Ford At Valverde

The unlucky squatter that tied up the limbs must have had sticks for brains, Daniel thought to himself, as he watched the water lap up over the sides like it might be swallowed up at any given moment. He had seen logs that floated better than this raft, and if he happened upon something more sturdy he would latch onto the opportunity. The night had been a laborious wonder of pooling it around with the ten foot pole as it scudded against the banks and limbs of the brackish water. None of them had slept, but had spent the time listening to the sounds that moved through the river, and the shadows that swelled long and blinked their eyes before lurking below its depths.

  There were Cypress trees with trunks so broad and covered in Spanish moss that they looked like skeleton mounds that were stretched tall and anguished, mirroring the surface in a ghostly manner with inhabitants that groaned, “duck, duck.., duck, duck.”

  Emmett said they were only green tree frogs, but their warning was heeded as they kept low against the knotted pines and spoke only in whispers. However, as quiet as they could be, the water was calmer still and anything of ill effect would be heard. They had traveled for miles, and the only glow they had seen was from the moon that lit the water in the wider places. Nary a shot was heard, but there was some distant sound of drumming and an occasional explosion that made a thunderous applause. Then it faded more with every turn of the bend that pushed them further on.

  Annabelle wished for a time when she could have made a better way of travel for them, and she worried that food would be a problem before they ever made it into Texas. So far no one had complained, but had nervous stomachs that would wait until the need for such became unbearable.

  With the sun now brightening up the canopy above them, the mist was all but a vapor, and seemed as mystical as the birds that breeched the waters surface and then dissolved into the air. Cranes swooped low and plunged their beaks, bringing up crawfish and bluegills, and even they were being watched by the dark green lumps that pegged beneath the muddied swells.

  Other streams converged into the whole, almost as much as the veins on a leaf, and because of it the air smelled fresh, like after a heavy rain. But now that all could be seen, there were mostly smiles of uncertainty passed between them. It was like they were all trying to feel some sort of contentment, when there was nothing positive to set their minds on with the brooding mood that lingered.

  Emmett had stared at Daniel intensely for the past hour, trying to discern whether or not he was still his friend. He knew he had saved his life, but he had also never seen a man killed before, and now there were two. It had happened so fast that he wondered what more he might be capable of. After all, they had only known him for a few short days, which seemed to be growing longer with each breath. He had also witnessed the closeness between Daniel and his mother that was expressed at the house, but now seemed to gape the width of the river, lingering quiet and full of internal turmoil.

  Annabelle patted him on the hand, knowing that he must be confused, and wanted to give him answers when there were none. She didn’t know why she had taken to him so soon, other than there was some peculiarity about the two of them together that seemed to fit. She hadn’t known when it would pass her way again. Desire had been a foreigner and she had never known what it felt like, to want someone like that, or to be so consumed by the beat of another's pulse to where it seemed to beat within her as well. Still, it didn’t make sense to take that kind of risk, but it also didn’t reason that she wanted him more now than before.

  Daniel felt the eyes that penetrated him through, as he too was looking for answers. There didn’t seem another route available at the present, and he hadn’t noticed a boat or a homestead that would lend something better.

  Annabelle wanted to put them all at ease, to make them feel this way of traveling wasn’t without its rewards. So she began telling them about the alligator gar, buffalo fish and catfish that appeared beneath them, and how sweet the wild azaleas would smell if it were spring. Then ribs of water began seeping up through the cracks so that the vines of the raft were starting to loosen, causing one side to dip more than the other.

  “Are we too much weight?” she asked.

  Daniel took the pillowcase by the strap of belt that kept it tight on top, and pushed it more towards Emmett on the left. It leveled it out enough so that the water didn’t lap as much. They were all partially wet, and it was cold out, but none were complaining. So Annabelle stayed as close to Emmett as possible, without causing any additional tilt, while Daniel kept to the forefront, stroking them along a gliding path.

  “If we do hit something solid, this thing will buckle,” Daniel turned to her as though asking her opinion of what to do before it happened.

