by David Fuller
Could be the Lord sent it on to you because He woke up and remembered He'd been a fool with drink the night before, and now He didn't much care to have his song remind Him. Send it down to George, He said, hide this song away from me in the corner of some field.
Banjo George was indignant: He done sent it to inspire me.
I'm just saying, to protect you, George, so you ain't embarrassed flying on up to Heaven with your banjo and He hear you start up and says, Quit that infernal racket, George, I's blind drunk when I wrote that song, and now here you is mockin the Lord.
Banjo George's eyes narrowed. That ain't right, Cassius.
You're right, I know you are, probably not that way at all. Maybe the Lord see you coming and He just real quick send you off to the other place so He don't got to hear it.
Banjo George's mouth opened and closed like a fish on land.
Cassius's eyes found Joseph's and he nodded toward the lane. Joseph was too stunned to laugh. He followed Cassius toward the big barn where the dancing was to take place.
They had rounded the bend when they heard Banjo George's instrument sing. Joseph finally laughed.
Hoo, you twisted him up good, Cassius. He ain't never gonna play that new song, I tell you that much.
Banjo George ever show you his chest? said Cassius.
Can't say he did. Seem like he always keep it covered.
Looks like a pack of wolves got to him the way he carved and tattooed and scarred himself. You mind that Arkansas toothpick of his and let some other damn fool be his new blank sheet of skin.
Believe I will, said Joseph, and he was grateful. And that there looks suspiciously like Miss Fanny, only this girl is taller and prettier.
Cassius looked where Joseph was looking and saw that little Fanny of Edensong was indeed taller and prettier.
Cassius continued down the lane to the far side of the large barn, close enough to watch the festivities, far enough to be outside of them, and there he found a circle of Sweetsmoke and Edensong men lounging and smoking and he joined them, pulling out a rolled cigar. The men noted the string tied around Cassius's smoke and smiled at one another. Cassius held the far end to the fire and brought it to his lips to suck the cigar alive. He settled back to listen to the discussion.
We been findin hornworms with your name all over 'em, said one of the Sweetsmokes.
Hell, all we done is whisper in they ears that your tobacco be nice 'n' sweet, which it got to be so's to balance out your mean old massa, said one of the Edensongs, and they all laughed.
My massa mean? We done seen yours and he be nastier than a nidderin woodchuck.
Why that warn't no woodchuck, that be your Missus Ellen. My Ol' Massa Francis be the kindliest gentleman in the Commonwealth of Virginie. Got hisself a whole delivery of oranges from that blockade runner, pay top dollar, and give 'em to his slaves, said the Edensong.
No surprise you be confused, seein as how you blind as well as ignorant. He ain't but the second kindliest master. My Massa Hoke one day slaughter up his whole pen a' hogs and give us bacon and ham and pork shoulder and hog jaw and keep none back for hisself, said the Sweetsmoke.
Well hell, that ain't but nothin, my Massa Francis gots a still and he gather up his taters and barley and mash 'em up and makes us some fine Christmas brew and we all happy and not gots to work till Feb'ry. You Suetsmokes back to work by New Year's.
I take offense at you callin it Suetsmoke.
Well, you call it that.
All right for us to do.
Then I pass you my jug and apologize.
Cassius smiled as smoke and braggadocio washed over him.
Massa Hoke got hisself a fat new bathtub can fit four hands sittin side by side.
Massa Francis got a whole row of bathtubs, use a different one every night.
Massa Hoke got hisself a new saddle made from the softest pigskin.
Massa Francis got boots made from the skin of lions from Portugal.
Massa Hoke own those lions and Portugal, too.
Massa Francis so rich, he drown his ships come from Portugal after just one trip since he like the smell of when they new.
Massa Hoke, said Cassius elbowing into the conversation, has a desk so large the hands from both plantations can sit around it and still have room for horses and mules.
The Sweetsmokes and the Edensongs looked at him with pure admiration, nodding.
And I built it, said Cassius, blowing out a plume of smoke. On that, he stood up and wandered away. For a moment he heard silence from the men around the fire, and then they started up again. Massa Francis got a chair so big he can sit at Cassius's desk all by hisself and not have room for no one else. Cassius chuckled to himself.
