As the man rode up, he glanced over at me from up on his horse with a look of disdain, like I was a dog or something. He continued straight on toward the house, dismounted, threw his reins over the rail as he paused to glance around at the house and barn and grounds, then slowly climbed the steps to the porch and knocked on the door.
As I usually did when Katie had to talk to someone, I tried to stay as close as I could without arousing too much suspicion, so that I could hear what was going on. Katie often said, ââStay close to me, MaymeâI might need you.'' She always talked like I was the brains of the partnership, but
she
was the mistress of Rosewood now, even though she was only sixteen, and all the rest of us knew it.
Katie came to the door, opened it, and looked out to see a man standing there she recognized. Even from where I stood I saw her eyes widen and her face go white.
ââI see you recognize me,'' he said gruffly.
ââUh . . . yes, sir . . . hello, Uncle Burchard.''
ââYou're Kathleen, I take it.''
ââYes, sir.''
ââYou've grown some since I saw you.''
ââYes, sir.''
ââI came to see your daddy.''
ââHe's not back from the war yet.''
ââNot backâthe war's been over almost two years.''
ââYes, sir.''
ââI heard that your father came back and then left again to work in the North.''
ââOh . . . yesâuh, that's what I meant . . . that he wasn't back to stay. He just came for a few days before he left again.''
ââWhat about your brothers?''
ââThey're not back yet either.''
ââWhere in blazes are they?''
ââWe don't know, sir.''
ââAll right, then,'' he said in a frustrated tone, though it seemed like what he had expected to hear all along, ââgo fetch your ma. I need to talk to her.''
ââShe's not here either, Uncle Burchard.''
ââWhat!''
ââShe's visiting a sick neighbor, sir.''
ââI see,'' the man said, then paused and looked about, rubbing his chin for a moment. ââWell, tell her I called and that I'll be back.''
ââDo you, uh . . . want to come in, Uncle Burchard?'' said Katie. ââWould you like something to eat or drink?''
ââNo, don't bother. Just tell your ma I'll be back to see her.''
ââYes, sir. When, Uncle Burchard?''
ââI don't know, maybe tomorrow.'' He turned to leave.
ââAre you going home now?'' asked Katie.
ââNo, of course notâit's too far.''
ââDo you want . . . uh, to stay here, Uncle Burchard?''
He paused, seemingly surprised at Katie's offer of hospitality. Not half so surprised as I was! What if he said yes!
ââNo, that's all right,'' he said after a few seconds. ââThanks anyway, but I'll make my own arrangements.''
He continued on down the steps to his horse, threw me another unfriendly look, and a minute later was riding away out of sight.
T
HE INSTANT HE WAS OUT OF SIGHT
, K
ATIE CAME
running toward me.
ââMayme . . . that was my uncle Burchard from Charlotte! He's the one I've been telling you about all this time!''
ââI overheard a little,'' I said.
ââWhat are we going to do? Did you hear him . . . he's coming back. He's not like the others. He's going to expect to see my mother.''
ââWhat do you think he wants?''
ââI don't know,'' said Katie.
ââI reckon we'll have to think about this a spell.''
ââI wish Uncle Templeton was here!''
We did think about it the rest of the day, without much success in coming up with any ideas. About the only thing we thought to do was try to hide Katie's family's graves as best we could. Katie's uncle hadn't noticed them, but he would eventually. The result was that when he arrived at Rosewood again about midmorning on the next day, there were a bunch of straw bales piled around the stones. Katie had been nervous the whole time and didn't know what else to do but what she always didâsay that her mother was gone again.
She did. But it was clear enough her uncle didn't like it.
ââDidn't you tell her I was coming?''
ââYes, sir. But you didn't say when, Uncle Burchard.''
ââWell, then, this time you can tell her I will be back this afternoon.''
ââI'm sorry, sir,'' said Katie, ââbut she won't be back.''
An exasperated curse came from her uncle's lips.
ââWhy in blazes not!'' he half shouted.
ââShe needs to stay until Mrs. Thurston is better.''