  “Won’t be long before we’re spotted. There’s another city not too far from here and the river will be busy,” she said. “We have to get off before we get too close.”

  Just then, Emmett saw a string line that trailed from the side of the bank into the water. There were soggy holes where someone’s foot had anchored against the soil, but bare where the toe prints were mashed into an impression before it turned to sawgrass. He stared at the hedge of bushy palms and tree trunks, and saw a dark figure squeezed between the hull of two trees. As the raft neared the turn, it angled so that he could see a negro boy his own age, and the boy saw him.

  “Sam si,” he called out, loud enough for him to hear.

  Annabelle hushed him to silence, until she saw the boy emerge from the cradle of trees. His pants were torn around the bottom like they had been sliced by walking through patches of thorns, and he wore a coat, brown and dirty with a patched quilt lining.

  “Are you sure about this?” Daniel questioned and Annabelle nodded in agreement.

  So Daniel swayed the raft to the edge of the bank.

  “How’s your Mama doing, Sams si?” asked Annabelle as though she knew them well.

  “Ain’t much she can do,” the boy grinned through broken teeth. “Ain’t got no money. Not for a train or nothin’.”

  “How about your Paw?” she asked.

  “He done went to fight,” he replied. “Says we won’t have no freedom lest he done fight, so that where he be.”

  Emmett was glad to see him, as the boy tugged at the line in the water and brought up a nesting of crawfish. There were about thirteen in all.

  “Good catch,” replied Emmett.

  “Sure nuff,” he said and then asked, “What ya’ll do on the water?”

  “Never mind you that,” said Annabelle, “just be sure not to tell anybody you saw us.” She loosened the clasp of the belt on the pillowcase and wriggled the leather pouch from within it. Then she dug her fingers inside, and pulled out a ruby necklace with a pendant encircled with pearls and tossed it to him.

  “Take it Sam si, and give it your Mama. She’ll know what to do,” she said.

  At that the boys eyes got big, and he was tickled with delight to have been receiving as much.

  “I do that,” he replied. “Be careful now. These is streams of mire. Mama says, makes the feelin’ go away once the blood gets cold, but makes ‘un gator bait jus’ the same.”

  Daniel grinned as he looked at Annabelle and shoved the pole into the bottom of the stream once more to get them underway again.

  “Maybe we’ll meet up again some day,” waved Emmett with a smile.

  “Maybe,” shied the boy as he clamored up the hill with the netting in tow, “buts maybe not,” he waved goodbye.

  When they were a good ways in the distance, Annabelle told Daniel about the negro family and how they had been slaves of their farm, and that they had lived in the small house behind the barn, but she had treated them like family. Only she had warned them to leave once the war started and said that every man deserved a fighting chance.

  Later on, they were in a marshy area, where algae formed a green skim across the water and cattails spiked up between the lily pads. There were lone trees that stood like barriers between th
e open spaces and willows that wept out over the water like stems beaded with rain drops. Annabelle was telling Daniel how they made jelly from the Mayhaws, and he commented about their striking trunks and peeling bark. Then there was the sound of a faint moan, and a man wailing from a ridge atop a grassy hill.

  Emmett said, “Let’s go back. I don’t think we’re going the right way anyway.”

  Daniel turned to Annabelle, “It’s boggy swamp now. Are you sure this is it?”

  Annabelle shook her head in disbelief at the deep voice crying out. Just in the narrowness of their vision was a clearing, a grove of pecan trees and beyond that a white plantation house. The negro man’s hands were tied above his head where his palms met and were wrapped onto the limb of one of the trees. There was an older man, overweight with a tall black hat and a long tailed coat, sporting a whip that struck the negroes back again and again.

  “Want me to do something about it?” asked Daniel, as he felt Emmett’s piercing stare.

  “No,” replied Annabelle, “we’re in enough trouble as it is. Could be that he’s getting off easy, not that I’ve ever taken a notion to such. Be best if we turn around though, because I do believe we’re lost.”

  “Hold up,” he said as he tried to edge towards the side of the bank. “Maybe I can do him some good,” he motioned for her to remain silent, as he reached for the gun.