Inside the big barn, men played improvised musical instruments, and a handful of dancers in the middle churned up straw dust. Cassius recognized one of the dancers as Maryanne, Captain Solomon Whitacre's cook, and a queasy feeling came over him. Emoline Justice had been dead less than a week and here he was, bragging and smoking. A shadow crossed his mind; no one would ever know who killed her.
Cassius stared at the interplay of Edensongs and Sweetsmokes, Swan of Alicantes and Little Saplings on the dance floor without seeing them, a swirl of color and motion that hypnotized until a stillness at the center of it all caught his attention, Big Gus motionless on the far side of the barn. Big Gus brought a jug slowly to his lips just as Quashee entered with her father Beauregard. Big Gus lowered the jug and in a step was in front of her, wiping the jug's lip with his sleeve. He offered it and Quashee shook her head. Beauregard allowed himself a polite sip, but Big Gus's eyes claimed Quashee.
Cassius felt his temper breathe, and then Weyman came in and saw him and Cassius was glad to have the distraction of his company so he might push his anger away, as this was not his fight. Weyman leaned hard against the barn wall.
You win again? said Cassius, one eye on Quashee and Big Gus.
Somethin wrong with them judges, said Weyman. Can't tell if they stupid or deaf. I done told that story the best it ever been told but they just look at me like I'se speakin in tongues.
Sorry to hear that, said Cassius.
It's the bad luck, I tell you. It spreadin.
Not you too.
Bad luck all over, like this war. Some say it's good for us, but I say it ain't. They just not tellin folks what it really about. What y'all got with war? More danger, less food, crazier white people, I mean, they a lot more of 'em dyin and that bad for us, see what I'm sayin? I know bad luck when it come.
What's that you're drinking?
Edensong firewater is what it is. Bark juice, busthead, rotgut, pop skull, help yourself.
Maybe later, I had a little something before.
And now your luck done turned worse, 'cause I offered and you said no and now I ain't sharin no more, said Weyman with a smile. After a long tug, he slid down the wall and looked around sadly.
Can't look 'em in the eye, Cassius. Three years I been winnin, and now I'm one sad wicked creature.
Sad wicked Weyman, said Cassius.
Beauregard was speaking earnestly to Big Gus, and Cassius watched Quashee move away. He reminded himself again, it was not his fight. He looked back at Weyman and waited for an opportunity to knock the jug out of reach.
Things bad, Cassius. Dreams keepin me awake.
That's the busthead.
Naw, busthead keep me warm. Only thing keepin me warm, women already look at me like I was somethin funny.
Cassius reached for the jug, but Weyman picked it up first.
Gotta have somethin, said Weyman. I am just a poor slave, never be nothin more.
Sure, sure.
Lord write it down in his book, can't argue with the Lord. Ol' Bible say, You a slave, Weyman, you just a slave.
Lord says that in the Bible? Where in the Bible you see that? said Cassius.
Right up there in the beginnin, with Noah and all.
You mean the story of Ham?
&n
bsp; Yeah, that the one, Ham, he that son of Noah, saw Noah all naked and got hisself cursed and sent off to be a slave and we been slaves ever since.
Who told you that, the white preacher?
Him and Old Thomas, I don't know, everybody says that.
First of all, Noah cursed Canaan, Ham's son. He never cursed Ham.
It the same shit, still mean the same thing for me!
And why's it matter if he saw old Noah naked? And where in that story, where in the Bible does it say Ham is black?
If he ain't black, why they say he is?
Look, Weyman, I tell you myself, I read that-
Her hand came onto his shoulder, the lightest touch, and Cassius looked, and Quashee's eyes held his eyes for one important moment, and then her hand was gone and she glided away, smiling at someone passing.
Weyman looked at him with drunken, rheumy eyes.
I done talked to someone who read it, said Cassius, letting go of his anger, now imitating Weyman's drunken drawl, and they done told me ain't nothin in the Bible say Ham was black. Don't be listenin to what them preachers and planters tellin you, Weyman, not even your Thomas.
