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Authors: Karen English

Francie (12 page)

BOOK: Francie
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“I'll make another,” she said, but it was an empty promise. It had taken us long enough to save for the ingredients for the one she'd just thrown out.
“Maybe they got away and are hiding in the woods,” Auntie said.
Mama shook her head solemnly. “They wouldn't be in no woods at night. They're both scared of their own shadows.”
Auntie started to stand then, just to do something, but
Mama gently pulled her back down. “Please don't get yourself worked up …”
Auntie rocked and cried softly. “What are we going to do?” she said over and over.
“We just gonna wait.”
But our wait was disturbed by snarls and the stubborn yelps of Mr. Early's excited hounds. Voices shouted back and forth for the next hour.
That hour passed slowly and painfully. Several times I wanted to put my head down on the table. I didn't dare. I was scared I'd fall asleep. Mama paced. Auntie wept with fear. From time to time, we joined hands and prayed.
I must have slept at some point. The next thing I knew, there was the sound of tires driving slowly around the side of our house. Mama and Auntie were at the window just as I was lifting my head from the table.
“What on earth …” Mama was saying.
“What on earth …” Auntie repeated. I squeezed in between them and looked out.
A shadowy figure sat behind the steering wheel of a long black car parked in our backyard. Something about it seemed odd. I squinted at the car window. Who
was
that? The door opened and Clarissa Montgomery got out and started for the door. Before she could knock, Mama had opened it and stood waiting, dumbfounded.
“Clarissa,” I said.
“I've got your brother and cousin in my uncle's car,” she said simply.
Mama rushed past her to the car. I stood there, peering into the night.
“Where are they?” I asked.
“In the back, on the floor. When I saw the men and heard the dogs, I cut my lights and told them to get down.” Clarissa looked over her shoulder.
Mama yanked open the door and pulled out of the back seat, first Prez, then Perry. Frightened and huddled, they stumbled up the steps. Auntie grabbed Perry and drew him to her.
“Mama, I'm okay,” he said, slipping out of her grasp.
She grabbed him and hauled him into the house. Prez, between Mama and Perry, followed meekly. Mama settled them both at the table, then just stared down at them for seconds. She and Auntie took in their bedraggled condition. Perry's shirt was torn, with only a scrap of sleeve hanging from the shoulder. His bare arm was wrapped in a dish towel. Blood showed through.
“My God …” Auntie cried, gently touching his arm. “What happened to you?” Perry began to cry, his attention back on his sorry state.
Prez was almost as bad. His hair was matted with leaves and his clothes were caked with dirt. He started sobbing, as if in sympathy.
Finally, between hiccups, Perry managed to get out, “I cut it trying to get away from one of them Bascomb brothers.”
“What happened?” Mama asked.
“They was trying to haul us off to jail.”
I looked over at Clarissa, who was surveying our front room. The sink pump, the kerosene lamp, Mama's Diller's Drugs calendar … She sat down without being asked and listened to Prez's story as if she'd never heard it before. Auntie interrupted him. “Girl, how'd you drive your uncle's car out here?”
“Prez told me a back way,” Clarissa said.
“No. I mean, your uncle let you drive his car?” Auntie asked.
“I waited until I knew he was asleep. Then I rolled it down the driveway.” Mama and Auntie studied her. “I saw the boys in the gazebo earlier in the evening, trying to hide, but I had to wait until everyone was asleep before I could go down and see what was going on.”
She stopped and let that sink in.
“What were you doing in the Montgomerys' backyard?” Mama asked Prez. Prez always got tongue-tied when frightened.
“We were hiding there.”
“Prez—don't try my patience. I know you were hiding there. Why? How?”
“We were just trying to get the jars after the sheriff came out, so nobody'd get in trouble,” Prez cried. “Those Bascomb boys were gonna take us to jail!”
I cut him off to try and salvage my good name. “And I told you to just do your work. You know I did.”
He only glanced at me. He was more interested in getting his side over to Mama.
“We decided to hide them instead. We hid them good, too,” he said to me in particular. “We dug a hole …”
“But they run across us,” Perry added, “and they said we looked suspicious and stuff. Then they grabbed us. ‘Cept I got away for a minute, but I fell and hurt my arm. I scraped it real bad—else Jack Bascomb wouldn'ta caught me.” He looked over at Prez. “Billy Bascomb already caught Prez.” He took a breath.
“Only cause I fell, too,” Prez said.
Auntie, standing behind Perry, had been rubbing his shoulders. Now she leaned down and looked at him closely.
