East of Orleans (18 page)

Isabella thought of Tom, wondering where and how he was. She was almost beginning to cry when Jesse entered the room with a plate of fried fish, sweet potatoes and cornbread. Isabella breathed deep; the food smelled good. Suddenly she was hungry. It was the first time that she felt hungry since she had the baby.

“Livie tried to pull little Henry from the coffin on the day he was buried,” said Isabella. She was silent for a moment as she stared out the window across the river. She then turned and looked at Jesse. “Were you with me the whole time?”

Jesse smiled and nodded slightly.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“There ain’t nothing for you to thank. Besides, there ain’t nowhere else that I wanted to be and I promised Granny.” Jesse took notice of Isabella’s hollow face and protruding bones.

“I got another letter from Mama today,” Isabella said. “They’re out of money and Mr. Hartwell is clear about his intentions. He’s gonna do it this time. I’m surprised he’s waited as long as he has.” Isabella stared at Jesse and then turned as tears formed in her eyes. “I have to find a way to get out of this mess.” The two of them looked at each other.

“What you gonna do?” asked Jesse.

“I don’t know,” Isabella replied.

“If you’d let me send for Tom, he would come and take you away from here. Why don’t you let me?” Jesse asked.

“I guess I’m afraid.”

Jesse shook his head, got up and walked over to the shuttered window. “You can take the baby and go back home.”

“No, no, I can’t. There ain’t nothing for me to go back to.”

“There’s Tom.”

Isabella sighed an exasperated sigh. “Tom--and what? Jesse, don’t you understand? My mama and granny are about to be thrown off their land. I can’t be worried about myself and Tom. I’ve got to try and help them. I’ve got to save their house. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand, but there ain’t nothing that can be done about it. We tried planting the cotton.”

Isabella narrowed her eyes. “Cotton? I can’t wait on cotton, I need money now.”

Jesse nodded sadly.

“It has to come. I know it ain’t right for me to feel this way but, Jesse, I swear on my daddy’s grave, I’d sell my soul to the
devil
if that’s what it took to pay off that mortgage. I just hope that by the time I find him, it ain’t too late.”

Left alone, Tom paced nervously across the bank floor while he waited to see Rollins Hartwell. Tom’s life had changed after Isabella left Shakerag. He did not speak of her, or ask about her… it was as if she was dead, but he could not stop thinking about her.

Tom looked up and saw Catherine staring at him.

“Smile, you look so sad. It can’t be that bad,” said Catherine.

Tom smiled at her.

“Maybe I can help you. Who are you waiting on?”

“Mr. Hartwell.”

Catherine placed her thin arm on Tom’s shoulder and thought for a moment. “I believe I know you.” Her eyes examined his. “Wait, don’t tell me, Tom Slaughter?”

Rollins Hartwell walked out into the lobby and looked around for his customer. His eyes shifted to his daughter and the young man that she was talking to. Rollins walked up to Tom, slapped him across the back, grinned and said, “Son, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. There never seems to be enough hours in a day, especially Wednesdays.” As Catherine hugged her father, he noticed the excited look on her face.

“What brought you by the bank, sweetheart?” asked Rollins. Catherine’s eyes began to twinkle. “Not a thing except for wanting to see my daddy.” She smiled and peeked around at Tom. Rollins glanced at Tom with solemn eyes and then gestured for a Negro man to enter the bank.

“How ya doin’ Mister Rollins? Miss Catherine, is youse ready to go?”

Catherine nodded. “In a minute.” She went up to Tom. “Tom Slaughter, my, my, I don’t think I would have known you. Are you living here now?”

“No, I’m living in
Atlanta
. Got me a job running the presses at the newspaper and going to school.”

“What are you going to school to be?” asked Catherine.

“I want to be a writer. I’m studying journalism.”

“I think that’s just wonderful.” She glanced at her daddy and smiled. “That’s wonderful, isn’t it, daddy?” Rollins replied with a nod. Catherine turned to Tom again, “It was nice seeing you, Tom.”

Tom hesitated. “You too, Catherine.” He watched her for a moment as she left the bank with the Hartwell’s Negro driver.

Rollins Hartwell gestured for Tom to come into his office. Tom pulled up a chair across from Hartwell’s massive desk. He straightened his back and said, “Mr. Hartwell, I’ll be brief. I know you’re a busy man.”

Rollins Hartwell nodded.

“I understand you’ve ordered Miles McCoy’s wife and mother off of their land.” Rollins Hartwell’s face turned red with irritation. He took a deep breath and exhaled, his eyes met Tom’s. “I have not ordered anyone off any place. The bank has no choice. Do you have any idea how long I’ve kept this thing draggin’ on? Don’t you think I hate this as much as anybody? Hell, Miles McCoy was a friend. I feel just awful, but there ain’t nothing left to do.”

“I’m prepared to offer you payment.”

“Suppose you tell me why you want to involve yourself in this?”

There was silence for a moment. Tom looked up and said, “Miles McCoy is dead and there is nobody to help care for those two women.”

