East of Orleans

by Renee' Irvin

Rollins Hartwell gestured for Tom to come into his office. Tom pulled up a chair across from Hartwell’s massive desk. He straightened his back and said, “Mr. Hartwell, I’ll be brief. I know you’re a busy man.”

  Rollins Hartwell nodded.

  “I understand you’ve ordered Miles McCoy’s wife and mother off of their land.” Rollins Hartwell’s face turned red with irritation. He took a deep breath and exhaled, his eyes met Tom’s. “I have not ordered anyone off any place. The bank has no choice. Do you have any idea how long I’ve kept this thing draggin’ on? Don’t you think I hate this as much as anybody? Hell, Miles McCoy was a friend. I feel just awful, but there ain’t nothing left to do.”

  “I’m prepared to offer you payment.”

  “Suppose you tell me why you want to involve yourself in this?”

  There was silence for a moment. Tom looked up and said, “Miles McCoy is dead and there is nobody to help care for those two women.”

  “And the girl? There’s been rumors. Do you know where she ran off to?”

  Tom ignored the question. He stood up, pulled a roll of money out of his trouser pocket, and laid it down on Rollins Hartwell’s desk. “I’ve got five hundred dollars that I’ve saved up. Will that hold the bank off for a while?”

  Rollins glanced at the money. “I suppose that would help quite a bit.” A minute later Rollins had scribbled out a receipt and handed it to Tom. “Is there anything else?”

  “Nothing else. Except I don’t want Mrs. McCoy and her mother-in- law bothered anymore.” Tom turned to go out the door.

  Rollins cleared his throat. “Hold on, son. You never did answer me about what you think happened to the girl--what’s her name, Isabella?”

  Tom’s face grew warm. He turned and gave Rollins a cold stare. “No, but I intend to do everything I can to find out. And yes, her name is Isabella.”

  Rollins Hartwell stood up and watched Tom Slaughter walk out of his bank.

  Lila McCoy put down a ledger book. The evening sun had slipped behind the clouds and all that was left was a cold dark sky. Granny took the book from Lila. From the front porch of their cabin, they could see sprinkled lights of fire traveling across the valley and the white tops of the tombstones around the church below. Both women got up and went inside. Tick followed them to the door and then turned around and plopped down outside the door. Lila bowed her head and said, “I pray to the Lord somehow we will find a way to keep this place.”

  “We ain’t giving up,” Granny said. “We’re gonna get this note paid and then bring Isabella and her young-un back home where they belong.”

  A pot of speckled butter beans was boiling on the stove. The hog had been sold and there was not much left for the two women to eat. Granny heard a noise on the front porch and she bolted from her rocker and went to get her shotgun. The old woman opened the door holding the rifle in front of her. Tom Slaughter jumped back.

  “Granny! For Pete’s sake, what are you doing pointing that shotgun in my face?”

  “Oh, Tom, I’m sorry! But if you’d been a robber, I’d of done filled your britches full of buckshot.” Tom grinned. “Folks got to protect themselves.”

  “I reckon, but there ain’t no point in killing if you don’t need to,” Tom said. “Ain’t that right, Lila?” Lila forced a smile. “Stay seated. Don’t get up, I can pull a chair from the kitchen.” Tom lifted a chair from the kitchen, brought it into the main room, and sat down. “How you two ladies doin’?” Lila raised her eyebrows. “You doin’ okay? You got plenty to eat?”

  Lila glanced at Granny apprehensively and said, “No, we ain’t doin’ okay. Rollins Hartwell has run out of giving us any more extensions. We done sold the hog and all the soup and vegetables we put up last fall, is just about gone.” Lila tightened the shawl around her shoulders. Tom took Lila’s hand and stroked it.

  “I came here to tell you something.”

  “About Isabella?” cried Granny.

  Tom sighed and leaned up against the back of the chair. “You know, she left without a word to me.” The two women glanced at each other. “I know you two know where she went. I’m going to find out the truth, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Then why are you here?” asked Lila.

  Tom pulled a piece of paper out from his trouser pocket and unfolded it. He looked at both women. “I was at the bank today and met with Rollins Hartwell.”

  Granny’s eyes flashed. “No good land-robbing buzzard. He’s meaner than a black snake.” Tom chuckled and rubbed his temples.

