Summer of Pearls (11 page)

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Authors: Mike Blakely

BOOK: Summer of Pearls
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The pearl-hunters at Goose Prairie picked up a whole new vocabulary from Trevor Brigginshaw and Billy Treat. It was funny to hear the farmers, who usually sat around talking about bugs and the weather, saying things like “It had good overtone, but the luster was too low” when they talked about certain pearls.
After a couple of weeks, everybody in town knew the difference between a haystack and a turtleback. We could judge size, shape, and
orient as well as any jeweler. Even Adam Owens could look at a pearl and tell you whether it was a wing pearl, a dogtooth pearl, a nugget, a ring-around, or a bird's-eye.
Camps of merry pearl-hunters sprang up all over the lake, and everybody made money. We owed it all to the stranger, Billy Treat. It was peculiar how the town idolized him, yet knew so little about him. He didn't hunt for pearls himself. He just continued to cook at Widow Humphry's place and wander over to Goose Prairie in the afternoons to see what was going on. He taught some hunters the finer points of judging pearls, so Brigginshaw wouldn't take them too badly, but other than that, he mostly stayed out of the pearl business.
He almost always seemed to be sulking over something, like there was a sadness in him he couldn't shake. At times, however, Billy would get to talking real poetic about pearls, and his mood would brighten. I heard him more than once quote a line from Shakespeare's
Othello:
“Speak of me as I am … of one whose hand, like the base Indian, threw a pearl away richer than all his tribe … .”
One day I came down from the catfish-holding tank and found Billy standing under Esau's mulberry tree with a crowd around him. “The Chinese,” he was saying as I got close enough to hear, “believed in magical pearls that glowed and could be seen a thousand yards away. They believed the light of such a pearl would cook rice.”
On another day, I was toting a water keg up to Esau's place and heard Billy telling how all the different ancient civilizations explained the formation of pearls. Angel tears, and things like that. “Some reasoned that a white pearl was formed during fair weather, and a dark pearl was formed during cloudy weather.”
“What about our pink pearls?” someone asked. Caddo Lake produced quite a few pink ones.
“Maybe dawn or dusk, if you believe in that sort of thing,” Billy answered.
He loved pearl legends and folklore, and I loved to hear him talk about them. It added an air of ancient romance to the muddy pursuits of us lake rats.
It was a wonderful summer. I will never forget it. I felt rich and
free. It was a time like no other in my life. A time when I knew both the sterling excellence of innocence and the bewitching siren of temptation.
Pearls were my temptation. Mussel pearls and Pearl Cobb. I dreamed of finding the paragon of angels' tears. I dreamed of giving it to Carol Anne. It was the fabulous summer of pearls. I guess I thought it would last forever.
“NO, THANKS,” BILLY SAID, HIS BACK TO THE AUSTRALIAN AS HE FINISHED
drying the pots and pans.
Trevor Brigginshaw held his satchel in his hand. “Come on, Billy,” he urged. “Just a drop. It won't hurt you. 11
“You know I don't drink,” Billy said as he hung a heavy iron skillet over the stove. He turned to face his friend. “It's a waste of time and money.”
“I'll give you the money.”
“Who will give me the time?”
“For God's sake, mate, don't be such a stick-in-the-mud. You don't have to drink if you don't want to. Just come along for the fun!”
Billy took off his apron and hung it on a brass hook. “I like you when you're sober, Trev, but you're a mean drunk. There are happy drunks and sad, slobbering drunks and mean drunks, and you're the meanest of the mean if something rubs you wrong.”
“So that's it? That time in Valparaiso?”
“And La Paz, and San Francisco, and Lahaina.”
“Lahaina? Oh, now, that was different. The bloke kicked my dog, Billy. I was provoked.”
“The
dog
bit the
bloke
first, and it wasn't even your dog.”
“Well, I couldn't help that. I like dogs, I do. I've got a mind to get another one.”
“What do you mean, ‘another one'? You've never had a dog.”
“I would have kept that one in Lahaina if you had bailed me out of the stinkin' brig before dawn!”
“And watch you tear another saloon apart? The brig's the best place for you when you're drunk, Trev. No, you go on to Esau's by yourself. I don't want to be there when the place falls in.”
Trevor sighed and shook his head. “You've become a cautious soul, Billy. When are you going to stop blaming yourself for what happened on Mangareva and have some fun like you used to? You won't even hunt pearls with these Texans, and I know you want to.”
Billy felt the guilt well up like an ocean tide. “I'm out of the pearl business. For good. You go on over to Esau's saloon. I have better things to do.”
He stalked out of the kitchen, leaving Trevor there alone. He went to his room, washed his face, put on a clean shirt, and combed his hair. When he was sure the Australian had gone, he left his room, walked through the parlor, and went out the front door of Widow Humphry's place, into the dark. He crossed the street, nodding to a couple of locals who greeted him, and turned the corner of Snyder's store.
There was a light on in Carol Anne's room. He climbed the stairs and knocked on the door.
 
