Horrible Harvest

Two hours passed before Felix and me had our asses planted in our new saddles – He atop a spotted pony and me on my pale mount. Two black steeds and a rusty-colored pack horse were in tow behind us in a single file line. In my absence from her, Virginia never left from my thoughts. Not even the laudanum could stop my mind from running her through every bubble of rumination floating through the minutes spent away from her.

When we rode up to the boarding house, Bobby stepped out the front door, carefully placing his hat on his head. Bert followed, dragging Virginia along by her wrist.

“Which one of you fools give the girl a knife?” Bert asked.

“Relax, little brother,” Bobby said.

“Relax? She stabbed the old woman.”

I scowled at Virginia.

“She give her a poke. A sewing needle would’ve done more damage.”

“That’s not the point, Bobby. The woman is hopping mad.”

“Well, these are some fine-looking horses, boys.”

Felix blushed. “My granddaddy raised horses. Got to know a thing or two on his farm.”

“You picked them out, did you?”

“Yes, sir. Augustus left it up to me.”

Virginia tried to break loose from Bert’s grasp, but he jerked her back and growled in response. “We ain’t settled this knife business – ”

“Which one you want, Bert?”

“What?”

“Which one? Which horse?

“It don’t make a damn. They look exactly the same.”

“No, they don’t.”

“They’re two black horses. Stop ignoring my concerns about what this girl done.”

“Well, you’re almost right.”

“Right about what?”

“The two horses. They are both black, but there is one small difference.”

“I don’t know how to make it any plainer. I don’t give a good goddamn which horse I wind up with. Take whichever you want. What’re we gonna do with this wild-child?”

Bobby put the palm of his hand on one of the black horses’ head and gently stroked it between the eyes. “Ima take this one.”

“I don’t care.”

“You wanna know why?”

“I don’t give a shit, Bobby.”

“Look at the mane.”

“This little green-eyed mongrel just stabbed some ancient old bitch, and you got me looking over horses like it’s just another day.”

Bobby turned to Bert and slapped him without warning. “You’re becoming unwound, Bert. You know I don’t like that. It unsettles me, and what am I when I’m unsettled?”

Rubbing his cheek, Bert said, “You ain’t fun.”

“Right, and I like fun. I like having fun. I like being fun. Nothing in this world is worth being, having or doing if it don’t lead to fun. What’d I say when we left Bolivia?”

“You said, a lot. Which part are you talking about?”

“I said, from now on we were going to focus on just two things. Getting stinkin’ rich and having fun. Anyway. Anyhow.”

Bert nodded. “Right. I remember.”

“Now, you made me slap you. Do you think that was fun for me?”

Bert didn’t respond.

Bobby put his arm around his brother and squeezed him at the shoulder. “No. It wasn’t. I love you, little brother. I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t make me hurt you because that’s not fun for me. Understand?”

Bert nodded.

“Good. Now, the girl. She ain’t our problem.”

“She’s not?”

Bobby turned to me. “Augustus, my boy, tell my little brother why the girl’s not our problem.”

“Because she’s mine,” I answered without hesitation.

Bobby winked at me and patted Bert on the chest. “The girl is Augustus’s problem. That’s why we pay him.”

Bert didn’t respond.

“Give your big brother a smile.” When a fake smile was give, Bobby returned his attention to the horses. “Now, do you know why I picked this horse?”

“No,” came the hushed, agitated response.

“Because look there at the mane. You see that little streak of red hair?”

“I see it.”

“That’s why I chose this horse. That little streak of red is unexpected. It come out of nowhere. It excites the mind. It ain’t nothing but a streak of fun. This horse and me, we’re gonna have fun.” He climbed into the saddle and the steed let loose an uneasy grunt and took a few staggering steps to the left. “Easy, Fun, boy. Easy.”

“It’s a mare,” Felix said.

“What?”

“Your horse. Fun. It’s female. Not a boy.”

“All the better. I am a bona fide lady killer.” Fun give a small kick of her hind legs. “Spirited gal, ain’t she?”

“That’s what makes her fun,” I said.

Felix and Bert laughed.

“I like it,” Bobby said. “Kick up all you want, little Fun. We’re gonna have the time of our lives, you and me.”

Bert approached my pale mount and picked Virginia up. “Take your charge.”

“Take her?”

“We can’t hardly leave her behind. The old woman will chop her up and roast her in the oven.”

“I got a feeling our little friend here would come out on top in that deal,” I said, helping him place Virginia behind me on the horse.

“Even worse.” He climbed onto his horse. His black steed made less of a fuss than Bobby’s at the presence of a rider.

“What’re we to do with her?”

Bert shrugged. “Not my problem.”

I smirked. “Right.” I give the matter some thought and said, “We’ll find another boarding house. For the girl and me.”

“We’ll bring her to the celebration,” Bobby said.

“What?” Bert asked, sounding downright perturbed.

“What better way to impress this bunch than to show up at their party celebrating the death of their reviled manumitter with a little slave girl?”

“She ain’t a slave,” I said with a bit more bite than intended.

“Well, they don’t know that. They’ll just see us toting around a little black girl. Assumptions will be made.”

“But she’s not hardly black,” Felix said.

Bobby considered his point. “Then we’ll make a show of it. We’ll parade her around and give up her identity.”

“She’s not a show pony,” I said, still putting bite to my objections.

“She’s a little black girl I paid good money for. Now, she ain’t a slave because that kind of thing don’t exist no more – apparently. She’s a – ” He thought long and hard before finishing his thought. “She’s part of my collection.”

