All aboard, p.19
All Aboard, page 19
In the shack by herself, Josie prayed. “Dear Lawd, if you decide to take me, please … please … let my boy grow up healthy and happy. Can you find a way to keep him safe—safe from a mean Massa? Please, Lawd, don’t let none of these men have they way with my boy. I want my boy to grow up to be a good man, a great man. They say you can do miracles, Lawd, and I believe them. Can you please protect my little boy? And, Lawd, can you please watch over my Buck. He’s a good man. I love him, but I know he can be just as happy with someone else. Send him a nice gal to love him back. I thank you, Lawd, for watchin’ over me and my family. Amen.”
Josie cried as she prepared herself for work. She dried her eyes when she figured Buck and Benji were on their way back.
A short while later, the two returned. Buck could tell by the way Josie was avoiding his eyes that she must have been crying.
“Did you eat something, Josie?”
“I’m not that hungry today, Buck. You sit down and eat some of this corn pone and molasses. I got you a nice piece of bacon and some leftover possum. I put some possum in yo’ gourd, too. That oughta taste real good at mealtime.”
Josie sat and watched him eat.
“You oughta put somethin’ in yo’ stomach, Josie.”
She could hear the fear in his voice so, to please him, she took some of the corn pone and molasses and forced herself to eat it, hoping it would stay down
Buck began to ready himself for the new day. He got his rag and dipped it in a bowl of water, put salt on it, and cleaned his teeth. He got a larger rag, dipped it in the bowl, and washed his face. He decided which horn he would use that day. He picked up his two gourds and headed out. He took one last look at his family. “I’ll see y’all tonight. Do the best you can, Josie. I’ll talk to Massa again today. Promise.” He winked at Benji and headed out to wake up the slaves.
Josie got some rags for herself and headed for the door. “Benji, stay put ’til I come back. Lie down and rest ’til I get back.”
Benji gladly obeyed and flopped back down on his pallet.
Josie took this time to go to the slave’s toilet area. Most of the slaves were just waking up at this hour. The smell of feces and urine filled her nostrils and caused her breakfast to come up. She found herself a bush and relieved herself. Josie was glad no one had seen her. She didn’t want to bother the other slaves with her problems.
Josie came back to the shack and struggled to get herself ready for another day in the weaving shed. She cleaned her teeth and washed her face. She draped a thick shawl around her shoulders, covered her head with a faded scarf, got her two gourds for her midday meal, and braced herself for another fourteen- to fifteen-hour day. She sat at their table and waited for her husband to wake up the slaves.
“Now you behave yo’self, Benji. Do what Miss Mattie tells you. I’m gonna look for you ’round meal time to see if you and the other chillen at the trough.”
The rising horn sounded at 4:00 a.m., as usual. It was heard throughout the plantation. Candlelight shone from some of the shacks. Moaning came from some shacks. Spirituals sung softly came from others. The smell of food being prepared began to fill the air. Some slaves went to the well to get their supply of water for the day.
Buck was busy blowing his horn and yelling for the slaves to get up and get ready for another day.
Ol’ Cyrus rushed out of his cabin, still getting dressed. Crumbs of biscuits and jam were in his tangled, sandy-colored beard. With one hand holding up his pants and the other holding his cup of coffee, he seemed a little confused. He had been drinking most of the night, and he was in a foul mood. He stopped, put his coffee cup down, and buckled his belt. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his blue bandana, tied it about his unruly hair, and flung his wide-brimmed straw hat on his head. With coffee in hand, he hurried to the kennel to fetch his favorite hounds, Brute and Savage, before heading to the gin house to begin his day.
Buck, half asleep from being up with Josie the previous night, began his ritual of banging on doors with the butt of his rifle.
“Get on up! Get up and get gone! The cotton is waiting on you! It can’t pick itself! Move along! Let’s go! Get up, everybody! Miss Mattie gonna be waiting on them chillen down at the depot! Let’s get moving! Time’s a-wasting! That sun is about to raise its ugly head! We got us a long, hot day ahead! Let’s go! Hear tell the sun’s going to boil today so let’s get that cotton picked in a hurry!”
Buck passed by the slave well. The two slaves who were ordered to clean up the area outside the washhouse were there. He heard them talking and decided to join them for a moment.