  “That, Granny, he is.”

  Granny’s eyes focused on Tom. “Well? Is the old buzzard foreclosing on your pa’s place, too?”

  “No, Granny he ain’t.”

  “What’s on that paper you got there?” Lila asked. Tom smiled.

  “I’ve been working extra hours at the newspaper and I’ve been able to save a little money.” Lila looked at Tom with a wide-eyed expression. “I arranged to catch up the note on the farm. In fact, you are now a couple of payments ahead.” Granny’s eyes searched Tom’s face. The old woman’s mouth quivered and she smiled a grateful smile.

  Tears streamed down Lila’s face as she whispered, “Thank you, son.”

  Granny’s eyes narrowed. “You get a receipt from that thieving buzzard?”

  Tom laughed. “I did, Granny. I made you and Lila a copy, but if it’s okay with the two of you, I am going to keep the original just in case you misplace your copy. How’s Livie and Henry?”

  “They ain’t doin’ too good,” Granny said. “Seems every young-un in this valley has come down with the fever since little Henry died. I just hope that baby of Isa…” Lila shot Granny a hard look. The two women had confirmed Tom’s suspicions; his heart stopped. Granny took Tom’s arm and said, “Thank you again, son. Somehow we’ll repay you.”

  Memories of that day at the river flooded Tom’s mind. He felt Granny tug at his shirt sleeve. The old woman wrapped her bony arms around Tom and hugged him. “We love you, Tom.”

  “I love y’all, too. Don’t worry about paying this money back. I won’t have it.” He pulled some dollar bills from his pocket. “Here, I have a little money to buy some flour and a few items that you may need.” Lila twisted her apron in her hands and with tear- filled eyes, she hugged Tom.

  “Can I visit her?” asked Tom. “Or can I at least write to her?” There was silence for a moment. Lila’s face was expressionless. Granny’s eyes met Tom’s and she said, “I’ll tell her, son, that you been asking ‘bout her.” Lila looked up sharply.

  When Tom left, it was so dark they could barely see him getting into his buggy. The two old women smiled and waved, watching Tom disappear into the distance. They went back inside and sat in silence for a long while. Finally, Granny said, “That boy’s breaking my heart.”

  Lila snapped, “Well, what would you have had me say? If we told him the truth, we would have just broke his heart worse.”

  “Maybe and maybe not.” There was a long pause.

  “What do you mean by that?” Asked Lila.

  “You know very well what I mean, Lila Mae.”

  “If I’d of known, I wouldn’t have asked you, now would I?”

  “What if that baby belongs to Tom? How do you think he’s gonna feel when he finds out that we been keeping this from him all this time?” said Granny.

  Lila stared at Granny. “And what if it ain’t, just what then? No, it ain’t our place to go sticking our nose into something Isabella made us promise not to tell.” Lila examined Granny’s face. “All we can do is wait for her to tell him in her own time and in her own way.”

  Granny said softly, “I suppose.”

  Jules McGinnis did not seem affected by the crowds on Bay Street. He stood at the end of the catwalk with his legs spread apart outside his cotton warehouse. Jules was busy securing a business deal, turning only to speak briefly to the men, nod and smile at the women.

  As Jules turned away from a tall, bearded man to light a cigar, he
noticed a young woman wearing a very familiar bonnet. Jules’s eyes followed the young woman. Jules glanced back at the man. “Excuse me, Luther, I don’t mean to ignore you, it’s just that I think I see an old friend. If you don’t mind, can we have this conversation later? I’ll tell you what, go on over to the warehouse and tell Hoyt that I said to ride you over to Beaufort to look over my properties. If you’re serious about buying, I might just sell them to you. It’s a lot to keep up with and you can’t get good help anymore.” Jules mind raced, his eyes were searching for the young woman in the crowded street. He gestured with anxious hands, “Just holler at me if you decide to make me an offer.”

  “I will, Jules. I’ll come see you after I go to Beaufort,” the bearded man said.

  Jules ran across the street and then he saw her. It was her, Isabella. Jules walked up to Isabella and said, “I believe we’ve met before.”

  Isabella narrowed her eyes and searched Jules’s face. “Yes, I believe we have.”

