Memories of Another Day (51 page)

"Last chance, Jeb Stuart," the bullhom cried. "Time's up!" A moment later the crackling sound of gunfire echoed through the forest; then the heavy shouting and cursing of men; more gunfire; then silence.

Jeb Stuart turned back to us. "By now they know the house is empty an' they'll turn the dogs loose."

He knew exactly what they were going to do. Suddenly the barking and yapping of hounds came wafting on the breeze. The sound of the dogs began to approach the hill. Jeb Stuart looked down at his wife. "Okay, Betty May, unless you want your baby mur-

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dered by those sons of bitches, you better get on outta here/'

She shook her head stubbornly.

*'Why don't we all get out of here?" I suggested* *'Fuck 'em. Let them have it. It's only whiskey."

Jeb Stuart looked into my eyes. "It's not only my whiskey they'd be takin', but my honor. If n a man won't fight fer his own, he ain't wu'th nuthin'."

Now the yapping of the dogs was even closer, and the sounds of the men scrambling through the brush of the path came clearly to our ears. They seemed very close when all the sounds stopped. For a moment there was silence. Then the bullhorn blasted its sound right up at us.

*'We got you spotted, Jeb Stuart. You don't stand a chance. They's five men down here, so jes' come on down with youah ban's up an' we'll settle ever'thin' peaceable like. Nobody'U get hurt."

Jeb Stuart was silent.

The sheriff's voice came through the bullhorn again. *'rm a peaceable man, Jeb Stuart. I'll make a deal with you."

Jeb Stuart cupped his hands. "What kinda deal, Sher'f?"

"Twenty-five dollars a barrel for that 'shine an' we partfrien's."

"No deal," Jeb Stuart shouted back. "Friendship don't come as cheap as that."

"Thirty dollars a barrel," the sheriff said. "Only 'cause I don' want to see Betty May git hurt."

"No deal," Jeb Stuart shouted.

"Come on down an' we'll talk it over," the sheriff aid.

"You come on up yere 'thout a gun an' we'll talk," Jeb Stuart shouted.

There was a moment's silence; then the sheriff replied. "Show yerself; I'm comin' up."

"You start comin' up 'n'en I'll show," Jeb Stuart replied.

"Fm on my way," the sheriff called.

'This is it." Jeb Stuart turned back to us. ''Betty May, now you git outta here with that baby."

Betty May stared at him for a moment, then suddenly turned and thrust the child into my arms. "Jonathan will take her. I'm stayin' with you." She picked up the hunting rifle from the ground where he had left it to take the automatic.

I stared at him for a moment; then he nodded heavily. "It's not your fight, Jonathan. Take the baby an' git outta here."

I didn't move.

'*Do as he tells you, son. This is what you came back for. The child you never made.'*

The sheriff's voice seemed to come from almost directly in front of us. "I'm out here, Jeb Stuart. Show yourself."

Jeb Stuart picked a long dead tree branch from the ground. Holding it as far away from himself as he could reach, he rustled the bushes about a yard from where he was standing. The morning air screamed as a murderous gunfire tore through the bushes where they thought he would ^pear.

"You sumbitclties!" he yelled, dropping to his belly and pushing the automatic rifle through the bushes in front of him. He squeezed the trigger. The rifle coughed in short, rapid bursts. "Yippee!" he yelled. "Blew the sumbitch into a thousand pieces."

Then he saw me. "Git outta here. Goddammit! You think I want my baby to die?"

It was all reflex. Without another word, I began running up the path behind the still, hugging the child to my chest, just as the shooting began again and the bullets began tearing into the still behind me. I heard

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the automatic rifle begin to fire again. I kept running, the breath tearing in my throat, without looking back. We had just reachfed the crest of the hill when the explosion came.

I turned just in time to see the ball of flame climb up into the sky, followed by a cloud of smoke, then another explosion and a whirling fireball cUmbing upward. I stared at it, my mouth open. One hundred and forty proof, he had said. All it would take was one spark.

