Becoming Americans (58 page)

      Joseph Williams had organized operations at Deep Creek. Separate work crews attended to the house or to the mill. Everyone had worked together to clear the debris of the fire. The only thing that remained was the chimney, and many of its bricks had crumbled.

      Dick Harbut was in charge of constructing the mill, following Joseph and Richard's specifications. James and the four workers from the swamp labored on this, the more important of the projects. Grandpa Bourne, Stephen, and Willy worked with Thomas Biggs on the house. They were allowed framing timbers, but no additional workers.

      Grandpa Bourne had returned from the swamp in fine mettle, insistent on turning over a hidden reserve of notes and coins he'd earned in many dealings as agent for swamp labor. The family was astounded at the cache, and Grandma Bourne had begun a series of accusations and harangues. Within weeks, Stephen grandfather was returned to what he'd been before their trip into the swamp. He wasn't master of himself in civilization, Stephen saw. It frightened him and he only felt sorry for his grandfather, again.

      Grandma and Sister Mary were making soap and candles. They had always worked together. With supervision, Sister Mary was a good worker. Her soap always "made."

      "Nobody makes better soap than Sister Mary does," her Grandma Bourne always said. The girl would beam when she heard it, and ask her to repeat it.

      "Who makes the best soap, Grandma?"

      Now they were making soap and candles for sale to neighbors who were looking for a way to help when they paddled their pirogues up the creek to watch progress on the mill. Stephen watched the odd pair at work and wondered if his grandmother spent so much time with his sister out of shame for what she'd done.

      When Grandpa Bourne offered to pay for the house their father had refused, at first, James reported to Stephen. But when Grandpa Bourne had insisted, saying that he wanted to build a house which neighbors in Norfolk County would be envious of, their father changed his mind. The house would have two stories and a gambrel roof, the new Dutch style hip-roof that he liked

      That was the beginning to Grandma Bourne's tirades, James said. She had exploded; worse than she'd ever done before.

      "What is a gambrel roof? How do you know what a gambrel roof is and I don't? Since when have you been looking at roofs?"

      "I've always looked at roofs," Grandpa had said.

      After three weeks of their mother's nagging, their father agreed to allow volunteers to work on the house and to let Harbut spend some time on the house at the later stages. The finishing that required a carpenter could wait. Everyone knew something about building a house. Tom Biggs had raised three.

      Stephen was pleased. He wasn't interested in the mill and he desperately didn't want to work under his father. Grandpa Bourne and he had already learned how to work together in the swamp. He got along well with his Uncle Thomas, and Willy was envious and eager. Stephen was sorry not to be working with James. James was better with tools than he, and James often helped him when they worked together.

      Stephen noticed other differences from his brother, now that they'd spent time apart. James bragged about the excursion that he'd taken while his brother was away. He'd gone into Norfolk Town, ridden in a carriage with young Mister Boush, and gone to the tavern that that young man frequented. He'd listened to other young fops telling stories of their trips to London. They'd talked of girls, wine, and the theater. There were coffee shops on every street, they'd said. James's dream was to go to London. Stephen didn't share that dream. His thoughts went back to Carolina.

      At night the men talked about their work, and that was another relief to Stephen. He didn't have to spend time with his father and he didn't have to hear about the mill. He didn't want to know anything about it. His uncle seemed tired of it, too. In his second week back, Stephen heard loud words being exchanged between his father and his Uncle Richard. It was over immediately, and his Uncle Thomas Biggs made the boys go back to work chipping at mortise joints in the sills.

      On a Friday afternoon in early July, his Uncle Richard called Stephen to the edge of the old orchard.

      "I'm going into Norfolk Town to search-out word on ship arrivals. Want to row along with me?" he asked Stephen.

      Stephen's wanted to go, but wondered why his uncle had such a strange smile on his face.

      "I think, maybe, it's time you had a woman," his uncle whispered.

      Stephen stopped breathing.