  “That sure is a mighty fine bonnet you’re wearing,” Jules said with a coy smile. He looked around. “I don’t believe I see another bonnet on this street as fine as that one. In fact, I’d be willing to bet, that is, if—I was a betting man,” he smirked, “that there ain’t a bonnet in all of Savannah as fine as the one you’re wearing. A bonnet like that must certainly have come from Paris.”

  Isabella grinned. “I’m much obliged to you, Mr. McGinnis.”

  “Well, at least you’ve learned my name since we last met.” Isabella knew that Jules was flirting with her. She looked up at him and smiled.

  The ladies were strolling in groups of twos and threes, in silk stripped dresses with matching parasols to shield their delicate skin from the hot Savannah sun. “Afternoon, ladies.” Jules said as several smiled and nodded as they walked by, then he turned to Isabella. “Well, gal, I didn’t know that you were in town. Are you living here?” He glanced down at her hand and searched her finger for a ring. “Your husband must have work here?”

  “You think I’m supposed to have a husband, Mr. McGinnis?”

  Jules searched her face. “No, I don’t think anything.” He smiled. “I think we know each other well enough that you can call me Jules.” Isabella smiled. “What do you say, little lady?” Isabella’s face reddened and her pale blue eyes flickered.

  “I told you not to call me little lady. Can’t you remember a thing?”

  A man shouted, “Lady, get out of the way before you get killed!” A buggy galloped by, narrowly missing Isabella.

  Jules chuckled. He grabbed Isabella’s arm and pulled her away from the street. Her long auburn hair blew in the wind. Jules’s hand reached out and pushed her hair away from her face. “That temper of yours just about got you run over.” He gave her a slow smile. “I tell you what, considering that I almost saved you, what do you say we call a truce and I will try not to call you ‘little lady’ again. Is it a deal?”

  “Hey boss man!” Hoyt cried out from across the street. Jules threw up his hand and motioned for the ruddy-faced man in loose fitting pants and suspenders, to come to him. Hoyt hurried up to Jules. “I need some money I’ve got to take Luther Fowler over to Beaufort to see them sharecropper’s shacks.”

  Jules eyes lit with curiosity. “Well, he didn’t waste any time. I suppose he may be interested, but whether or not he has the money, I ain’t sure. Hoyt, what you need money for now?”

  Hoyt grinned broadly, exposing a gold tooth. He glanced at Isabella and said, “How you do, ma’am?” His eyes returned to Jules. “How you think I’m gonna pay those niggers?”

  “I thought we just paid them,” said Jules, looking puzzled.

  “We did boss, but we still owe that high yeller gal for caning them chairs. Don’t you remember?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Jules mumbled as he pulled out a roll of money from his trouser pocket. Isabella’s eyes widened. She wondered how much money Jules had in his pocket.

  Jules reached inside of his vest pocket and pulled out a cigar. He lit the cigar and turned to the voices of two women. “Good afternoon, Mr. McGinnis.”

  Jules tilted his head and smiled. “Afternoon, ladies.”

  As Annalee Hancock and Lucy Baker walked by, Annalee whispered, “Well, at least he spoke to us. That’s more than I can say for that woman he lives with.”

  “Annalee, did you see that fistful of money Mr. McGinnis had in his hand? What do you suppose he is going to do with it?”

  “I can’t imagine. Who is that woman he’s talking to?”

  “Lord, I don’t know.”

  “Did you ever find out if that woman he lives with is his wife?”

  “No, but I don’t believe he’s married to her.”

  “I don’t know what this town is coming to. Ever since the war, folks have just gone crazy,” said Lucy.

  Annalee checked her fob watch. “Walk faster, Lucy. We’re going to be late for the garden club meeting.”

  Jules stared at the receding ladies and then peeled off a small stack of dollars and handed them to Hoyt.

  “See ya this evening, boss,” Hoyt said as he walked off. Jules turned to Isabella.”You got family here?”

  “A cousin and my baby.”

  “I didn’t think you had a husband.”

  Isabella hesitated. “I don’t.”