“Me and my boy was off fishing yesterday,” Buck said. “I heard the situation here was awful.”
“Yeah, Buck,” one man said. “That boy lost too much blood and too much flesh.”
The other young man joined in. “Yes suh, Buck, the gurglin’ o’ blood from his th’oat wasn’t a good sign. I get scared when I hear that sound. That a sign that death is on his way.”’
“I sure hope McMyers doesn’t wait until midnight and then throw R. C.’s body in a hole in the woods. He’s known for doing that. We might not ever find his burying place.”
“You right about that, Buck.”
Miss Cindy approached and joined the conversation. “His mama is jus’ beside herself. That po’ woman cried all night long. How she gon’ work the field today, I don’t know.”
Buck knew he had to move on. “I gotta go. Let me know if you hear somethin’.”
“You think his mama knew, Buck? He couldn’t run alone. Who you think he ran with?”
“Don’t know, Miss Cindy. Don’t know.”
Buck continued on his assignment. “Let’s go! That cotton is waitin’.”
Ruth moved slowly about her shack, almost trancelike. She prepared her gourds for another long day ahead. She felt the pain of Odie’s wrath all over body. Her eyes were swollen from a long night of regret.
I tried my best, R. C. You was a good boy. Jus’ a big ol’ baby is what you was. You never meant no harm to nobody. I ain’t never gon’ forgit you, R. C. I ain’t never gon’ forgit that look of fear on yo’ face either. I’m gon’ take that to my grave. Yes, suh. I’m gon’ have to live with that. Lawd, please forgive me if I caused R. C.’s death. I love you, R. C. I tried my bes’ to hep you.
The day began as usual on the plantation. Weary bodies reported to the gin house to pick up their sacks around 4:30 a.m. Everyone was in line and accounted for—all except one.
“Where the hell is Lil Jesse?” Ol’ Cyrus growled.
Ruth and the other field hands had blank expressions. No one said a word.
“Where the hell is he? Buck! Where’s Lil Jesse?”
“Don’t know, Cyrus. He’s usually on time. Slim, run and see if you can find his ass. Hurry!”
Ol’ Cyrus chewed on a wad of tobacco and kicked the dirt. What the hell is going on? All I need is to have McMyers come down hard on me, he thought. I know we behind in our count. I know I didn’t come when he needed me yesterday. I know I been drinkin’ a bit too much lately. Heard tell he upset with me. This is just another damn headache I got to deal with. Where the hell is Lil Jesse?
“Ol’ Beau, go and look for Lil Jesse. Check all ’round. Check the tannin’ shed. Hurry now!”
“Yes, suh.” Beau limped his way into the darkness, headed for the tanning shed.
Slim hurried over to Lil Jesse’s shack. There was no sign of him. That area of the slave quarters was empty. His aunt and uncle had long gone to their workstations. He knocked on the door, just in case Lil Jesse had overslept. No answer. Slim opened the door and saw three empty straw pallets in the early morning light.
He checked the bushes, in case Lil Jesse was still relieving himself. Sometimes a slave would get the runs and couldn’t leave the bushes and would be late in lining up to get his sack for the field. Slim didn’t stay long; the area used for shitting and urinating and vomiting had such a foul stench that no one stayed long unless they had no choice. Flies buzzed everywhere. Slim had to be careful not to slip on the wet grass as he shooed the flies away.
Slim next checked the barn, the stable, the corn crib, the looming shed. He even checked down by the family cemetery. No Lil Jesse.
Slim was becoming excited at the thought of someone having the courage to escape. That thought had crossed his mind more and more lately. At every stop he made, he hoped he would come up empty-handed. He said to himself, “Run, Lil Jesse! Run! I sho’ hope you make it up No’th.”
Before heading back to Buck, Slim decided to check the area around the smokehouse and the chicken coop. He saw Mavis looking out the kitchen window. She quickly hurried out the kitchen door, wiping her soapy hands on a faded apron.
“Slim!” Mavis whispered as loudly as she thought safe. She looked around her immediate area to see if they were alone. They were, except for the prying eyes of Big Aunty, who was keeping guard from the same window Mavis had used.
