Horrible Harvest

I don’t recall the this and that of the night. I et some of the beef stew. Not but a bite or two because I was stomach-popping full of Groundnut Cakes by the time a bowl was set in front of me. I picked at the stew while Miss Ginger laid down a pallet for me. I crawled into the bedding and didn’t even bother to carry the book down with me. I was a sleep ‘fore Miss Ginger give her first complaint that I didn’t eat hardly none of her stew.  

Next thing I knew, I was being shook awake. I squinted and rubbed my eyes trying to gather my bearings. I couldn’t figure where I was or who the Devil was rousing me out of my sleep.

Then I heard the low rumble of Daddy’s whispering voice. “Get up, Augustus. C’mon, boy.”

“What time is it?”

“Hell, I don’t know. It’s dark. Business is done running through here for the night, so it’s late. I can say that much.”

I stood with a wobble in my legs and watched as Daddy pulled his boots on.

“You take care of yours?”

“My what?”

“Business. With Miss Penelope.”

He just about smiled. “It’s took care of, alright.”

“Lady Faye around?”

“She ain’t, and I want it kept that way, so keep your voice down.” He stood all the way tall and the floor let out a creak, causing him to flinch. Careful-like, he stepped into the hallway and then motioned for me to join him. He stooped down and whispered. “Get on your toes and slink out the front door like a cat sneaking up on a mouse. I’ve got one thing left to be done before I go.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’ll meet up on the street. Keep your ears open.”

“Yes, sir,” I said a hair too loud.

He clapped his hand over my mouth and then raised his finger to his lips. “Quiet.”

I raised up on my toes and did as Daddy said. The parlor was empty, save a rotund man who was snoring the Devil away on a Chaise lounge. He put out a smell of pipe tobacco, liquor, and fish. It was strong enough for me to plug my nose and put a little quick in my steps.

On the street, I got hit by a breeze coming off the nearby bay. The sound of waves crashing up against the battery walls took hold of me. It felt as if the whole world entire was clapping for me, giving me a big ol’ welcome to stand under the night sky, created just for me.

Seconds passed on into minutes, and I was beginning to think Daddy was getting into more business.

When the front door come open with a whack, it startled the fire out of me. I half expected the hinges to give way.

Daddy jumped from the stoop to the ground and bolted toward the street. “Go, boy. Run. Get on.”

I took a few stumbling steps ass-backwards and watched as Lady Faye appeared at the door dressed in a silk, fanciful robe. “You rat bastard. Get back here with my money.” I seen her lift a rifle to her shoulder and take aim. “I’ma shoot you dead, ten-second Tennyson.”

I turnt and run with little care where I was going as long as it was the hell away from the gun. I heard an explosive click-pop and watched as Daddy grew distance from me. I seen he was hold tight onto a wad of banknotes in one hand.

“Damn you, Tennyson. I’ma sic hell on you.”

He turnt up the street and let out a “Whoop.”

I stopped and turnt back to Lady Faye’s house. She was standing on the street. Cussing up a storm as she paced in a small circle.

In the doorway stood Penelope. The heavy shadows hid her face, but I knew it was her. I raised my hand and give her a wave.

She waved back. “So long, little man.”

I smiled and strolled up the street after Daddy.

His pace had more panic than mine. I was hoping he’d get so much in a hurry that he’d just leave me behind altogether. I’d gladly just got back to Lady Faye’s and live the rest of my life entire in her kitchen.

Daddy looked over his shoulder and shouted, “On the quick, boy. Lady Faye will have her sheriff dog on us soon enough.”

I wanted to ask him why he’d robbed Lady Faye, but it was a dumb question. He done it ‘cause he’s Daddy. He didn’t need no other reason. I followed after him wishing all the wishes in the world that Lady Faye’d been a better shot.

We passed the church and the market and found our way to King Street. The town entire was dead. Not an inkling of life was to be found, save the rats and raccoons scavenging for good fortune.

