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Authors: David Fuller

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BOOK: Sweetsmoke
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    You're
welcome, she said, wiping a tear of laughter from her cheek.

    And
when you said about being a field hand-

    I'm
good with it. See my hand? Look there, see that? No, right
there,
by the
blisters. That's a callus.

    Does
resemble a callus, said Cassius smiling. Might small, but congratulations on your
first. Now listen, Quashee, maybe there's a way to get you up to the house.

    You
goin save everybody tonight?

    What,
me?

    I saw
you with Joseph.

    Aw,
that was, no, forget that, that was nothing.

    Taking
on Big Gus is a damn fool nothing.

    Yeah,
said Cassius, you got that right.

    Burning's
just about gone, pass the jug, said Quashee.

    After
she had fought down the bad liquor and could speak again, she said: I suppose
you know some folks don't like you.

    And here
I was thinking of running for governor.

    Be
serious now. Folks who'd like nothing better than to hurt you.

    Big
Gus, said Cassius nodding.

    The
hands listen to him.

    The
hands listen to the Driver.

    Just
thought if you were warned—

    I'll
be all right.

    You
even talk different with them. Not like you talk to me.

    Maybe
I do, said Cassius, knowing that he sometimes slipped into his field voice when
he was with the hands. He did the same with the planters.

    I'm
glad you don't talk that way to me, said Quashee.

    They
listened to the music roll in and out with the wind and passed the jug until it
was empty. Cassius appreciated her gift for silence. He had noticed it earlier
in the week and now saw it was a habit.

    I
hear you were married, said Quashee.

    Doors
and windows and shutters slammed shut. Cassius did not move his eyes for fear
of seeing himself fly away.

    Married,
said Quashee. Someone said—

    I
heard you.

    Quashee
nodded. A few moments passed before he spoke: I was married.

    What
was she like? said Quashee.

    Not
sure I know anymore. Maybe never did.

    Know
her long?

    Marriah.
Her name was Marriah. No, she came when Hoke bought the people of another
planter.

    Nice
when it's someone new.

    Cassius
looked at her, unsure of her meaning.

    So
you don't know everything about them and they don't know all about you. Not
like with someone you grew up with.

    He
understood the unspoken implication. Humiliations from planters, their
families, and every other white man, woman, and child in the county are more
easily borne when your new partner hasn't been witness to your history of
degradation, thus allowing you to maintain a small measure of dignity.

    What
do the cackling hens say about my marriage? said Cassius.

    Quashee
inspected the wild grass at her ankles.

    That
she had a white child Missus Ellen forced Master Hoke to sell. That Missus
Ellen whipped her something fierce, said Quashee.

    For
once they say the truth.

    They say
she died but I never did learn why.

    Those
women can't shut their mouths long enough to chew, said Cassius.

    Cassius
stared down the hill at the lights along the lane and in the barn, at the
drinkers and dancers, at the lovers and the drunken sleepers. He stared at all
that intense living that flourished despite oppression, and an image of
Marriah's face hovered just outside his vision. He was beginning to forget what
she looked like, and the harder he tried to bring back her face, the more it slipped
away.

    She
knew she couldn't run, said Cassius. They'd just keep bringing her back. Pretty
soon they'd hobble her. Couldn't be a mother after they took her son. Maybe she
also didn't think she could be a wife. She went to the place where the creek runs
deep under the little bridge. They were looking on the roads farther out, so
she had time.

    You
don't have to, said Quashee.

    Put a
large stone inside her dress. Few hours later the planters crossed the little
bridge and one of them saw something wave in the water. Buried her before they
let me out.

    Cassius
appreciated more than ever Quashee's ability to be silent. He sat as if alone,
hearing nothing. Gradually the sound of the wind returned. He was unsure as to
how long they had been sitting in silence; when he looked around, she was in
the same position, but the musicians now played a tune he had not heard from
the beginning.

    They
told you a lot, those women, said Cassius.

    Don't
blame them; I played the spy, asking questions here and there so no one noticed
I wanted to know about you.

    Cassius
started at the word "spy." Intelligence agent, he said without
thinking.

    When
I first came, I thought I recognized you, another bitter, damaged animal, and I
know enough to let the damaged ones be.

    I am
so very happy I helped you out with Big Gus, said Cassius with evident sarcasm.
And now you warn me that I bother him like a burr in his trousers.

    His
trousers, his shoes, maybe a few other places, said Quashee, returning his
smile. She passed the jug and said: So after Marriah, Emoline Justice nurses
you, and now she's dead and the whole world creeps around you.

    God
damn cackling hens.

    Oh, I
pieced some of it together on my own. You been all the talk since she passed.

    Emoline
brought me out of a dark place. Kept everyone away and just when I had to go
back, Cold Storm hit, must've hit you too, snowbound for a week. Extra healing
time so my mind could catch up to my body.

    Five
years ago? I remember that, but we called it Cox's Snow.

    What's
Cox got to do with it? said Cassius.

    Old
Dr. Cox from Lynchburg got caught a half mile from his place, frozen in his
buggy. Everybody there calls it Cox's Snow.

    Sounds
funny in my ear, maybe 'cause I didn't know Dr. Cox. More likely call it
Emoline's Snow.

    Tell
me about her.

    Well,
she was at Sweetsmoke and then Hoke let her be free and after a time she bought
her son, and was working to buy her daughters. Taught me to read.

