Horrible Harvest

Trigger Warning: This entry is fraught with a despicable racial slur. It’s done for authenticity, to paint racist shitbags as the shitbags that they are. If you are offended by such a thing, don’t read on.

I caught a flurry of activity to my right and turnt to see two fellas approaching, lumber in hand, snorting and snarling like two bulls. I placed my hand on the grip of my Gunnison, but Douglas directed me to calm myself.

“What in all hell is this?” the bigger of the fellas said. They was both shabby and grizzled in complexion. The one who spoke grew a beard he didn’t have no business growing. More hairs sprung from his neck than his face. He looked as if he was being strangled by a scarf of unkempt pubic hair.

“Looks like a nigger woman on our street,” the smaller of the two said. He had bulk but lacked the height of a full-grown a-dult. His forearms were meaty and traversed by wide tracks of veins.

I stepped to them, topping the largest of the two’s height by a good four inches. “You should move on.”

“Boy, get out our way.”

“She got her hands on a white man.”

“Turn yourself around. Move on. As of now, tomorrow is still an option for the two of you. If you don’t heed my advice, that option’s gonna slip away real quick.”

The smaller man grunted out, “You taking up for the nigger whore and the nigger lover.”

I slapped the big fella.

“What the hell?”

“Augustus,” Douglas said, placing his hand on my shoulder.

The big fella took a swing at me, but I stepped out the way and responded by sending a fist of my own into the smaller fella’s nose.

The little guy placed his hands over his now bleeding nose and said, “What in the name of – Why’d you poke me in the face?”

“Because I don’t know the difference between the two of you. One dumbshit cracker’s same as the next.”

The big fella took another swing, landing a glancing blow on my ear. I responded by kicking the smaller fella in the jimmies.

“Augustus,” Douglas repeated. “We must turn the other cheek.”

“You’re welcome to keep your cheeks out of it,” I said. Back to the crackers.“Your big friend here is going to get you beat all to hell,” I said to the smaller man, now bent at the waist, given a tight hold to his jimmies.

“Goddamn, Boone,” the smaller fella said, with a squeak. “Stop throwing punches.”

The big fella raised his piece of lumber with the intent of clocking me on the head, but I threw a fist into his throat before he come down with it. He stumbled back and hacked for a clean breath. I wasted no time in kicking the smaller man in the gut.

Douglas give a grab of my arm and said, “This isn’t the way of the Lord Jesus. All you’re doing is making things worse for me and mine. Didn’t the war teach you nothing?”

I yanked my arm free. “You’re looking at what the war taught me.”

“War didn’t teach you this. Daddy did.”

He couldn’t’ve said nothing more hurtful.

The smaller man held his belly with one hand. “You busted something. I can feel it.”

“I bruised the jiggle in your gut. The pain will pass.”

The big fella found easier breathing.

“Well, you nearly broke Boone’s throat.”

“Nearly,” I replied.

“You ain’t gonna be so high and mighty when we gather up the rest.”

“If the rest is anything like you, I ain’t too concerned.”

 “You brought on some bad news for yourself, fella. There’s a hundred of us, and we’re coming for you and your nigger lovin’ preacher – Will be stringing up that ol’ nigger whore, too – ”

Douglas flew past me and sent a windmill of fists that landed on every square inch of the smaller man’s face. The big fella stepped forward to intervene with a half heart, but I pulled my revolver and shook my head.

“Stop – Douglas. Lord above – Stop. Augustus – Don’t let him kill that man. Stop him.” Gladys lurched forward, but I caught her by the waist and pulled her back. “Let me go. Stop him.”

“Calm yourself. Calm down.” I felt her relax. “You’ll get yourself hurt.” I aimed my gun in the air, pulled back the hammer, and fired a shot. The crack of sound bounced off the buildings that surrounded us. It startled Douglas, and he stopped mid-punch. He let go of the smaller man’s collar and his head fell to the street.

“Oh, Lord,” Gladys said, “Is he dead?”

Douglas stood up straight, drawing in heavy breaths and panting them out. He backed away, dazed.

Gladys quickly made her way to the smaller man and knelt beside him. With a cry in her eyes, she said, “He’s breathing. He’s alive. Thank the Lord he’s alive.”

To Douglas I said, “Get your woman and get out of here.”

He looked at me with a blank stare.

“Go. Get out of here. Get out of New Orleans. Not three days from now. Now.”

“Lord forgive me – I didn’t mean – The threats come out of his mouth – He threatened my – Dear Gladys, I’m sorry – I failed the Lord.”

