by David Fuller
"Word is, Whitacre and his men hunt for a spy. Other than that they wouldn't bother, but quartermasters aren't issued ordnance the same as fighting troops so they came for ammunition and rifles. Probably tried to assess them from the plantations unsuccessfully. Now you sure you don't want that bottle?"
So he hasn't found his spy yet?
"Not so's I've heard. Apparently they've gone north looking for someone."
Cassius flicked the reins. Sam lifted his chin and stepped forward and Cassius knew he needed to do nothing more as the horse was familiar with the way home. Whitacre had gone after the telegraph operator. He wondered if Whitacre knew about W York. Cassius felt the pressure mount, he needed to get to the telegraph operator first.
* * *
Chapter Nine
Mam Rosie ventured out to assist Cassius as he unloaded the carriage, but he waved her off. Pet came out the back door of the big house holding up the bottom corners of her apron transporting a small treasure, walking briskly toward the kitchen with her head down, lost in thought. Halfway there she raised her eyes and stopped as she saw him. He smiled at her. Unable to disguise her dismay, she stumbled to hurry back inside, releasing one corner of her apron, and a dozen small green tomatoes tumbled to the ground. Then it was quiet but for the buzz hum of insects and the fierce caw from a crow. He wandered over and stooped to collect the tomatoes, wiping dirt from their thick skins with his thumb, finding them too immature to be bruised. He left them in a pile by the rear door and wandered back to the carriage. He returned to the unloading, and shortly thereafter Quashee emerged from the rear door, stopped to note the tiny green pile, and crossed through the vegetable garden to the carriage. His deliberate indolence had brought him his reward.
I knew you were back when I saw Pet's face, said Quashee.
She was sorry not to see me in chains.
You mean she wishes you in chains, or she thought it might happen?
Possibly both, said Cassius.
You all right? said Quashee with marked alarm, and her eyes ran up to the second-story window of Ellen's bedroom. The curtains did not move.
Way I see it, she told Ellen to send me hoping I'd follow Joseph into the bushes.
But, you been to dry goods before?
Not usually alone.
And she thought this time was different?
Patrollers all spread out after Joseph. She hoped I'd jump at the chance. Anything about him yet?
Nothing, said Quashee.
Maybe he got away, said Cassius.
Too soon to know. Lot of patrollers. You see Savilla?
Hard for her, she hopes he gets away, but maybe that's bad for Sammy and Andrew. Old Hoke could break up the family from spite. I don't think she sleeps, I hear she fell exhausted yesterday in the fields.
Terrible to have children, said Quashee.
Terrible?
In this life. Terrible to love something, all they do is rip it away, and that's just 'cause they can, said Quashee.
Never heard you talk like that.
Saw it all when Master John-Corey died.
Cassius nodded, but said nothing. She looked off in the direction of the fields and the harsh crow scolded them.
How is it for you inside? said Cassius.
Work's same as Master John-Corey's. Hard to care for invalids, they get mean, but the bad parts are over quick and it's quiet awhile before she yells again. Missus Sarah don't read aloud to her servant, and Pet don't want me near Missus Ellen, thank you for that, so I got a bit of my own time. Pet won't help me none, which when I think of it, is likely a blessing, but Nanny Catherine acts nice and says Missus Sarah happier with someone to boss. Pet can't look at me. I see her eyes red from crying, and can't help but feel sorry for her.
She'd've had you in chains bound for Louisiana.
All right, but I'm still sorry.
Can't say that I'm sorry, said Cassius, although he knew he was.
She's sneaking a look out Missus Ellen's window, carry something inside, said Quashee.
I don't care—
Go on, don't be a fool.
They both carried sacks into the kitchen, and Mam Rosie gave them a significant look, then stepped outside to leave them alone.
I got to get into the big house, said Cassius, stepping close to her and speaking quickly and quietly.
What, being a fool ain't enough, now you got to be a crazy person? said Quashee, and she also spoke quietly, matching his urgency.
Got to get something from Hoke's study.
I'll get it.