“They threw us in their car, Mama. They said they were taking us to jail for”—he hesitated—“aidin' and abettin' a fugitive.”
“They said all that, huh.” Mama was getting angry.
“We got away when they stopped at the filling station.”
“I think they let us get away,” Perry cut in.
“Did not!” Prez insisted.
“I saw 'em laughing at us when we ran.”
“Then whyn't you just walk on back, then? Tell me that!” Prez demanded.
“Don't start arguing among yourselves now,” Auntie said on her way out of the room to see about Janie, who'd awakened for her midnight feeding.
“We was over on Cypress and Prez said they was gonna come after us and put us in jail for sure.”
“I didn't say no such thing.”
“Tell the truth and shame the devil,” Perry said.
“You was the one who was runnin'.” Prez turned to Mama. “He was the one who started runnin' in those white folks' backyards—hidin' out and such.”
“Wasn't—”
“Shut up, both of you,” Mama said quietly. She sighed and got up, went into the other room, and came back with the brown bottle of peroxide and some strips of muslin. “Let me see that,” she said to Perry.
He drew back.
Clarissa, who'd been sitting with her chin in her hand for some time, perked up.
“Naw, Auntie. It's gonna hurt.”
“Boy, if you don't give me that arm—you are gonna be hurt for sure.”
Perry submitted. He scrunched his face and squeezed his eyes shut in preparation for pain.
“Ow, ow, ow …”
“Shut up now, you big baby—you know I ain't hurtin' you.” Quickly Mama washed the wound and wrapped it in clean muslin. She bit the end of the strip and ripped it down the middle. She tied the bandage closed.
Perry seemed to slump then. “I'm tired, Mama.”
Mama turned to Clarissa. “I want to thank you for bringing our boys back to us. But you go on home. Your people've probably discovered you gone by now and are worried sick.”
Clarissa got up slowly and, it seemed, reluctantly. She
moved to the door. Mama reached past her and opened it for her. “Be careful, now. I sure thank you,” she said again.
Clarissa gave her a little nod and slipped out.
 
“They're packin' up,” Mama said. She'd not left her post by the window since Clarissa left. Sure enough, we could hear the motors being revved up. I joined her and looked out. A train of headlights was snaking up the road, heading our way. A pickup filled with loud, whooping men gunned past. Something cracked against the side of the house and we heard it shatter. An empty beer bottle, I was sure. Mama and I ducked down and waited until the sound of every car and truck had died away.
Auntie had snuck home with Perry and Janie, and Prez lay sound asleep in his bed when Mama said, “Bet they didn't get him.”
“How do you know?”
“I got a feelin'.”
When the night settled into its quiet, we crawled into bed and fell immediately to sleep.
I let Prez sleep through the morning while I worked on some pillow slips Mama was having me do for Auntie. I peeked in on him just to make sure he was still there. Before Mama had left for an emergency situation at the Montgomerys'—they were having unexpected overnight guests—she had told me not to let Prez out of my sight. I was excused from helping her.
A storm seemed promised for late morning. I had swept the yard and then sat on the porch, finishing the slips Mama had made me rip out and start over. “Your stitches are long and lazy. You know better than to get in a hurry,” she said. I sat on the porch and watched rain clouds gathering.
I thought about Juniper. We hadn't seen him in days,
but I wasn't worried. He often went on excursions in the woods, only to emerge days later, hungry and full of ticks. I was really going to miss him when we moved, however. We couldn't take him with us, so Perry'd be getting him.
As if he'd read my mind, I spied Juniper running along the edge of the woods and disappearing back into it. I sewed a line of tiny stitches, then stopped to admire my handiwork. Mama was not going to make me rip these out, I thought. When I checked to see if I could glimpse Juniper again, I saw a man walking slowly across the field toward our house. Not Juniper.
It was Jesse, moving as if his legs weighed a ton, but not caring that he was crossing the open field in broad daylight. Reminding me of the first time I laid eyes on him last spring at school.
He walked right to the steps and stared at me without a word. I stood up and held the door open for him and he went inside. I took a good look at him then. His hair was caked with leaves and twigs and clumps of mud. His shirt was in tatters and he'd either lost his shoes or didn't have any on when he first went into hiding.
“I thought you were gone for good. How'd you hide from them dogs?”
“I ran along the creek for a good mile or two and came out when I thought I'd gone on long enough. Then I hid out till this morning.”
“Why'd you try to beat up a white man?” I asked.
He sunk down into our kitchen chair.