      James and his father walked to the landing as the boat returned the next morning. James caught the line his uncle threw while his father turned back and went to the hut that the family was staying in. Two other huts housed the Bournes with the Harbuts, and Richard with the workers.

      Richard and Stephen had stopped singing when they saw Joseph waiting. James gave them a hand and they stepped from the boat, but Stephen stumbled and fell, anyway. Richard helped him up and whispered to his nephew to be quiet, that the family was still asleep.

      "Pa says you're not to work on the house today. He said tell you to dress those four timbers he'd laid out for me to work on. He says you're to dress those logs before you get any sleep."

      "Dress those four logs! I'll be up till tomorrow morning. My arms will fall off!" Stephen giggled and slipped to the ground.

      James helped him up again.

      "You smell like cheap liquor and cheap whores," he said.

      "I do," Stephen admitted. "Yes, I do."

      Stephen leaned against a tree and took off his shirt. He threw it into the water, then took off his shoes and hose. He turned around and jumped into the creek. He ducked his head, washing his hair and face, trying to rid himself of the smell. The exuberance of the wine and whore were wearing off. His head was splitting, his stomach churned, and his nose was still full of the smell of stale piss and sweat. He'd never forget the girl. She was about his age but she was nearly toothless and she was filthy. He remembered his uncle laughing at his blush when the girl slipped a grimy hand inside Stephen's pants. Even as he tried to wash the filth away he felt himself stir again with memory of the thrill.

      On Sunday morning, Stephen was shaken awake by his mother. He'd only slept a few hours, having been at his punishment dressing timbers until nearly midnight, aided by a bright moon and two torches. He tried to hold onto his dream of Nancy Manning, but his mother's voice chased it away.

      "Get up, boy. You've need of church today. Get up!"

      His mother knew about the girl! He opened his eyes.

      "Big enough to go whoring, are you? God saw you with the wench. God saw you! And now you're dreaming about her, are you?" She glanced down at the rise in his bedclothes, then coldly into his eyes.

      "You risk eternal hellfire for that? Get up from there!"

      Stephen was shaken. How did she know? What would he say? The rise in his bedclothes had fallen and he got up from his bed of straw and ran to throw water on his face.

      Mary Bourne had not been raised in the Church, but she took to it with fervor when she married Joseph Williams. That was one thing about his wife that her husband appreciated. The county knew her as a pious woman and that helped his stature in the community. She'd even approved when he'd paid to have their last minister give him and James reading lessons. They'd be able to read the Bible to her, she said. But very little had come of the lessons, and they had ended when the minister left the parish, soon thereafter.

      "He still can't plead 'rite of clergy' for his crimes," Mary would tease him in front of friends.

      From their mother, the boys had learned to have great fear of God. Their father taught respect for the Church.

      James was curious and he was angry that it had not been he who'd been first with a woman.

      "Weren't you ashamed? God knew what you were doing. Ugly hags. I've seen the whores about the docks. I'm sure she was an ugly hag."

      "She was beautiful, James. And she knew what she was doing. Taught me a lot."

      "What could she teach you that you'd need to know with a Christian girl? A decent girl would be disgusted," James said. "The girls at church will be disgusted when they hear of it."

      "How will they hear of it? Will you tell?" Stephen asked.

      "They'll learn the same way Mother did. Mistress Manning saw you and Uncle Richard as you entered the whore house. She was in Norfolk Town to see her sister. Did you think no one would see you, fool? Did you touch her breasts?"

      "I kissed them," Stephen said.

      "Jesus," James whispered, then, "Dammit!"

      Outside the church, Joseph and Mary Williams circulated among their friends before going in. James and Stephen were surrounded by militia friends who revealed their knowledge with winks and nudges and raised eyebrows. The unknowing girls had smiled and flirted with him as usual until others came to them and whispered in their ears. Some seemed stricken and looked at him with grief. Some turned their heads away in disgust. Some gasped, but then stole glances from behind their fans. He didn't see Nancy Manning until they were inside.

