Chase The Wild Pigeons

by John J. Gschwend

  “Mr. Taylor,” Theo said, nodding. He placed his hands on his hips and smiled. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

  Confusion grew on Zeke’s face.

  Theo pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. “I can tell by the bewildered look on your face you are wondering just who this fellow is.”

  Zeke handed the scythe to one of the Negroes. “Stepto, y’all finish this field and we’ll call it a day.” Stepto nodded, and the Negroes went back to work.

  Zeke started toward the farmhouse without saying a word. Theo looked at Lucius—he was at a loss for what to do. Lucius motioned with his eyes to follow Zeke. Theo tailed Zeke, Lucius behind him. “Mr. Taylor, if you would just speak with me for a moment, I am sure you will find it worth your while.”

  Zeke stopped suddenly and turned. “Mr. Caldwell, nothing about you would be worth my while.”

  “But Mr. Taylor, you haven’t given me a chance to—”

  “Mister, you come walking up to my farm; you have no horse, no wagon, nothing. You ain’t from around here, so you had to come from afar. If you were an important man, you would be riding, not walking. You are too fat and soft to be accustomed to walking. You got this big Negro following you and that don’t look good. Either you stole him or you are trying to sell him. Either way I don’t like the looks of it.” Zeke turned and started walking, again.

  Lucius quickly realized this man was a hard man and would not be easily fooled. He tried to form a new plan, but before he could think of the first idea, Theo surprised him: “I was good friends with Doctor Taylor.” That wasn’t in the plan—not at all, but it would work if Theo played it right.

  Zeke turned, but said nothing, waiting for Theo to continue. For once Theo didn’t disappoint Lucius.

  “I worked in the store for him.” Theo looked sheepishly at his shoes. “I reckon you could say I was his right-hand man.”

  Zeke still said nothing.

  “To tell you the truth, Mr. Taylor, life was hard in Helena with the Yankees and all, and Dr. Taylor fetched me from hard scrabble—I tell you that for a fact.”

  Lucius couldn’t believe his luck. Theo was an actor of first rate. He had totally underestimated this fat ass.

  “Wilbur always did have a big heart,” Zeke said. He had loosened a little. “Yes, he did. What did you say your name was again?”

  “Theo, Theo Caldwell.” Theo bowed slightly.

  “Mr. Caldwell, I don’t have a big heart, and I am a busy man. If you want something, why don’t you come on out with it?”

  Theo seemed to have come to the end of his acting talent. He just stood there. Lucius begged his brain for an idea. He blurted out, “Massuh Caldwell, let us don’t bother Massuh Taylor no more. I specks we can scrounge enough food to go up to Pennsylvania.”

  Zeke shot a look toward Lucius, then back to Theo. “You aim on going to Pennsylvania?” He shook his head. “Mister, I don’t know if you give a good caring damn, but there is a war going on. I don’t reckon you would get far with that runaway. I’m damn sure you won’t make it to Pennsylvania with Rebel troopers on the roads between here and there.”

  Theo said, “He is not a run—”

  “Oh, Massuh Theo, let us not be lying to Massuh Taylor. He can see right through that there,” Lucius said.

  Lucius saw that Theo was at a loss to where he was going with this. He didn’t know himself, but he just let his mouth take him. “Massuh Taylor, please forgive Massuh Caldwell. We is just desperate. We wants to get to Pennsylvania. That where Dr. Taylor say we should go.” Lucius lowered his head. “That is before he die.” Lucius shook his head slowly. “He sho was a good man, a very good man. He sho was that.”

  Zeke said nothing for a long minute. Lucius knew he had said all he could; he hoped it would work. Zeke looked across the land, surveyed it as if he was seeing where he could put the Negroes to work next, then his eyes settled on Theo, studied him for a time. Theo said nothing. “You come with me,” Zeke said, then he looked at Lucius. “Boy, what is your name?”

  Lucius reckoned it was no harm in using his real name now—Theo had. “My name is Lucius, suh.”

  “You come along, too. I don’t want no strange Negro gabbing it up with mine while they are working.”