ââWho made her nursemaid over the whole county! I'd think she'd have better things to do with Richard gone. And I suppose you have nothing more to tell me about your father's whereabouts?''
ââNo, sir.''
He drew in a breath, irritated but not knowing what to do, and glanced around.
ââThe place looks run-down,'' he said. ââWho's doing all the work, who's planting the crops and bringing them in? Who's tending the livestock?''
ââWe all do, Uncle Burchard. And we get people to help with the crops when we need them.''
ââHired darkies, you mean?''
ââYes, sir.'' Something told Katie he wouldn't be pleased to hear that the ne'er-do-well brother of his sister-in-law had been around slowly taking charge of the place.
ââAll right, then,'' he said with another sigh. ââI'll give your mother two days to get your sick friend back on her feet. You tell her I'll be back morning after next, and I want to talk to her. I don't care if your neighbor is
dying
âyou tell her to be here! You got that, Kathleen?''
ââYes, sir,'' said Katie. Her uncle turned again and left. Katie was still standing on the porch.
We went into the kitchen and sat down. I pumped Katie a glass of water and she drank it down in three swallows. It seemed to bring her back to herself.
ââI would like you to ride into town, Mayme,'' she said at length. ââTake an extra horse and ask Henry if he could come out. We need to talk to him. I don't know what to do. I'd almost forgotten what it was like before Uncle Templeton came.''
Henry came out that same evening on the horse Katie had sent for him. I'd only told him briefly about the situation earlier, but he'd been involved with us long enough to know Katie's fear that her uncle might try to take Rosewood from her. So as Katie told Henry about her uncle's visit, he just sat and nodded as he took everything in.
ââI lied to him, Henry,'' said Katie finally, slowly getting tearful. ââWe've been trying so hard all this time to do the right thing, but look what it's led to. I thought with Uncle Templeton here, the lying was all over. But suddenly there I was not telling the truth again. Yet at the same time, I'm afraid to tell him the truth.''
Henry sat thinking a minute or two.
ââAh reckon dat's a trial ter bear, all right,'' he said. ââTryin' ter do da right thing's mighty hard sumtimes. Ain't easy ter walk an upright life. Lot easier not ter worry 'bout truf an' right. But w'en a body wants ter live by truf, sum er life's questions git a mite mo complercated. Yer facin' one er dose now.''
ââWhat am I going to do, Henry?'' asked Katie in almost a pleading tone.
Again Henry was thoughtful.
ââYou got ter listen ter yo heartâwhat does yo heart tell you is da right thing? Wha'chu think
God
wants yer ter do?''
ââI don't know!''
ââBut you think lyin' ter yer uncle's wrong. Ain't dat what I'm doin' here? Ain't dat why you ax'ed fo' Henry's advice?''
ââI don't know. . . yes, it must be wrong, mustn't it?''
ââAh reckon mos' ob da time lyin's wrong, all right. Ah always figger what makes a lie a lie is tryin' ter deceive sum one fer a selfish reason. Ah reckon effen a man was tryin' ter hurt Jeremiah, I'd lie all day long ter keep him from findin' him. But I don't figger dat'd be selfish ob meâI'd be tryin' ter protect my son, an effen dat was wrong, well, ah reckon I'd have ter talk ter God 'bout it later. So you gotter axâis you bein' selfish, Miz Kathleen?''
ââI don't know. I suppose a little. I'm just trying to think what's best for everyone. But I'm trying to find what's best for me too.''
ââBut ain't nobody's life in danger.''
ââExcept Emma's.''
ââYep, dere is dat, all right. You's right dere.''
ââWere you thinking about those things when you shot that man Bilsby?'' Katie asked, thinking back on Henry's loathing of guns, yet of how he shot a man to protect Katie and meâ as it turns out, the very man who killed our families.
A faraway look came into Henry's eye.
