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No Good Like It Is Page 16
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They brought their horses back to the rear of the store, as Honey re-joined the group. The boy was putting the old man’s body into the wagon.
The mother faced them, and said, “We will bury my man, then we will take you over on the ferry, and go with you.”
Jimmy blurted, “No, hold on…,” but Dobey raised a hand to silence him.
“Why?” he asked the woman, who was obviously agitated.
“We cannot stay. The Yankees will come, they will find these men are killed, they burn us down or kill us too. We must go to the river, and take the boat to New Orleans.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Marie-Louise Boisseau was no stranger to New Orleans. Born there in 1833, she was the daughter of her owner, Henri Boisseau, and one of his favorite slaves, the mulatto Annie Smith. Boisseau was a townsman, the owner of a large warehouse. Marie-Louise became a house slave, a favorite herself. At ten, she began helping her father in the office, soaking up knowledge like a sponge. She became pregnant at fourteen by Henri’s carriage driver, a huge slave named only Billy.
When Billy asked if she could be his woman, Henri had him beaten senseless and sold to a plantation in Alabama. Marie-Louise, five months pregnant, was sold to a riverboat captain, who traded her three months later to Bob Weathers for whiskey. When her boy was born in 1848, Weathers gave him his name. Two years later, Marie was born to them and by that time forty-two year old Bob Weathers was hopelessly in love with seventeen-year-old Marie-Louise. His previous wives, both whining, thankless wretches, and all three of their children died many years before, victims of various fevers or water moccasins.
Three years after Marie’s birth Weathers gave Marie-Louise a paper attesting to her freedom, as well as Robert’s and Marie’s. That won her undying loyalty, if not her love. She helped him build and develop his store and ferry business, and raised the children to be frugal, careful, appreciative, hard working, and respectful, and to never take their freedom for granted. “That freedom, it can go faster than it come, I guarantee,” she’d say, and often.
She pronounced Robert’s name “Ro-Bair,” and as he was a husky boy, Pop Weathers naturally began calling him “Bear,” and the older he got, the more it became him. Now at seventeen, he was almost six feet tall, and weighed over 200 pounds, all muscle. Marie, with her tawny complexion and sweet disposition, was, of course, “Honey.”
But Marie-Louise, now thirty-two years old and still strikingly handsome, had been the undisputed boss of this family for at least ten years, and she was not asking to go to New Orleans. She and her family were going. Perhaps these men would help; that was the only question.
***
Dobey, not knowing any of this yet, sensed it in her attitude and voice, and saw it in her eyes. She wasn’t debating, and her logic cut to the quick.
“What about your things here, your inventory?”
“We will load what we can in the wagon. That wagon, she have more space than you see. She have the “faux”-bottom, for smuggling. And we have a horse, and a mule, and these bastards, they have give us three horses more.”
Dobey and Jimmy noticed how quickly she joined them in ownership of the dead Yankees’ horses. “We share. We help each other,” she finished, with some finality.
Unconvinced, Jimmy asked, “Can that boy shoot and ride?” He nodded toward Robert, now digging a grave for his stepfather. “We might have to fight our way to the river.”
Marie-Louise nodded, and Honey spoke up. “Bear the bes’ tracker an’ hunter round here. One time, that ferry mule, he bite the horse. That horse, he bolt, jump that fence to the swamp. Bear, he track him all day, bring him back.”
“Ain’t no cows round here now ‘cept our milk cow. Soldiers take them all. My boy, he bring us all the venison we can sell or eat. An’ wild pig, too. Ain’t never had to eat squirrels.” Marie-Louise seemed to sense the tide was changing in her favor. “He strong, though he still growing. An’ he smart. I school bof’ of my children. Numbers, for the store, but read an’ write, too.”
“Give us a minute,” said Dobey, and he and Jimmy walked away for a quick conference.
“Thing is, Jimmy, I think she knows the river and the boat people. They’re gonna go anyhow. We might need the extra eyes and firepower, til we get on a boat. Maybe while we’re on it too, now we got this money.”
Jimmy shrugged agreement, and added, “I’m starting to think like a storekeeper again myself. There’s a lot of stuff here, horses, guns, boots and like. They’d help stock us up when we get to your mama’s store, even if we split some with these folks.”