    Cassius
was tempted to ask Quashee who had taught her to read, but he held his tongue.

    They
sat awhile surrounded by the wind continually changing its tune, chasing the
musical scale through leaves and branches.

    Looks
like your friend down there, said Quashee.

    Cassius
saw stumbling Weyman itching for a fight with one of the Swan of Alicantes, who
was wisely attempting to walk away from a drunk. Cassius got to his feet.

    I'll
see he gets home. I enjoyed our talk, Miss Quashee. I enjoyed it as well, Mr.
Cassius.

    As
Cassius walked down the hill, he sensed Quashee's eyes on his back, which at
that moment burned hotter than the Edensong rotgut.

    

    

    Cassius
held Weyman's arm around his neck and wrapped his other arm around Weyman's back,
walking him out past Eden- song's big house to the road. When Weyman drank he
rambled on about his early years, growing up in the cotton states. Weyman had
been one of the lucky ones. His master had died when Weyman was still a young
man and he had been sent north to Virginia as part of the inheritance of his
master's son. The son had no use for him and had sold him to Thomas Chavis, and
Weyman now lived a very different life. Intermingled with his horror tales of
Georgia, he complained about Tempie Easter intruding on his territory.

    She
sellin more shit to them trash whites and now they don't want what Weyman got
to offer, said Weyman. Cassius, y'all got to carve me some more of them little
soldiers so I can get my business back.

    Sure,
sure, said Cassius.

    I
could shoot that girl Tempie, said Weyman.

    Sure,
Weyman, you shoot her with your finger, said Cassius.

    Y'all
think I wouldn't? said Weyman, looking hurt, and then he shut his mouth.

    Most
of the planters and their children had gone inside, but the two masters, Hoke
and Judge Francis, remained on the front porch. They were impressively
inebriated.

    "You
know full well I purchased that land, Francis."

    "I
would lay odds you cannot produce a document."

    "I
never bet more than I can afford to lose," said Hoke. "And neither
should you."

    "Then
perhaps you recall that my grandfather, out of the kindness of his heart,
permitted Buffalo Channing to clear and plow that land, and Channing's children
as well, but never did he grant permission to Channing's grandson to sell
it!"

    "I
purchased that land from its rightful owner and I own it fair and square."

    "You
waited until he was beyond desperation and pilfered it for a song. You are a
land pirate, Hoke Howard!"

    "Land
pirate!" sputtered Hoke, and his ensuing words emerged coldly: "My
dear sir, I know that you will withdraw those injurious words and on your knees
beg my pardon!"

    The
women rushed from the house and surrounded the men, pulling them apart. Cassius
walked Weyman out of sight. Cassius might have found the battle between two
aging plantation owners comic were it not so fraught with dangerous
implications. The planter argument would likely lead to further unpleasantness,
and Cassius began to question if there might be some truth at the core of the
superstition. Was it possible that the arrival of bad luck was more than
coincidence? Francis Jarvis's son-in-law was a Confederate quartermaster, bad
luck indeed for the plantation Sweetsmoke.

    Cassius
scoured the area near the main road and eventually found Bunty, Weyman's fellow
slave, who also worked Thomas Chavis's farm. Cassius unloaded Weyman so he
could return directly to Sweetsmoke. He would need sleep—tomorrow promised to
be a busy day.

    

Chapter Five

    

    Cassius
stood at the edge of the clearing and drove temporary stakes into the ground.
The clearing was on a rise in an area of deep forest, a tract of land that was
being considered to be clear-cut for the following year's crop.

    At
dawn on that Monday, the day after the Big-To-Do, Hoke had accompanied Cassius
to the fields. As they walked, Cassius had listened to Hoke grumbling aloud,
"Goddamned Jarvis can't read French," and "Arrogant prig,"
and
"I'm
the one introduced Pompous Pilate to Victor Hugo."
Once in the tobacco fields, Hoke informed Mr. Nettle that Cassius would
handpick men to build fences and an enclosure in a location away from the barns
to conceal the livestock. Cassius had chosen Joseph among the men he knew to be
fluent with hammer and saw. Big Gus protested vehemently, going so far as to
drive his hand into a burlap sack to raise a handful of wriggling hornworms, as
if this constituted proof that Joseph was indispensable to the counterattack on
the blight. He misjudged Hoke's tolerance for confrontation and was promptly
silenced by Mr. Nettle. Big Gus closed his fingers into a fist, squeezing
hornworms that popped and oozed in his grip. Hoke looked away, Mr. Nettle
glared, and Cassius concluded that the Driver had severely blundered. As
Cassius led the men out of the fields, he saw Big Gus waving his arms in the
air, berating Abram.

    It
was unnecessary for Hoke Howard to tell Cassius of the need for haste; Cassius
had already anticipated this move and by daybreak had designed in his head an
enclosure that could be built quickly and strengthened later. Hoke informed him
that the livestock would arrive at the clearing by mid-morning. Cassius
cordoned off an area with stakes and rope, and at the arrival of cattle and
sheep, he compelled them into that area and continued to build around them. The
hogs would quickly follow, delivered by wagons. The sound of men and hammers
alarmed the beasts and they huddled behind ropes while Cassius built and
re-roped to open new space as individual sections of fence were completed.

BOOK: Sweetsmoke
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