“Oh, I’m all done,” Howie said, pushing a full plate of pancakes aside. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”
Alabama Port seemed far less inviting than it had the night before. Darkness had masked the town’s permanent coat of grime, the drift of odorous litter in the streets. Howie didn’t care. He wasn’t interested in scenery at all—not with Lorene by his side. It was clear that every other man in town was aware of her beauty as well. Merchants and troopers turned to stare. Howie gave them all fierce looks and swelled with pride.
If Lorene thought he’d looked her over far too boldly the night before, she gave no indication of it now. She was obviously pleased that he was there, and linked her arm in Howie’s as if they’d known each other sometime. Her smile and open manner set Howie at ease. She pointed out buildings of note, the courthouse and the square, and, with a shudder of distaste, a famous hanging tree.
At last she led him down to the water, telling him with a sly little smile that she had saved this for the last, that Jones had told her this was what he wanted to see.
Howie marveled at the crowded levee, the maze of boxes and kegs, the dockside mixture of smells—the clean odor of new, stacked lumber, the dry scent of fat sacks of grain. There were smells he’d never known before, as well—coils of tarred rope, tattered canvas left to mold in the flats.
“If this ain’t something,” Howie said. “I didn’t even know there was that many ships in the world.”
“Oh, there are a lot more than that,” Lorene teased. “You ought to see the docks in California. Ships from as far as China and the Japans come in there.”
Howie looked puzzled. “Where’s that?”
“Way across the Pacific. And the ships that come from there have chimneys. The sails are all different colors instead of white.”
Howie shook his head in wonder. “I never heard of any such thing. Chimneys on a boat. Why they want to do that?”
Lorene shrugged off the question with a sigh. “Goodness, I wouldn’t know. They just do. I’ve seen it lots of times.”
Howie didn’t care. If that’s what they did in California, then they did. He looked at the tangled forest of masts, the clean wooden hulls. He couldn’t imagine how anything could be more exciting than that. He wished there were some way to stand on one—just for a minute. Jones had said he might manage that, but Howie wasn’t about to tell Lorene.
Lorene pointed out in the bay, and Howie thrilled at the sight of a schooner underway, its white sails swollen with the wind. It seemed to fair race across the waves.
The girl gripped his arm then, and leaned in close to his side. “I’ll be heading that very same direction ’fore long,” she said. “I guess I shouldn’t feel this way, ’cause there’s God’s work to do everywhere, but I won’t be sorry to leave. I’ve just got to say that.”
Howie looked at her, startled by her words. “You’re leaving? On a ship?”
“Oh, yes. Real soon.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back home, Cory. Back to California and High Sequoia. Brother Jones is going back, and I’m bound to go, too. I follow where my vows take me next. And of course I’ll be awful glad to get back home.”
Howie’s heart sank. He hardly knew this girl, but he didn’t want to think of her gone. “Yeah, well, I reckon it’s always good to get back. That’s a natural thing to feel.”
Lorene seemed to catch something in his words. She looked up at him with a gentle, almost sorrowful smile. “I’m real glad I’m getting this chance to talk to you some ’fore I go. Brother Jones has a lot of fine things to say about you, Cory. He says you’re—kind of a special person. That the Lord’s clearly favored you with His Light.”
“Uh, I don’t know nothing about that. Howie turned quickly to the bay. Talk like that made him feel awful funny inside. The thoughts in his head right then didn’t have much to do with God’s Light, or even anything close.
“It’s true, you know,” Lorene said earnestly. “If Brother Jones says it, you can sure believe it’s so.” She held his arm tightly, and Howie was surprised to see tears fill her eyes. “Oh, I wish you could just see High Sequoia. The kind of things we’re doing there. New ways to make life better. Things nobody’s dreamed about before, or not in a real long time. And peace—that’s the most important thing of all. This whole country’s full of sin and privation, men fightin’ and kiln’ one another, everyone going without food. And Cory, Lawrence is doing something about that. He truly is. Nobody ever thought it could happen, but it’s so. He’s bringing Rebels and Loyalists together. Asking them to sit down beside one another and work things out. It’s going to happen, too. The Lord’s put His hand on Lawrence, and there’s going to be peace in the land. You wait and see.