“Collection?” I asked, fighting the chill that come with his claim.

“That’s right. I’m a collector. I collect Southern cultural artifacts.; I am a preservationist of a bygone era.” He laughed. “These plantation fat cats will eat that up like sweet cream.”

“But what you’re claiming don’t make sense,” I said. “There’s no such thing.You can’t collect people.”

“People? She’s a negro, Augustus. Ain’t a person at this gathering we’re headed to who will consider our little one here people.”

He maneuvered his horse closer to me. “Let me tell you something about people. They’re afraid. Everyone of them. You, me, the whole goddamn world is afraid of something. All you gotta do in this world to make money is find out what scares people and convince them you know how to beat back their fears. These plantation types, they’re afraid this is the beginning of their total collapse. Free negroes means no more free labor, which means bit by bit, dollar by dollar, their money is gonna disappear. Who’s gonna stop that? Who’s gonna keep them fat and happy? Me, boy. The man who walked into the party with no compunction about showing off the little black girl he owns. Ima beat back what scares them. Ima save their fortunes. Me. The collector.” He smiled. “That’s what you’re to call me from now on. I’m the collector, and Ima save the south.”

With that, we rode through town, and then out of it. It was a good stretch after nightfall before we arrived at the bend in a road between two good-sized hills. A fast-moving snake of water rushed past us to our west. In the distance, we heard the sound of a fiddle and the boisterous jumble of conversations. Laughs were peppered in here and there to add to the spice of jubilation to the gathering ahead.

Clearing the bend, we saw a crowd of thirty or so people gathered in a celebration in a lamplit arc stretching out from a large two-story house.

“You boys ever mingled with rich folks?” Bobby asked, as we approached.

I didn’t answer. I had. The richest and the worst, all in one sumbitch.

“Daddy counseled one or two,” Felix said.

“That ain’t mingling. That’s serving. Rich folks ain’t regular. You understand? They’ve come to expect folks that are lower than them to lick their boots. These folks are gonna expect us to whip our tongues out as soon as they see us.”

Felix stuck his tongue out and then withdrew it. “I didn’t come prepared for the taste for shoe leather.”

“Good, because we’ve come to get our boots licked. We got something they want. They need us. Don’t be rude, but don’t sit up and beg neither. We are richer than them.”

“We are?”

“As far as they know, we are. Act like it.”

A group of six men, armed with long guns, appeared at the perimeter of the party and approached. The oldest of the group, a man down a hand and burn scars on his right ear, stepped ahead of the other five and asked, “Can we help you, gentlemen?”

Bobby tipped his hat. “Bobby Bunning, sir, and you are?”

“I’m curious to know what you fellas are doing here. At a private party.”

“You answered your own question. We’re here because it’s a party.”

The man smiled. “By invite only.”

“We’ve been invited.”

“By who?”

“My friend, the Bunning brothers have an open invitation to every party.”

“Well, friend, I’m afraid ain’t no strangers allowed here. An invitation need be proffered by one of our current attendees.”

Bobby smiled. “Are you an attendee? Or are you the help?”

The man grimaced. “I’m the law.”

“I see no badge or any other markings that suggest you are such.”

“We aren’t regular law. We’re private law.”

Bobby crossed his arms over his saddle horn and leaned forward. “That is quite the coincidence.”

“How so?”

“We’re in the private law business, too.”

“That so?”

“It is. Bert, show this gentleman your badge.”

Bert slowly reached toward the inside pocket of his jacket.

The butt of every long gun hit shoulders.

“Easy there, Bert,” the one-handed man said.

Bert reached even slower. “Nothing to get jumpy about.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Just getting my badge.”

“Don’t need to see it.”

“You’ll wanna see this,” Bobby said, smiling even bigger now.

Bert finally reached his pocket, dug inside it, pulled out a shiny silver coin and tossed it to the one-handed man, who was forced to drop his weapon in an effort to catch it.

“The rest of you fellas want a badge?” Bobby asked.

The one-handed man eyed the coin in his hand. “You trying to buy your way into the party?”

“No,” Bobby said. “I’m trying to buy you.”

The one-handed man looked at his men and chuckled. “Wha’choo talking about, Bunny.”

“Bunning. Bobby. And thing of it is we can’t very well have competing firms that practice private law-keeping. It’s hard enough going up against the Federal troops. I say we pool our resources. What do you charge for your services?”

“Charge?”

“Your fees – What kind of money are you getting for tonight’s policing?”

“Money? We ain’t getting paid. As such.”

“You ain’t getting paid? Why not?”

“It just never come up. We got an invite, and we’re allowed to partake in the festivities.”

“And yet, you’re out here. Way beyond the fun. The food and liquor to your backs.”

“They brung us some biscuits and whatnot.”

“So, they paid you in biscuits?”

“No – It ain’t like that.”

“Why ain’t we getting paid?” a younger member of the group asked.

“Shut up, Kip.”

Bobby sat up. “You mind if I reach into my saddlebag?”

The one-handed leader of the group cleared his throat. “I suppose that’d be okay, but you pull out a gun or the like, we will shoot you dead.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” Bobby said, as he did a half turn in his saddle. Out of clear view of our armed gatekeepers, he fiddled with the saddlebag and then turned back around with a small canvas bag. He held it up with a smile and then tossed it to the younger man who’d just inquired about pay.

The youngster peered inside and then hooted. “Are these real?”

“They are.”

He pulled one gold coin out and showed it to his fellow private lawmen. “Lookie here, boys.”

