Black Angels (22 page)

They were still standing in the street holding her when suddenly the ambulance wagon was upon them, bells clanging and horses charging ahead furiously. The men let her go to save themselves, and Iona saw her chance. Running for her life, she headed for the edge of town and home.

 

Luke knew it wouldn't be fair to stay long because the family had so little to eat. The children were all skinny arms and legs, and huge eyes that looked even bigger because they were so thin. They had mostly scraggly winter greens and little potatoes from the patch out back. How to join up with the Union army was now the main thing on his mind, and he was busy thinking about doing that. That would solve some of the food problems for them, and maybe he could sneak back and bring the rest of them food from the soldiers' supplies.

The family slept in two rooms—the four children in one bed, the mother and baby Vina in the other room. Mrs. Madison made a pallet on the floor for Luke, Caswell and Daylily in the big kitchen Zach Madison had built before he died. The house was the nicest one Luke had ever seen Black folks living in. He hated to leave the house, and it was hard to think about going without Caswell and Daylily. It had real floors, and a big black cookstove, and chairs for everybody to sit in at the table. What he didn't know about were the things Mrs. Madison had traded for food in the last month, precious things she had decided meant nothing next to her children's hunger.

Shortly after dark, Luke lay down with the rest of them, but tired as he was, he didn't sleep well. Union troops patrolled the streets. He had seen them yesterday on their way into town. Before first light, he had decided he would go, striking out once more on his own. No one who had known him two months ago when he left his aunt Eugenia as a frightened little boy would have recognized his walk or the look in his eyes. At almost twelve, he was lean and stripped down of the nonsense of boyhood. He would not see Daylily and Caswell again for ten years.

CHAPTER 32

PLAYING SCHOOL

Daylily would not be consoled. She was sure Luke had run off to fight, and, in her mind, to die. She cried for hours as soon as she was convinced that he was really gone. And she was silent for four days. The only time she spoke was to comfort Caswell, who was also in tears when he realized what had happened.

“Come on now, Caswell,” she said, her voice low and discouraged. “We can't cry. Luke wouldn't like that; you know he wouldn't.”

Iona watched them carefully, this little White boy who looked like an Indian, and Daylily, who seemed to be fiercely protective of him. She had only pieces of their story, and she wondered what had really happened to them. She did her best to make them both feel better, although two more children in a household of six was more than a notion. She didn't say what she thought, that it was a good thing Luke had run off. She'd never have been able to feed him. One thing though, Daylily seemed glad to have a girl close to her age to be friends with, even though Iona would still find her moping and staring at the road after many weeks had gone by. Gracey and Daylily took to each other with relief. Here was a sister to share the load of four younger children, and here was a sister big enough to share girl things with at the end of the day.

Daylily and Gracey had a lot to do while Iona was at work, weeding the garden, trying to appease the younger children, scrubbing the floors. The boys were always hungry, and so Gracey and Daylily were constantly thinking up games for them to play to keep their minds off their stomachs.

“I know,” said Daylily one afternoon, “let's play school.”

“How we gon play school?” asked Gracey. “We can't read.”

“Well, I can,” said Daylily. It still surprised her every time she realized that she could admit that without being afraid.

“You joshing me!” Gracey said. “Show me how!”

So Daylily gathered the younger children together to sit in two rows on the ground.

“What we gon write on?” asked Gracey.

“I know,” said Daylily, and she ran to the barn, where she had seen some leftover planks of wood. When she returned, she had a piece of flat board and a piece of charred wood in her hand.

The boys were fussing by the time she got back. Vina the baby was playing on the grass, but the girls were patiently waiting.

“You boys,” Daylily said. “Get over here and sit down. I'm the leader now.” Caswell and Zachary came first.

“Now,” said Daylily. “We gon start with ABC
.”

“What's that,” said Zach.

“
A
the first letter in the alphabet,” she answered. “Like if I said, ‘A piece of chicken.'
A
looks like this,” and she wrote the letter on the wooden board with her burnt stick.

That day they got through three letters,
A, B
and C
,
before the boys refused to sit still any longer, and Zach said, “Oh, shoot, I'm through. I don't care about no ABC.”

Matt agreed and school was over for that day.

The weeks went by, and once, returning home from her drudgery at the hospital, Iona walked in on a scene she found remarkable. Daylily was seated in front of all her children except Gracey, reading to them from the family Bible. Gracey was trying to scratch out letters on an old plank with a scrap of charcoal. There was also a child there who lived down the road on a neighboring farm. Because Iona had seen him before and knew who he was, she didn't really worry about his presence. That was, not until much later.

She had never imagined that Daylily, fresh from a plantation, could read and write! Iona was so delighted that she felt a little less tired, a little less in despair that day. And Daylily had found herself at last. From then on, she was one of the Madison family's own, forever.

CHAPTER 33

JAMES JR.

He took his coat and his canteen, that was all. It didn't take him long to get to the center of town. As he was coming close to some ruined buildings, Luke saw one group of Black people and then another. Then on a nearby hill he saw a crowd of Black people clustered around campfires. He decided he'd stop and ask somebody where he could find the soldiers' camp.

The first colored person he saw who seemed really friendly was a white-haired man sitting by the side of the road with what looked like might be his family grouped around him. They were all eating something that looked like bread. And they had a wagon with a mule harnessed to it. Behind them stood burnt-out pieces of buildings and chimneys. There were stones and scorched metal pieces in the road where Luke stood. “Hey, y'all,” said Luke. “What y'all doin here?”

“Hey yourself,” said the old man. “Who you?”

“I'm Luke,” he answered.

“Don't have no last name?”

“Guess it's Higsaw,” said Luke. He wasn't quite sure what the rules were about names now that he had run away from Massa Higsaw.

