Crossing Ebenezer Creek Page 8

  Zoe, stirring a pot, nodded back.

  “You stay put, Zeke,” said Mariah.

  “Yeah, Ma,” replied Zeke, zigzagging his timberdoodle.

  Dulcina was crouched beside him, caught up in silent talking. But Mariah didn’t worry. Dulcina never wandered off when engaged in that.

  Mariah didn’t appreciate the tight grip Jonah had on her arm. With his strides so wide, she had to practically skip to keep up.

  “Jonah, what’s happened?”

  He stopped between two live oaks dripping Spanish moss.

  Had Jonah found out where the march would end? Did he have news of a battle? But why would he take her aside for that? He’d want the rest to know too.

  Jonah looked so betwixt and between. Was he bearing good news or bad?

  He shoved his hands into his pockets, paced. “You said in freedom you would …”

  Mariah smelled ashes in the air. “Would what?”

  “Get on with life … like men and women do.”

  She had been dreading this moment, had fretted over what to say. Be direct, no beating around the bush—that’s what she had decided. But now, face to face with Jonah, in the clear light of day, Mariah lost her nerve. “We only on the road, Jonah. Don’t know how many more miles till we reach a place permanent, a place safe—”

  “We been free six days now. And you said in freedom me and you—”

  “I said … maybe, Jonah. Maybe.”

  “Wasn’t no maybe.” Jonah paced again. “I remember how you looked at me, so tender that day, like I matter to you.”

  “That’s not how it was,” Mariah snapped, then regretted that. She didn’t want to bruise Jonah.

  Mariah tempered her tone. “Jonah, you always have, always will matter to me.” Now Mariah paced. “And naturally I was lookin’ at you tender that day. Your ma wasn’t in the ground two weeks.” She swallowed. “You were all jumbled up inside.”

  Jonah took Mariah by the shoulders, his touch gentle. “Never been jumbled up when it come to you.”

  Those had been days of confusion for Mariah too. Even then, when her life was so cramped, so bitter and Jonah so thoughtful … She had worried that maybe something was wrong with her. Maybe she was unnatural. After all, Jonah was a good man. Why didn’t she love him? But she knew she didn’t. And she thought it more unnatural, downright wrong, to take up with a man she did not love.

  When her ma told her a day would come when big boys and even men would notice her, Mariah had taken to heart some strong advice.

  “Don’t let just any man have your grace.” Patience was spinning flax. “Mariah, you keep yourself for a good man.” Mariah could hear the wheel rattle and whirl, rattle and whirl. “A good man. Like your pa. On top of him being good, he needs to be a true love.”

  “How to know a true love?”

  “When you get beyond the moonstruck stage and you hit a rough patch, but find you can’t stay mad at him for long.”

  Mariah had never been moonstruck over Jonah. But back when his ma passed, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth. Then Mordecai’s vow came to mind.

  “Not until I’m free,” she had told Jonah so as not to hurt his feelings. “Not unless I’m free will I take a man or bring a child into this world.” When Jonah asked if he would be that man if freedom came, Mariah had said, “Maybe.” She hoped Jonah would lose interest, get impatient, go court one of the girls on the Ramsey or Rucker place. Like then, so now, Mariah couldn’t tell Jonah the truth.

  She wriggled out of his grasp, took a step back, folded her arms across her chest. “Jonah, we not fully free.”

  “What you mean we ain’t fully free?”

  “True, we out from under Callie Chaney, but—”

  “We free, Mariah, we free!”

  “Not fully, Jonah!” Mariah paced again. “The way I see it, the way it sometimes feels, it’s like Yankees are our masters now. We wake, eat, march, halt, sleep all on their say. Ever at their mercy.” Mariah stopped, looked up at Jonah. “How you know we won’t get split up, you sent to be with a different regiment, brigade, or—”

  “Captain Galloway won’t let that happen.”

  “Captain Galloway got ones above him.”

  Jonah shoved his hands back into his pockets. “I feel it in my bones, Mariah, we’ll get to full freedom … have a … have new tomorrows. Won’t be beggarly, neither.” Jonah stepped toward Mariah. “I looked out for us.”

  What on earth was he talking about?