The one-handed man asked. “What’s that for?”

“For your services.”

“Now I was clear on that point, Bunning. We’re hired on to watch over the party.”

“And you’re getting paid in biscuits.”

“They brought out some ale, too.”

“Darren, the man just give us a bag of gold.”

“I said, shut up, Kip.”

“I’m just saying that’s good pay for just letting him pass through.”

“That’s not what the pay is for,” Bobby said.

“Then what’s it for?” Kip asked.

“It’s for guarding us.”

“Guarding you?”

“That’s right. We’re strangers riding into a party without an invite. I’d say having our own armed guards would be a prudent gambit on our part. Arriving with armed guards everyone knows, would be especially sensible. Me and my friends here, we’d feel both protected and welcomed by such a development.”

The one-handed man looked at his men and then down at the silver coin in his hand.

“What say you – Darren, was it?”

The one-handed man peered up at Bobby and thought long and hard ‘fore saying, “What the hell? Biscuits were stale anyhow.”

The men turned on their heels and escorted our group past the perimeter and into a clearing that put us in full view of every partygoer. The chatter come to hushed murmurs as we got closer.

A stick-thin man dressed in one of the finest suits I’d ever seen, even finer than I’d seen Mr. Miller wear, pushed his way through the crowd of people and stepped to the fore, holding a copper mug of ale.

“Darren, what is this? Is there trouble?”

The one-handed man was about to offer an explanation when Bobby spoke over him before he cut but two words out.

“No trouble. No trouble at all. I am Robert Isaac Bunning. Folks call me Bobby. The younger, slightly less handsome version of me on the other black pony is Albert Simon Bunning. We are the Bunning brothers – Bert and Bobby. The other two here on horseback are our associates – Tall Augustus and Smiling Felix. The negro girl hiding herself behind Augustus is – Hell, I’ve done forgotten her name.”

“Virginia,” I said.

“Right, Virginia.”

“Darren, why are men I don’t know entering our gathering?”

Again, Bobby spoke up first. “Don’t know? I just introduced the lot. You want me to go through it again? I’m Bobby.”

“I heard you the first time. I know your names. I don’t know you.”

“I’m Darren’s employer. The others, too. I believe one of them is named Kip, or something to that effect.”

“What the devil does that mean?”

“I’m not exactly sure on that?” Bobby said. “Kip – Your name? Has it got any special meaning?”

“It’s short for Christopher.”

“Short for Christopher? How does that work? Kip ain’t anywhere in Christopher – ”

“Mr. Bunning, I don’t give a goddamn about the boy’s name. I know the boy. I was referring to you. What do you mean by employer?”

“I mean, I employ them. I pay them. They work for me.”

“They work for you? I’ve employed them. For the evening. To guard our gathering.”

“And we’re gonna have to talk about that. You paid them in stale biscuits and beer. That’s a bit on the cheap side for a man dressed as fine as you.”

“Darren, I must insist you escort these men out of here.”

“Now, I am sorry. That was rude of me. I shouldn’t have called you cheap. It’s just that Darren here has put together a fine cadre of security professionals, and – Well, paying them with such wages is – And I mean no offense by this – It’s just insulting.”

“Mr. Bunning, I don’t know your game, sir, but – ”

“I wish you’d call me Bobby. Now, I’ve noticed you’ve got a lot of fine-looking ladies in attendance here tonight. Ladies,” he said, tipping his hat. “Are they all spoken for, or are there a few that might lend an ear to this old dog? I do love chatting up the ladies.”

“Mr. Bunning – ”

“Bobby. Now, don’t let my good looks fool you, ladies. I’m as innocent as a newborn.” He put his hat over his heart. “I am chastened by the Lord himself, and he has directed me to remind one or possibly two of you how lovely you are.”

He was greeted with a smattering of giggles.

“Mr. Bunning – ”

“Bobby.”

“Mr. Bunning, I am directing you to exit this property at once. This is a private matter of celebration. We do not know you and therefore, do not welcome your presence. If you do not ride out of here on your own accord, I’m afraid I will have to ask Darren and his men to escort you out of here in a manner that is befitting your level of resistance.”

Bobby dismounted Fun and grimaced a bit when his feet hit the ground. “You’ll forgive me, but I’ve forgotten how things can get bunched up and made to feel a little numb in a saddle. Been riding trains for so long, I’ve lost my horseback bones. And to be frank, I’ve got more to corral in my lower region than most men, so can’t always find a place for my tenders.”

“What are you doing? I asked you to leave. And I most certainly don’t approve of your topic of conversation. As you pointed out, there are ladies present.”

“There are, and I do apologize. I should reserve such talk for more intimate discussions. The Lord has given me a mighty big burden to bear. Mighty big, and he has directed me to share it with, As I said previously, one or two – Hell, let’s make it three of you fine gals. If you’re not spoken for, of course.

“And I know you asked, me to leave. I do. And this may seem a bit discourteous, but my friends and me, we ain’t leaving. We’ve rode a long way to do a little dancing and a little drinking and a little talking. And maybe a little bit more if the mood so instructs.

“You see, King Abe is dead, and we want to revel in the celebration with like-minded folks.” He caught the eye of a blushing, blonde girl, as finally dressed and as skinny as the man hosting the party. Bobby gave her a sly smile and wink, to which she reacted with a wobble in her knees. “Hello, darling.”

“Mr. Bunning, I must insist you do not address my daughter without express permission from me. Permission you will not receive because you are a crass, uninvited guest. A guest that I must now direct be forcibly removed by Darren and his men. Darren.”