“Guess it is, then,” said the old man. “I be John Miller. We been following the federal lines. My son, James, he just gone looking for the soldiers to find work. This my grandson, James Jr.” He pointed to a big boy who looked to be about fifteen.

Luke said, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” said James Jr. He had on an old felt hat, and some overalls and a jacket. He was barefoot and he was really heavy and tall.

“Which way he go?” said Luke, excited now that he was so close to the troops.

“Yonder, up that hill,” the old man pointed. “See them colored folks? Go up there, and right over that next hill there'll be soldiers' camps. You want a piece of hardtack?”

“Thank y'all,” said Luke.

“We got that following behind soldiers. They be dropping things, leavin they old things behind.”

James looked at Luke. “You goin up there?” he said.

“Uh huh,” Luke said while trying to chew the stuff. It was the hardest thing he had ever tried to bite. “Goin to join up,” he said.

“Wait,” said James. “Let it go soft in your mouth first. Then chew it.”

James moved closer to Luke. “I wanna go, Grandpapa. Just wanna look. I ain't goin to join up.”

One of the women spoke up. “You don't need to go runnin off. You just get in trouble. Let this boy go on bout his business.” She had a toddling child who was pulling at her hand.

“Please, Mam, I's tired sittin here,” he said.

She looked at him, too weary to say no. “Gwan” was all she said, and waved him on with her hand.

Luke and James Jr. walked off toward the hill up ahead. Luke looked up at James Jr. “How old are you?” he asked.

“I be fourteen next year,” James said. “How bout you?”

“I be twelve soon. Don't know what month.”

A small company of soldiers went by, and the boys stood still and watched. As they started walking again, the conversation turned to guns, rifles and soldiers.

“Had me a rifle once,” Luke boasted.

“Naw, that ain't true, you ain't had no rifle.”

Luke protested, “Yeah, I did.”

“Where'd you get it then? You lying.”

Luke grinned. “Stole it from ole Massa.”

“Where is it then?” James said.

“Lost it when I was captured.”

“You better stop your lying. You ain't been captured!”

“Yeah I was,” said Luke, swaggering just a little.

James wasn't giving up. “Where then?”

“Back there where I come from. I was captured before the battle.”

“What battle? You ain't fought in no battle!”

“Yeah, I have. One where the captain got his face blowed off.”

“You need to stop lying,” said James. “God don't like no lying.”

Soon the town got busier and busier with the bustle of the military activity and wounded soldiers, distracting Luke and James from the question-and-answer game. They saw supply wagons filled with large bags of grain. Even a skinny cow wandered by.

James's eye was caught by a wagon with no driver. A mule was hitched to the wagon, but no one was watching it. It was filled with apples and other foodstuffs. “I sure could eat one of them apples,” James said to Luke.

“Not yours for the taking,” Luke said. He didn't want any trouble, not from the soldiers, not from the police.

James was determined. “You done took a rifle from a White man. How you gon tell me about stealing? Lookee, there's a hundred apples. So many you wouldn't miss just one! And I'm really hungry. We ain't had nothing but hardtack to eat all day!”

“This is different,” said Luke.

“How different?” said James.

“I don't know. Just is. Not yours, James Jr. Leave it alone,” Luke said, a warning in his voice.

But by the time Luke had finished the word
alone,
James Jr. was across the road and had reached into the covered wagon. Luke cut out running fast and hid behind the corner of one of the few buildings left standing on the battle-scarred street. He dared a quick look from around the corner of the building. Suddenly he heard a man's voice cry out, “Halt!”

The man was a ways away, but he was pointing his gun at James. When the big boy looked up, his right hand was in the apples and his left hand was reaching for another one to stuff into his bib overalls. When the shot rang out, the look on James's face was not fear, but surprise, and then he crumpled to the ground. His body shook a little and was still.

CHAPTER 34

A DEATH IN THE FAMILY

They shot him! Luke thought, for taking some apples! He was just hungry and they shot him! It wasn't fair. It wasn't right! Luke's whole body was shaking. He tried to focus on the eagle Betty had said was in his spirit. The eagle is with me, he thought, the eagle is always with me. He was afraid to show himself, and he heard running in the street. He didn't know what to do. Then he heard a voice say, “Come get this dead nigger! Dadblasted contraband nigger! Get this baggage out of the street!” A pig on the loose squealed and ran down the street.

Luke leaned against the wall where he was hiding. He was so scared, his teeth were chattering. He had been with James. What if they took him to jail? Or shot him too? He bent over with one hand on each of his elbows. He could feel the tears on his face, but he was mad, not sad. Angry that someone could get shot dead for being hungry, and taking some apples. Angry that James had been following him and now he was dead. He stepped out from behind the corner just in time to see them drag James's body away like a sack of potatoes.

Luke felt like it was his fault. If he hadn't been trying to get to the campground, James would still be alive. Maybe there was nothing special about him after all, Luke thought, and nothing special about the eagle spirit either. Maybe Betty was wrong, and the eagle was just a dumb bird. It didn't help him save James Jr. Luke swiped at his tears with his coat sleeve.

He swore to God that one day he would pay James Jr. back. He was gonna fight for the Union to help end the war, and when he grew up, he was gonna do something to help colored people, so they could be treated better, so they wouldn't be so hungry they had to steal apples. He didn't know how to help yet, but he would find a way.

 

Luke sat there next to that wall until the sun was low in the sky. He was trying to decide if he should go back and find the Millers. What if they blamed him for James's death? Luke felt more alone than he ever had. He wanted Betty to tell him what to do, but she was far away. This was hard. It was worse than taking a whole bottle of Aunt Eugenia's spring tonic. He didn't want to go back, but there was no help for it. The Millers would be waiting for James Jr. to return.