“If he can do that, it’ll sure be something,” Howie said. “Yes, sir, it sure will,”
Lorene was looking right at him; she caught his expression and the doubt in his voice. She stopped, and firmly took both his hands in hers.
“I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do,” she said evenly. “I know what you’ve been through, Cory. I don’t know exactly, but I can tell by how you talk, the look that comes over you now and then.” She paused, and seemed to come to some decision, “You mind me asking? About your eye? What happened to you?”
Howie tried to recall what he’d told Captain Ricks. It seemed like a good idea to keep telling the same thing.
“A shot from a cannon hit our bunch real close. I got a piece of hot iron.”
“Oh, how awful for you.” Lorene closed her eyes and took a breath. “I’m so sorry, Cory.”
I got off alive.” Howie shrugged. “A lot of the boys with me weren’t all that lucky.”
“I pray for all this nation’s soldiers,” Lorene said. “Whatever side they’re fighting for. I thing they’re both wrong. Killing is an evil thing to do, and it doesn’t matter which flag an army flies if that banner’s dipped in blood.”
“I don’t guess I can argue much with that,” Howie said. The girl made a lot of sense, he decided. More than she guessed, most likely. The things he had seen in the West made it plain enough that greed played a bigger part in the war than the slogans people shouted back home. Hell, you could see the truth of that right here. In Alabama Port. The way goods were pouring in and out and not a lot getting close to the troopers in the field or the folks starving out on the farms.
“Cory?”
Lorene cut through his thoughts. Howie saw a curious expression on her face. “I’m sorry, you say something?”
“You might—think this is a peculiar thing to say, I mean, seeing what I am,” Lorene said. “But I guess I got to say it anyway. Have you got a weapon on you? Right now?”
Howie was startled. “Well, yeah. I sure do.”
“Good.” Lorene set her chin in a firm, determined manner. “Keep it with you, then. All the time you’re in Alabama Port. I just hate weapons of every sort, but this is an awful place to be. Brother Jones says it’s right to go armed if your heart’s with the Lord. Especially in times such as these.”
“Thanks,” Howie said solemnly, trying to hide a smile. “That’s real sound advice.”
And especially if you happen to be a dead shot like Brother Jones, Howie thought. A man who felt bad if he didn’t hit a man between the eyes. He wondered if the preacher had told Lorene about their encounter in the woods. Likely not. It wasn’t the kind of thing he’d want this girl to hear.
Lorene led Howie past the docks and back west. Only a few short blocks from the center of town, the surroundings suddenly changed. Buildings and storefronts gave way to quiet streets, small frame homes set back among sycamore and oak. Lorene stopped before a narrow two-story house covered with green trumpet vines and fiery orange blooms.
“I hope you don’t mind walking me home,” she told Howie. “Especially since I didn’t even ask. Brother Jones doesn’t like us out alone. Even in the broad light of day.
“I’m more’n glad to do it
,” Howie said. He looked at the house with some surprise. “You live here? I kinda thought—”
“That I’d be at the hotel?” Lorene tossed her head and laughed. “Oh, my heavens no. Brother Jones would never allow that. Sister Amelia and I board here with Miz Laintree. She’s one of the faithful and awful nice. Come on, you’ve seen me this far, might as well take me all the way.”
Howie started for the front gate, but Lorene took his hand and led him past the house to a line of trees and shrubs along the side. Farther on, a door and a shaded porch appeared, and Lorene slipped a key in the door and walked in. Howie hesitated.
“Don’t stand out there,” Lorene said, stifling a laugh with her hand. “Just be real quiet. Miz Laintree stays up front and doesn’t hear real well, but she likely wouldn’t approve.”
“If you’re sure it’s all right,” Howie said. He peeked cautiously inside, then stepped past the door. The room was quite small; the wooden floor was scrubbed clean and there was a window with pale blue curtains. A cane chair that had seen better days, and a table with a lamp. One corner of the room held a bed; the other was partially curtained off, and Howie saw dishes and plates and a pantry for food.
“It’s not a whole lot,” Lorene said. “But it’s just right for me and Sister Amelia.”