“All right. You finish searching the bodies and their saddlebags. Collect their guns. We’ll redistribute them and the ammunition. I’ll lay down some rules for these folks, and get ‘em moving. I want to leave inside an hour.”
***
Dobey found Marie-Louise and Honey inside the store, and heard the last of her instructions to Honey. “And before you get those things from the house, you tell Robert, he don’t just put your Papa in the ground. He gets him that big coffin off the back porch. An’ put his bible in with him. Then bring that other coffin, the one Papa made for me, bring that here.”
“Why, Mama?” Honey asked, with a worried look.
“We hide more things in it, cher. Fool people some. Now move—these men will leave us, we don’t move real fast, our own selves. Don’t forget Papa’s clothes.” Turning to Dobey, she put her hands on her hips, and smiled. “You decide, no?”
“We decide. Yes. But you do things our way, until we split up. You don’t listen to us, do exactly what we say, and when, then we ride away so fast you’ll be amazed. Deal?”
“These dead men: we share their things?”
“Listen, Lady. We killed them. Their stuff is ours, by rights. How ‘bout this? We don’t charge you anything for helping you get to the river.” He flared a little. “Maybe we don’t charge you extra for slowing us down. Or maybe we don’t take half your stuff, for saving your daughter. Don’t mistake me, Lady, they’d have killed her when they were all through with her, and killed you and your boy when you rode up.”
Shocked at his sudden rage, it also occurred to her that this seemingly nice young man had just helped slaughter three dangerous men. She cowered a little as he now jabbed a finger at her and shouted, “They’d have taken every damn thing of yours they wanted, and then burned this whole place down, to cover it.”
He stopped suddenly, and she saw a smile replace the anger. “That’s it,” he said softly, looking out at the bodies behind the store.
“What’s what?” asked Jimmy, who came in to listen to the tirade. He loved it when his captain got mad.
“Yankees will be looking for four people here, dead or alive. You have some coal oil in here, Lady?”
She nodded, afraid again. She had thought he was over his anger. “Oui, there, in the corner.”
“Hurry and get what you want out of here. We’re gonna strip those men, drag ‘em in here and soak ‘em in coal oil, and burn this place down on ‘em.”
Like most successful merchants and smugglers, she was, mentally, quite agile. The light dawned for her even before Jimmy caught on.
“The Yankee’s they come, they find these men, burnt to a crisp, they think they have found poor Marie-Louise, Robert, an’ Honey—an’ then they see that new grave for old Pop and they keep looking for these bastards.”
Jimmy smiled. “You do good work, Cap’n.” He nodded toward the door. “Got a minute?”
Outside, Jimmy gave him a rundown on the booty. “The cap’n had another four hundred twenty Yankee dollars in his pants, and the private had over forty.” He shook his head, amazed, and split with Dobey. “Got you a Henry rifle, with two hundred plus rounds, two more new Spencers with eighty rounds each, two Army Remingtons, and the cap’n had another Navy Colt. And three damn sabers, which I will throw in that river. Tobacco, coffee, more matches, real socks, stuff like that. More jerky. Beans and bacon.”
Dobey listened and took it in, as he handled the Henry. “This is sweet. Sixteen shooter. Had one in ’64, but traded it in Atlanta when I couldn’t get cartridges. Thanks.”
The Henry held fifteen rounds in a tube under the barrel, and like the Spencer, was a lever-action. Unlike the Spencer, the action also cocked the weapon. Starting with a round in the chamber, it could be fired sixteen times without removing it from the shoulder. Like the Spencer, it fired a self-contained copper cartridge. Smaller bullet, but faster velocity, flatter trajectory, greater range. And plenty of ammo for it, Dobey thought, now that the damn war is over. Though I expect I’ll still have use for it. He quickly came back to Earth.
Bear and Honey pulled up, a coffin, clothing, food and household items in the wagon. “I got it dug,” Bear said. “Took a board, writ his name on it, and the date. Need some help, dropping his coffin in the hole.”
Once they finished, Bear asked, “That other coffin, Mama, what we put in him?”