“Can I have some water?” he asked. “And a little somethin' to eat?”
I got him the water and some of the corn bread left over from the day before. He pushed the corn bread into his mouth with filthy hands. Then, while his mouth was still full, he began to gulp down the water, his eyes nearly closed. I watched the rising and falling of his Adam's apple. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I'd like some more—if you don't mind.”
I brought him another glass.
“Got any shoes I can have?”
I looked down at his muddy feet. “My daddy has some old shoes about your size.” I went into the other room. “He's a Pullman porter now,” I called out as I dug around in the bottom of the wardrobe. “They gave him a full uniform and new shoes. He wouldn't wear these now.” I returned to the front room and set them down by his feet. He slipped his dirty feet easily into them and tied them up. I felt full of accomplishment, looking at his feet in my daddy's shoes.
“Did you do that fool thing that they said you did?” I asked, taking my seat across from him.
“I didn't go after nobody.” His eyes were filled with anger. “I ain't crazy.”
“Bellamy going around saying you did.”
“Cause he lied on me.” Jesse drank from his glass. “To save face.”
I waited.
“The man ain't never paid me honestly. He was shortchanging me. Laughing at me behind my back. I suspected as much, but I didn't know it until I heard one of the white workers laughing about how stupid I was. That I couldn't cipher. When I asked Bellamy about it, real polite like, he got mad and called me uppity. Told me there was plenty men who'd be glad to get my job.”
Without warning, tears welled up in Jesse's eyes. He wiped them away. “I didn't say nothin' more about it—just did my job. But he fired me.”
Silence settled between us while I tried to understand this different version. “I just took what was mine. One night I snuck in the Early henhouse to get a chicken. I figured that was what he owed me—at least. Bellamy come in before I could get away. I only run past him, s'all. And he fell. I got away. He must have decided he was gonna get me back. I heard what he sayin'—I assaulted him. But I didn't touch that man.”
He stared at his hands. “I got me a plan,” he said. “It's just gonna take me a few days to put it into motion, but …”
The sound of a car pulling up in front of the house interrupted him. It seemed to come out of nowhere. Jesse put a hand on my arm. I moved away and went quickly to the window in time to see the sheriff, alone, getting out of his car.
I was outside before he got to the steps to the front door. He'd parked in my freshly swept yard. Leisurely, and
with deliberate slowness, I thought, he came over to stand at the bottom step. He flicked a cigarette butt in Mama's flower bed.
“Where's your brother?”
“Prez's asleep, sir.”
“Go get him.”
I backed into the house and did what I was told. The kitchen was deserted; Jesse had disappeared. I couldn't even imagine where. Mama had all her boxes of quilting scraps under Prez's bed. The pantry was too small. The bed me and Mama slept in stood so high nothing could be hidden under there. I dared not try to find him.
“Get up, Prez,” I said, shaking him. “The sheriff wants you.”
He sat up at once and started whimpering. “Why's he want me?”
“He didn't tell me.” I looked around the room. “Hurry up.”
Prez threw on his clothes and wiped the sleep out of his eyes. We hurried down our small hallway and came upon the sheriff standing in our kitchen. I stopped short. I looked around. Prez slipped his hands in the back pockets of his overalls and cast his eyes to the floor.
The sheriff stared down at him. “What were you doin' in the woods yesterday?”
“We was just going after kindling for my auntie, Sheriff,” Prez said in a muffled voice.
“Speak up when I talk to you,” the sheriff bellowed.
Prez looked up with fear, but he did not look in the man's eyes. “That's the only reason we was there, sir.”
“Jack Bascomb said he caught you in the woods up to something.”
“No, sir.”
“You callin' him a lie?”
“No, sir,” Prez said quickly. “I'm just saying we was only going after kindling.”
“By the creek.”
“We got to playing, sir.” Prez's voice caught, and I knew he was struggling to hold back the tears.
“You weren't in them woods to help that boy we're after?”
“No, sir! I don't know nothin' about no boy.” He broke down over his lie then. The sheriff looked down on him like he was disgusted and yet found Prez funny at the same time. He glanced over at me. “I need me some water.”
Quickly, I moved to the pump and filled the glass Jesse had used and handed it to him. He downed the water and handed the glass back. He looked at me with a puzzled expression, as if it had just occurred to him to wonder about my part in this.
Suddenly my eye caught Daddy's boots, through the open door down the hall, in the dark space between the hem of the wardrobe curtain and the floor. My heart thumped in my chest. I turned toward the window, thinking my expression would surely give me away.
