Sweetsmoke (15 page)

    No
sir, Lord warn't drunk when he wrote my song.

    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?

    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.