Darren didn’t move. Not an inch

“Darren, remove Mr. Bunning and his associates from my property.”

Darren still made no effort to do as asked.

“Darren, have you lost your senses?”

“What’s your daughter’s name?” Bobby asked.

“That is none of your concern. Darren, what is wrong with you?”

“His hearing has gone bad from all the stale biscuits and cheap ale you give him.”

“Mr. Bunning, you don’t understand how things work around here. Darren and his men are not paid in dollars or goods for their services. They benefit by earning access to the men who manage affairs in our community.”

“Benefit? From low drink and bad food?”

“Darren, if you’ve got any hope of finding work around here after this night, you will remove this rabble from my property.”

Darren remained silent and placid.

“If you ain’t gonna tell me your daughter’s name, you can at least tell me yours.”

“My name is Arthur Andrew Jackson. I own the ground on which you stand, and I am the once and former adjunct legal counsel to the honorable Alexander Stephens.”

“Arthur Andrew Jackson. Andrew Jackson. As in President Andrew Jackson?”

“We share a relation. I am proud to say.”

“As you should be. And I hear tell that it is not hard to find a string of relations amongst the fine folks of the great state of Tennessee. Some may say there are nothing but relations in these parts.”

I alone chuckled at Bobby’s joke. Everyone else did not detect it as a joke or a slight in the least.

“Do you go by Artie or Andy?”

“I go by Mr. Jackson.”

“Doesn’t suit you. I like Artie.”

“Darren, I will ask you for a final time to do the job I hired you to do.”

“He give us gold, Mr. Jackson. A bag of it. That ain’t access to nothing but peace of mind that tomorrow will be a damn sight better than today. Can you top that? ‘Cause I tell you right this minute, if you hand over a bigger bag of gold, we’ll drag Mr. Bunning – I mean Bobby and his boys out by their feet. This ain’t personal. This is business.”

Mr. Jackson stood with a stern and wounded look on his face.

“This doesn’t have to be confrontational, Artie.”

With gritted teeth, the command come from deep within Mr. Jackson’s gut. “Do not call me that.”

“Fine. Let’s make this our first negotiation of the evening. You call me Bobby, and I’ll call you Mr. Jackson. What harm can come from such an arrangement? You show me the informal manner in which I like to operate, and I will show you the deference you prefer.”

Mr. Jackson considered his offer, and then said, “Fine, Bobby. Now, will you exit my party?”

“I will not, but I will address you as Mr. Jackson. Now, we’re getting somewhere. That’s what we call a win-win. We both got a little bit of what we wanted.”

“What I want is you gone from here. At once. With haste.”

“And I want to stay until all hours and get to know your daughter. Tell her my story. Give her a little twirl on the dance floor you got set up over there.”

The girl cast her gaze down, bit her lip and swiveled at the hips

“My daughter is 14-years-old, sir.”

Bobby laughed. “Ain’t that something? She looks 16 for sure. Well, then I will stop at twirling her on the dance floor and take up my adult twirls with some other lucky gal.”

The girl looked relieved and forlorn all at once. She had no idea what an adult twirl may entail, but she was curious.

“Mr. Bunning – ”

“Ahh, ahh – Bobby. You’ve done violated our agreement.”

“Goddamn it – Bobby. I find your behavior wholly inappropriate. She is a child. And you’ve made grotesque and lude suggestions about her person.”

“I have. Surely, that is so, Mr. Jackson. And I do apologize. And I want to make it right. I want to give you what you want. Me and my associates, and my employees, we will leave.”

“That is welcome news.”

“Let me finish. We will leave after you and a few of the other men who manage this community’s affairs hear me out.”

“What are we to hear?”

“My proposal.”

“Proposal for what, exactly?”

“A transaction beneficial to all parties.”

“We are in need of no benefits from the likes of you, sir.”

“Well, that is just clouded thinking, Mr. Jackson. Yes, it is. This celebration – This dance you’re doing on Lincoln’s grave – It’s given you a false sense of victory. It is a reason to drink and rejoice. I will give you that. But it is what’s known as a transient victory. As the days pass, anger will build in Washington. Punishment will come. They will come for this very property on which I stand – And I’ve forgotten – Bert, who exactly does this property belong to?”

“I believe it belongs to Mr. Jackson, Bobby.”

Bobby snapped his fingers. “That’s right. It does. Now I remember.”

Mr. Jackson laughed. “Are you not aware who has replaced Mr. Lincoln as the chief commander of the federal government?”

Bobby mulled over his question. “I can only say that he is a man of so little consequence that I do not know his name.”

“Andrew Johnson, sir. A Tennessean, and a Democrat.”

“Andrew? Let me guess, you share a relation with him, as well.”

“That is not the point – I do, yes, but that is not the point.”

“My Lord, that family tree of yours must be nothing but a straight pole.”

Again, I chuckled alone.

“I have no idea what you’re driving at, but I do know that President Johnson is friendly to the Southern cause.”

“He was so friendly to it, he joined the Union.”

“Nevertheless – ”

“I’ve been away for a good bit, but I do remember this. Presidents don’t run things by their lonesome. They got a house and a senate to contend with, and make no mistake about it, they – Those folks that represent every corner of the North – they are coming for you.”

“Nonsense.”

“They are out to replace you, Mr. Jackson. With the coloreds you kept shackled from cradle to field. They’re gonna give’em their 40 acres and a mule. You can count on that. And then, when they got all your old negroes fat and happy, they’re gonna give them rights to vote, and you wanna know what happens then?”