  “It’s what I signaled right before we left the Chaney place. I didn’t tell Yanks all where Miss Callie had me hide things.” Jonah smiled wide. “I snuck away some. Small things. Spoons, forks, match safe, little box like a casket, case for her visit cards, one of the judge’s flasks, things like that … Judge’s gold watch. Got that too.”

  Mariah was shocked. She never expected such cunning from Jonah.

  “That ain’t all.” He reached into his vest pocket, brought out a twenty-dollar gold piece.

  “Where’d you get that?”

  “From where Miss Callie had me hide it in the henhouse.”

  Mariah knew the price of some things from being Miss Callie’s pack animal during her spur-of-the-moment trips to Milledgeville to visit with kin and spend big at the clothing store, tailor, confectionary, dry goods store, and the shops where she bought liquor and bitters. Mariah knew the price of clocks, tinware, and sundry other items from the peddlers who called at the back door. She imagined the food, the clothes—the land—that one gold coin could buy.

  “Got five more like it.”

  There was something weaselly about the look on Jonah’s face. Something unsavory. Like a soldier sidling up to a fancy girl. Mariah took a step back.

  “There’s things I lack, Mariah. Never learnt to read. Not good with words in speech. But one thing I know, I can take care of you—and Zeke. Was y’all I had my mind on when I took the silver, the gold.”

  “Mighty sweet of you, Jonah, but—”

  From another pocket Jonah brought a gold spray of posies, a diamond at the center of each flower. He held the brooch out to Mariah. “For you.”

  “I don’t want that!” Mariah backed away, remembering the pinpricks.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I want nothing that belonged to that woman.”

  Jonah pushed his hat back on his head, ran a hand across his brow. He laughed.

  Was he mocking her? “What’s so funny?”

  “You.” Jonah put the brooch back into his pocket. “You say you want nothing that belong to that woman?”

  “Still don’t see cause for laughter.”

  “Mariah, you belonged to that woman. I belonged to that woman. Your brother belonged to that woman.”

  “Your point?”

  “If we don’t belong to her no more, then what I carried off don’t neither.”

  Mariah’s arms were folded across her chest again. She knew what was coming when Jonah’s eyes lingered on her lace-up boots.

  “You know what else?” he sneered. “Them boots didn’t drop down from heaven. They once belonged to somebody. Somebody like Miss Callie, I reckon, yet you was mighty pleased to—”

  “That’s different!” Mariah snapped.

  “How?”

  “They didn’t belong to Miss Callie!” Mariah looked away. If only she could make Jonah go away. “And I had need of better shoes.”

  “Wasn’t the gift. Was the giver!” Jonah yelled.

  “You sound crazy.” For the first time in her life Mariah was afraid of Jonah.

  Nostrils flared. His footsteps were heavy as he paced, eyes lashing fury. “I see how you look at him!” Jonah muttered. “Always talkin’ to him!”

  Mariah turned her back on Jonah, stepped away.

  “Look at me, Mariah!”

  A few steps on she looked over her shoulder. Jonah was charging.

  Mariah spun around. “I know you not about to lay a hand on me!” Now she was breathing
hard. Now her eyes were lashing fury. “You don’t rule me, Jonah! You have no say in how I look at anybody, who I talk to, what I put on my own two feet!”

  “No, Mariah, no! Not tryna rule you,” Jonah said softly. “It’s jus’ that you, me, we come up together. Know each other. Have the same story. Caleb’s different. He’s—”

  “Don’t start that again!”

  “Mark my word, sumpin’ ain’t right.” Jonah snorted. “He hidin’ sumpin’. Got an air about him like he had some rule. You ask me, I say Caleb was a driver.”

  “That’s foolishness, Jonah!” Mariah was fit to be tied. And so tired.

  Tired of doing her business and helping Zeke do his in the woods.

  Tired of the contortions she had to go through to keep herself and him halfway clean.

  Tired of the smell of old folks who couldn’t help wetting themselves and the folks, young and old, who came down with the flux.

  Tired of colicky, mewling babies.

  Tired of the stench of burning timber, steel, cotton.

  Tired of bracing for cannon boom, rifle fire.

  Tired of seeing turkey buzzards circling carcasses of hogs and cattle Yankee butchers left behind.