“Morning, Miss Mavis. Uh … how you fairin’?” Slim was caught off guard.
“Not so good, Slim. I need your hep.”
“Help? How can I help you, Miss Mavis? I’m always willing to hep.”
“You from Lou’sana, right?”
“Yes’m.”
Mavis approached a little closer. “You know all ’bout voodoo and potions and stuff, right?”
“Yes’m, I do.”
Mavis leaned in even closer.
Slim, feeling unsure of what was to come, backed away just a little.
“Can you help me kill Bunny?” Mavis whispered.
“What? Kill Bunny? Is you crazy? Massa loves that hound.”
“That’s why you got to kill him.”
“That’s why I got to kill him?” Slim was more concerned than confused. “You OK, Miss Mavis?”
“My mind is very clear, Slim. I need Bunny kilt.”
“Massa hang anybody even think ’bout harming his Bunny. Think about what you askin’.”
“Slim, we ain’t got much time. You know how to poison that hound and no one be the wiser. I want to hurt Massa same way he hurt me. He kilt my baby girl, and he needs to pay. He needs to know how it feels to lose somethin’ you love. If you ask me, I think he loves that hound more’n he loves the Missus. He thinks the sun rises and sets on that mangy mutt.”
“You might be right, Miss Mavis, but it’s too dangerous. I don’t know.”
“Look, Slim, if you can’t come up with a potion, you can always use Jimsonweed or maybe—where you goin’?”
“I gotta hurry, Miss Mavis. They got me lookin’ for Lil Jesse. He didn’t show up at the gin house this mornin’ to get his sack. Don’t worry. I’ll come up with somethin’.” Slim hurried off into the dark, headed for the smokehouse.
Mavis rushed back to the kitchen, where she was met by the stern gaze of Big Aunty, standing with her hands on her broad hips.
“So, Miss Mavis. You tryin’ to get us both kilt? The mo’ people know about our plans, the mo’ dangerous it is. We don’t need no troublement.”
“No, Big Aunty, Slim ain’t gon’ get us in trouble. He jus’ said he would think of some way to help me. He’s from Lou’sana. They know all ’bout roots, and hexes, and potions, and goofy dust.”
“I sho’ hope you know what you’re talkin’ ’bout.”
Mavis nodded. “You and I gon’ be jus’ as surprised as evabody else when Bunny meets his maker. Now let’s go get them cows milked.”
Slim returned to Ol’ Cyrus and Buck empty-handed. The field hands had all headed to the cotton field. Beau had picked up his sack and was slowly making his way in the dark to the field. Slim could tell by the looks on their faces that Lil Jesse was still missing.
“I ain’t seen hide nor hair of Lil Jesse, Buck. I checked evawhere.”
Buck and Ol’ Cyrus looked at one another.
“Sound the goddamn horn!” Ol’ Cyrus yelled, his face now beet red.
Buck blew his horn rapidly, indicating an emergency. All work and all hands on the plantation stopped.
Odell came running from the Big House, hair disheveled, half dressed.
Odie came running close behind, a look of confusion on his face.
They both reached Ol’ Cyrus at the same time.
Odell took charge. “Cyrus, what the hell is wrong?”
“Can’t find Lil Jesse!” Ol’ Cyrus was breathing heavily, with sweat running down his forehead.
Odie hid the smile on his face.
“What the hell! Damn, damn, damn! Buck, handle it! Odie, round up all the hounds! Cyrus, we got to get us a posse!”
Odell motioned for Ol’ Cyrus to come closer. The two men huddled, Cyrus nodding his head as he listened.
“I’ll get the hounds ready, Pa!” Odie shouted as he ran off toward the pen.
Out of breath by the time he reached the pen, Odie could barely get out, “Billy Bob, get the hounds ready! They can’t find Lil Jesse!”
Billy Bob had the strangest look on his face. “Heck, I been tryin’ to wake ’em all morning, Odie. They ain’t budging.”
Odie pretended to be perplexed. “Well … we got to get ’em moving. I’m gonna get some fresh ham out the smokehouse and see if that’ll rouse them. Shake ’em while I’m gone.”
Billy Bob tried his best to wake the hounds. He took a stick and started tapping on them. No luck. The hounds were still under the influence of Miss Beulah’s joy juice.