Mr. Jackson did not reply.

“The men that you put in chains – they are gonna be running things. They are gonna turn the tables. They are gonna put you in chains. That little pretty daughter of yours – They are gonna breed her like you done to their women – And not just with other whites, neither. They’re gonna get them a taste of her. And Mr. Jackson, let me tell you, the Lord has well-blessed my loins, but it’s nothing like the devil has given the black man.”

“Sir, that is enough – ”

“I am sorry I have to talk so direct, but I need you to understand that we ain’t dealing in if’s here. We are waiting on the when, and its coming. Sooner rather than later.”

“Even if you’re right, what can a lowly scoundrel like you do?”

He approached my pale mount and reached up for Virginia, and she scooted away from him

I pushed his hands away.

He snarled, but said nothing. He reached again, and again, I pushed his hand away. “Boy,” he said in a quiet, angry tone. “I ain’t gonna hurt her.”

I hesitated before doing a half turn toward her and said, “Go ahead. It’s okay.”

Trusting me, she didn’t resist when he reached for her a third time. He removed her from the saddle and placed her on the ground next to him. She stood, nervous and rigid.

“I don’t play by their rules, Mr. Jackson. Bought this negro just today. It’s my right to collect property – just as my fine black steed is my property – Part of my collection. And I say to you, that horse is not my slave, just as this little gal is not my slave. That horse is not in service to me, but she does satisfy my need for transportation. Little Virginia is not in service to me, but she will satisfy my need for sewing and cooking, and when she gets older – Let’s just say, she may satisfy a few other needs, but that in no way makes her a slave. My property, yes. My servant, no.”

“What is your point?” Mr. Jackson asked.

“My point is I know how to think around things. I know how to invent my own rights to this and that. If anyone tries to take my horse from me, I will shoot them dead because Fun here – Fun is her name – Fun is my property. I am well within my rights to kill any man that tries to take her. I don’t care what color he is or if he works for the government or not.

“Now, if I can protect my possessory rights of my horse in such a manner, I got the same rights to protect my ownership of my little negro girl.

“And, Mr. Jackson, I am well aware that makes me the lowliest of scoundrels, but sir, that is just the kind of scoundrel you need to protect your rights to your property.”

Mr. Jackson lifted his chin and set a frown on his face before saying, “That is a lot of talking without saying a single useful word. We fielded an entire army to defend the ownership of our property. Men finer than you, better trained than you, endowed with greater skills than you, smarter than you – They all failed to beat back the Yankee dogs.”

“That is true. Failed is the right word for what come of these last four years. It’s an ugly word – Failed.”

“And how will you avoid the same outcome?”

“Because the beat back ain’t my style. I’m more of a bring sides together type. I will defend my rights in the most vicious manner if called for, but I prefer handshakes and pats on the back. Hell, I hired your men right out from under you without so much as issuing an unkind word in the process.”

“And just how will you bring our sides together?”

“By pointing out both sides are the same – That there really ain’t but one side. Our side, Mr. Jackson. The white side.”

“Details, Bobby. You’ve asked to make a proposal to the decision makers of our community, and you’ve delivered nothing but a song and dance that is both out of tune and out of step. You are wasting our time.”

“Labor. The cost of it for you has just gone up a considerable amount. I got a plan to keep it down. Maybe even down to what it was before the war. I might could even get your workers to pay you back more than what you pay them. They’re gonna pay you to work for them.”

Bobby’s claim was met with a smattering of skeptical laughter.

“So, you are an illusionist, are you, sir? You are gonna create a negro workforce that will pay us to work for us?”

“I am. And not just negroes. Any man looking for a nickel will give you three cents to earn it.”

“And how will you accomplish this?”

“Well, you might not know it by looking at me, but I got more money than God, Mr. Jackson. That might be overstating it a bit, but I’ve certainly got more money than you. Than the whole lot of you decision makers in attendance tonight – Put together.”

Mr. Jackson hesitated before saying. “That’s a bold claim by a scoundrel such as yourself.”

“You keep using that word like it’s a bad thing. Nice fellas are poor. Scoundrels like me are rich. That’s just a basic fact of life.” He winked at a good and fit brunette woman standing next to a short, portly man with straw-like gray hair. She blushed but held eye contact with him.

“Regardless, I don’t see how the size of your purse accomplishes what you’ve proposed.”

“I’ve been here – Bert, how long have we been here?”

“Here? This evening?”

“No – Not this evening – Good Lord – I meant when did our train up from New Orleans arrive?”

“A week ago, yesterday.”

“A week ago, yesterday – We’ve been here eight days, and it has been a productive eight days, Mr. Jackson. We bought – What, Bert 7,000 acres?”

“Twelve thousand.”

“Right, twelve thousand acres from mountain to basin.”

Mr. Jackson raised an eyebrow.

“Paid so little for it, I’m planning on buying 12,000 more next week.”

“You’ll pardon me if I’m skeptical that such a purchase was made.”

“It was, but it ain’t important you believe me at this point and time. What is important is that you know my intentions for the land. Ima give it to coloreds.”

“Give it?”