  ***

  It had been thirty minutes since Zeke had taken Theo into the house and left him on the porch. Lucius hoped Theo didn’t mess things up. He had convinced Theo the boy had plenty of money. Maybe that was a good enough reason to not screw the whole thing up. All they needed to do was find the boy. For that, they had to fool Zeke into believing they were good folks.

  Lucius heard a commotion from around the house. A little Negro boy came around the house shooing a sow and a litter of half-grown pigs. Those little pigs would be some good eating. They probably weighed about forty to fifty pounds each; he could easily carry one of them away, would make some fine eating down the road.

  Mr. Taylor came out of a side door and went toward the slave cabins. Lucius wondered about Theo. Mr. Taylor went to the door of the largest cabin. He stood in the door for a long spell talking to the Negroes inside. He left and went back in the side door of the big house. Shortly an old Negro man came out of the cabin and headed for Lucius. Not another boss nigger, Lucius thought.

  “Lucius, I is Seth.”

  Lucius nodded. It was probably best to say little, but listen a lot.

  “Marse want me to find you a place to bed down for the night. It won’t be much seeing how the Yankees burned down the good barn, but least you won’t be under the stars.”

  Lucius nodded again.

  Seth eyed him suspiciously. “Can you talk?”

  “I can talk.”

  Seth nodded his head one slow nod. “Well, then, come on along, gabby.”

  Lucius followed the old man to a shed, which was being used for a makeshift barn. It wasn’t much, but as Seth had said, it would keep him from under the stars. However, what was even better, he could see everything from there. It was located right in the middle of the farm. If the boy was around, he would surely see him from there.

  “Marse say to see is you hungry.”

  Lucius said nothing.

  After waiting a couple of minutes and getting impatient, Seth said, “Well, is you?”

  “I reckon I could stand something.”

  “Boy, lets me tell you something right here and now,” Seth said, pointing his finger at Lucius. “I ain’t in the habit of chewing my cabbage twice. When you is asked something here on this here place, you best answer.”

  Lucius thought about hitting the old fool, but simply nodded.

  Seth took him to his cabin. Lucius found that Seth was mild compared to his woman, Floy. She was a big fat woman with a big fat mouth. No sooner had he entered the cabin, she started with the mouth. Lucius reckoned it was best to just do what she said and say nothing himself. She shoved a bowl of grits in front of him. He didn’t realize how hungry he was. He ate like a starving animal, and the two stared at him.

  “You needs to slow down,” Floy said. “If you puke on my floor, you is going to clean it up. I won’t stands for no nigger to puke on my floor.”

  He wanted to slap her hound dog jaws. She was just a damn slave, yet here she was giving orders to him as if she were a master. He was stewing inside, but he just told her he would be careful, and he ate slower.

  When he finished eating, Seth took him back to the shed and told him to wait on his master. He wanted to tell the old man he served no master, but kept his mouth shut.

  He saw Zeke back in the field working, must have gone back out while he was in the cabin eating. He heard Theo’s loud mouth in the house. He was having a high time, laughing and carrying on. Lucius hated him for it, but at the same time, he was pleased that things were going well.

  Lucius backed up in a pile of hay and waited for Theo to come out. He hoped Theo was finding out about the boy, also hoped he would get food for the road; he was tired of scrounging
for food.

  A kitten came meowing up to him. He lay his big hand down and the kitten crawled in it. He raised it to his face, looked at the slit eyes. Cats had eyes that you couldn’t trust, never knew what a cat would do—they weren’t like dogs. A dog stood by you and helped you. He had a dog when he was a boy. It was the only good friend he ever had. Cats only wanted from you. They were like white folks—the only time they were nice to you was when they wanted something from you. The minute they got it, they turned on you. The cat nuzzled at Lucius’s nose. Lucius squeezed his hands slightly, and the cat’s eyes grew large. Lucius smiled.

  Oh, yes, surprise. Lucius had seen the same look on white folks when he had turned on them. They hadn’t suspected it—oh no, they had not thought the good Negro would do such a thing. He had seen the horror in their eyes—first surprise, then sheer terror. He smiled. At least ten white folks had known that surprise. He felt his iron fist tighten on the kitten.

  “I see you found my kitten.”

