by Alan Black
LillieBeth almost strutted while guiding the preacher to Miss Harbowe. She was worried her hand was getting sweaty lying up against his arm. But, she wouldn’t have moved her arm whatever the reason. She nodded at Fern and Magnolia as she and the preacher walked past their picnic spread. LillieBeth grinned inside, the Schmitt girls were obviously jealous of her walking arm in arm with the only single man on the knob.
Daddy waved at them as they walked up. He stood up and stretched his hand out to Reverend James, but he spoke to LillieBeth. “There you are, scamp. I am hungry and we have been waiting for you to get started.” He shook James hand vigorously. “Hello again, Padre. Pull up a rock and squat.”
LillieBeth was appalled. That was no way to talk to a man of God. She froze when Reverend James answered. He used a term that often made Daddy mad. It was the very name that caused Sheriff Grissom to bring him home a short while ago.
Reverend James said, “Hello again yourself, hillbilly.”
Daddy laughed and slapped Reverend James on the back. “Well, I may be a hillbilly, but that is a sight better than your Tennessee flatland white-trash backside, you old scut.”
LillieBeth sat next to her mother. She was confused. How could Daddy thrash three city tourists one day and laugh at another man the next for calling him the same thing. She would have to ask later, but she had to try to keep silent now. It was time for the adults to talk.
Reverend James slapped Daddy on the arm. He said, “Art, I knew you were from around here somewhere, but you surprised me today. Not only did you show up at church, but you plunked your skinny backside down in the front row. The good Lord knows I never saw you that close to my preaching in France.”
Daddy laughed. “As I recall, you spent most of your preaching time hiding behind me as the bullets flew.”
Mama touched Daddy on the arm. “Honey, war talk is not good for small ears.”
Daddy looked startled and then glanced at LillieBeth. “Sorry, scamp. David and I are old friends. I even forgot where I was for a moment.” He sat down and leaned against his wife. He told Reverend James “Plop your fanny down next to Susanne there.”
Reverend James eased himself onto Miss Harbowe’s picnic blanket. He said, “Lets get this feast going. Preaching makes a man hungry.”
LillieBeth imagined how nice it would be to be a minister’s or a missionary’s wife. Reverend James was a tall, strong, good looking man of God. What more could a woman want in a husband?
It only took a second to uncover the food. Mama and Miss Harbowe put their items together in the middle of the blanket, intending to share and share alike. They were about to dig in when Billy Hollister interrupted them.
Billy said, “Pa and Ma said to bring this bit of ham over.” He set a paper with a small mound of ham on it. “It looks good to me, but they said Ma made too much and if it don’t get eaten soon-”.
Miss Harbowe interrupted, “Billy Hollister, you know better. It is ‘doesn’t get eaten’ not ‘don’t’.”
Billy nodded, “Yes, Miss Harbowe. Sorry. It being Sunday and all, I forgot. Anyway, Pa says if it doesn’t get eaten he is going to have to throw it out.”
Billy ran off. Another youngster brought over a bowl of rice and beans. Then another brought a small tray of boiled mutton. And another brought over a bowl of bread pudding. It did not take long before the blankets were almost so covered there was hardly room to sit.
At the end, Sheriff and Mrs. Grissom joined them. Clayton Grissom was a big man, tall, and broad, but not fat. He was a perfect match to his set of huge Belgian draft horses. There wasn’t anything sleek about him, but he was steady, ready and strong, both in word and deed. Unlike many large men, he did not choose a small wife. She was as large as he was, matching him inch for inch and muscle for muscle. During the height of the war, so many men had gone to France to fight the Kaiser that she filled in as the local ferrier, shoeing horses and crafting hot metal.
The Grissoms brought a cake to share and a basket of airtights for Miss Harbowe as part of her teacher’s salary. They brought a second basket of tin cans and homemade preserves for Reverend James as part of his preaching stipend.