“Well, for half the year. All a negro fella has to do to get an acre of land is build a house on it, and he’s got him an abode free and clear for six whole months. Now, I’ll sell him the lumber and sundries at a bit of a markup, I will do that. And he won’t have the money to buy nothing, of course, so that will present as a problem, but I’ve got a big ol’ heart on me, so I will loan him the money to buy his supplies from me. These will be high interest loans. I’ve got a heart, but it don’t beat without money coming back my way. After six months, well, that’s when things get even more profitable for me because his free house and acre of land will cost him a good bit of currency – after all, free for six months ain’t free forever. It is in fact contracted under a perpetual lease agreement. That acre of land he’s living on will need to be what you call income-producing. How it produces income, I don’t care. Farming, brothel, black smithing, dance hall, hospital – It just don’t make a damn to me.”

“And how will this benefit us, Mr. – Bobby?”

“Ima sell you income rights to whatever he – all of them produce.”

“Pardon?”

“Ima give you their money – Well, after they give me their monthlies for the house I give’em and all the supplies and whatnot that took to build and maintain their usage of it, a good chunk of their income goes to you.”

Mr. Jackson tried to wrap his mind around his proposal. “I believe Ima need more details.”

“Works like this. You’re gonna give me three dollars an acre – That’ll give you a full share of the income produced from that acre. Now, the negro fella I give that property to, let’s say he generates $10 a week in income. Five of those dollars are gonna come back to me to pay for that free land and the loans that come with it. Four’ll go to you as an owner of a full share in the land, and that leaves one whole dollar for that hard working colored fella – And by God, he’s gonna appreciate every penny of it because that is freedom in America, Mr. Jackson.

“Bert, you heard all those numbers I threw about. Tell Mr. Jackson what his three-dollar investment is gonna earn him over the course of a year.”

“Two-hundred and eight dollars.”

“Two-hundred and eight dollars – Off a three-dollar investment. Sounds like I’m cheatin’ myself out of some funds. Might have to rethink that price.”

Mr. Jackson stood in silence as the wind whirled all about around him and the other partygoers. His eyes darted back and forth as he calculated the return on investment for purchasing ten shares, a hundred shares, a thousand, and more. Finally, he said, “It’s an attractive offer. I will concede that, but how will your enterprise lower my labor costs?”

“Because ain’t a body around that can feed a family on a dollar a week. They’re gonna come to you hat in hand, willing to work for a penny an hour. Any white man looking for work is gonna lower his price to compete. There just ain’t no downside for you in this deal, Mr. Jackson. Ima hand you a new class of folks. The desperate class. They’re gonna be white, black – any color folks come in, and they are gonna work for whatever you offer because they ain’t got no choice.”

Once again, Mr. Jackson mulled over the numbers in his head. Finally, he smiled and said, “Please, call me Arthur.”

The two men shook hands, and the party slowly come back to life, while Mr. Jackson invited his daughter to step forward. “And this pretty young lady, you’ve flattered with your attention, her name is Rachel – Named after one the finest ladies of our great state. Sadly, she was too divine for this plane and was called up before given the opportunity to serve as our country’s First Lady.”

Bobby kissed Rachel’s hand. “My dear, you are as pretty as a peach, and as dangerous as a viper. I’m afraid temptation would win me over if we were ever to keep company alone.”

The girl’s eyes widened, and she lost control of her knees. She shook at the joints and was only kept from collapse by Bobby’s quick response. He held her up at the waist and handed her off to her father. “She is lovely, Arthur, but I’ve got some parts of me that need stretching out, and she’s far too young to help me reach all the spots that need reaching.” He made eye-contact with the brunette. “That one there, she’s no one’s daughter – I mean no one in attendance here tonight?”

“She is Harland’s wife. The gentleman standing next to her.”

“Wife? Then that makes her age appropriate.”

“It does, but as I said, she is Harland’s wife.”

“And she will remain thusly. I’ve no interest in marrying her out from under the old codger. I simply need her for an hour. No more. And then I can enjoy some stretching with another wife or appropriately aged daughter.”

Mr. Jackson grinned. “You are quite sure of your powers of persuasion, aren’t you, Bobby?”

“Arthur, just a few minutes ago, you wanted me dragged from here by my feet. Now, you’ve introduced me to your most beautiful daughter. I can be very persuasive. In matters of business and matters of affection.”

“Money is bait enough for business, young man. There is no equivalent allure in matters of love.”

“You undervalue my charms and my good looks, sir.”

“Bobby my boy, if you can lure young Katherine – Harland’s wife, from his side before the evening is done, I will give you all the change in my pocket if you put up yours should you fail to do so.”

“A wager? I would think that too debased for a man like you.”

“It is only a wager if there is risk of me losing money. This is a surety for me. She teaches Sunday school and has nursed our wounded returning home from the war. She is as saintly as they come.”

Bobby smiled. “You are aware that it is a saint’s duty to minister to demons. I’m just the devil she needs. It won’t take the evening. Give me the next hour,” he said, with a wink as he headed toward Harland and his wife.

Virginia took a step to follow, but I dismounted my pale pony, and grabbed her by the shoulder and said, “With me.”

She latched onto my hand like it was a lifeline and eagerly stepped to my side, trying her darndest not to be seen.

“A negro with green eyes,” a woman said, as she stooped down to get a closer look at Virginia’s face. “That is a rare breed, isn’t it?” She stood up straight. “The mother was a whore, no doubt. Seducer. Bedded her master to win his favor. They are loathsome creatures, and the females are the worst. Nigger sirens got hold of my dear departed before the war – Produced three fair pups – Sold them all the second they crawled out of their mothers’ wombs. The females were disciplined. I can assure you.” She gasped. “To think, we will now have to live among them without recourse to correct their lewdness and barbarity.”