No, Pet's watching you just waiting for a mistake, she'll get you linked to a coffle to follow Tempie. We make a signal after dark, you let me know when the planters sleep and it's safe. That leaves you on your pallet so if I'm caught, no one knows about you. The only way I do it, said Cassius.
I don't like it.
Or I come in when I think it's right.
Her expression revealed what she thought of that idea.
What kind of signal? she said.
Where do you sleep in the house?
Attic over Missus Sarah's bedroom, so I can hear her at night if she needs me.
Alone?
One night there was Nanny Catherine, but she usually stays in the young'uns' bedroom. Most sleep on the floor near their masters, Pet like to hold Missus Ellen in her arms if she could, and Miss Genevieve and Missus Anne and all them, their servants sleep in trundle beds pulled out from under their mistress's beds.
Your attic got a window?
Small one, in the gable.
Got room to set a candle there?
Think so.
You light it and I'll know family's down for the night.
How do I know what night?
Cassius looked at the fires in Mam Rosie's hearth as he thought for a moment.
You watch for a signal from me, said Cassius.
Can't see the quarters from the big house.
No, but you can see the carpentry shed.
No window in that one.
Watch the chimney, I saw a stack of elm logs somewhere and even old elm makes good smoke. Make that my signal.
Lit candle if it's safe, said Quashee.
Good. I'll watch tonight.
No. Not tonight. Too many patrollers come in and out at night, and Master Hoke's not even back yet. Not tonight.
Then watch for the smoke tomorrow. After supper. Look for it.
Cassius spent the better part of the following day working in and around the carpentry shed. He located an old pile of elm logs near the slave graveyard and rolled them to the shed in a wheelbarrow. He climbed the shed roof as if checking for a leak and looked to see that the view was clear from the attic's gables. He walked around the shed to locate an innocuous place from where he might see Quashee's signal. He found a likely spot. He rolled a wide log and stood it on one flat end, the other end his seat. He was ready for night to fall, with the sun still high in the sky.
In the middle afternoon, a vibration came through the ground, almost unnoticed until the tools in the shed softly chimed as they touched. The vibration grew until he looked up with the air throbbing deep in his ears and in that moment he knew fear. They were coming, all of them together, men and horses, and that meant things had gone bad. Hooves agitated the hill and he knew the dishes would be rattling in the big house and every living soul would be running to the windows and he didn't want them to witness what was about to happen. He moved to the door of the shed and came off the step onto the ground, holding the doorjamb as if the vibration might knock him off his feet, but it wasn't vibration that made him unsteady, it was the awful weakness in his legs. He walked to the front yard and they were coming up the hill, he estimated at least a score. Dust trailed them and the wind came around briefly and blew the dust ahead, burying them in a cloud from which they emerged, bigger, closer, closer. Their expressions were grim not in defeat but with self-satisfied victory. Cassius expected them to stop in the yard before the big house, b
ut they did not turn at the gate, riding instead past to the quarters. He saw one riderless horse and realized that a body was secured across the back of the horse facedown, arms and legs lashed underneath. The trailing cloud of dust rolled silently over him and consumed the big house. When it passed, they were out of sight around the bend, most likely already passing the house of Mr. Nettle.
Cassius ran down the path to the quarters. The pounding of the hooves stopped suddenly and he knew they had reined in and now waited in the lane. He arrived to see Otis Bornock and Hans Mueller cut the body free and pull on its arms to drop it facedown in the dirt. The others sat waiting on their horses as Mr. Nettle's iron bell rang. It was a few minutes before the first hands came in from the fields, and they made a semicircle facing horses and men, staring at the body in the lane. Cassius had hoped for his sake that he was dead, but then Joseph moved and Cassius heard a dry pitiable moan rasp out of his throat and Cassius's heart sank lower, to scratch its own place in the dust. Blood was everywhere on Joseph with none of it on the ground. Trails of dried blood coursed along the outsides of his arms and down the backs of his hands and made a perfect line along each of his fingers to where it collected in small oval bubbles on his nails. Blood was slick on his neck and his hair was matted with syrupy nubbles of coagulate grume. His trousers were soaked a deep luxuriant red, and as Cassius looked at his back, he felt his own quiver with empathy and felt wetness inside his shirt. Joseph's back was slashed and furrowed and swollen and shreds of his shirt had been driven deep into his wounds. And yet, when Cassius looked at the back of Joseph's legs, he knew the worst was to come. They were waiting for the hands to assemble before performing surgery. He saw the dull bowie knife in Otis Bornock's hand, and he was almost glad because Bornock was a dull and impatient butcher and might bungle the job and Joseph might yet lose enough blood to allow him to die.