ââNo, Miz Kathleen,'' he said at length, ââah can't rightly say I wuz. Sumtimes things happen so fas' you gots ter trust yer instincts 'bout right an' wrong. Dat's why you gots ter practice so hard doin' right da res' ob da time, so dat w'en da time er crisis comes, ye'll do it wiffout thinkin' 'bout hit. I'll go t' my grave wonderin' ef I did da right thing. But at dat moment w'en I wuz lookin' out dat winder wiff dat gun in my han's, ah wuzn't 'bout ter see Miz Mayme, an' maybe you too, killed in front ob my own eyes when I cud stop it.''
Henry paused and sighed at the memory.
ââYep, Miz Kathleen,'' he said, ââright an' wrong's a mighty difficult thing ter see wiff clear eyes sumtimes, an' dat's da truf.''
ââThen you think I should tell my uncle . . . tell him everything?''
ââOnly you can say dat fo' sho', Miz Kathleen. A body's gotter listen t' God fer hisse'f. Dat's why I can't tell you what you oughter do, 'cuz I ain't wearin' yo shoes.''
Again it was silent a long time and finally Henry rose to go.
I don't know what Katie was thinking about what to do. We didn't talk about it again that evening or the next day. But she was unusually quiet and thoughtful the whole time.
W
HEN HER UNCLE CAME TWO MORNINGS LATER
, she went to meet him again at the door. I still wasn't sure what she was going to do. I couldn't help wondering if this was the day we'd get found out and everything would change. When Katie had told her uncle Templeton, that is, my fatherâit still sounds mighty strange hearing that word out of my own lips and writing it down and looking at it with my own eyesâhe was kind as he could be to Katie and me and the others. He is different for a white man, which makes me proud that he is my father.
But this uncle Burchard of hersâone look at him was enough to tell that he
wouldn't
be so considerate, especially to me and Emma. The way he looked at me reminded me of Master McSimmons, and I knew that once Katie told him, it would be the end of everything for us, and yet I didn't know if Papa could do anything to help. I know Katie was wrestling with her conscience, and that's a mighty powerful thing sometimes when truth is silently shouting at you from inside. Sometimes you gotta obey what it says no matter what the consequences.
Katie opened the door and stood staring at her uncle. I think she was planning to tell him but couldn't bring herself to it, or else just didn't know what to say. One look at her face, and Katie's uncle seemed to realize he was not going to see Mrs. Clairborne that day.
ââYour ma's not here, is she?'' he said brusquely.
ââNo, sir,'' replied Katie softly, looking down at the floor.
He shook his head in exasperation.
ââAll right, then, if that's the way you want it, I'll deal with this legally. I have tried to be civil and give you every chance to explain yourself, but if you won't, then you leave me no choice.''
I didn't know what he meant. He turned around and went back to his horse and rode away without another word, leaving Katie standing there, having planned to tell him but now watching him disappear without her saying a word. Whether she felt relieved or more guilty yet, I don't know.
We would find out soon enough exactly what Katie's uncle had meant by his parting words. This time he didn't even return to the boardinghouse in Greens Crossing where he was staying but rode straight to Oakwood to see the lawyer Mr. Taylor had told him about. Within the hour he was sitting across the desk talking to the attorney Leroy Sneed.
Of course, we didn't have any way of knowing about their meeting at the time, or knowing what they said to each other. We didn't find out those details till quite a bit later. All we found out then was the effect their conversation would have on our lives.
Anyway, their conversation went something like this.
ââI can't prove nothing, Mr. Sneed,'' said Katie's uncle Burchard after explaining the situation. ââBut I'm convinced my brother is dead. Can't nothing else account for it. He ain't the kind of fellow that'd just leave wife and kid and house without a word. They know the plantation ought to have been mine all along. They're trying to keep me from finding out. So what can I do?''
Sneed had, of course, long harbored his own suspicions and annoyances about what we were up to. But he kept them to himself for the present.
ââWithout proof of your brother's death, of course,'' Sneed began, ââand absent a will, the legalities are somewhat murky. I suppose you could file a claim for temporary guardianship as an intermediate measure, pending resolution of your brother's, shall we say, condition.''