      In church, the Williams family sat towards the rear, behind the boxes and pews of wealthy parishioners. The Manning family sat across the isle, Mistress Manning staring straight ahead. Nancy Manning sat beside her mother, still refusing to acknowledge Stephen's pleading eyes.

      The warden read the scripture and spoke to the congregation about the search for a new minister. Money was needed for inducements. For two years they'd been searching, he said, as the morals of the parish had collapsed. Stephen was certain that the warden had looked at him as he said that. From the corner of his eye he saw his parents, both, turn red.

      After the service, Stephen and James were left alone. Their friends had been herded away by their parents, and the two boys created a pathway when they walked through the crowd.

      As they sailed back to Deep Creek, the family was hushed, waiting for some direction from Joseph or Mary. Daniel Bourne and Richard Williams, alone, seemed not to notice the atmosphere of tension. They sat in the bow telling each other stories and laughing loudly. Grandma Bourne made soft grunts of displeasure every time Grandpa Bourne laughed. Stephen sat in solitude as James worked the sail for his father. Mary Bourne stared into space. She was as embarrassed as she was angry, and would not speak of the matter publicly with her brother-in-law. Joseph knew that she was dangerously angry.

      At home she was not so reticent.

      Mary Williams didn't raise her voice, but fury came from her throat through clinched teeth, like a growl. Stephen and James were outside the hut, but could hear her talking to their father.

      "None of your brothers have been worth their salt!" she said. "John was nothing but talk. Edward was an invalid who became a fool. And Richard is a black cloud who brings trouble! Everywhere he's been there's been trouble. He's a curse! Machapungo. Ann's baby. The fire. And now, Stephen. He's corrupted my son!"

      "You'll not speak of my brothers, woman! They have all treated you as a sister. Richard is here to help us—he has helped us. His miseries in Carolina were no fault of his own, nor were our tragedies. With Stephen…. I'll not defend what he's done but to say it's not uncommon for an uncle to help initiate his nephew into such mysteries. I will speak to him, but it is not the place of a wife…."

      "It is the place of a mother to protect the soul of her child."

      "He is not a child, Mary. He enrolls in the militia this summer. He will be a tithable. You don't want your baby to be a man, but he is. He's been moping around here for months, acting surly. Maybe now that he's experienced manly pleasures he'll act as a man."

      "Those pleasures are reserved for the married state!" Her voice rose.

      "You want him married at his age? I think you do not! If I'd had an uncle to sponsor me at his age, I'd not have jumped into the marriage bed so quickly!"

      James and Stephen heard something fly into the dried branches of their hut's walls. They hurried away as their father stepped outside.

      James hurried back to his work site, but Stephen waited and then went into the hut. His mother was spreading fresh straw in the corner sleeping space he shared with his brother. She stopped crying when she saw him, but said nothing.

      "I know I've disappointed you, Mother. I wasn't thinking…."

      "No, you were not thinking. You have sinned! In my mind I see you roasting in the fires of hell and I can not help. You are becoming a man and I can't protect you from the evil temptations that face a man."

      Her crying resumed and Stephen went over and put his arms around her, towering above the tiny, graying woman. Her fears infected him, and his thoughts went to the picture she'd painted. God would punish him for his act of sin and for the hurt he'd inflicted on his mother.

      "Pray for me, Mother, to be stronger."

      Mary sank to her knees on the straw pallet and pulled her son down with her. She prayed for Stephen, and the vision of his tortured soul in hell banished the exciting memories of his night of revelation.

      A fortnight after the trip to Norfolk Town, word came to the Williams men that the
John
was anchored at the mouth of Deep Creek. Work stopped and cheers went up from the mill and from the house. Joseph and Richard drank a toast in celebration, and hurriedly paddled downstream to the waiting ship. They called up to the deck, announcing themselves, then climbed the rope ladder that was lowered.