I held my tongue until I could hold it no more. “I do desire we be better strangers, ma’am.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s Shakespeare. It means I’d rather spend a lifetime conversing with a rancid old pile of shit than spend one more second with you, you putrid old hag – Respectfully, of course.”

A fiery look of outrage washed over her face. “How dare you, sir.”

“Easily, ma’am. That’s how I dare. You spin tales of your dead husband, the rapist, and spew your hatred. You ain’t nothing but garbage, and it don’t take an ounce of daring to tell you so. All I need is for you to shut your fish-rot mouth long enough for me to get the words out.”

I felt a tug of my arm and turned to see Bert staring back at me. “Guard the perimeter.”

“What?”

“Take the girl and Felix and guard the perimeter. Where we entered.”

I give it a second or two before nodding. Everything in me wanted to knock the fire out of the old sow for a woman, but instead, I just give her one last look before stepping away, with Virginia in tow. My mind was filled with every hateful word I could think of to call the foul crow, and I barely kept track of the present as we, we being Virginia sitting atop my pale mount while I led them on foot, and Felix riding his spotted pony, we strolled along the path and reached the other side of the clearing.

Few words were spoke as we stood guard over the celebration that was now out of sight. The laughter got louder as more drink was consumed. The music played and hoots of joy filled the night sky. Virginia dismounted and found a soft spot in the tall grass to rest her head. Within minutes, she was fast asleep. All was peaceful until Bobby and the brunette appeared out of the darkness.

“Hello, boys.”

“Bobby,” Felix said.

I give a nod and nothing more.

“This is Katherine.”

“Hello,” the woman said.

“Howdy,” Felix replied.

Again, I nodded.

“This pretty gal here has been kind enough to offer to apply her nursing skills to my aches.”

“Well, that is mighty kind,” Felix said.

“It is. It is. We’re gonna step right over to that tree there, and she’s gonna work her magic. Ima need you boys to keep an eye out for intrusions. She’s gonna have to concentrate extra hard because I am sore as sore can be.” He winked and guided the brunette to the tree.

We heard nothing but muffled conversation from the two at first. There were plenty of giggles and the sounds of playful scolding, followed by a gasp and nervous laugh. Then the brunette called out to her God and yelled out the phrase “Oh my goodness” with great frequency. A cry of delight come in waves and followed a series of laughs, bathed in a tone of relief.

A few more minutes passed, and the two reappeared. The brunette’s hair was disheveled, and Bobby was pulling his suspenders over his shoulder. Traces of the ground clung to parts of each of their clothing.

“All better?” I asked, as they approached.

“Worked that soreness right out. She did,” Bobby said, with a grin.

With flush cheeks, she carved a smile so wide upon her face, it nearly stretched from ear to ear. “Mr. Bunning – Bobby – He was in quite the state.”

“Stiff as a board, I was.”

She placed her hand over her mouth to cover a guffaw.

“Felix, son, would you be so kind as to escort the lovely Katherine back to her husband?”

The brunette turned to him with a pout. “Are we to part here, Mr. Bunning?”

He gently took her hand. “My good lady, you are my star light. You traveled millions of miles across the cold vacuum of space to bathe me in your intense glow, and you have consumed me, every vibrating atom of me. If I were to spend another second in your ever-vibrant presence, my spirit would owe a deficit to this existence, and I would be but a ghost doomed to walk this Earth in search of the passion you drained from me.” He kissed her wedding ring.

She blushed a shade of red so bright it cut through the dark of night.

Bobby put her hand in Felix’s and directed the two to return to the party. When they were out of sight, he dug into his pockets for his tobacco pouch and papers.

“She must be some nurse,” I said.

“Boy, that gal can bend so far, I could’ve made twins out of her.” He handed the pouch and papers to me. “You do this a hell of a lot better than me.”

I took to rolling him a cigarette. “You said, something earlier about getting things shipped by train.”

He stepped to the side to piss. “Things? I did?”

I licked the edge of the paper. “The poppy fields in Texas.”

“Oh. Yes, the poppy fields.”

“How do we – What’s the process? How do we arrange for a shipment?”

He finished his business and returned to my side. “I telegram my associate. A week later, it’s in our possession.”

I handed him the cigarette. “But the railways ain’t reliable. They’re still blown to hell. How?”

“You forget. My business is working around things.”

“Fine. Then tomorrow we can – Make arrangements?”

He struck a match on the heel of his boot and then lit his cigarette. “Not tomorrow. The next day. Maybe two.”

“Why not tomorrow? Why two days?”

“We’ll be traveling.”

“Traveling? To where?”

“To where? I don’t know. From here is all I know. What do you think of Darren and Kip and the other boys?”

“I don’t think of them. Why we leaving?”

“If you had to think about them? What sort of thoughts would you have?”

“They’re crackers. Vets. Darren was artillery.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve known a lot of artillery with one hand and one ear nearly burnt to nothing .Why we leaving?”

“Would they be worth keeping on?”

“As what?”

“I don’t know. Your staff.”

“My staff?”

“Your men. Could you whip them into shape. Make them actual security professionals, so to speak?”

“I s’pose. Why?”

“I’m trying to decide if they’re worth taking with us.”

“Taking with us where?”

“Still don’t know.”

“Okay, then why? Why we leaving?”

He took a deep drag and then slowly let out a long stream of smoke. “Because I lied.”

“About?”

“The land. The free houses for negroes. The whole lot. None of it’s true. I made it up. Every word. Pretty much thought of it on the ride here.”

“You lied?”

