East of Orleans (31 page)

Tears formed in Isabella’s eyes. Jules had never spoken to her like this before. She did not know this man, maybe this was the man who kept the whore, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t care less if he had a thousand whores.

The tall case empire clock struck nine. Jules walked over and looked out a window.

“I give them a house, pay them fair wages; those sharecroppers are more trouble than they’re worth.”

“You want me to go over there?” asked Hoyt with an eager voice.

Isabella looked down and saw the top of a knife in Hoyt’s boot. She looked up and Hoyt’s eyes caught hers. He eyed Isabella up and down and then smirked. Isabella turned away.

“I wasn’t gonna tell you this tonight, boss, but I might as well mention it.”

“Tell me what?”

“There’s been rumors for a couple of days now that the niggers are gonna take off with some of the crops, sell them, keep the money and then leave.”

Jules thoughts seemed preoccupied as he stood; hands jammed into his pockets, and looked out the window. He turned and said, “They won’t get far. Where in the hell do they think they’re going? Do you know who they are selling to?”

“Probably goddamned Yankees across the river.” Hoyt spat out the words.

“Who’s heading them up?” asked Jules.

“I hear that young buck, of Big Moses.”

Jules shook his head in despair. “Hell, I hate to hear that. Moses is a good nigger and I always liked the boy.”

“You want me to take care of him?” asked Hoyt.

“No, not now. I’ll ride over to Beaufort tomorrow. I’ll talk to Moses and the boy myself.”

“I can’t hold them off forever, boss. Them niggers will steal you blind if you let them,” said Hoyt with urgency.

“I said, I’ll handle this, Hoyt. I mean it, now leave Moses and his boy to me. You hear?”

“But, I just thought we needed to teach that nigger a lesson. He’s a smart-ass nigger, anyway. I’m telling you, boss, you’d better let me get rid of him.”

“Hoyt, what in the goddamn hell did I just say? Do I have to say it again? Besides, I blame the goddamn Yankees more than I do the Negroes.”

“You want me and the boys to do what we can to keep the Yankees out from over there?”

“Hoyt, I don’t need you and a bunch of damn trigger happy fools out there causing me more trouble. There ain’t no point in making this thing any worse than it is. Hell, the war’s over. I don’t like Yankees any better than you, but we can’t just start shooting the hell out of them for no good reason.”

“You call stealing our crops not a good reason?”

“Hell, Hoyt, I done worse and I know you have. You can’t start killing niggers without a trial. The Yankees get wind of it and they’ll run to the newspapers and you might just find
yourself
swinging from an oak.” Jules sat down and took off his shoes. He walked into his bedroom and came back wearing a pair of worn dusty boots. “Hell, come on, I’ll go over there with you tonight. If I catch them damn Yankees messing with my niggers, it ain’t gonna be good.”

Isabella heard the back door slam. She ran to the parlor window, looked out, and saw Jules and Hoyt ride off into the night. Isabella did not doubt that Hoyt would kill for money. Hoyt would kill for the pleasure of it; she could see it in his eyes. But the thought of her husband killing Negroes or even Yankees; which she despised more than snakes, made a fear grow in her heart.

Isabella did not sleep a wink that night. She had to find out what Jules did to the sharecroppers, and as for the Yankees, well, she supposed that she could worry about them later. Yankees were a mean and ruthless bunch. She knew Yankees were not to be trusted, but even so, she still did not want to see them dead. In order to ease her conscience, Isabella made up her mind that she would go to Beaufort herself and find out what had happened. If she had to guess, she figured that Hoyt had, most likely, made the whole mess up. Therefore, it was decided, she would worry about the sharecroppers now and the Yankees later, much later.

Isabella rose quickly when Jules rode into the yard. It had been two days since he and Hoyt had gone over to Beaufort. Isabella walked out onto the front porch. Jules got off his horse and walked past her.

“I heard rumors that your sharecroppers were sick with the fever,” Isabella said.

“Is this what I have to come home to? If so, maybe I’d better get back on my horse and go on over to the warehouse. You’re like a clucking hen, you never hush. Why can’t you just be a wife and leave everything else alone?”

Isabella went into the house and sulked in silence. Jules took a bath and then went into the bedroom to rest. Isabella followed him in there.

“Jules.”

“What now?”

“What happened over in Beaufort?”

“Isabella, I want to get some sleep. Do you not listen to a goddamn thing I say?” His voice softened, “Of course, if you want to make yourself useful you can stay; a while anyway.”

He’s an awful man, thought Isabella. She had rather die than lay down in that bed next to him. In fact, she wished that the Yankees had captured him during the war and never turned him loose.

Isabella walked out and slammed the door.

It was early evening when Isabella smelled the sweet smell of Jules’s cigar and knew that he was awake. She saw his shadow enter the kitchen and then heard him laugh with Priscilla. Isabella walked to the kitchen door and eyed her husband. He had bought her in marriage, never professed to love her, or any woman for that matter and now, had hired an experienced Negro girl to cook for him for no other reason than to make her feel like a fool.

She
was
a fool. She could not deny that, but she had saved her mama and granny’s farm, so, maybe she was a little less of a fool than she thought. Still, it sickened her to realize that her husband was a crook and a whoremonger. Suddenly, the thought occurred to Isabella that maybe she, too, could be sent to the place for women with unsound minds. Isabella knew that she had sold herself, just like a prostitute. If people knew… but right now she would not worry about what people thought or knew. She didn’t have time for that, not now anyway. She was Isabella McCoy, and there wasn’t no man, or anyone else for that matter, who would destroy her will. She would stay until she found a good reason to leave. And that reason, she was sure, was the woman on Oglethorpe. Isabella knew she had to find her and soon, very soon. She would approach her on amicable terms and tell her that she was not angry with her for being with her husband. In fact, she would tell her that she wanted them to be together hoping that Jacqueline would pour her heart out to her telling her all about Jules indiscretions. Surely, this information alone would be enough to get a divorce even if Jules was not willing.

