by Hunter Jones
A twig snapped underneath someone’s foot. The sound came from the tree line to my left. Strange, I hadn’t noticed anyone nearby earlier. That was when I saw him. The next thing I recall, there was a nudge at first and then a hard kick. There was a sharp pain as he kicked the side of my body. Mold and the scent of damp earth surrounded me. I opened my eyes to see leaves and mud stuck to my hands. The moisture trickling down my forehead let me know I had cut my head in the plummet.
The boot kicked my side again and a velvet-tinged baritone voice drawled, “Get up, boy.”
“I’m not a boy!” I said as I attempted to sit up.
Blood dripped into my left eye. Looking up, I saw his silhouette against the sky. His hat cast a shadow across my face.
“Pardon me, ma’am. The way you are dressed led me to believe you were a boy.” He uncocked the pistol that had been aimed at me and placed the gun in his jacket. “Woman don’t wear them kinda clothes generally. At least not in these parts. Where you from?”
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. I hadn’t known of anyone to carry a handkerchief before. He stooped down and wiped the blood from my face. The scent of horses and dogs surrounded him, but in a sexy, masculine way.
“I’m from Atlanta,” I replied. “And don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ I can’t stand being called ‘ma’am.’ It makes me feel like an old lady.” The sun made me squint and the ground felt cold through my jeans. He was annoying me, disturbing the peace I sought in the midst of my pain. I touched my forehead to locate the spot from where the blood was dripping, concerned that I needed stitches. The soft breeze caressed my skin once again.
“You ain’t with the Union Army, are you?” He stiffened his back for a moment. His voice lowered to a whisper and he said, “They say that there’s women that follow them around. They even dress like men. I have never seen any proper woman from Atlanta wearing a man’s clothes. You don’t sound like you’re from Atlanta either.” He stood, shook out the handkerchief, folded it, and placed it back into his pocket. His eyes narrowed as he waited for my answer.
In the distance, I heard a mockingbird prattle its nonsensical song. “Men’s clothes? What in the world are you talking about?” I wiped my muddy hands on my jeans, then traced the cut on my forehead with my fingers. It felt as if most of my face was muddy. I must look terrible.
“You, woman. Your appearance is frightful; you are dressed like a man and wearing your hair pulled back, more like the fashion of a man than a style a woman would wear. That’s what I am attempting to question you about.”
“I’m just wearing jeans, a jacket, and boots like anyone else on a Saturday when they’re out running around.” Sitting up, I said, “Where’s my car? I think my phone is in there, but I could’ve dropped it when I fell.”
“Car? What the hell is a car? There ain’t no railroad close by here, miss. Now, surely you don’t have your own railroad car, do you? Phone. And, what exactly might that be?” Digging his boot into the dirt, as if growing impatient, he said, “What the hell is a phone?” It was then that I saw the twinkle in his eyes. He looks familiar. Do I know him? “Oh, pardon me. I never speak that way in front of a woman.” He reached down to wipe another trickle of blood from my forehead with his finger. That was when I noticed how tall he was. He had to be six feet two, maybe taller. And he sure had some long legs. “Ma’am, miss, missus, whoever you are…do you have a name?” The expression on his face let me know he was curious, but a cautious concern more than an interest.
“Of course I have a name. Maggie Pickett. Now, stop playing with me and get me to my car. I’ve got to get back to Atlanta before dinner,” I said as I attempted to stand but felt myself sway. Being unsteady, I returned to my knees.
“Well, I ain’t never heard of no woman named Maggie Pickett. But I do know of the Pickett family.” He placed his hands on his hips, then rubbed his eyes with his right hand. The mockingbird continued his serenade and, in the distance, a rain crow added his mournful tune. After hesitating, he continued his questions. “But I reckon they are doing unusual deeds and feats extraordinaire in Atlanta these days. The whole world has gone crazy. Guess you already know that. Why, anyone alive knows that, don’t they?” He moved his loose hat further back on his head. That was when I noticed his blond strands and those killer blue eyes that could get him anything he wanted.