“And where’s she?” Howie asked.
“Over at the chapel, I imagine.” Lorene took off her sunhat and fluffed up her hair. “Where I’m supposed to be, for a fact.” She grinned shyly at Howie. “Only really, there simply isn’t all that much to do. You know? We’ve got a few believers, praise God, but not as many as we’d like. Now you just sit right down and I’ll make us up some tea.”
Howie sat. Lorene busied herself with kindling at a little iron stove. She hummed to herself while she worked. Howie watched, taking in her every move. He couldn’t believe he was here, right in Lorene’s very room. Not that it made any difference, but he was.
He suddenly recalled he’d gotten up that morning determined to tell Jones he was leaving town at once. Well, there was plenty of time for that, Howie reasoned. A man who didn’t know where he was going didn’t need to hurry off.
Lord, she was a beauty! Every time he looked at Lorene he wanted to cry. And he was certain that she didn’t even know, didn’t have the slightest idea how she looked, what she did to a man. By God, his luck was running true. Alabama Port was plain full of girls raised on sin— and he had to find the only one in town likely pure as new snow!
“There now.” Lorene set cups on the table, found a straight chair by the wall, and placed it across from Howie.
“I hope the tea’s all right. I’ve got a little bit of sugar if you want.”
“No, this is just fine.” Howie took a sip and burned his mouth. He quickly set the cup down.
Lorene didn’t seem to notice. “You haven’t told me where you’re from. All right if I ask?”
“Up north of here and east,” Howie said. “Arkansas Territory.” It wasn’t much of a lie; Tennessee was just a border away from Arkansas. Still, he felt bad about deceiving Lorene.
“You live in a town?”
“No, we was out on a farm.”
“Oh, now how about that?” Lorene brightened. come from a farm too, Cory. Up in the Dakotas.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Your folks still there?”
“They—they both passed on,” Howie said. “A few years back.”
Lorene looked pained. “I’m awful sorry ’bout that.” She reached out to touch his hand. “A person’s kin are ’bout the most important thing a— Oh, Lord!”
Lorene’s hand hit Howie’s cup and tipped it right into her lap. The cup hit the floor and shattered; Lorene jumped up, wiping frantically at her skirt.
“You—hey, you all right?” Howie backed off in alarm. He wasn’t sure what to do. “You burned bad?”
“Just—just a little.” Lorene looked shaken. She kept patting at her skirt, as if this action might make the problem simply go away.
“Cory, I—I’m going to have to get out of this— garment, I’m afraid.” Her face colored just saying the words aloud.
“I’ll step out back,” Howie said quickly, moving toward the door. “You call me when you—”
“No, no, wait.” Lorene nervously chewed her lip. She ran a hand across her cheek. “You better not do that. Miz Laintree, if she was to go out in the garden or anything.” She blew out a breath. “Oh, what am I thinking about? Just turn around, Cory. I won’t be a minute getting into something else,”
Howie looked alarmed.
“Cory, it’s all right,” Lorene said. “Just do it.”
Howie looked at the wall. He could hear the dry rustle of clothing at his back. He could hear Lorene moving about. He tried not to think about sounds. The room seemed a great deal warmer than he recalled. He wondered if humming might help. If he did it loud enough he couldn’t hear. Oh Lord, that wouldn’t work at all. The girl would think he was a fool.
“Cory …”
“Uh-huh?”
“Cory” … Lorene’s voice sounded funny. As if something was caught in her throat. “Cory, you’re going to think I’m just awful. I—I can’t help it. I don’t know what to do.”
“What’s wrong, Lorene?”
“Me. That’s what’s wrong.” Her voice broke again.
“Cory, something terrible is happening in my head. I think I’m caught up in sin.”
“Huh?” Howie swallowed hard. “Well—how caught up do you think you are, Lorene?”
“I guess a whole lot. I never felt anything like this before. Cory, what’s in my head is I want you to—turn around. I shouldn’t and I know it’s wrong. God forgive my weakness but that’s what I think I got to do.”
Howie drew in a breath. “Are you sure, Lorene?”
