to eat in my room. Bertie had kept me so busy I hadn’t had time to call Benzer. I wolfed down the food, then climbed into my closet with the portable phone.
“Jailhouse,” he answered.
“Very funny. Why haven’t you called? Did your parents freak out?”
Benzer ate something crunchy into the receiver. “Sort of. Mama cried. She said I was going to end up a juvenile delinquent.”
“Oh,” I said, leaning against the closet wall. “What are you eating?”
“My own concoction, jalapeño and vinegar potato chips. They’re awesome.”
“They sound disgusting. Did they ground you?”
“Not yet. Dad said he would wait until he could talk to your dad. I told him that he’d know soon enough why we did it.”
“Lou, where have you gotten to? We’ve got to put the sheets on the crib!” Bertie yelled up the stairs.
“Coming!” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Listen, I’ve called a family meeting. I want to tell everybody tonight. Can you and Franklin find a way to get here? Bertie says Aunt Sophie and Patty are bringing Mama and Daddy home from the hospital. We can show them the gold and everything.”
Benzer ate another chip. “Yeah, I can be there. My parents said I have to apologize to your dad anyway. By the way, I checked out the gold online. You’re not going to believe what it’s worth.”
“What do you mean, you ‘checked’? If you told anyone, I’ll—”
“Relax.” Benzer crunched. “I did a search on Civil War gold. A site came up with gold pieces just like the ones we found.”
“No way!”
“Seriously. Guess what they get for one piece?”
“Louise!” Bertie yelled again.
“I swear, she’s going to dust and vacuum me to death. How much?”
“Eleven hundred and seventy-five dollars!”
“A piece?” I choked. “You have got to be kidding me. There’s thirty-seven pieces of gold in that box.”
“The way I figure it, it’s way over what you need.”
“Wow! Come early and help me figure out how to move the gold. It looks like it might rain, and I don’t want the box to disintegrate.”
“LOUISE ELIZABETH MAYHEW!”
“I’ve got to go,” I whispered. “Don’t be late. And bring the information about the gold.”
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
The rest of the afternoon crawled by. The doorbell rang every half hour, announcing someone holding a casserole at the front door. If they weren’t plying us with food, they were staring over their shoulders at the library construction.
“You sure know how to make news,” Bertie said, putting the third casserole in the fridge. “They still haven’t gotten over your impromptu news conference with the Knoxville television station and then you go and destroy the library. What are you going to do next week, toilet paper Pete Winningham’s office?”
I winked. “You never know. I just might.”
Bertie placed a hand on her hip and laughed. “Bless my heart! I think you’re getting to be right sassy.”
I put a hand on my hip, imitating her. “With you as a grandmother, could I be anything else?”
“They’re here!” Aunt Sophie’s voice blasted from the porch. “Come and welcome the newest member of the family!”
Franklin and Benzer jumped up from the dinner table. They’d been gorging on casseroles for the last two hours. Bertie and I moved quickly, beating them to the foyer.
Mama held the baby, while Aunt Sophie carried in a box of diapers. Daddy had one arm under Mama’s elbow, guiding her gently into the hallway. Patty followed them in, struggling under a huge flower arrangement.
“Mama, Mama!” I said, squeezing her around the middle.
“Don’t hug too tight, Lou,” Daddy said. “Your mama is still sore.”
“I’m okay, Tucker,” she said. “Let me hold my two children for a second.”
“I am so glad you’re home,” I whispered.
Mama stood hugging me with one arm and holding the baby with the other.
“Guess what?” I said. “I’ve called a family meeting.”
“So I heard. I can’t wait to hear your news.”
Aunt Sophie put the suitcase down on the steps. “Whew. I am worn plumb out.”
“Yes,” Bertie said, “just imagine how you’d feel if you’d actually given birth. Here, let me see him, Lily,” she said, moving to get the baby. “You and Tucker have been hogging my grandson all day.”
The group buzzed around, everybody taking turns holding the baby. I hopped from one foot to the other, anxious to tell everyone the news. Benzer and I had kept finding the gold a secret from everyone, even Patty and Franklin. We’d traded the Lucky Charms box for the slave chest and had brought it inside earlier. It was hiding in the parlor behind a wingback chair.