Odie hurried back with a pail of ham pieces. He and Billy Bob poured cold water on the hounds. When they finally came to, they fed them the smoked ham. The hounds chomped on their meat slowly.
“Go get some clothes from Lil Jesse’s shack. Hurry!” Odie ordered.
Billy Bob took off as fast as he could.
“Wake up, Daisy! Wake up, Soldier! Bear, Blackie, Bullet, please wake up! What’s Pa gonna say? Oh, hell!”
Odie was able to get the hounds moving about in the kennel. He poured more cold water on them and stimulated their bodies with rubbing and shaking. When Billy Bob returned with the clothes, the two of them ushered the hounds outside the pen. After a few sniffs of Lil Jesse’s sweaty work clothes, the hounds slowly made their way to the pond.
Odell and his men were behind them now, anxious to find Lil Jesse. They followed the hounds as they slowly walked to the pond.
“Why them hounds so damn slow, Odie?”
“Don’t rightly know, Pa. Jus’ don’t know. Billy Bob says they was sound asleep this morning when he came. Couldn’t get ’em roused. Maybe they got some sort of bug. They’ll be fine in no time, Pa.”
“Why my hounds sick? Sometimes I wonder ’bout you, boy.” He stared at his son and then shook his head in disgust.
Needing to change the subject, Odie asked, “Where’s Bunny, Pa?”
“I don’t know what’s going on! Hell, Bunny was with me a few minutes ago. I’ve been worried ’bout that dog. He ain’t been himself. Let’s get a move on down by the pond! Odie, go check on my Bunny!”
Ol’ Cyrus hurried back to the barn to choose a good horse.
The hounds sniffed around the area and found the gray bundle Lil Jesse had left at the foot of the tree. Odell looked inside. All he saw were clothes belonging to the Missus. “What the hell?”
“Ain’t no telling how that got here, Pa.”
Odell just stared at Odie, not sure if he should yell at him or give him the benefit of the doubt. He said nothing, but Odie could see the look, once again, of disappointment.
The hounds slowly meandered their way back to their pen, urged on by Billy Bob and Odie.
“Somebody’s gonna answer for this! Let’s ride! Buck, go get Ben and his men and tell ’em to ride down by that area behind the tanning shed. Oh, and tell Cyrus to get Henry, Deek, and Moby. Tell ’em to head into the woods. I’m gon’ head to the other side of the pond!” Odell started running back toward the Big House. “Let’s ride! I smell a hangin’, damn it!”
Odie and Billy Bob were silent as they headed back with the hounds. Billy Bob gave Odie the strangest look.
“What’s wrong, Billy Bob?”
“Don’t know, Odie. Things just ain’t addin’ up. That nigga wench tryin’ her best to get me to church service; them dogs gettin’ sick like that; R. C. tryin’ to run; Lil Jesse comin’ up missin’. I … don’t know.”
“Don’t worry. Everything will turn out all right, Billy Bob. Don’t worry.”
All that day, Ruth tried to keep her mind on filling her sack, keeping up with her group, watching out for rodents and insects, and avoiding the wrath of Ol’ Cyrus. Ol’ Cyrus was extra-agitated, having come back from his search for Lil Jesse emptyhanded. Buck was left in charge until he returned. Ol’ Cyrus didn’t give anybody a break. When he rode back, his whip hit the first picker he saw who looked like he was slacking off. His whip was flying everywhere.
As she picked, Ruth kept going over the events of yesterday in her mind. She reviewed her actions, and she believed she did all she could do to help Lil Jesse and R. C.
All day, she listened to the other slaves talk about R. C. and Lil Jesse. Some connected R. C.’s thwarted escape plan with Lil Jesse’s disappearance. Some did not. Best of all, she hadn’t heard a word about either one of them being caught.
“I saw R. C. at church. Looked like everything was fine. He looked real nice. His ma had him all spruced up. He was busy talking with his friends.”
“I saw him too. Never did see Lil Jesse. You think they cooked up some plan to run?”
“Naw. Who would run with R. C.? He’d slow you down. He wasn’t right in his mind. We all know that. Naw. If Lil Jesse ran off, he ran off by hissef. That’s the way I see it.”
“I ’speck you right.”