 
When Carol Anne saw him standing at the top of the stairs, her breath caught in her throat. She had been wondering if he would ever come to see her again. Billy had been spending so much time with Trevor that she was actually getting a little jealous of the big Australian. “Hi, Billy,” she said.
“Are you busy?”
“No, not at all. Would you like to come in?”
“Yes, thank you.”
They sat at the table and made conversation for a while, until Billy got around to telling her the reason for his visit. “I have a business proposition in mind that you may be interested in,” he said.
“Business?” she asked.
“Yes. I've gotten to like some of the people around here, and I'm thinking about staying. I'm thinking about going into business, but I don't have the money to get started. I need some investors.”
“Just a few weeks ago, people were talking about this town dying,” Carol Anne said.
“That was before you started the pearl rush,” he said with a grin. His smile was handsome and it made wrinkles line his eyes with character. “I believe that with a little organization, the pearl business could last here indefinitely. Trevor has already started talking to John Crowell about ways to protect the mussel beds. Crowell is going to try to drum up some interest through his paper.”
“So, you're going back into the pearl business?”
“No, I'm through with pearls. I have another idea. The inn has been full now for two weeks straight. Widow Humphry says she hasn't had as much business in years. Those out-of-town pearl-hunters have taken every available room, and people are sleeping out on the open ground.”
“You're going to build another inn?”
“Yes. And a store, too. And I'm going to buy a big wagon to take supplies out to the pearl-hunting camps so they won't have to come into town to shop. Maybe next year I'll buy a little steam-powered boat so I can reach the North Shore camps as well.”
Carol Anne sat back in her chair and beamed at Billy. She loved his big ideas and his poetic talk of pearls. She was glad he was planning to stay in town. He had brought hope to Port Caddo, and he gave no one greater hope than he gave her. “How much do you need?” she asked.
“I have some money in the bank in New Orleans, but it's not enough. I'll need a couple of thousand more. I didn't know if you had any plans for your pearl money yet, so I thought I'd tell you first. I thought you might want to invest some of it.”
She didn't want to appear overanxious. She wasn't going to throw herself or her money at Billy. She didn't think he'd respect that. He wanted a woman who could behave with a measure of self-restraint. He would admire her more if she thought it over for a while. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for telling me before anybody else. I'll have to think about it, though. How soon do you need to know?”
“As soon as possible. I don't want somebody else getting the idea and beating me to it.”
“I'll let you know tomorrow,” she said. “I'm very interested.”
Billy smiled. “Good.” He got up. “Well, good night.”
“Wait, Billy,” she said before he could open the door. “I want to show you something.”
She went to her old tobacco tin on the shelf above her bed. She put one knee on the bed to reach it. “I took the pearl you gave me to Marshall and found a jeweler there who could mount it,” she said, opening the tin. She removed a gossamer chain of gold, adorned with a tiny pendant—a delicate crown of gold embracing the white orb. She draped it across her fingers so he could see.
Billy touched her hand as he examined the piece. “Nice job,” he said. “Will you put it on?”
She shook her hair over her shoulders and reached behind her neck to fasten the chain. She had worn it only a few times, and only in her room. She started to get embarrassed when she couldn't hook the clasp.
“Let me help you,” Billy said.
When she turned, he found the chain in her hands under her veil of shining black hair. She pulled her hair to one side so he could see the clasp.
“There,” he said, turning her by the shoulders. He admired her for a moment. “It looks beautiful on you. I hope you'll wear it.”
“I will,” she said.
He studied her for a long moment. Then he smiled, turned away, and stepped toward the door. “I'll see you tomorrow. Think about my proposition.”
“I will.” She stood at the door to watch him walk down the stairs, along the back of the building, and into the dark. There was nothing
to think about. Of course she would invest in his business ventures. Anything to root him to Port Caddo. The money meant nothing to her. There was nothing at all to think about.
But she did think, and by morning, Carol Anne was glad she had waited. She had come up with a wonderful idea. It was bold, but ingenious. She was going to tell Billy that she wanted to do more than just invest. She wanted an equal partnership.
 