And if that didn't, my pounding heart. I felt my face flush hot.
“What's wrong?” the sheriff asked.
“I just remembered I ain't seen my dog for a while and I was hoping he didn't get torn up by one of those hounds last night.”
The sheriff angled his head back and looked at me for a long time. Finally, he moved to the door. “I better not learn you two been up to something. You'll be sorry if I do.” He shook his finger at us. A thick slab of a finger. “Don't let me find out you was lyin'.”
As soon as he was gone, I brought my finger to my mouth and pointed down the hallway. Prez followed my pointing finger and his eyes grew big. He ran to the window and watched until the sheriff's car pulled away. “He's going down to Auntie's to talk to Perry.”
Jesse stepped out of the wardrobe and wiped his sweating face. “I'ma go.”
Prez's mouth dropped open. “We gonna get in trouble, Francie!” he cried.
“No, we ain't,” I said. I turned to Jesse. “Where you going?”
He drew up, like he was trying to fill himself with confidence. “I'm gettin' down to New Orleans. I can catch a freight out to California from there.”
For a second I envied him and wished I could hop a freight to California myself. Where the sun always shined
and oranges grew on trees and the ocean was in your backyard. “Where you going to be until then?”
“Where I been.”
“It ain't safe.”
I took his hand and led him to the window. I pointed over to Miss Mabel's house. “You see that house down there? The woman who lives there saw you in the woods, and I know she told the sheriff and his deputy. I know it.”
“She ain't gonna see me.”
“Yes, she will. Because she's in the woods all the time, going after her plants. She'll know you're there. And if she thinks she can get something out of it, she'll tell.”
He seemed to think about this.
“You can hide out in our shed.”
“Uh-uh, Francie,” Prez said. “We'll get in trouble.”
I ignored him and just waited for Jesse's response.
“Okay,” he said. He had no choice.
“The sheriff's gonna find out and he's gonna arrest us!” Prez whined.
“Be quiet, Prez. You don't know what you're talking about.” I was moving around the room, gathering up what I thought he'd need. A blanket, some biscuits, a quart jar of water. I screwed the lid on tight and put everything in his arms. I got my own pillow off my bed and put it on top. Then I remembered the book Clarissa had given me for Jesse. I ran and got it.
“Here, take this, too. It's
Aesop's Fables
. The shed is out back. You can go get some sleep.” We all looked out the
window to see where the sheriff's car was. There was no sign of it. I opened the door and Jesse went through it, crossed my yard, and disappeared into the shed.
Then I watched that shed. While I rolled dough for biscuits and made hominy and gravy, I kept my eyes on it as much as possible. When Prez started for the door, I checked him. “Where you going?”
“Down to Perry's,” he said, all innocent.
“No, you aren't. Mama told me you had to stay home.”
“Down to Perry's is practically stayin' home.”
“You just want to tell him about Jesse.”
He didn't say anything and I knew I was right. He went out the front door and stood on the porch.
“Don't you leave the yard,” I said.
 
Just like I thought, a storm hit by early evening. Before I could worry about Mama getting soaked on her walk home, I heard a car approaching. The same car from last night. Dr. Montgomery had driven Mama home. Now she jumped out of the car and ran for the porch, calling her thanks over her shoulder.
She came in shaking her hat and wiping her wet face. “Hi, Mama,” I said and began to set the table. Prez came out from the back room. “Hi, Mama,” he said sheepishly.
“Boy, don't you know I could hardly work today, thinkin' about last night?” She sat down heavily at the table and I brought her her dinner. Prez went to the window
and looked toward the shed. Then he looked pointedly at me. Mama felt our tension.
“What's with you two?”
“Nothing,” I said, and shot Prez a warning look.
“Get your rest tonight, Francie. We got Miss Rivers' house in the morning.”
Mentally, I sighed. I'd left Jesse alone all day, thinking he was exhausted from the night before. But I'd sure planned to sneak him some dinner before Mama got back from the Montgomerys'. Because of the storm, she'd gotten back sooner than expected. Now she was going to make sure I got into bed early.
 
“Prez,” I said, pulling him aside as soon as I could, “when Mama and I leave in the morning, you take Jesse something to eat.”
He stared at me stupidly. “Don't forget,” I said.
 
“Get your clothes on, Francie. And hurry.”
I sulked all the way there. When we had stepped out into the yard, I snuck a quick peek at the shed. Oddly, I felt no sense of Jesse. It was almost as if he wasn't there.
BOOK: Francie
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