“Make a scarecrow, cher. Use those Yankee’s clothes. Stuff him full of their things, belts, boots, blankets, like that, and then wrap him like a dead man in the big sheet. Put a board under him, hide some more things under that. Yankees stop us, we say we taking our dead Papa home to New Orleans. Nail him shut, when you through. Honey-Marie, help me load these store things.”
Dobey broke in. “Bear, let’s you and me and Jimmy see if any of those boots fits us first. And you strap on these two Remington pistols, and a cap pouch. We’ll each take one of these fresh Yankee mounts and trail ours behind the wagon. And we’re gonna unload most or all of that stuff on the pack horse, put that in the wagon too. Give him a rest.”
Bear, speechless about the guns and horse, looked to his mother, who nodded. Now Jimmy handed him a Spencer and a box with seven speed loading tubes of cartridges for it. “You and me will each take one of these, too. It don’t hurt these bullets to get wet. I’ll show you how it works, then we’ll put my Sharps and Cap’n Walls’ old Spencer in the wagon.”
“The shotguns?”
“Put yourn and your daddy’s in the wagon, hind of the seat. Women can get to ‘em there. I’ll wear mine.” He turned to the women. “Ma’am, you wear this Navy Colt. Just cut and notch the belt to your likings. You know how it works?”
***
Marie-Louise stared at him a full three seconds, then decided she didn’t have much choice about him telling her what to do. She pulled a canvas valise from the wagon seat, and opened it to show him her husband’s ’51 Navy. She also had a powder flask and small sack of loose balls for it, as well as caps.
“Good,” Jimmy said, with obvious approval. “Leave it there. Always nice to have a hidden spare. Wear this ‘un, though, so folks can see it. And you, girl, you keep this.” He handed Honey the sawed-off Smith and Wesson. “You can wear his holster, or put it in a coat pocket. Here’s your bullets. Watch while I reload it now.” He tilted back the barrel of the little pistol, and removed the cylinder.
Bear opened the false bottom of the wagon, which opened on each side between the wheels, and began hiding things. Jimmy and Dobey wound up with new boots, and Bear got Jimmy’s old ones, which were far better than his hobnail shoes. He also took a pair of Yankee pants. The extra shoes and boots and horse harness and pants went in, along with Jimmy’s Sharps and the extra Spencer and ammo. The spare saddles went up in the wagon, under the shelter halves. A silver service and several jugs of whiskey were wrapped in blankets and put underneath.
Marie-Louise said, “Put all the women’s clothes and the Yankee bedrolls under, too. Don’t close it yet. Honey, you come with me.” Taking some folded clothing, she and Honey went back in the store. “You men, you don’t come in now.”
***
During the next ten minutes, Bear levered in and out seven rounds with his new Spencer, and under Jimmy’s tutelage, reloaded the magazine. “Always cock first, then lever it. You do it the other way, and when the breech closes, the hammer being down will mash the firing pin slightly into the cartridge. See it there?” Bear nodded. “Often causes a misfire. Do it right, and when you close up, the cartridge pushes out that rebounding firing pin, sets it up to be struck by the hammer. Cap’n Walls taught me that.” Bear’s open-faced understanding and excitement were a delight to witness.
“Yessir.”
“For the same reason, if you de-cock it with a round in the chamber, just lower it to half-cock.”
“For to not push in the pin, no?”
“’Zactly right. Now here’s how the sling and ring works.”
***
The women came out wearing the old man’s pants, shirts, and jackets, and placed their own clothing, neatly folded, underneath. “You close him now, Bear. And you, M’sieur Jimmy, you can burn those men and my store.” Their hair was pinned up and tucked into felt hats, and the baggy clothes made their gender apparent only to a serious investigator. “Maybe less trouble this way, no?” She strapped on the dead captain’s Colt, and used his own knife to refit the belt.
The men dragged the dead Yankees inside, then Bear and Jimmy began soaking them and the store in coal oil. When Bear came out, Dobey asked, “That road y’all came from—what’s down there? Anything ‘tween us and the Mississippi?”
“Yessir. Little town maybe twenty-five miles, a few more farms. But we don’ go that way, not today.”