The Grissoms were members of the Church Board and the School Board. They tried to duck out of the responsibility year after year, but to no avail. They were not in charge of either board as the head rotated around from year to year. This year Mr. Schmitt was the head of the School Board and Mr. Westerly was the head of the Church Board. No matter who was in charge, the day-to-day activities of both community services always seemed to fall back on the Grissoms.
Everyone listened to Reverend James say grace and then grabbed their favorite food. LillieBeth was surprised and pleased to see Reverend James actually took the cold, fried rabbit and ate with gusto.
LillieBeth tried not to stare at Reverend James, but she could not help herself. After all, he had taken her hand and put it through the crook of his arm. No man had ever shown her that kind of affection, except Daddy.
A twinge of jealousy struck LillieBeth when she saw Reverend James watching Miss Harbowe. She could see the interest in his face. He was trying to veil his attraction. He could not hide his emotions from LillieBeth’s careful scrutiny.
Daddy laughed, “Well, David, if your preaching makes a man as hungry as you seem to be, it is good for something besides filling the air with words. Plus, it did fill this blanket with the biggest feast I have seen since getting off the boat in New York City.”
LillieBeth was shocked. How could Daddy say something like that to a preacher! It was almost blasphemous.
Reverend James laughed. “At least here I don’t have to compete with the Germans for quiet time. Oh sorry, ladies. I will try to save the man talk for later. Besides you hillbilly, that daughter of yours seemed to like what I preached. Maybe you should be listening to me with LillieBeth’s ears.”
LillieBeth smiled, but did not speak. Children only spoke when directly asked a question from an adult.
Miss Harbowe said, “Oh? Perhaps I should assign her to write a report on what she learned today.”
LillieBeth tore her eyes away from Reverend James. She looked at her teacher with new eyes. Surprising herself, she realized Reverend James and Miss Harbowe would make a cute couple, a nice match, and a perfect pair. It both hurt her heart to let Reverend James go and it elated her heart to give him to her teacher. If LillieBeth could not have him as her husband, then at least Miss Harbowe had a chance to grab a husband before she got too old.
Reverend James said, “I am sure LillieBeth would surprise you. She did have a grasp on what I preached more than a lot of adults scattered around this knob. She has decided to befriend a neighbor that she is not on good terms with. She will endeavor to love a neighbor she does not love now. That is a perfect practical example of my preaching.”
Mama said, “Oh? And who are we making friends with now?”
LillieBeth said, “Fletcher Hoffman.”
There was silence.
Sheriff Grissom said, “Um, I do know quite a bit about Fletcher Marlowe Hoffman. I am not sure that is a good idea.”
Daddy said, “No. That is the worst idea I have heard today. Elizabeth O’Brien Hazkit, what are you thinking?”
LillieBeth felt her stubborn streak stiffen. “Fletcher Hoffman has no one but God to love him. It is my job and I am going to do it.”
Sheriff Grissom said, “You all know about Hoffman’s past?”
LillieBeth said, “I heard he killed his parents and ran off to fight in the Civil War.”
Mama, Miss Harbowe and Mrs. Grissom gasped.
LillieBeth said, “I don’t care. That was a long time ago.”
Sheriff Grissom said, “I did some checking on him a few years back. There were reports of horse theft going on, so I checked on him. He did not kill his parents. His father went out west to California in 1849.”
Miss Harbowe asked, “His father was a 49er?”
Grissom nodded and said, “That i
s what is listed at the courthouse. He left the same year Fletcher was born and he never came back. As far as we know, Fletcher’s mother never heard from him again and she became a California widow.”
Miss Harbowe said, “I have read how twenty-five percent of the people heading West in 1849 never got to California or Oregon.”
Grissom said, “That may be true. It sounded like a rough trip. However, Fletcher’s mother recorded the title change to their property in 1859 or there abouts, putting the place in her son’s name. County records show she died when Hoffman was about fourteen.”
Daddy asked, “That would have been, what?”
LillieBeth said, “1863, Daddy. See? He needs a friend; he was an orphan when he was not much older than me. I would not know what to do without my Mama and Daddy. I would just die!”
Grissom said, “I think Hoffman felt much the same way. It was the middle of the Civil War. He joined the Confederacy.”