Cassius came out of his crouch and turned casually away, but his secret eyes were alive and feral and they examined the nearby men and women, scanning the faces of anyone who might have been listening. Through the crowd, he saw Jenny. Hurt brimmed up in her eyes and they held each other's gaze. She turned away first and went out the far barn door. Cassius absorbed her pain and had his own moment of loss, and the spot Quashee had touched burned on his shoulder. Cassius knew Jenny would never again return to his cabin.
He took a step to follow Jenny, but Big Gus blocked his path.
Oh Gus, what the hell do you want? said Cassius. His patience was in rags and he was unwilling to pretend otherwise.
Cassius, when you gonna stop botherin that little girl?
Just exactly what little girl am I bothering, Gus?
You already got yourself a girl, what you need two for?
Got a whole collection, now what little girl you mean? said Cassius, thinking, too harsh, too harsh, but he did not care.
Jenny already comin to your cabin, so you stop botherin Quashee or I do somethin about it. She don't like it.
I'll try to remember, said Cassius. It seemed that others knew about Jenny and him.
Cassius began to step around Big Gus, but Big Gus shifted his feet to remain in his path.
Something else? said Cassius, and now he was dangerous.
I'm feelin good right now, said Big Gus.
I am gratified.
Real good.
Real gratified.
And you mock me, Cassius, said Big Gus.
At that moment, Cassius did not remember his words to Andrew, and Old Darby was not there to check him. Every successful To-Do ended in at least one legendary fight, and he was about to make history. Cassius was grateful to Quashee for keeping him from revealing his secret literacy, but her quick thinking had brought him to this. He did not fear Big Gus, but a fight would cause others to take sides and then he and Gus would be defined as enemies, and it would carry on into the weeks and the years. Cassius took the measure of the man. Big Gus was taller, broader, his hands were large and hard, his arm muscles rolled under his skin like iron bars. Cassius expected that he would take a beating, but that was not a sure thing as Big Gus had been drinking and Cassius would be quicker. He devised a strategy, to stay a step outside of Big Gus's reach and let him swing hard and often and eventually wear down. No positive outcome loomed; it would be bad if he won, worse if he lost. If he won, Big Gus would look for a rematch, and the advantage Cassius now held over Big Gus's drunken overconfidence would no longer exist. If he lost, he would take a severe beating and spend his life enduring Big Gus's preening pride.
Would it matter if I say I don't mock you?
No.
Then I won't bother to lie. So explain something. You hear rumors, right?
What rumors?
Rumors that Quashee's bad luck.
Sure, I hear 'em.
Then why do you want her? Don't you think that bad luck'll rub off on you?
Big Gus smiled at him, a leering unpleasant smile.
I see, said Cassius, understanding the unintended double meaning of his own question.
Big Gus turned aside to set down his jug, and Cassius set himself for Big Gus to come up swinging, as was his method. But Big Gus stayed low, and Cassius looked where Gus looked, at Joseph and Fanny dancing in the cloud of straw dust. Cassius saw twirling smiling Fanny, her inviting body imprinting delicious shapes on his eyes, shapes meant for Joseph alone. She reached up and tousled the white tuft on Joseph's head and laughed. He saw Joseph enraptured and reckless, and Cassius thought that all lovers were doomed.
God damn, said Big Gus. I was savin that one.
Big Gus started toward Joseph.
Gus, said Cassius.
Later, said Big Gus.
You don't walk away, said Cassius, wondering why he was doing this. Gus!
Big Gus came around snorting.
Fanny's just a girl and that's a good age for Joseph.
You callin me old?
Calling them young.
You lookin at the Driver of Sweetsmoke and I get what I want. Maybe she young, but after tonight she ain't gonna be a girl no more.
I don't think so, Gus.
Big Gus stalked onto the dance area, Cassius moving behind him, but Cassius slowed when he saw Abram across the barn.