Mama managed to notice my distress. “Okay, everybody, let’s sit down in the den. Lou’s been waiting all day to tell us something, so let’s give her the floor.”
“No, no, not the den. Let’s go into the parlor—it’s for special occasions.”
“Oh, my.” Aunt Sophie laughed. “This is going to be good.”
Everyone settled in while Benzer and I went to stand in the front of the room.
“Goodness,” Bertie said, “I hope you’re not announcing your wedding plans. Even I think you’re a little too young.”
“Bertie, please!” Mama said.
I cleared my throat to speak. “Umm. Okay, here goes.”
Benzer and I walked over to the chair and, working together, lifted the slave chest onto the coffee table.
“Lou, honey, is that the box you’ve been working on?” Mama asked, taking the baby from Bertie. “It’s beautiful.”
I stood quietly, trying to catch my breath. Now that the moment was here, I didn’t know what to say.
“Go ahead,” Benzer whispered.
“What is it, Lou?” Bertie asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” I said to the room. “Everything is great.” With that, we opened the chest and sent thirty-seven shiny Liberty Head gold pieces spilling across the table.
Benzer threw both hands in the air like he was calling a touchdown and cast a huge smile at the room. “Ka-CHING!”
From the diary of Louise Duncan Mayhew
March 1864
A notice has been circulated in the area: “Any person who shall harbor or conceal any fugitive from service or labor, escaping from one state into another, so as to prevent his discovery and arrest, after notice or knowledge that he was such a fugitive, shall be subject to a fine not exceeding $1,000, and, on indictment and conviction, to imprisonment not exceeding six months, and shall forfeit and pay, by way of civil damages, to the party injured, the sum of $1,000 for each fugitive so lost, to be recovered by action of debt.—Fugitive Slave Act, September 18, 1850, 9 Stat. 462.”
I can hardly walk through town for my legs tremble so.
A stunned silence filled the room, then Franklin and Patty jumped to their feet shouting, “You found it!” We hugged and laughed, and I handed them pieces of gold. Franklin shook his head back and forth, saying, “Extraordinary, extraordinary.”
It to
ok a few seconds for us to realize that none of the adults were speaking.
Mama and Daddy were looking at each other, puzzled expressions on their faces.
Aunt Sophie’s mouth hung open. Even Bertie seemed to be at a loss for words for once.
Daddy finally broke the silence. “Lou, what is this about? Where did you get that money?”
The story came tumbling out, from the prayer for something exciting to happen to the Tate Brothers auction where we’d found the chest, and how I’d found the diary. Benzer and I explained why we’d used Daddy’s truck to pull up the stump and how we’d had to hide the loot again before Deputy Lemon saw it. Everybody got in on the story. Patty kept saying she’d helped dig in the yard, and Franklin nodded and smiled and generally acted like he’d known we’d find the gold all along. Thankfully, no one got carried away enough to tell about breaking into George Neely’s room.
Daddy pinched the spot at the top of his nose between his eyes. “Now, tell me again how you knew the gold was under the stump?”
I sat down on the edge of the coffee table. “The reverend’s last word was ‘Havilah,’ which Franklin found means ‘land where there’s gold.’”
Franklin beamed. “I just searched for it on the computer; it was really no big deal.”
“Anyway,” I continued, “that really didn’t tell us much. But while y’all were at the hospital, Isaac came over. As he was leaving, he sang an old song about an oak tree and its leaves being like Havilah’s gold.”
“So you decided to pull up the stump,” Daddy said. He was not looking as friendly as a person might, considering his house had just been saved.
“Well, yeah,” I answered. “We have to pay the lawyers, right?”
Bertie leaned forward and picked up a piece of the gold. She held it up to the light. “This says twenty dollars,” she said. “What do you suppose it’s really worth?”
Benzer grinned, pulling a sheet of paper from his front pocket. “I found a coin dealer online selling a piece just like this,” he said. “He was asking eleven hundred and seventy-five dollars. For one piece.”
Everyone sat still, digesting the information.
“Umm.” Aunt Sophie cleared her throat. “And how many pieces did you say are in that pile?”
Last in a Long Line of Rebels Page 17