I sank to the ground, catching my breath. It was over. They were gone. Nothing could survive an explosion like that. I lifted the comer of the blanket from the baby's face. She was sleeping peacefully, the milk from her mother's breast still warm in her little stomach. I felt the tears rush up into my eyes and bent down, kissing the baby's tiny forehead.

*'It will be all right, Danielle," I said, covering her again. "You're coming home with me." Then I got to my feet and made my way down the hill to the highway where Christina was waiting in the white Rolls convertible.

It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and the street in front of my house was parked solid with cars as I turned into it. I drove past the house, around the block and into the driveway of Anne's house, right behind mine. I looked across the seat at Christina as I turned off the engine. Danielle was asleep in the small car cradle resting on her lap. Next to her was a bottle filled with the formula the druggist had recommended at the stop we had made that morning in a shopping center in Vu-ginia. Two more bottles, filled, were in the thermos carrier, keeping warm. I opened the door and got out of the car as Anne came down from the back porch into the driveway.

She stood there looking at me. "I knew you'd come in this way," she said. ''I was waiting for you."

"Where are your folks?" I asked.

"They're over at your house," she answered. She came toward me and into my arms. I kissed her. "I missed you," she said. "I wondered if you would ever comeback."

"You knew better than that," I said.

She kissed me again. "Yes."

"Come," I said, leading her to the Rolls. Christina got out of the car. "Anne, this is Christina. Christina's mother was a very close friend of my father's. Christina, this is Anne; she's my special girl."

An instant warmth seemed to flow between them. They touched hands first, then impulsively kissed. "Is he all right?" Anne asked.

"He's fine," Christina smiled.

"Anne, look." I lifted the cover of the blanket and she saw the sleeping baby. "This is Danielle."

Anne's eyes were wide. "Whose baby is she? Where did she come from?"

''Mine now, I guess. You remember her father and mother. Jeb Stuart and Betty May?"

She nodded. "Yes. Where are they?"

It was hard saying the words. It was still too new. "They're dead." She looked puzzled. I could see more questions in her face. "I'll explain it later. Meanwhile, I was wondering if you could keep her in your house until after the wedding is over. I wouldn't like to mess up my mother's wedding if I don't have to."

"Of course." She turned to Christina. "We'll take her up to my room." She looked at me. "You better get over to your house. They have to be going crazy over there by now. The wedding's due to begin any minute and your mother told everybody that you had promised to be there."

I went over the fence as I always had. When I went up the steps of the back porch, I looked back. They were going into the house with the baby. I opened the kitchen door and went inside.

Mamie turned from the stove. For a moment I thought she would almost faint; her face went pale and gray. Then she ran to me and hugged me against her ample bosom. ''Jonathan, my baby. You come home. All grown up an' a big man jes' like your daddy!"

I kissed her, half laughing, half crying. "I don't know what all the fuss is about. I said I'd come home, didn't I?"

''Yoh mother will be so happy," she said. 'Til go fetch her."

"No. Let me go upstairs and wash up first. I don't want to scare hell out of her."

"I pressed yoh blue suit for you," Mamie said.

I went up the back stairs to my room and managed to get inside without running into anyone. From downstairs came the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. I headed right for the bathroom and a shave and shower. In less than ten minutes I was dressing. I looked at myself in the mirror. Mamie was right. I was beginning to look more Hke my father than ever. Carefully I tied the knot in my tie, sHpped on my jacket and went down the hall to my mother's room and knocked at the door.

Mother's voice came from inside. "Who is it?"

"Your son," I said.

The wedding was at five o'clock promptly. By seven all the guests had gone and only the family and the closest friends were left. My brother, Daniel, and his wife, Sally; Moses Barrington; Judge Gitlin and his wife, Zelda, and Anne's parents, the Forbeses.

Daniel looked over at Moses. "Are you sure we can really spare him for three weeks? Seems to me that big court case is coming up next week."

Moses went along with the joke. "You may be right. We'll have to go over that."

Jack grinned. "Come on, fellas."

I got to my feet. "I'll be back in a minute." I left the

room and went out the back door and over the fence. I went into Anne's house and up to her room.

The baby was lying on the bed, gurgling happily. Anne looked up at me. ''She's really beautiful."