  Tired of worrying about being seen as useless.

  And now so tired of Jonah. “All Caleb’s done for us day in, day out, and you run him down?” Now Mariah was angry enough to tell Jonah the truth. “Jonah, I can’t see gettin’ on with life like men and women with you. I don’t love you, Jonah.”

  Mariah headed for their campsite. She didn’t get far before Jonah caught up with her, grabbed her by the arm.

  “Get off me!” Mariah shouted, loud enough for others to hear. She strode on faster. As she did, she saw Mordecai and Chloe rise from an ammunition crate, Zoe shake her head.

  She was a few yards away from them when Caleb pulled up to their campsite.

  He jumped down from the buckboard. “Mariah, what happened?”

  Mariah shook her head. “Nothin’.” She sniffled. “Jonah—we just had a—a little mix-up.”

  Zeke looked up, scrambled over. “Ma cry?” He hugged Mariah around the waist.

  Mariah patted her brother’s head. “I’m not cryin’, Zeke,” she cooed.

  Zeke handed her his timberdoodle.

  “Thank you, Zeke.” Mariah gave the bird a halfhearted zigzag, then stopped when she looked up.

  Jonah was charging.

  And eyeballing Caleb hard.

  DRIVER!

  Caleb looked up, too, saw Jonah in a rage, a rage rising with his every heavy step. In a few wide strides, Jonah was within a few feet of him, shaking his hat in his face. “Say what kind you were!”

  Caleb took a step back. “Whoa now, Jonah. Don’t know what you mean.”

  Jonah got within a foot of Caleb.

  Mordecai stepped in between them. Facing Jonah, he extended a hand, palm out. “Son, you best go somewhere and cool off.”

  Caleb looked around, saw Zoe stop stirring a pot, saw Chloe frowning, saw Mariah take Zeke by the hand. “Come now, let’s have us a little excursion.”

  “No, Mariah!” yelled Jonah. “You stay and hear this thing out.”

  Mariah stopped in her tracks but kept her back to Jonah.

  “I ask you one more time!” Jonah was breathing hard. “Say what kind you were!”

  “I think I’ll be saying good night.” Caleb headed for the wagon.

  “You stand and answer me!” Jonah shoved Mordecai aside, grabbed Caleb by the collar, then punched him in the face. Caleb’s hat went flying. His body crashed into the wagon.

  Mariah spun around. “Jonah, what in the world is wrong with you?”

  Balance back, Caleb snatched up one of the fence rails in the wagon, raised it, then let it drop. He put his hand to his left cheek, winced, picked up his hat from the ground.

  Mordecai again stepped between Jonah and Caleb. Zoe and Chloe rushed over. Hagar and others camped nearby gathered around.

  “Nothin’ wrong with me,” shouted Jonah. “It’s him!” He pointed at Caleb, then jabbed at the air with each word. “I say he was a driver!”

  Hagar gasped. “Driver? He was a driver?”

  Caleb backed away as others within earshot came over. He guessed that most in the crowd had never known of a driver who wasn’t a low-down, dirty dog, a traitor to his people. Short-changed people on rations. Lied on people so they’d get the lash.

  Hagar scurried over to the wagon, grabbed a fence rail meant for firewood, made it a menace. She thumped the ground. “Driver!”

  Others reached for fence rails, thumped the ground too. “Driver! Driver! Driver!” they chanted. Some just stamped their feet. “Driver! Driver! Driver!” The crowd swelled.

  Caleb looked around, confounded, as the people closed in.

  Hagar in the dress he’d provided.

  Hosea holding the banjo he’d found for him.

  Even Ben in the pants and waistcoat he’d provided.

  Rachel, Jedidiah, Effie, John, Leah, Elisha, Carrie, Tom, Bill, Emmanuel, Emmaline, and a host whose names he didn’t know—Caleb had done most all of them good turns along the way. But none of it meant anything now. Worst of all was the look on Mariah’s face.

  Caleb saw a flicker of heartbreak, a flash of sorrow. Does she truly think I was a driver?

  “Have y’all lost your minds?” Caleb shouted.

  “Driver! Driver! Driver!”

  “I wasn’t no driver! I swear!”