Daddy and Reverend James nodded as if that were the only logical choice.
Grissom shook his head. “It might have been a good thing, except he joined up with Colonel William Clark Quantrill and his raiders.”
Miss Harbowe shook her head in surprise. “Oh my God! A fourteen year old boy in that batch of cutthroats and killers?”
Grissom said, “They weren’t all bad and there was a war on. There were bad people on both sides along the border. The rumor is that Bloody Bill Anderson took Hoffman under his wing. It may be mostly rumor, but we are sure Hoffman rode next to Anderson during the raid and massacre on Lawrence, Kansas. I am not saying killing civilians in a war is okay, but Bill was hot. The Union had arrested his fourteen year old sister. She was killed when the prison building she was in collapsed.”
Mama said, “That is horrible.”
Grissom nodded. “I agree. And from what I heard from my father, Bill taught young Hoffman to be a butcher just like him, scalping and killing Union soldiers and civilian sympathizers alike.”
Daddy said, “I heard Fletcher Hoffman robbed a bank in Missouri after the war.”
Grissom thought a bit and gestured with a rabbit leg, “My father was a U.S. Marshall around these parts after the war. May God forgive me for my Yankee carpetbagger blood! Papa told me about the robbery. It was Frank James and the Younger brothers holding up the bank in Liberty, Missouri.”
Miss Harbowe asked, “Frank and Jesse James? I did read that they only robbed Union banks and gave the money to the people burned out during the war.”
Grissom answered, “There is some truth to that and some not. Anyway, Jesse wasn’t with Frank that day. It was in the winter of ‘66. The war was over, so it was not an act of war. It was a crime, no matter what they did with the money. There were at least a dozen of Quantrill’s ex-raiders in on the robbery. No one ever identified them all and there was no proof Fletcher Hoffman was there.”
Reverend James said, “There was no proof he wasn’t there, was there?”
Grissom replied, “No, Reverend. No one knows but Fletcher Marlowe Hoffman and he isn’t talking.”
Mama said, “I heard he fought indians out West before coming back to the hills. I heard he killed indian women and children in the territories.”
Grissom said, “We only know he left the hills to fight in the war. He did not come back for thirty years. When he did come back, he chased the squatters off his property, settling in, raising horses, trying to be left alone.”
Daddy said, “I hear Hoffman killed a couple of men a few years back.”
Grissom nodded. “That is true. It was just after you left for the war. Hoffman brought a few horses into Oasis. At the time, the Army was buying all the stock they could get. It wasn’t top dollar, but they were paying cash money. Some Bald Knobbers thought they had more use for the money than Hoffman did and he killed them. That old man is fast with the revolver he always wears. However, I know for a fact he did not even draw the revolver. I have also never seen him without his old lever action 1894 Winchester Short. That rifle is quick out of the scabbard and even quicker to the shoulder. The lever action is like summer lightning. I know he did not shoot the last man that day. Bloody Bill must have taught him to use a knife. He practically gutted the last man from notch to nape. Every few years we hear of a Klansman going missing. I can’t say if it is Hoffman’s doing, but for the most part, the Bald Knobbers and the Klan both have learned to steer clear of him.”
Mrs. Grissom shuddered. She said, “I really don’t see that this is a conversation for ladies and certainly not for young LillieBeth’s ears.”
Mama nodded, “I would agree, except I know my daughter. Unless we can convince her otherwise, she will beard that old bear in his own den.”
Miss Harbowe looked at LillieBeth, “Please, you do need to reconsider. I don’t get very many smart students like you up here on the knob. I would hate to lose a good student on such a fool’s errand.”
Reverend James looked at Miss Harbowe in surprise, “Fool’s errand? I must disagree. LillieBeth is perfectly right in her understanding of the Bible. None of God’s work is foolish. Now Miss Harbowe, I know you did not mean it that way, but I do have to say if LillieBeth is anything like her father, she will charge across no man’s land, ducking bullet and bomb, whether it makes sense to try or not.”