  Then he tried to maneuver the raft, but they spun around several times before realizing that the movement was causing too much of a rippling affect across the water. Some egrets took flight and disappeared into the fog of steamy smoke stacks that flumed above the trees, just beyond a bridge that coved across the water. It was formed of red bricks and block pylons for support, and built wide for passage.

  Suddenly there was a wail with a screech from the man with the whip in the distance, and then there was the sound of running through the leaves and wooded hillside, until the negro’s bare feet met the stream. His pants were shredded along the bottom, and his dirty tinged shirt was ripped and bloodied from the punishment. Once he was in the water, he stopped momentarily and heaved in their direction.

  Daniel gave him a nod that he should keep going about his business and Annabelle yelped, “Run!”

  At that the man continued across the river, swimming where it was necessary, until he met the other side of the bank. From there he continued on, sighing as he went.

  “Might be a good time to get off,” said Daniel, as he jumped down in waist high water and pulled them into the reeds. It made a good camouflage with the exception of the indentation of grass.

  “I think we should go alone,” said Annabelle of herself and Emmett, as she pulled her skirts up to her waist and stepped onto the bank.

  Daniel thought about it and removed his eyeglasses to wipe them on his shirt. The palms of his hands were blistered and smudged with gritty dirt that was caked under his fingernails. He was tired and it showed.

  “I can’t stay with the raft,” he said. “I’d be a sitting decoy.”

  “What about the bridge?” suggested Emmett. “You could hide out beneath it until we get back. Besides that, nobody talks like you around here.”

  “He’s right,” Annabelle agreed. “If we can get a hitch, we’ll stop on the bridge and you can climb in the back. It would be better if I took it from here.”

  “Okay then, but try to be quick without being obvious. We don’t know how fast word carries,” he grabbed the pillowcase and unlatched the belt.

  Annabelle took the leather pouch, along with the tin of dollars and tied on an apron, shoving them both into the pocket.

  “I don’t know this town,” she said, “but I do know that we’ll make it opposite this river and leave the rest behind us.”

  Daniel nodded and looked at them both squarely, as his eyes told them all would be well. “I believe in you Emmett,” he smiled “and I believe in your Mama too. Just do as she says now.”

  “Always do,” he replied, glad to be off the raft and hoping to get some food.

  Annabelle kissed her fingers and then placed them on Daniel’s cheek. “We won’t be long,” she assured him. They walked up the bank and through the woods.

  There was a small white house that sat on cylinder blocks. The yard was a hodgepodge of thinned out grass where the chickens and goats had turned it up, along with a mule that was tied to a lead on a roundabout wagon wheel. It kicked when the chickens pranced beneath its feet, as if in frustration. As Annabelle and Emmett attempted the lawn, she knew how it felt as the chickens ran towards them.

  “I don’t have anything for you,” she said softly as though it might cause them to scatter, but they continued to strut about them with some noise, as if they had gone many days without being fed.

  “Skinny for chickens, aren’t they?” he asked.

  “So are the goats and the mule,” she replied as the back door swung open and three kids ran out, two of which were girls.

  “Who are you?” the oldest one asked as though company had come calling.

  “Just act like family,” whispered Annabelle to Emmett, as she rolled her shoulders back, “and don’t tell ‘em your real name.”

  Then a woman with stringy black hair and holding an infant on her hip, stood in the doorway and wondered at the guests.

  “We’re from a small community down the river a ways, and are in need of some livestock,” she said. “Would you be so kind as to spare us a few? We’ll pay you more than what they’re worth,” she smiled, hoping for some compassion in return.

  The woman’s blouse was covered in spital and the baby started crying and tugging at her hair, as it bounced on her hip. “They’re a bit slight for eating, but come on in and we’ll talk about it. Just let me put this baby down first.”

  Annabelle nodded and bent down to tie the loose strings on Emmett’s boots, reminding him to stay outside with the kids, while she bargained with the woman. When she got back up, her leather pouch was laying on the ground and she was already up the steps and entering the house. One of the girls, with ash-blonde hair and taller than Emmett by a couple of inches, picked up the pouch and handed it to him.