  Mordecai stepped in. “Hagar, Hosea, everybody, just calm down now. Go about your business.”

  “I don’t believe him!” fumed Jonah.

  “Jonah! That’s enough!” cried Chloe.

  “I swear, Jonah,” said Caleb calmly. “I wasn’t no driver. Don’t know how you ever got such a notion.”

  “You got bossman ways about you!” Jonah yelled.

  “No driver, Jonah.”

  Jonah turned to the crowd. “Y’all notice he got a quality of clothing not like the rest of us?”

  “Amen to that!” somebody called out.

  “Y’all see how he friendly with Yankees?” Jonah was shouting now.

  “Seen it!” somebody else called out.

  “Driver! Driver! Driver!”

  The crowd had grown larger.

  Caleb feared for his life—he had to put the fire out now. “I couldn’t have been a driver, people!” he shouted. “I wasn’t a slave. I was born free.”

  “Order!” Captain Galloway roared. “Order!” He was on his bay steed. Privates Sykes and Dolan, both clean-shaven, trotted behind him.

  “Order!” Captain Galloway shouted again. He pointed at Jonah. “Take that man away. Put him in the stocks!” Then to the crowd: “We have trouble enough with the Rebels,” he said. “We need no trouble from the colored.”

  Caleb watched Hagar and the others hurry back to their campsites. Mordecai and the Doubles only stepped back. Mariah didn’t move. Now it wasn’t heartbreak and sorrow that Caleb saw on Mariah’s face, but shock. Anger too.

  Caleb stepped over to Captain Galloway. “A word, sir?”

  Captain Galloway nodded.

  “No harm was really done here.”

  “Really?” said Captain Galloway, inspecting Caleb’s eye.

  “Just a small misunderstanding.”

  “Small misunderstanding?”

  “Yes, sir,” Caleb replied, looking Galloway eye to eye. “My fault.”

  Up jumped Zeke. He hurried over, pulled on the captain’s coat. All smiles, he offered a salute.

  Caleb knew Captain Galloway didn’t want to put Jonah in the stocks. He had done it once to a colored man outside Atlanta, punishment for trying to steal a rifle. “Made me feel like a filthy slaveholder,” the captain later told Caleb. And now Caleb could see that the captain was looking to maintain order and save face.

  “Privates Sykes, Private Dolan,” said Captain Galloway, “first take him to my tent for interrogation.”

  “Thank you, si
r,” Caleb whispered.

  When Galloway rode away, Caleb looked around and saw people stealing glances at him, guilty looks on their faces.

  And Mariah was gone.

  TIGHTROPE WALKER

  “Did you know Caleb was always free?” asked Chloe over supper.

  “No,” Mariah replied, head down, embarrassed.

  “I’m sure he kept it from you for a good reason,” said Mordecai.

  But what possible reason could he have had? Mariah asked herself. She couldn’t help but feel betrayed, made a fool of, even.

  After supper Chloe handed her a sliced-up potato in a bandana and Zoe a small kettle filled with soup.

  “You should go see about him,” said Chloe.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” replied Mariah.

  “What did I say?” Chloe had her hands on her hips now.

  Mariah relented, realizing that a small part of her did wonder how Caleb was faring. But more than that, she wanted answers.

  She walked from group to group, bandana in one hand, kettle in the other.

  “Up thataway,” somebody said.

  “Cross yonder,” another told her.

  The wind was at her back when she found Caleb sitting outside his tent. Like every night before, a thousand campfires were crackling.

  “Why you never told me?”

  His shrug hurt.

  “Captain Galloway know?”

  Caleb nodded.

  That hurt worse. After all she’d shared with him. She handed Caleb the kettle, the bandana, and got furious when he barely looked up.

  “The less they know about me, the more I learn. If they think I was a slave, I’m invisible, I’m—”

  “Like cattle? Like me?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Somewhere in the darkness, a man sang “Go Down, Moses.”

  “Caleb, I thought we were …”

  He looked up. “What?”

  Mariah looked away. “Well, friends. But now it’s like I don’t even know you.”

  “Some soldiers likely to think a free man uppity. Could make me a target.”

  “But me? I’m no Yankee soldier.”

  “Didn’t want it to get out. After I told Galloway I regretted it.”