  Lucius was startled. It was the Negro that had been out in the field with Mr. Taylor. He remembered Mr. Taylor had called him Stepto.

  “He’s a purty little kitty, ain’t he?” Lucius said, as he set the kitten down.

  The kitten scrambled away from Lucius and up Stepto’s pants leg. Stepto pried him from his leg. “Why, Puss, he ain’t gonna hurt you. You is just a little kitty.” Stepto stroked the kitten, then turned to Lucius. “We is finished for the day and seeing how it is Saturday, Marse say we can play and sing round the fire if we keep it low. You is welcome to come around if you wants.”

  Lucius simply nodded.

  Stepto looked at him for a spell. “Well, you is been invited. Come if you want.” He rubbed the kitten as he left the shed.

  In just a few minutes, Lucius heard Theo on the porch laughing and carrying on. He was standing beside a white woman, Mr. Taylor’s wife no doubt. He took his hat off and bowed, then strolled toward the shed. The woman looked toward the shed and half smiled at Lucius, and then disappeared back inside the house.

  “Well, my good boy, this has been a delight, I tell you,” Theo said, rubbing his plump belly as he went into the shed.

  Lucius grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him against the wall. “Don’t call me ‘boy!’” Lucius hated the fat man even more. Theo smelled of meat. No doubt, he had filled his fat ass with good food while Lucius ate grits.

  “What goes, Lucius? The good lady was just—”

  Lucius punched Theo in the gut. Theo shot out a loud fart and doubled over. Lucius snatched him back up straight, realizing he, himself, was about to blow the game.

  Theo gasped, “You have got to stop handling me in such a fashion.” He straightened his hat and took several deep breaths.

  Lucius steadied Theo on his feet, while looking around to see if anyone had seen the punch. He saw no one. “You is right, Theo. That was foolish on me.” Lucius smiled. “You just smelled good with that smoked meat on your clothes; it just make me mad.”

  Theo raised a faint smile. It looked peculiar with him holding his belly in obvious pain. He reached into his vest pocket, pulled out a napkin, and handed it to Lucius.

  Lucius snatched it from him and pulled the folds open, revealing a large lean piece of pork. In two bites, Lucius had devoured all but a small piece, which he deposited into his pocket for later.

  “Ain’t that worth a swig?” Theo said with a growing smile

  Lucius grinned. “Yessuh, Massuh, I reckon it is.”

  Lucius pulled the bottle from the bag and handed it to Theo. Theo gulped and Lucius had to wrestle it from him. “Easy, easy, you keep up the good job and you will get more.” Lucius looked around and then placed the bottle back into the bag.

  Theo rubbed his mouth. “Well, they’ve asked me to come back to the house and tell them all about Helena.”

  “Did you find out about the Taylor boy?”

  “I will find out tonight, I’m sure.”

  “Plays it real good, Theo. Don’t let on what we’s up to.”

  Theo nodded. “They have a spare room around back. That’s where I’ll sleep. They say you are to stay here in this shed.”

  “That bees fine. You just find out about the boy.”

  It was growing late when Theo went back into the house. Lucius lay in the hay to try to sleep, wanted to get his sleep now before it was very dark, wanted to be awake when the night came. He placed his bag at his feet and covered it with straw.

  He was about to drift off when the sounds of Negroes singing and wagons rolling into the farm aroused him. The sound was too familiar, and sleep was gone now.

  The end of the day was a good time for most slaves—if there was a good time, Lucius thought. The hard day’s work for the master was over and the rest of what was left of the day was for the slave. They could work their small garden if they had one, or do work around the quarters to make life a little more bearable. But the best time was the ride in the wagon back from the fields or the walk. Lucius remembered it well. There was one time he remembered most of all.

  ***

  His mother had sat beside him in the rocking and swaying wagon. They had both been tired from the cotton fields. However, the ride from the fields had been pleasant because she had told him of his father again. He never tired of the story.

  “No, Lucius, your father was not a slave in Africa,” she had said. “He was a great king. He had peoples that tended him. He had his own slaves.”

  Lucius had studied on that. His father owned slaves. It would be better to own slaves than to be a slave. He was now twelve. He would be a boy prince and have his own slaves some day.