“We need to get this man medical attention.”

“We need to get you two out of here,” I said.

“We can’t just leave him.”

“Boone and I’ll take care of him. Isn’t that right, Boone?”

The big fella give a small nod.

She give pause.

“Gladys, you need to get my brother out of here. For your own safety. For his safety.”

She looked up at me. “You’ll get this man help?”

“I will.”

“The Lord will lay judgement on you if you’re lying to me.”

“I’ll get him help. I promise.”

She slowly stepped away from the little fella and turnt to the big one. “The Lord commands I bless you and hold you as dear to my heart as I would my own kin because you are my kin, Mr. Boone. I do not condemn you for the hate you hold for me. I pray your heart finds change before you step into the eternal, sir. Such change will bring you the peace you seek.”

He snarled and then looked to me. I give him a look that told him everything he needed to know. Be kind. He turned his eyes back on her and simply nodded.

She joined my brother by half. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. To me, he said, “Come home, Augustus. Come see your momma.”

“In time – How much stock do you put in that Dakota story?”

“Let it be, brother. Let it be.” He walked Gladys down the street. The two of them prayed together as they turnt the corner and stepped out of sight.

I give the big fella a glare. “Anything happens to them. I’ll put your head on a pike.”

“On a what?” Boone asked.

“I’ll kilt you dead. That’s all you need to know.”

He grunted. “You Union? In the war, I mean.”

“No.”

“Then you’re a turncoat Confed – A turncoat white – You gone against your own people – Your own kind.”

“You ain’t my people.” I give the little fella a once over. Weren’t a thing on his face that weren’t broke. Doctor would just tell him to give it time to heal up. “How much money do you have?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to know how much money you’re gonna give up.”

“You’re robbing me?”

“No. I’ma give you something in return.”

“What?”

“How much money you got?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. “Three-dollar. Just got paid last week’s wages.”

“Three dollars?”

“Yeah.”

“For a week’s work?”

“Yeah.”

“You know that’s shit pay, right?”

He shrugged. “Pay is pay. Fella couldn’t pay no more.”

“What kind of work?”

“Painting. Done his house up. Me and Teague.”

I pointed to the broke-face little fella. “And he would be Teague?”

“He would.”

“Fetch his pay out his pocket.”

“You robbing him, too – The both of us?”

“Told you. You’re gonna get something for your money.”

“What if I don’t want it?”

“You’ll want it.”

Boone squatted next to the little fella and rummaged through his pocket. Finding the money, he pulled it out and showed it to me.

I give it a look and snickered. “You might want to give it a count.”

“What fer?”

“Who collected your wages?”

“Collected?”

“The man – The one who hired you to paint his house- Who’d the fella pay? You collect it together – You and Teague?”

“Well, Teague rose up early and fetched it this morning. I just met up with him a little bit ago to get my share.”

“Count the money you just pulled out of Teague’s pocket.”

“What fer?”

“Can you count?”

“I can count money – Sure enough.”

“Then count it.”

He grimaced and looked at the coins in his hand. His cheeks turned beet red. “That ain’t right – They’s seven-dollar here.”

“That friend of yours stole two-dollar from you.”

“Sumbitch. Goddamn sumbitch.”

I snapped my fingers and held out my hand.

He shook his head in disgust and placed all the coins in the palm of my hand.

I put the coins in one pocket and pulled a small, wrapped chunk of opium gum out the other. “Brew this up in a tea. A pinch at a time.”

“Fer what?”

“Fer Teague. He’s going to be in a world of hurt the next few weeks or so. This’ll help the pain.”

“We ain’t taking him to the doctor?”

“Doctor’ll do as much.”

He took the opium from me. “Sumbitch steals two-dollar from me, and I’m paying three to cure his ailments. It ain’t right.”

I shrugged. “Give it to him. Don’t give it to him. I don’t give a care. Sell the gum, if’n you want. Make ten times what you paid for it.”

“Ten times?”

“There’s a den or two around here. They’ll pay good money for it.”

“Ten times?”

I turnt to walk away but stopped to say, “Remind me. What’d I say would happen to you if’n you don’t leave the preacher and the woman be.”

“You’d put my head on a pike or something or another. You’d kilt me dead is what it come down to.”

I give him a nod and started down the street.

He yelled after me. “Can’t believe you were Confed. We fought the same side, you and me.”

His claim rattled me, and I reached for my Gunnison but stopped short of freeing it from its holster. I turnt my cheek to him and said, “And we lost. I fight for my own side now. It’s in your best interest not find yourself against it because I’m done losing.”