He smiled and I realized he was absolutely gorgeous. His clothes were old and dusty. They looked like something from the 1800s. He must have been a movie extra or model. They shot a ton of films and commercials in the park; he had to be here for something like that. And, here I was, sitting on the ground with blood and dirt on my face. Just my luck. I get assaulted by the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen. But, if he kicked me one more time, I was calling my attorney. No one was going to treat me this way. I attempted to wipe the blood with the back of my left hand, more out of feeling self-conscious and confused than from any pain. A spasm shot through my stomach and I felt as if I would lose consciousness.
He looked at me and continued to talk. “Maggie Pickett. Maybe you’ll be all right if I can get you to Chattanooga.”
“What do you mean by ‘all right’? I am fine; just embarrassed. Now help me get up and find my car so I can get home. I’ll need to call someone about this afternoon’s headache too. It’s the worst one I’ve ever had. I’m wondering if it was a seizure.” Having said that, I reached into my pocket to get my keys.
He had the pistol pulled on me before I could think. The clicking of the trigger terrified me and I felt my stomach churn again. A cold sweat broke out on my face, and I felt it drip down the back of my neck. He whispered, “Now hold on. Not so fast. Let me see what you’re reaching for. Take it out of your pocket real slow like. And place the other hand behind your head. But first, stand up.”
Chapter 2
My throat tightened and I felt dizzy. Was I going to die today, out in the middle of nowhere in the Chickamauga Park? Killed and who knows what else by some actor or lunatic fringe nutcase? I placed my knees on the ground and lifted myself onto my feet. I was so unsteady from fear that I felt my hands and knees shake. The pain from my head was pounding as loudly as my heartbeat. It felt as if I would topple over at any second. I attempted to steady myself by placing my feet further apart than I normally would.
“Damn, you’re tall for a woman,” he said.
“I’m not that tall,” I snapped back before thinking.
“Now listen here. Until I know who you are and what you are doing in this area, I don’t want no backtalk. Understood?” he said as he moved behind me.
He pulled my jacket up with one hand, held the gun to my head with the other, and said, “No gun back here, so let me see what’s in the front pockets and under your jacket. Just move real slow like, and we will get along fine. Empty the pockets one at a time.”
I did as he said. My hands were shaking and it felt as if my knees would buckle. The nausea rose in my throat. Slowly, I took the car key from my right pocket, then removed the small bit of change from the left pocket.
“Give that to me, then open your jacket,” he said. I did as he said and he put the items in his coat. The scent of a burning fire wafted through the breeze. I noticed how very quiet the day was with the exception of a crow that cawed in the trees surrounding us. Maybe this was how people felt before they died. Every second and every heartbeat is experienced.
His hand moved to check the inside of my jacket and found nothing inside either pocket. I wondered if he knew how scared I was. His hand lightly ran over the outside of my shirt to graze my breasts. Next, he ran his hand down each side of my body and reached between my legs.
Moving back, he looked me up and down. He pulled his hat back down on his forehead, almost to his brow line. Then he smiled and said, “Well, you are a woman and you ain’t equipped with a weapon. So, we are off to a better acquaintance than I initially thought, Miss Maggie.” He pulled my keys and change out of his jacket.
“I do not know of any money with this certain design, but any money will get you somewhere in today’s world. And this thing, I do not know what it is. But from what I hear, they are making all types of contraptions and gadgetry up North and in Europe. Do you swear to me you are from Atlanta?”
Breathing a sigh of relief, I said, “Yes, yes, I swear to you. I am from Atlanta.”
“And you ain’t no kinda misfit dressed like a man?” He looked at me straight in the eyes as he asked the question.
“No! I’m just a normal girl. You are scaring me to death.” Saying that, I felt a tear roll down my left cheek and tried to wipe it away before he saw it. I was too late. He reached for another handkerchief tucked away in the left pocket of his jacket. As he waved it open, I saw the lace trim and the monogram sewn on it.
“Well, you got the girl part right,” he said as he winked at me. “Can you sew?”