Mama looked hesitant, but said, “I heard Hoffman burned some tourist’s car down on the Taneycomo a few months ago.”
Grissom nodded, “Well, they weren’t really tourists. They were bootleggers down from Chicago come looking for a place to set up some stills. I can’t prove it, but word is Hoffman has a cousin up in Illinois. The man sent the bootleggers down here to look for Hoffman, figuring they could use his place with ease.”
Daddy said, “I heard he runs a still.”
Grissom laughed, “As the sheriff I heard that too. Him and every third man in these hills has a whiskey still. But he doesn’t sell to anyone that I can find out about. What he does on his own place is his own business. It only becomes my business when he tries to sell what he makes. I do know that when those bootleggers asked to buy his ‘shine, he told them no. They wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he beat them down and burned their car down around their ears. He may be somewhere in his seventies by now, but he is still a tough old man.”
LillieBeth interjected, “Seventy-one, sir. If he was born in 1849, he would be seventy-one now.” Even as a child, she felt the need to speak; this conversation was about her, giving her every right to address the issue at hand.
Mama said, “Well, I never heard he ever hurt any young girls hereabouts. I don’t know about the indian territories or Lawrence, Kansas, but I don’t want my daughter hurt. I know you will obey me if I tell you not to go. I also know it will make you angry and more than a little sad to not do this, so you be careful around that old man.”
LillieBeth nodded. She was going to do what she set out to do, but she was no longer as excited about it as she was when the idea first occurred to her. Maybe Magnolia was right. The man was mean and crazy, or maybe he was crazy and mean.
LillieBeth said, “I don’t mean to be disrespectful to my elders, but if God says to go, what else can I do but go? Daniel went into the lions den. Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego went into the fire. If God protected them, surely He will do that for me.”
SUNDAY - AFTERNOON
LillieBeth hurried along the road. She wanted to get to Hoffman’s place and back home before dark. She was not afraid of the dark, but like all reasonable people, she was wary of the things living in the dark.
She knew Daddy and Mama were not pleased she had chosen this course of action. Pleased or not, they said they were not going to stop her. Daddy even offered to drive her down to Hoffman’s place, but she refused. Daddy needed to rest and spend time alone with Mama before going back to work. He would have to leave tonight in order to get to work tomorrow morning. Naomi and Ruth also needed the rest.
On the way back from church, Daddy had talked about stories hi
s grandfather had told of the Civil War. His grandfather had been a dispatch rider for General Price in Arkansas and had seen Bloody Bill Anderson once. The man had ridden into the General’s field camp, leading a troop of seventy-five or eighty men. Bloody Bill and many of his men had decorated their horses with scalps taken from Union soldiers. The General had refused to meet with Bloody Bill unless he got rid of the scalps. Bloody Bill had gone away angry.
The rumor was Bloody Bill had killed fifty-two men before he died at the age of twenty-four. The man had only killed one woman, one white woman anyway. The story went that he had shot and killed a woman during a raid and massacre in Centralia, Missouri. Bill’s men had become angry he had shot a woman, as most of the men were southerners and saw themselves as protectors of women. Bill had shrugged it off as an accident when he missed shooting a Union officer in the back.
Fletcher Marlowe Hoffman had a very bad past, if it was true he had been a follower of Bloody Bill Anderson. Her father said if Hoffman had been with Anderson’s guerillas then he would not hurt her, as they were known for not harming women. They did have a tendency to rape black slaves or indian women wherever they found them, but white women were almost sacred.
She knew her scripture for the coming Sunday and had recited it. Miss Harbowe had given her a card even though she had missed Sunday school, wanting to hear Reverend James preach. She pulled the card out and read it again. She worked the words to get them seated in her mind.
“Third John Two, ‘Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health as thy soul prospereth’.”
She smiled and said, “We are prospering now. We have a roof over our heads and God’s bounty fills our bellies. Daddy could use some more health. Maybe I need to learn to help my soul prosper. I guess it means making it stronger and doing what the Bible says, not just reading it and putting it in my brain. Just like now.”
She shouted her scripture again.