Abram caught his eye, then surprised him by turning away and slipping out the door back into the night. Because of that, Cassius missed the moment when Big Gus shoved Joseph. Fanny yelled at Big Gus, but Big Gus pointed his finger at Joseph and Joseph slapped the man's hand aside. Cassius knew Joseph had no chance, young and lean, and round in his cheeks, so Cassius reached for Gus, but three Edensongs stepped in then, men who did not fear the wrath of a driver from a neighbor plantation, followed by Fanny's mother. Cassius chose to let them have him and he walked away with his heart pounding.
Cassius overheard Big Gus say, Mr. Nettle, he trust me, patrollers my friends, you all goin be sold to Sweetsmoke and then you mine, and Cassius overheard Fanny's mother say, You don't git my daughter, she ain't betrothin no Sweetsmoke driver, not while I'm her mamma, and he heard Big Gus yell, We in the fields tomorrow, Joseph, so I see you there.
As Cassius left the barn, he saw Fawn weeping openly, having been witness to the whole scene. Irritated by Fawn's tragic tears, he moved away to escape them.
The Big-To-Do went on as night fell over Edensong. Cassius had looked for Jenny but had not seen her since the barn. Perhaps that was just as well, as she might need time to cool down.
So far, nothing had happened that would define the dance as furthering the bad luck. If he was lucky, it would be the first step in changing that tradition. He winced at his own superstition, but knew that when people started to perceive bad luck, any small fool thing reinforced it. The anticipation of bad luck could carry on for months, years. At that moment, as he mused, Richard Justice stepped out of the shadows and took Cassius completely by surprise. Richard Justice had chosen this time and place to guarantee shock and isolation.
"What'd you find, Cassius?"
Nothing, how long you been here? said Cassius.
"What'd you find!?"
What makes you think I found—?
"That smug look on your face, you got something going on, empty your pouch!"
Richard Justice rammed his forearm against Cassius's chest and shoved him against a tree.
Cassius was stronger and taller, but even though he had expected this moment, he had been caught off-guard by Richard Justice's sudden appearance. He did not push back. Richard Justice dug under Cassius's shirt, found the string that held his pouch, pulled it out, and used his free hand to take out the three coins and the folded prewar bank notes.
"Jesus Christ, this is prewar, these are bank notes! No faith pa
per in sight!"
Cassius had chosen bank notes decorated with colorful depictions of cheerful slaves at work. He did not imagine Richard Justice would notice or care. It was Cassius's own small revenge, and it satisfied him.
"No protest? Aren't you going to tell me you made that money as a carpenter?"
You'd know it was a lie.
"You should have hidden it, Cassius. That wasn't smart, carrying it on you."
Didn't think you'd show tonight.
"Couldn't help yourself, Cassius the clever, flashing prewar bills, showing off to the hands. That's so small of you, they are so easily impressed."
Cassius held his tongue. Richard Justice now thought what he wanted him to think, that Cassius had been foolishly overconfident.
"And the rest?"
Not gonna say, said Cassius.
Richard Justice put his open hand on Cassius's chest and pushed him toward the tree.
All right, all right, back where it was, said Cassius.
"I'll know if you're lying, we can go to your cabin right now."
Cassius slapped Richard Justice's arm away.
So come to my cabin, you won't find nothing. I put it back where she hid it, figured it's good there if you looked before and didn't find it.
"Fair enough," said Richard Justice nodding. Cassius had read him correctly, he was too indolent to bother going further—the money in his hands satisfied his expectation of Cassius's greed, and Cassius knew he had buried enough money to convince Richard Justice he had unearthed her entire fortune.
"So you reburied it. When were you going back?"
Cassius shrugged.
"Don't feel bad, Cassius, it was the smart play, the odds were decent, always a chance I wouldn't come after you."
Richard Justice counted the money again with pleasure. Cassius described where the tin was buried in the garden.
"I looked there."
I dug deeper.
Cassius knew Richard Justice would dig up the money tonight and never return to his mother's home.
"Here, take this for your trouble." Richard Justice put a coin in Cassius's palm.
Cassius again wondered if Richard Justice had murdered Emoline. But he did not believe it. For all his bluster, Richard Justice did not have that requisite inner coldness to crush the head of his own mother. A small voice inside of him spoke, If you don't find her killer, her death goes unpunished. He dismissed the voice.