“No,” I replied.
“Can you cook?” he said.
“No.”
“Girl, can you play guitar or sing?”
“No. No, I can’t do either,” I replied.
“What about dancing? Can you dance?”
“No, not really. I’ve never been able to get that drunk. I can do a few jazz moves, but that’s about it.”
A mischievous look crossed his face. “Miss Maggie, what can you do? It don’t sound as if you are fit for much of anything.” Then, his brows furrowed. Stepping back from me, he asked, “What on earth can you do, woman? You aren’t one of them women of the night that moved in after the war, are you? Are you staying in downtown Chattanooga?” He looked at me as if he was openly appalled. He was either a really good actor or a real nut job, no doubt.
“No! I’m a teacher,” I said.
He pushed his hat back with his pistol and said, “What exactly do you teach, Miss Maggie?”
It was in that moment I noticed that there were no cars, no paved roads, and sounds were in the distance except for an occasional bird and a trickling from a stream or creek somewhere nearby. His boots, jacket, and pistol were all from sometime in the past. I had seen clothes like this on display in museums and in movies. It is time for some quick thinking.
Looking him in one eye and then the other, I finally responded, “I teach about old stories and fables. We read on gadgets. Things like you were talking about…I’m a, uh, I’m a persuader. I, uh, uh… I entice people to read and study on devices and machines. Just like you mentioned before. Gadgets and contraptions. That’s what I teach students on. What about you? I don’t know anything about you. Why are you asking me all these questions?” I nervously ran my fingers through my hair and they got tangled in a mess of mud and leaves.
His left eyebrow raised ever so slightly and he said, “Thank you very much for asking, Miss Maggie. I am Garrett Cleighton. Most call me Dr. Garrett Cleighton. My true name is James van Lee, but Garrett Cleighton sounds better and more distinguished when I am working an audience. It’s more theatrical. Just call me James, though. That keeps my public life separate from my private life.” He paused and looked me in the eyes.
“Here, try a drink of this.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask. Opening it, he took a quick drink and then handed the flask to me.
The contents of the flask smelled sweet as I took a sip. The drink had the consistency of a syrup. “What is this?” I asked. It didn’t look or taste like alcohol, but I experienced a sensation as it coursed throughout my body, much like a rush after a shot of whiskey.
“Why, Miss Maggie. Surely you have heard of Cleighton’s Original Kaleidoscopic Elixir. It’s the finest medicine in all of the southeast, made by me, Garrett Cleighton, from an old family recipe. For whatever reason, people go in for all that and believe every word. ” He gave me that smile again and I felt my legs go weak. The alcohol on an empty stomach, combined with nervousness, had made me queasy. Nerves, fear, and hunger got the best of me and I felt myself falling again.
James reached to catch me before I hit the ground and said, “You’re going to be fine, Miss Maggie. I promise you that. Let’s get you out of the sunlight. Once you get a little food in you and a rest, you will be good as new. I reckon you are addled.”
“Addled?” I whispered as he picked me up and carried me to the tree line. Even through his clothing, I could sense how lean and muscular his body was. “What do you mean?”
“Girl, you ain’t right and you are talking out of your head. That lurch into the dirt must’ve done something. It’s rattled you and addled your brain a bit. There ain’t no person with a car unless it’s a railroad car, and except for maybe the President or somebody like that, no one else has their very own railroad car. Then there’s your phone talk and jazz talk, so I figure, well, you are either temporarily disturbed or just slightly out of your head. I don’t really know what you were like before we met. But I reckon you will be just fine eventually.” He set me down underneath a tree.
“Are you traveling by yourself?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“No husband, no man friend, or brother with you?” he asked.
“NO! Why all the questions, Garrett or James or whoever you are?” My burst of energy was too much. With that being screamed, I acknowledged the spasm and turned toward the trees. From the pit of my stomach, I felt the contents spew from my mouth while the sweat rolled down my face. I attempted to breathe deeply in order to calm myself. The rain crow sang from somewhere in the trees. The rain-drenched leaves stuck to my hands and I tried to clean my face with his fancy handkerchief.