  “You dropped this,” she said and offered it back. “What is it, marbles?”

  “Nope,” said Emmett. “It’s treasure. Stole it off a band of pirates.”

  The two girls giggled, while the boy, still a toddler looked up at the new friend.

  “What’s your name?” the oldest girl asked.

  “Jack,” lied Emmett. “Say,” he pondered, “do you have any marbles?”

  “I’ve got more than that,” smiled the girl, “come on inside the shed and I’ll show you my stash.” Then she held her finger to her mouth, “But you better keep quiet about it, it’s a secret.”

  “Okay,” replied Emmett as he shrugged his shoulders, and they all ran to the small two room stall that was constructed of weathered boards with knot holes in it.

  There was hay stacked up where the red mare couldn’t get to it, and a wooden crate with an open panel beneath. The girl slid the panel open and took out a metal pail, where inside was a ribbon tied around an assortment of colored candy sticks, a mismatched deck of playing cards, some jacks, a book with drawings of naked women, and a small nap sack of glass marbles. Emmett was allowed to hold each of them in his hands and was most interested in the jacks.

  “How’d you get all of these?” he asked as though she must be the luckiest kid alive.

  “I’m a gypsy,” she replied, “and a magician gave them to me as gifts for a kiss.”

  The younger sister snickered and the toddler boy just wanted one of the candy sticks.

  “What would you trade me in exchange?” she questioned with a grin and batted her eyes.

  Emmett’s face turned several shades of red as he reached inside his pocket and took out the leather pouch. He held it up to the light and peeked inside, before pulling out a diamond ring. It had seven stones in all with a white
gold band that matched. He allowed her to put it on.

  “Are they real?” she asked as they sparkled in the sunlight, with her thumb pressed beneath her knuckle. And when she released it, the ring swung loose around her finger, but she didn’t care. It seemed a marriage of sorts.

  “I’ll tell you what,” she eyed him as though ready to deal. “You give me this ring, and you can pick any three of these on one condition.”

  Emmett was all ears. “Uh, what’s the condition?”

  “You have to seal it with a kiss.”

  The smaller girl went running to the house as though to tattle, and the little boy followed.

  “Okay,” he said, “but we’d better hurry.”

  Within the hour the deal had been sealed, and added to it was a red quarter-horse mare, a brown mule with a white streak down its nose, a wagon with a sack of flour and two empty barrels, along with a small wooden cage of chickens.

  Daniel had been waiting under the bridge for what seemed like an eternity, sitting on the musty pylons and swatting away the gnats that swarmed about his face. There had already been a couple of carriages that had passed overhead, but neither had stopped. He was beginning to worry whether or not they had decided to go on without him when another one approached. The planks shifted with the weight as the plodding echoed from below, shaking the dirt from the crevices and into his hair. He looked up and waited, until it stopped.

  Emmett jumped down from the wagon and looked over the side, with his hair dangling down in ringlets like a puppet.

  “Come on,” he urged as though he was now in charge. “Time’s a wastin.”

  Daniel grabbed the pillowcase and hoisted it atop the bridge, as he climbed onto it from the bank. Annabelle looked back at him and smiled, proud of herself, and gave him a wink.

  Quickly, he climbed into the back and opened the pillowcase, pulled out a blanket and then covered himself with it. Finally he thought, concealed by the darkness that he might be able to get some sleep.

  As Annabelle lapped at the reins the horse and the mule rode on, heading west and to parts unknown. Emmett reached into his bulging pocket and pulled out the candy sticks, tied with the ribbon. He started licking one and twisting it between his lips like he had never had such before.

  “Where’d you get that?” he heard Daniel ask from beneath the blanket, and his mother wondered it as well.

  “Don’t worry,” Emmett tucked one behind him and slid it into Daniel’s hand. “I got one for you, too.”

  Annabelle laughed for the first time in days. “I do hope you gave her something for that in return,” she teased.

  “Oh, I did Mama,” and he broke off a piece of the candy cane and put it to her mouth.

  a pair of ostriches