“Yeah. Through my teeth. Bert is collecting investments right now. Arthur Andrew Jackson give over enough shares for three thousand acres. These rich shits carry their treasure on them. The war turned them against banks. All their old slaves know where they keep their money in their houses. They’re so afraid they’ll be robbed, they load their persons with as much as they can carry.” He turned to me and winked. “Lucky for us.”

“You are a confidence man?”

“I am a confidant man who thrives on the waves of self-made myths of my own abilities. Men give me their money because they believe in my business acumen. Women give me their virtue because they believe in my carnal skills. I exaggerate to titillate. I create mysteries that promise, if solved, riches and rapture. Invest in me and you live like kings. Spread your legs like wings for me, and you shall soar to staggering heights of elation. And I must say, not a man who has so invested reaped anything but regret, but every woman? She has journeyed with me in a frenzied tangle of flesh and sweat and has left my side with memories so pleasant it will carry her through the dull and passionless days she is forced by society to spend with her decidedly less affluent husband. I am a blessing and a curse, tall Augustus.”

“And what lies’ve you told me?”

He studied my face with his cigarette hanging from his mouth. “A few. I’m sure. It is second nature to me. The terms of your employment are real. That is not a lie. Felix’s, too.”

“Bolivia? The nitrate mines?”

“True. Parts of the story. Bert and I were in Bolivia, but we did not own mines as much as we stole from their owners. It was very profitable. Very profitable, but it was a deeply hazardous endeavor. We barely got out of there with our skins intact. Rumor has it that the Bolivian government has assassins on our heels.”

“The poppy fields?”

“Most decidedly true, and I will get you your opium. Mostly, because I am of the belief there is real money to be had selling it to all the bedraggled and tortured veterans like you that now have no war to fight.”

“And why should I believe you?”

“You shouldn’t, and you won’t. I know your kind, boy. You are made whole by your own corruption, and you’ve no room for any addition I may offer. You are a stagnant pond. The surface still and quiet. Almost serene. What lies beneath is algae and muck, choking out the life in the water’s depths. It is why I like you. You are not complicated. You are of an insightful nature, and you are angry. Lying to you would be useless and dangerous.

“And I will add, it is a relief to have an ear such as yours. One on which I can unburden the truth that churns inside of me like a bad meal.”

“Bert ain’t got such ears?”

“Bert is like any brother. He is mostly def to my confessions. What he does hear, he offers only judgments in response.”

I looked at Virginia, docile and innocent in her deep slumber. “And the girl?”

“What of her?”

“Why is she here? Why did you purchase her?”

He took a drag from his cigarette. “I am not perfect. I am saddled with a conscience. For the right people. The right souls. She is blameless in this world, yet she is taxed by the world’s cruelties as if she earned them. I bought her on a whim. To protect her. It was foolish and impetuous, and I hate myself for it because it was not smart.”

I studied him for a beat before responding, “Every act of bravery I witnessed in the war was committed by fools.”

He took a final drag from his cigarette. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to be brave. I want to be rich. Selflessness is a shit ploy we use to deceive God to get a free ticket to heaven. God knows my game, and that sonny-bitch is sending me straight to hell. I had no business trying to help the girl. That’s why she’s your problem now. Do whatever the hell you want with her. I had my moment of weakness. There will be no more to follow.” He headed toward the party.

“I can work with them. Darren, Kip and the others.”

He stopped and turned to me. “Good.”

“I know of some others. Men I served with. They’re headed to Oregon, but they were scheduled to spend a number of weeks in Kansas City – A preacher there was said, to have a boarding house free to Confeds making their way West. I can telegram them there.”

“Preacher? They ain’t religious types, are they?”

I grinned. “No. Not in the least.”

“Good. Because ain’t room for nothing but my lies and horse shit in this outfit. Telegram them when we reach. Hell, let’s go to Memphis. Plenty of scared, rich, white folks with deep pockets to pick there.”

With that, he returned to the party. Felix and I’d see him two more times that evening, escorting a total of three more women to the tree where they’d help him work the stiffness from his bones. That he managed to find such stiffness so frequently in one evening was impressive.

We were back at the boarding house by daybreak. Bert had collected investments for six thousand shares in Bobby’s land for labor scheme. He coulda sold more, but to legitimize the liem he refused every third man who approached to be an investor. He made up some nonsense about the exclusionary nature of the Bunning brothers’ firm, and walked away from their money, which made the next fella more eager to invest twice as much as he’d intended.

Sleep was denied us. Felix was sent to visit the dirt kicker who’d sold us our horses, and he was to buy six more mounts for Darren and the others.

My newly hired staff was instructed to walk through the night and meet up with us at Beckwith’s by ten that morning. Upon arrival, they were fitted with second-hand suits and sundries. Each received a Griswold Gunnison packed in their very own Slim Jim holsters.

We was a gang. Led by the finest conman in all the world. Constructed by the Devil himself. He was so good at twisting tales into money, God himself was made poor after investing in one of his schemes. Evers and Yates would join us after they give Oregon a six-month run. To say it didn’t pan out for them is like saying it ain’t good when you get an itch to your crotch. No shit. We’d plot are way across the South for the next few years. Getting rich, high and deadlier with each yarn spun to earn the Bunning Brothers gang more treasure. The folks we dealt with got poorer if they were lucky. Dead if they weren’t. You’ve heard enough about me now to know that I truly was made for killing.

Daddy taught me well, but Mr. Miller had his hand in it to, my upbringing. I got blood on my hands, and they was the ones who give me the dagger.