  Jules glanced down and was silent for a moment. His voice softened as he spoke. “If you ever need an ear, I’m a good listener. I may be getting old, but I still know what’s going on.” Isabella smiled. “Look, my office is right down the street here on Bay. Come here.” Jules put his arm around her shoulder and leaned into her to show her where his warehouse was located. He pointed down the street. “You see the building with all the windows facing the river?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s where my office is. You ever need me, you come see me.” Isabella nodded. Seeing Jules made her want to go home. And she sensed that Jules probably wanted more than just to listen to her. But maybe not; maybe he only wanted to be a friend to her. Jules McGinnis didn’t seem to be the awful man everyone said he was. Maybe they just didn’t know him, she thought.

  A few days later, Isabella took a couple of hours off from work to go upstairs and rest. She had been working fourteen to sixteen hours most days and she was exhausted. Nell brought Elora in and it was time for the baby’s nap. Isabella took Elora from her arms, and lay down across the bed with her baby. The wind blew in from the shutters and she could hear the hawkers’cries of “King Cotton! King Cotton!”

  Isabella dreamed about Lettie and heard Lettie’s voice in her sleep. She tossed and turned and finally around four o’clock, Isabella woke up. She lay still for a moment, then realized that Elora was not on the bed. Isabella thought Nell must have taken the baby down to Kate’s. She heard voices outside her bedroom door. It was Nell arguing with Jesse. She heard Jesse raising his voice to Nell. Isabella jumped off her bed and opened the bedroom door.

  “What you waiting on?” Jesse said to Nell. Nell started crying.

  Isabella gave Jesse a disturbed look. “What’s the matter?” She turned to Nell and in a low voice said, “Nellie, don’t cry, it’ll be okay.” There was a long silence. “Will somebody tell me what’s going on here?” Shouted Isabella.

  Jesse looked at Nell. “Go ahead, you might as well tell her,” said Nell.

  Jesse took a deep breath. “Lettie came, got the baby, and took her out to the plantation.”

  “Who gave my baby to Lettie? Jesse?” Jesse’s eyes met Nell’s.

  “You can’t blame Jesse. Blame me; I’m the one that handed Elora to her.”

  “Nellie, why’d you do that?” asked Isabella.

  “I regret it now. It’s just that she came in here sad and everything.”

  “Sad about what?” asked Isabella.

  “Today was her baby’s birthday,” said Nell.

  “What baby?” asked Isabella.

  “Her baby, Laura.”

  “You mean the one that
’s dead?”

  “She ain’t got but one and it shure nuf is the dead one,” said Jesse.

  “You just came in here while I was sleeping and took my baby and gave her to Lettie? Oh my God, Jesse, drive me to her place.”

  Jesse raised his eyebrows. “We’ll have to borrow someone’s buggy. And I don’t know who that’s gonna be.”

  “I do! I know whose buggy we can borrow,” said Isabella. “Come on, follow me.” Nell was crying hysterically. “Quit crying, I’m going to get my baby, but Nell you just stay here. I don’t want to talk to you.”

  Isabella and Jesse rushed out the door and down the stairs. Charlie looked up from drying the glasses as Isabella and Jesse ran out the front door. Isabella stumbled on the steps right before Kate’s bakery. Kate saw them through the window, hurried outside and motioned for the two of them to stop. “What in the name of Mary are y’all in such a hurry for?” Kate said, dusting flour off her apron.

  “Lettie came and got Elora while she was sleeping.”

  “Where did she take her?”

  “Down to her plantation house.”

  “Oh Lord,” said Kate.

  “Yeah, Miss Kate, and dat ain’t all,” said Jesse with wide eyes. “Today is dat dead baby’s birthday of Miss Lettie’s.”

  “Is Lettie crazy, Kate?” asked Isabella in a desperate voice.

  “Crazy?” Kate nodded with a sympathetic expression. “Lord, child that woman is as crazy as Alice Riley.”

  “Who dat? We know her?” asked Jesse.

  “No, she’s long dead. But crazy just the same.”

  Isabella grabbed Jesse’s arm. “I know who will take us out to Lettie’s. Let’s go!”

  Kate looked at Isabella with concern. “Isabella, you be careful. Jesse, you watch out after her and let me know what happens.” Kate watched helplessly as Jesse and Isabella ran up the tabby stone steps to Bay Street.

  “Where we going?” Jesse hollered to Isabella.

  “It ain’t much further.” Isabella said, looking back at Jesse.

  “Ise been following you for months now and it ain’t been easy.”

  “Quit complaining, Jesse Rucker!”