That night Isabella thought about Priscilla and her being from Norcross. Isabella wondered if Priscilla knew anyone from Shakerag. Elora had been put to bed and Isabella had wrapped herself in a blanket, pulling it tight around her neck. She had felt sick that afternoon and thought perhaps she had a cold. Her thoughts went to Tom and she tried to think about something else. Jesse had gone down to the warehouse to help Hoyt take inventory and there was no one for her to talk to. No one, except Priscilla, but what could she possibly have to say of any interest? Not a thing, Isabella thought.

Priscilla blew out the gas lamp in the kitchen and went to speak to Isabella before she headed for her room. She knocked on Isabella’s bedroom door and then entered. She leaned her head inside and then straightened her spine. With narrowed eyes she said,

“What’s the matter, Miz Isabella, you not feeling well? You chilled?”

For a moment, Isabella thought of asking Priscilla to leave, but she glanced at her and sat back in the bed. Isabella’s face flushed red.

“You poor thing,” Priscilla said with genuine concern. “Mister Jules ought to be ashamed of himself for going off and leaving you here by yourself so much. Course a man’s got to work. Can’t spend all his time fussing over his woman. If he do, then we would all starve.”

“Starve!” Isabella sat up with indignation. “I’d rather starve than have him here all the time.”

Priscilla’s eyes widened. She saw Isabella was about to cry, and went over and placed her arms around her mistress. “Don’t cry; I know it must be hard on you. Having to deal with a man like Mister Jules ain’t no easy thing. You must get busy, no need in you making yourself sick bout things you can’t do nothing bout. You know Mister Jules, he too old to change his ways. Course, it ain’t ne’r too late to change. I know I’se shure nuff did. I’se a Christian woman now; I got myself baptized last Sunday.” Priscilla beamed proudly.

Isabella glanced at Priscilla and thought how silly she looked standing there grinning like a possum. “What would you know about how I feel? Never mind, just forget what I said.”

Priscilla shrugged her shoulders and started out the door. “I know how it feel to be somewhere and not know where I’se going. First, I’se with Miz Mae, den Miz Jacqueline, over on Oglethorpe and now, here I is with you.”

Isabella’s heart stopped, her eyes danced wickedly. She jumped up from the bed and her feet slid across the waxed wooden floor.

“You know the woman on Oglethorpe?” Asked Isabella, grabbing hold of Priscilla.

“I know dat bad woman,” said Priscilla with a sidelong glance.

“Priscilla, sit down, you must be tired, you’ve cooked and cleaned all day. How do you know her?”

“Miz Isabella, I done said too much. If Mister Jules find out, he’s gonna toss me right out dat door. And I ain’t got nowhere to go back to, do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand, Priscilla, believe me, I understand.” Their eyes met and Isabella took Priscilla’s hand into hers. “Go on; I swear on the life of Tom Slaughter that this will be just between you and me. Here, sit down in this chair. I’m gonna fix you a cup of hot milk.”

“Can you put some chocolate in it?” asked Priscilla.

Isabella dashed to the kitchen and warmed some milk with chocolate. Just as she was heading back to Priscilla, Jesse came in the back door. Isabella had to get rid of him. She turned her face into a smile.

“Where you going with that cup of hot chocolate?” Jesse asked. “You look like you about to serve it to
Sherman
and it’s got poison in it.”

“Why would you say a thing like that? Ain’t you got chores to do?”

“No,” Jesse said, looking down on her pink cheeks with a suspicious eye.

Isabella squeezed his arm. “Me and Priscilla are talking girl talk, just us two, and I don’t want you in there.” Isabella knew she had to make Jesse leave and be careful not to raise his suspicions. She knew, however, that Jesse was no fool, especially when it came to her.

“What is dis all about? What you up to?”

“Do I have to be up to one darn thing? Can’t I just do a few things I want to without everybody poking their nose in my business?”

“You might as well tell me what you up to ‘cause if you don’t, I’se might just stand here all night. You up to something and it ain’t good.”

“All right!” Isabella swung around with fiery eyes. “You got to promise you won’t breathe a word.”

“I promise. Now what’s got you in such a ruckus?”

Anxious to get back to Priscilla, Isabella said, “That cook knows the woman on Oglethorpe. She even knows her name; it’s Jacqueline.”

“You want to go and mess up your marriage with Mister Jules?”

“Mess up my marriage? You know I did not marry for love and he sure didn’t either.”

“Don’t you care a thing about him?”

“No! I wish the Yankees had hung him, that’s what I wish. Now, I’m gonna take Priscilla this hot chocolate before it gets cold and you stay out of there, you hear?”

“You gonna get yourself in a mess, bigger than the one you already in.”

“That ain’t for you to worry about. I’m working on getting myself out of this mess and us back to Shakerag. And as for any other mess that might happen, well, I’ll figure that out later. And besides, it ain’t a thing in the world but meanness that Jules McGinnis keeps me here. I’ve paid my debt to him and I want to go home.”

“Den just pack your things and go.”

“You don’t understand a thing. I’ve got to have a reason to leave. And that reason is over on Oglethorpe. I can’t just go tearing out of here like Kate said the Yankees did with her china and silver.” Isabella was silent for a moment. “I suppose you think my good name ain’t worth a thing? My name has already been damaged enough. I was ruined when Jules married me. And now if I just up and take off my name will never be worth nothing, not ever again and it meant everything to my daddy.” A pang went through her.