Fawn began to shriek into her hands as she drew close, dancing from one foot to the other with her eyes set on Joseph's back. Banjo George leaned in, inching forward as he gaped with fascination, absorbing every last mark of Joseph's pain.
Savilla ran up the lane from the fields. One of the hands stepped in her path, but she pushed him aside. She went straight at Fawn and slapped her soundly across the face, and Fawn's eyes went round and she stopped her noise. Abram came behind Savilla but held up a few yards short and Cassius saw that Sammy and Andrew were farther down the lane and would come no closer. Hoke nodded to a rider Cassius did not recognize, and the rider spurred his horse to block Savilla, but she bellowed and with her heavy legs and tree-trunk arms tried to push the horse aside to get to her son. The rider finally quit and she was around him standing over Joseph. She could not safely touch him without causing more pain, so she just stood there, her legs wide as if he had only then emerged bloody from her womb, her arms reaching out in an empty embrace, hands opening and closing in a gesture so helpless that Cassius felt tears burn his eyes. She whimpered for her baby boy and no one moved to her side. Abram stayed back and the others shied away. Big Gus marched up the path, saw Savilla, and walked straight for her. The unattractive Polly reached out, a subtle but knowing hand catching his forearm to hold him back. Big Gus stopped, looked at it, and she took her hand away. He then continued his march to Savilla. He offered his broad chest, steel arms moving to enwrap her. She accepted the welcome gesture, unable to take her eyes off her boy, but then she recognized Gus's smell and her head reared back and her eyes opened wide in feral revulsion. Abram quickly came, surrounding her arms before she could lash out, guiding her to the older women of the quarters who smothered her fury. Abram turned to Big Gus, and Cassius saw what would come and moved to support him, but then Abram's head dropped, mimicking a bow. Big Gus put his hand on Abram's shoulder affectionately and they stood that way, a frozen moment, and Cassius thought he would be physically ill.
Cassius looked up at Hoke and saw that his whip encircled the pommel of his saddle. Blood from the ends had darkened the leather with drops that ran down toward the stirrups, spreading sideways. Splatters of Joseph's blood resembled a pox on the backs of Hoke's hands with more hurled up his sleeve and across the front of his shirt, while a red streak remained on his cheek from where he had tried to wipe his face. In Hoke's eyes Cassius saw no satisfaction, only a deep exhaustion from the grueling search that had lasted many days and nights. Hoke would pay each man for his part, and Cassius wondered if there was coin enough for all or if Hoke would give them paper. That would disappoint them.
"Do it," Hoke said, and his voice was pitched high, thick with phlegm.
Otis Bornock wiped the dull blade against his shirt and dropped to one knee, rolling up Joseph's trouser leg. No one moved to help him, and he looked up and said, "Get down here and hold him!"
Hans Mueller stepped in and Isaac Lang quickly came off his mount. One held Joseph's foot and the other leaned his entire bulk against his legs and buttocks, staying clear of his back. Bornock angled the knife, choosing an awkward angle that would do the most damage, and he commenced to split the skin with great effort too high above the heel, sawing through muscle until he scraped the Achilles tendon. Joseph's head and back reared up and a sound came out of him that chilled Cassius, a sound he would not soon forget. Cassius thought of young, pretty Fanny at Edensong Plantation and knew that as much as she liked that white tuft in Joseph's hair, she would settle for a husband with less damage. Not one of the hands made a sound but Banjo George smiled, and Cassius thought the insects and birds had gone dumb. Bornock looked up when it was done and said, "The other one?"