When we reached the stables, Daddy grumbled at the presence of a padlock on the entrance. He searched the grounds around him until he found a sizeable rock. Picking it up, he held it and tested its heft by tossing it up less than an inch and catching it. Then, with haste, he slammed the rock into the padlock over and over again. It sounded like someone was firing shot after shot from a rifle. I stood back and expected to see people from the buildings around us hold their heads out their windows to see the cause of the commotion, but didn’t a curious eye nor ear appear.

My attention on the neighborhood, I took focus off the stables themselves. Neither me nor Daddy seen the stable manager skulk out of the dark from the corner of the building holding a pistol on Daddy.

“That’ll be enough of that, mister,” he said.

Daddy near jumped out his skin. He put a quick stop to pounding on the lock and raised his hands in the air. “Friend, you ain’t gonna believe the run of bad luck me and my boy have come across tonight.”

The stable manager peered at Daddy through the shade of night. “That you? Montrose’s Mexicany War cohort?”

“It is. It’s me and my boy. We’ve had a time since we left these premises.”

“Well, your day has turned into an overnight, and I can’t give you half day’s rate for that. No, sir.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to.”

“And you’re likely to owe me for a new lock.”

“Got something in my pocket to show you.”

The stable manager eyed Daddy with concern and kept the gun trained on him. “What-choo, got?”

“Let me dig in there, and I’ll show you.”

After a good stretch of time, the stable manager said, “Reach in slow. Keep the other hand up.”

“Yes, sir. I don’t blame you for being cautious, and I do offer a hearty apology for beatin’ on your lock, but I find myself searching for desperate measures after what me and my boy’ve been through. You remember my boy Augustus, don’t you?”

“I remember. Can’t say I recollect his name, but I remember you had your boy with you.”

“You give him a close look, and you’ll see a bruise or two on him. Drunkards got a hold of him while I was picking up miscellanies for the wife in the market.” Daddy’s hand reached into his pocket, and he slowly pulled out the money he’d stolen from Lady Faye. “I got money enough to pay the overnight fee and for the lock and for disturbing your sleep. I just wanna get my boy home to his momma.”

The stable manager looked slack-jawed at the wad of banknotes. His posture calmed ever-so slightly. He took a moment to give my face a looking over for the bruises Daddy had promised were there. The gun relaxed in his hand but a wee-bit, but it was enough for Daddy to make his move. He rushed the stable manager and slammed the rock to the side of his head.

I heard a crack and watched as the fella fell in a heap. I told myself that he weren’t dead, but he was. He had the same dead-eyed stare that the Barker woman had.

Daddy tossed the rock aside, picked up the man’s pistol and shoved it down the back of his trousers. He searched the man for a key to the padlock, which he found hanging from his neck on a leather strap. Daddy made no effort to remove it gentle. He yanked, and the strap let out a pop as it broke free from the poor fella.

He tossed me the key. “Open the door and get the bay rigged.” He stood and headed in the direction the stable manager had first appeared.

“Where you going?”

“He’s got no use for the fees he’s collected today. They’s in his room somewheres. I’ma give them a good home.” He marched away with the wicked smile he’d come to wear since going extra mad with illicit manners.

I stood looking at the stable manager, only he weren’t the stable manager no more. He’d left that life. He’d left life entire. I couldn’t figure what he was now. He wasn’t that nice fella who’d given a stranger and his boy a deal on boarding fees. He wasn’t nothing at all. Thanks to Daddy. He was just a thing. As much a thing as the rock that Daddy cracked against his skull. He wasn’t a fella no more. He was a used to be. He used to be a stable manager. He used to be a nice fella. He used to be someone’s boy. He used to be all the things he was in this world. I didn’t know what to do with that. I was sad for him, and I was scared for him ‘cause I didn’t know what sort of things you come across when you’re a used to be.

I turnt and put the key in the padlock.