Christina smiled. ''We were just talking. You may not get her back."

"Forget it," I said. "Wrap her up. We're going over to my house."

Anne held the baby while I backed the Rolls carefully out of the driveway and went around the block to my house. We went up on the front porch and rang the bell.

My mother opened the door. She stood there staring in astonishment. She looked down at Danielle in my arms, then up at me. For the first time in my life, she was speechless. I carried the baby into the room and everybody went crazy. The questions came at me from all sides. It was Judge Gitlin who finally got everyone to calm down.

I Hked him. In some ways he reminded me of my father. He always carried his own bottle of whiskey with him. In my father's case it had been bourbon, while the judge's drink was Scotch. And, Uke my father, once in a while he would forget himself and take a pull right from the bottle instead of pouring it into a glass while his wife, Zelda, yelled at him just as my mother had yelled at my father.

"Relax. Let the boy tell the story in his own way," he said, stroking thoughtfully at his iron-gray, neatly trimmed Van Dyke-ish beard. "You know," he added, "I'm tingling."

"What's that got to do with it?" Zelda demanded.

"Nothing," he said. "But I thought it was interesting." He smiled at me. I knew just what he was doing. He was taking everybody off base. "All right, Jonathan."

I gave Danielle to my mother. She gurgled happily into my mother's face. "We've got disposable diapers out in the car if she should need them," I said.

''She's just fine," Mother said, looking down into Danielle's face. ''She has such beautiful blue eyes."

Judge Gitlin smiled at me. He knew what I was doing. "Take your time, Jonathan. Start from the beginning."

I looked around the room. I chose my words carefully. I was not looking to hurt anyone's feelings. "It all began at Father's funeral. How much did any of us really know about him? Somehow all of us saw him differently. Because each of us in our own way saw only what we wanted to see in him. And each of us was right. He was all those things. But he was something more. More than any of us saw. He was himself."

I had to be talking a long time. I began with the morning that Anne and I had picked up the truck on U.S. 1 and finished with what had happened this morning. The clock in the foyer chimed ten as I finished.

I looked around at them. "They had never given the baby a name, so I did. Danielle, after Father. Now I want to keep her. She has no one else, no family. She hasn't even got a birth certificate. Jeb Stuart had never gone down to Fitchville to record her birth. They planned to do it when they went down to have her baptized. But it never happened."

Judge Gitlin nodded thoughtfully and took a pull at the bottle of Scotch. This time Zelda didn't yell at him. "It's not as easy as you make it sound, Jonathan," he said quietly. "First of all, you are a minor yourself and ^ there is no court in the land that would give you the custody of an infant child."

"Why not?" I asked. "All I have to do is file a birth certificate that I'm her father."

"You can't do that," the judge said. "There are many legal problems to surmount. A search would have to be conducted for any possible relatives or family. Then if there are any, consents would have to be obtained, and if not, she would be made a ward of the state until her disposition was settled."

^That's stupid," I said. "What's to stop me from just going off with her?"

"You know better than that, Jonathan." He looked at me thoughtfully. "But there might be a way to keep her close to you with much less of a problem. However, it would take the assistance of Jack and your mother."

"What's that?" I asked.

*'If they were willing to adopt her, I could find ways to expedite things." He paused for a moment. "But that is a decision they would have to make for themselves. It's something we can't urge on them."

I turned to my mother. She was looking down at Danielle and crying. Jack went over to her and knelt by her side. He looked up into her face, down at Danielle, then up at Mother again.

He cleared his throat. "I always wanted a little girl."

There was one more task to be done. The following month, two days before Thanksgiving, my brother, Daniel, and I took my father home. The first winter chill had frozen the ground, and while the grave was bemg dug, I walked Daniel up the hill to where the still had been.

There was nothing there but a black hole in the ground and a mass of tortured tubing burned and melted black with the earth. I stood there for a moment, then turned away. It seemed as if only yesterday I had been there, but yesterday was forever.

We walked back down to the cabin. It was already falling apart. The curtains Betty May had been so proud of were nothing but tatters, and the new paint was already peeling off the wood. Most of the windows were broken and the cold air blew through the room.