  “How did father come to America?”

  “Bad mens come there to Africa and catched him and some more of his peoples.”

  “If he was a great king, how did he get catched?”

  His mother pulled the rag down tight on her head and smiled at Lucius. “You see, Lucius, he had killed a great lion, and they had a big juba cause he had killed the lion. The lion’s spirit floated on over to the elephant.”

  “What is a elephant?” Lucius asked.

  “That bees a big animal—bigger than a bull, and he got a long nose and two long tushes that stick out in front. The Missus show me one in a picture book.”

  Lucius was wide-eyed. “Is that elephant bigger than Massuh’s red bull?”

  “Lawd sakes, boy, that elephant make four or five of Massuh’s red bull.”

  Lucius stared around in amazement. He never thought there was any animal bigger than the red bull.

  “Now that elephant done gone and told the monkey, and that monkey done gone and told some bad white mens, what was on a ship. Now the king and all his peoples done gone and drinked too much magic potion cause they was celebrating. The bad white mens just went right up and catched them.”

  “Didn’t they put up no fight?”

  “Oh—a—well, yeah, but they’s too weak from the magic potion.”

  The wagon stopped in front of the big house. The master marched to the wagon.

  Lucius was scared. The master was a bad man—a mean man.

  The master addressed Lucius’s mother, “Martha, you and the boy have been talking too much in the field, not enough work is getting done.”

  “Oh, Massuh, we is—”

  “Quiet, wench! I pay my overseer top dollar, and he is a good man. He would not lie. He said he has warned you, but he is too damn soft.”

  “Please Massuh, don’t whip me again.”

  The master slapped the woman across the face. Blood sprayed on Lucius. His own blood ran cold.

  “I won’t whip you.” He turned to the overseer. “Hang the boy up.”

  “Oh no, Massuh!” She held Lucius’s arm.

  The overseer cracked her across her back with his whip. She screamed, and it tore at Lucius’s heart. He pulled Lucius from the wagon. It was like a dream. Everything went slowly, but at the same time, it happened so fast. One minute he was in the wagon talking
about an animal bigger than the red bull; the next, he was naked, hung by the arms to a gum tree, his feet barely touching the ground.

  The master stepped up to him. Lucius wanted to scream, but something inside would not dare let him.

  “Boy, you will give me a good day’s work from your black ass.”

  Lucius saw his mother on her knees behind the wagon sobbing. All of the other slaves that were in the wagon were gone. Lucius didn’t remember seeing them go. It was like magic. Maybe they disappeared.

  “Are you listening, Lucius?” The master grabbed Lucius’s face and squeezed it hard. “You will be a good nigger, and this evening we will give you some reminders, so you don’t ever forget.”

  Lucius looked into the mean man’s gray eyes. “White man, I am a prince and one day I—”

  The man screamed with rage. He rammed his fist into Lucius’s belly. Lucius felt searing pain.

  His mother ran screaming. “Massuh, please don’t hurt my boy.”

  He grabbed her around the throat and began strangling her.

  Lucius wanted to yell, but he couldn’t even breathe.

  After long minutes the overseer couldn’t stand it and tried to pry the master’s hands away, but when the master screamed curses at him, he backed away.

  Lucius croaked with a weak breath, “Mammy, Mammy.” He knew the master would let her go before she died. But he did not. He held on even after she melted to the ground. Lucius did not cry. He felt something leave his body. He felt numb.

  The master stood over the body and stared for a few minutes. Suddenly he started screaming and began kicking the body. He was a mad man. The overseer stood back, wide-eyed. When the master finally tired of kicking her, he pulled his manhood from his trousers and pissed on her face.

  Lucius felt a fire kindle somewhere down deep. He was numb now, but he felt a small ember flame up.

  The master turned on the overseer. “Whip the damn boy before I whip you.”

  The overseer stumbled back, regained himself, and pulled up the whip.

  ***

  Lucius was wrestled from the horrible memory and back to the present when he saw movement near his feet. He held still. He saw an arm reach for the bag. He sprang around and came up with a small, black boy. Lucius had his large hand over the boys whole face and had the boy held so tight that the boy could only move his feet.