Marie-Louise heard and chimed in. “Non, mon Capitaine. We take the ferry, there behind the house. And once across our petite river, we take the ropes and mule with us, ferry she no good no more. We take the back road to the river, smuggler’s road, only eighteen mile to the landing. Yankees want to chase us, they got to go twenty-five miles for the next crossing.” She beamed, and so did Dobey.
“Then come fifteen mile north.” Bear added.
As the store erupted in flame and black oily smoke, the small army moved past the house and onto the ferry, a hundred yards behind it.
“How does this work?” asked Jimmy, as Marie-Louise and Honey drove the wagon onto the ferry.
“I put all you on, then me and that mule, we pull you across.” Bear pointed at a device on a tree. “They’s a pulley over there, like this one, so’s once you’re over, you can send the ferry back for me.”
Bear dismounted, and tied off his horse. “Once we across, we take loose these ropes, pull ‘em all to us. Mebbe we push her loose, no ropes, an’ she go on them rocks. You hear them rocks?”
Now straining, Jimmy and Dobey could just make out the sounds of rapids above the roaring and popping of the blazing store. “What is that, a quarter mile down?”
“More like the half mile, and ‘round the bend. Can’t see him from here.”
“But could cavalry cross at those rapids?” Dobey pressed him, as they started to load the horses.
“Nosir. They try, they will wash away.”
Jimmy broke in. “That’s all good, Cap’n, but do those Yankees have a tracker with ‘em, he’ll trail these Yankee horses right to this landing, and know where we’re heading.”
“Mebbe not,” spoke Bear. He explained that the ferry path, which Dobey and Jimmy had originally thought was a driveway to the main house, was a road which forked across the small river, going left to the Mississippi, and right to Corinth, though only if one knew what he was doing.
The whump of an explosion stopped all talk. Jimmy and Bear looked at each other, grinning.
“Gunpowder? You left gunpowder in the store?” Dobey was incredulous, and mad.
“Naw, Cap’n, you know me better’n that. It was some coal oil is all.”
“Coal oil?” Marie-Louise came running up, and heard the last. “Robert, why you don’t bring it, if you don’t put it on those men? Coal oil, we can sell. You know that. I taught you that.”
“Mama, I put a can in the wagon, I put a can on the men. That was just a piece of a can, most empty. And it was, uh . . .”
“Contaminated.” Jimmy finished for him.
“All right, then. I thou
ght you gone crazy. Mon Dieu, crazy like me—I forget the cow. How I do that? Honey-Marie, come—we got to get that cow.” She looked at Dobey. “We pull her behind the wagon, but what of my pigs?”
“No pigs. And we ain’t got time to butcher ‘em.”
Anne Marie frowned, but then she and Honey raced to the barn.
“Cap’n, I still think we need to do one more thing. I think the three of us ought to ride these Yankee horses right back by that store and up that road cross the meadow, like they was heading.” Jimmy pointed as he spoke.
“Go on,” Dobey was interested.
Jimmy turned to Bear. “Can’t we peel off somwhere’s over in them trees, pick up that creek, and follow it back here to the house?”
“Yessir. That’ll work good. Anybody tracking will think three men went the other way, up creek, to hide their tracks. No reason for ‘em to come back here.”
“Shouldn’t take us fifteen minutes, Cap’n. We’ll throw down their swords in them woods where they can be found. Make ‘em look like deserters, for sure.”
“Let’s do it.”
Before they rode off, Dobey told Marie-Louise what they were up to. “I don’t think Yankees are tracking these men yet, but if a patrol shows up, don’t surrender to’em. They’ll hang you anyways, since those bodies ain’t burned yet. Get behind the wagon, and fight ‘em. We’ll be back fast and drive ‘em off or kill ‘em.”
***
As the men left, Honey said, “They would do it, too, Mama.”
“I know, cher. I could maybe feel safe with these men, but they are killers. We must take care. Maybe they want us for our things.”
“Mama, for shame. They have save me.”
“Shush you-self, cher. Maybe they jus’ want us for our selves. We will use them to help us get away, but if they mess with you, I will kill them. If Robert don’t kill them first, I guarantee.”