 
When Carol Anne told Billy of her decision that afternoon, he accepted immediately. He would invest everything he had, and she would match it. They would split all profits down the middle. She would run the store and the inn, he would man the kitchen and drive the wagon to the pearl camps between meals.
Billy told Widow Humphry that afternoon that she would have to find another cook. Carol Anne broke the news to old man Snyder. She was afraid he would be angry, but he was delighted. She was like a granddaughter to him, and it elated him that Billy had taken an interest in her, even if it meant competition for his store.
The new partners spent the afternoon walking around town together, causing a stir. They looked at several likely sites for their business. A few buildings and lots were for sale, but they were located poorly, off the main street. There were a couple of lots available just above the wharf, but they were on low ground, only a few feet above the level of the bayou.
Billy asked around. Nobody in town could remember the water getting that high. He went to Goose Prairie Cove to ask Esau.
“I've lived on the lake for forty years,” the old Choctaw said, “and I seen the water go that high just once, back in thirty-eight. That was a freak storm that year. I never hope to see the likes of it again. Big Cypress Bayou ran like a river for two days.”
“But you don't think it will happen again?”
“It happened once. I guess it could happen again. There would be a risk building there. But if your place flooded there, so would my saloon. I'm no higher here than you would be there.”
“It's a good location otherwise,” Billy said. “Right next to the wharf.”
“And just across the street from the jailhouse,” Esau said. “You could visit your friend, Captain Brigginshaw. He almost landed there last night.”
“Did Trev cause trouble?”
“Some, but me and the constable got him settled down. He's one of those mean drunks, Billy.”
“I know.”
Billy and Carol Anne agreed that afternoon to risk high water and construct a new building for their store and inn on the low ground just above the wharf. Theirs would be the first business the steamboat passengers saw when they disembarked.
 
 
They dined together that evening at Rose Turner's eatery. Billy had ham steaks and potatoes. Carol Anne ate broiled chicken and greens. She wore her pearl pendant. Rayford Hayes, the local constable, and his wife, Hattie, stopped by their table to congratulate them on their partnership. The news was all over town.
“I threatened to put your friend, Captain Brigginshaw, in the jailhouse last night,” Rayford said. “He was picking fights out at Esau's place.”
“I heard. Did he hurt anybody?” Billy asked.
“No, Esau got him settled down. He likes that old Indian for some reason. Did you know Brigginshaw carries a gun?”
“He's licensed to carry it. He provides his own security for the pearls he buys and the money he carries. He didn't pull a gun on anybody last night, did he?”
“No, but he pulled his jacket back where I could see it.”
“He likes to fight a little when he gets drunk, but he won't draw a weapon unless somebody pulls one on him first, or goes for his satchel.”
“He ought to leave that satchel locked up somewhere instead of carrying it around all the time,” Rayford said. “Anyway, he apologized to me this morning and said he'd try to behave himself.”
“I hope he does,” Carol Anne said. She knew Constable Hayes as an old Confederate hero and the surest man in town with a handgun.
“That's a lovely necklace,” Hattie suddenly said. “Is that a local pearl?”
Carol Anne was stunned to have one of the prominent local wives speaking to her in public. Hattie had always been civil to her in the store, but this was quite different. She figured she owed the honor to the fact that she was dining with the famous Billy Treat. “Yes, ma'am,” she explained. “Billy found it at Goose Prairie Cove and gave it to me as a gift.”
Hattie gasped joyfully and made all sorts of eyes at Billy. “So this is the famous Treat Pearl that started the pearl boom. It certainly is a beautiful one.”
“Thank you,” Carol Anne replied.
When Rayford and Hattie left, Billy asked, “What was all that about?”
Carol Anne rolled the pearl between her fingers. “Oh, she probably got the wrong idea. Used to be, around here, that when a fellow found a pearl, he would give it to the girl he wanted to marry. I guess I should have straightened her out.”
Billy shrugged. “Let them think what they want to think. I gave you a gift. You shouldn't have to explain it to anybody.”
 
 
The next day, the gossip hounds spread the word that Carol Anne was wearing the Treat Pearl. People stopped her on the street to look at it. She was amazed at the warmth they extended to her. It was as if she had never owned another pearl.

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