After a brief silence, he walked over and placed his left hand on my forehead. “You don’t have a fever, Miss Maggie. Once you get some food and water, you will feel better. C’mon, let me help you get upright and on your feet.” As he helped me get on my feet, he continued to talk.
“Well, I reckon you must be a displaced person, miss. You are out of your mind from hunger. I am asking these questions simply because I ain’t so sure you are from Atlanta and I’m curious to find out where you do belong.” Once on my feet, he placed one arm around my waist and we walked further into the trees. I felt my heart pound wildly. Where is he taking me?
Chapter 3
As we moved into the trees, two dragonflies floated past us and a swarm of gnats buzzed around our heads. James continued to talk. “If you have no home, I may be able to use you in my show.”
“What do you mean when you say where I ‘belong’? I’ve already told you I am from Atlanta. And what show are you talking about?” It was then I saw the stream and felt a sigh of relief escape my lips. He was taking me to fresh water. He sat me on a rock in the sun, which was beside the stream. Next, he took off his wide-brimmed hat, rinsed it, then filled it to the brim with water. “Drink this, Miss Maggie, then clean your face and hands off. It will make you feel better.” I did as he instructed. The cold limestone water tasted better than anything I had ever had to drink before and helped to calm my nerves. I reached into the gurgling stream with his hat and splashed my face as he instructed.
“Now, about my show. First, I cannot believe that you have never heard of my traveling medicine show. We are known throughout the South. I am attempting to get some type of knowledge as to your talents. It’s just that, well, no offense, Miss Maggie, but you do not seem to have many attributes at all. You aren’t much in the looks department either…”
“I’m gorgeous! How can you say that?” I ran my fingers through my hair again. This time, there were no more leaves. I loosened the last tangle, glanced at my reflection in the stream, and thought, Well, then again, I’m not much to look at. At least not right now. I tousled my hair a little, then turned to face him, hearing the leaves rustle beneath me.
James looked down at his feet, swiped at something – maybe it was a bug – and said, “Now, no offense intended, Miss Maggie, but not every woman can be a beautiful, petite brunette with dark brown eyes. You are the size of some men. How tall are you? Five feet six?
With your chest, you’ll need a man’s jacket.” I didn’t know how to respond because my feelings were so hurt. Reaching out, he took a strand of my hair and continued, “You have the brown hair, but your face is too square, your eyes are too blue, and your chin too square. Not exactly the ideal rose of womanhood that most men take a liking to. That can be a crucial factor.”
He paused and looked at me, tousling his own hair. I was so thirsty before that I hadn’t noticed his long hair. Good lord, the man is a golden god and I’m out in the middle of nowhere with him. He adjusted his jacket and said, “As you may or may not know, your type of looks may not appeal to very many of the opposite sex.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I am a gentleman and I run a business. You probably know all this.” After he ran his right hand through his hair once more, he buttoned the top of his shirt together and said, “Frankly, I believe with a bit of fixing, we can make you…”
With that comment, I had heard enough. I threw the wet hat at him. If I was going to die out here, I was going out with a fight. “Now wait a minute. I am not going to allow you to openly insult me.” I could feel my blood boil and a blush heated my face.
The mischievous look crossed his face again. He chuckled, stooped to pick up his hat, and said, “But you are fiery. There is a bit of pleasure to be found in that…some will say.” He openly laughed and ducked as I threw a stick at him.
“I wish that would’ve been a rock,” I said and turned to face the last of the day's sunlight. Maybe I shouldn’t make him too angry until I find out what is going on here. I reached down and knocked some leaves off the bottom of my boots.
James shook out his damp hat and dusted the leaves and dirt away. He called out, “I’ll be right back.” He walked a few feet, turned toward me, and said, “Do not attempt to stand until I can assist you.” He walked toward the open meadow of the park, stood in the sunlight, and made a clicking sound with his tongue. From out of the tree line, three foxhounds, two smaller hounds, and a pale horse appeared.