“I’m real sure, Cory. Just turn around. Please. This is something that can’t be stopped. It’s just got to happen is all.”
Howie turned. Lorene stood halfway across the room. The white dress was on the floor. She wore a thin cotton garment Howie figured was underwear. He knew she was naked underneath. The garment started just above the swell of her breasts and ended right above her knees. Her legs were longer than he’d imagined; it looked as if they went on forever and didn’t stop. She held her hands behind her back, like a little girl caught being bad. Her hair fell over one eye. She wouldn’t look right at him; tears rolled down her cheeks, and she looked all frightened and shy, and something else besides that.
“Oh, God,” Howie said. “You’re pretty as you can be, Lorene.”
“I’m shameful is what I am,” Lorene said. “But I can’t help that, ’cause Satan’s flat got me in his grip. Come over here, Cory.”
It seemed a long way across the room. His legs didn’t want to work right. Lorene looked at him then and raised her hands up high, and Howie thought sure she was going to pray. Instead, she found his shoulders and slid her hands around his neck and drew him close. A sob started in her throat and her whole body trembled in his arms. Howie held her cheeks and kissed her. He was dizzy with the smell of her skin, the heady perfume of her hair. His hand found the curve of her back. He knew he had to be dreaming all this; it couldn’t be happening for real.
“Lorene,” Howie said, “you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me.’
“Oh, Cory, yes I do,” Lorene moaned, “I can’t help it but I do!”
Howie dropped his hands to her hips. His fingers burned at the touch. He found the bottom of the shift and slid it up across her waist. Lorene gripped his hands and helped, slipping the garment swiftly over her head, shaking her hair free.
Howie’s mouth was dust-dry. He marveled at the way the sun filtered through the curtains and kissed her skin a dusty shade of gold. Her hard little breasts were set high and wide apart. He reached up and touched them with his hands.
Lorene gasped and closed her eyes. “Cory,” she said calmly, “I reckon we’re going to sin a little more. I don�
�t see how we can stop.”
“I don’t rightly see how we can,” Howie said. “That’d be awful hard to do.”
Lorene sighed. “Well, if we are we might as well get to it. Thinking about it’s just as bad as the wicked act itself….”
CHAPTER TEN
As the day began to fade, shadows lazed across the dirt street to climb broken board fences and unpainted walls. Harsh points of sunlight flashed through the foliage overhead. Locusts chattered in the trees, in the overgrown yards and the gardens gone to seed. Little else stirred in the sultry afternoon.
Howie was fairly sure he hadn’t come this way before. He had no idea where he was and didn’t care. His head was full of Lorene. The sweet taste of her flesh was in his mouth. He could smell the scent of her hair, feel the delicious pressure of her legs across his hack, see her lips stretched tight in the joy of release.
He stopped abruptly in the street, stunned by the pictures in his head. God A’mighty, he wanted to turn right around and go back to her again! Start all over and love her till he flat passed out or maybe died. Hell, dying wouldn’t be bad at all. Not if he could feel her jerk against him once more, hear her ragged cries of delight.
Howie grew hard as a rock at the thought. Lorene hadn’t wanted him to go. Her eyes had filled with tears and she’d said she didn’t want him to stop. Not ever. She had looked right at him and said the words aloud, and Howie had stared at her naked in the afternoon light and taken her again. And that was the best time of all, both of them laughing and crying and loving each other hard and fast in the thrill of desperation, Lorene saying Sister Amelia might walk right in and all the time drawing Howie deeper inside.
Finally, she had helped him to find his clothes and said they’d made enough noise to give poor Miz Laintree a stroke, and Howie had stumbled out the door.
Lord, the girl had drained him dry and left him limp, but he knew he couldn’t ever get enough. There wasn’t any way to do that. Not with Lorene. And there wasn’t nothing wrong with it, either. He didn’t feel bad about it happening the way it did, and Lorene said she knew they’d done right. That they’d started out in sin, but it hadn’t ended up that way at all. Somewhere after about an hour and a half, she knew plain lust had turned to something fine and good and the Lord must have meant it that way. She said she felt it in her heart, and Howie said he did too.
Neal Barrett Jr. Page 8