Cassius almost cried out, ready to intervene, which would have been worse than pointless as it would have brought him into the circle of Hoke's rage, but Hoke said, "No, that will do."
Cassius turned away, but his eye caught the eye of one of the hunters, Thomas Chavis, the owner of Weyman. He saw the disgust and horror in the man's face, and was grateful for that small shred of human conscience. Cassius walked away, and behind him heard Hoke issue orders, "Take him to the tobacco shed and shackle him."
Cassius did not remember anything of the rest of that afternoon. He did not remember hearing the men on their horses come back up to the big house to get paid, did not remember hearing them ride off singly or in small groups, but after a time he knew they were all gone.
Cassius, come, come quick!
Quashee was running toward him.
Something wrong with him, hurry!
Cassius ran, swiftly overtaking her and came around the side of the big house where Beauregard was trying to drag Hoke inside with his arms under Hoke's armpits. The women were bees bursting from the house, Genevieve at the door, Anne in the lane, Ellen at Hoke's side, all buzzing madly, pointlessly.
Set him down, said Cassius to Beauregard firmly.
"Don't put him down, get his feet!" said Ellen, and her corrosive panic sprang at him.
No, Missus, said Cassius quietly, with grave authority.
"Get the doctor," said Ellen. "Someone take the carriage, go to town, get the doctor!"
"I saw the whole thing, he got off his horse, the groom took it, and then he was on the ground," said Genevieve to anyone who would listen.
Cassius knelt over Hoke and looked for signs of a wound, but the only blood on him was Joseph's.
Hoke spoke quietly and Cassius moved in to hear. "Time to meet the angel," he said.
Not yet, said Cassius so that no one else could hear.
"He awaits me."
House servants crowded them as they saw Hoke speak, and Cassius stood and his cold expression forced them back. They would never understand the pride Hoke took in maintaining his power in front of his people, and despite Cassius's anger, he did not want his master to be seen like this.
"Cassius," said Hoke, his voice thin.
You know me?
"Yes, of course," said Hoke, sounding more like himself.
Are you injured? said Cassius.
"That stupid boy, that stupid stupid child," said
Hoke, shaking his head mournfully.
Joseph, said Cassius.
"Get him up!" shrieked Ellen.
Just wait! said Cassius severely, and Ellen stepped back, shocked and silenced.
"I am so tired, Cassius, so very tired," said Hoke.
I know, said Cassius gently.
"Poor stupid boy."
Been out after him for days, said Cassius.
"Barely slept, cannot remember what it is to sleep."
You'll sleep soon and you'll be well, said Cassius.
Cassius slid one arm under Hoke's back, the other under his knees and lifted him in his arms. Standing, he saw Pet in the door. He scowled, looked around, saw Quashee and nodded to her.
Make a path, said Cassius.
Quashee moved ahead and he carried Hoke through the door and to the cool inside. She led him to the staircase and he followed her up directly to Hoke's bedroom. He laid Hoke down on the bed and removed his left boot. Ellen breezed in behind him, followed by her daughters with the servants hovering in the hallway, scandalized that Quashee and Cassius should be in the Master's bedchamber.
"I did it, Cassius," said Hoke.
Over now, said Cassius.
"My fault, mea culpa, I did it. You try to be a good master, you do not mean to kill, they are your property," said Hoke.
With any luck, he'll live, said Cassius.
"I love them all, you understand," said Hoke.
You're tired, said Cassius.
"You most of all."
You'll sleep.
"Oh Lord I killed her."
Cassius stopped then, the second boot halfway off, and he moved up near Hoke's face, put his hand on Hoke's forehead and felt fever.
Who did you kill? said Cassius.
"Lord forgive me. We both did, we both killed her."
Emoline?
"Emoline?" said Hoke. "What do you mean Emoline?"
No, thought Cassius, it had not been Hoke. He had known it before, but this made it final. Cassius weighed what Hoke was saying, and suddenly knew Hoke spoke of Tempie Easter. Both Cassius and Hoke had been involved in her sale, and her life expectancy had grown suddenly short. Perhaps Hoke had had news about her from Lucas Force, the slave trader.