“And the girl? There’s been rumors. Do you know where she ran off to?”

Tom ignored the question. He stood up, pulled a roll of money out of his trouser pocket, and laid it down on Rollins Hartwell’s desk. “I’ve got five hundred dollars that I’ve saved up. Will that hold the bank off for a while?”

Rollins glanced at the money. “I suppose that would help quite a bit.” A minute later Rollins had scribbled out a receipt and handed it to Tom. “Is there anything else?”

“Nothing else. Except I don’t want Mrs. McCoy and her mother-in- law bothered anymore.” Tom turned to go out the door.

Rollins cleared his throat. “Hold on, son. You never did answer me about what you think happened to the girl--what’s her name, Isabella?”

Tom’s face grew warm. He turned and gave Rollins a cold stare. “No, but I intend to do everything I can to find out. And yes, her name is Isabella.”

Rollins Hartwell stood up and watched Tom Slaughter walk out of his bank.

Lila McCoy put down a ledger book. The evening sun had slipped behind the clouds and all that was left was a cold dark sky. Granny took the book from Lila. From the front porch of their cabin, they could see sprinkled lights of fire traveling across the valley and the white tops of the tombstones around the church below. Both women got up and went inside. Tick followed them to the door and then turned around and plopped down outside the door. Lila bowed her head and said, “I pray to the Lord somehow we will find a way to keep this place.”

“We ain’t giving up,” Granny said. “We’re gonna get this note paid and then bring Isabella and her young-un back home where they belong.”

A pot of speckled butter beans was boiling on the stove. The hog had been sold and there was not much left for the two women to eat. Granny heard a noise on the front porch and she bolted from her rocker and went to get her shotgun. The old woman opened the door holding the rifle in front of her. Tom Slaughter jumped back.

“Granny! For Pete’s sake, what are you doing pointing that shotgun in my face?”

“Oh, Tom, I’m sorry! But if you’d been a robber, I’d of done filled your britches full of buckshot.” Tom grinned. “Folks got to protect themselves.”

“I reckon, but there ain’t no point in killing if you don’t need to,” Tom said. “Ain’t that right, Lila?” Lila forced a smile. “Stay seated. Don’t get up, I can pull a chair from the kitchen.” Tom lifted a chair from the kitchen, brought it into the main room, and sat down. “How you two ladies doin’?” Lila raised her eyebrows. “You doin’ okay? You got plenty to eat?”

Lila glanced at Granny apprehensively and said, “No, we ain’t doin’ okay. Rollins Hartwell has run out of giving us any more extensions. We done sold the hog and all the soup and vegetables we put up last fall, is just about gone.” Lila tightened the shawl around her shoulders. Tom took Lila’s hand and stroked it.

“I came here to tell you something.”

“About Isabella?” cried Granny.

Tom sighed and leaned up against the back of the chair. “You know, she left without a word to me.” The two women glanced at each other. “I know you two know where she went. I’m going to find out the truth, but that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?” asked Lila.

Tom pulled a piece of paper out from his trouser pocket and unfolded it. He looked at both women. “I was at the bank today and met with Rollins Hartwell.”

Granny’s eyes flashed. “No good land-robbing buzzard. He’s meaner than a black snake.” Tom chuckled and rubbed his temples.

“That, Granny, he is.”

Granny’s eyes focused on Tom. “Well? Is the old buzzard foreclosing on your pa’s place, too?”

“No, Granny he ain’t.”

“What’s on that paper you got there?” Lila asked. Tom smiled.

“I’ve been working extra hours at the newspaper and I’ve been able to save a little money.” Lila looked at Tom with a wide-eyed expression. “I arranged to catch up the note on the farm. In fact, you are now a couple of payments ahead.” Granny’s eyes searched Tom’s face. The old woman’s mouth quivered and she smiled a grateful smile.

Tears streamed down Lila’s face as she whispered, “Thank you, son.”

Granny’s eyes narrowed. “You get a receipt from that thieving buzzard?”

Tom laughed. “I did, Granny. I made you and Lila a copy, but if it’s okay with the two of you, I am going to keep the original just in case you misplace your copy. How’s Livie and Henry?”

“They ain’t doin’ too good,” Granny said. “Seems every young-un in this valley has come down with the fever since little Henry died. I just hope that baby of Isa…” Lila shot Granny a hard look. The two women had confirmed Tom’s suspicions; his heart stopped. Granny took Tom’s arm and said, “Thank you again, son. Somehow we’ll repay you.”

Memories of that day at the river flooded Tom’s mind. He felt Granny tug at his shirt sleeve. The old woman wrapped her bony arms around Tom and hugged him. “We love you, Tom.”

“I love y’all, too. Don’t worry about paying this money back. I won’t have it.” He pulled some dollar bills from his pocket. “Here, I have a little money to buy some flour and a few items that you may need.” Lila twisted her apron in her hands and with tear- filled eyes, she hugged Tom.

“Can I visit her?” asked Tom. “Or can I at least write to her?” There was silence for a moment. Lila’s face was expressionless. Granny’s eyes met Tom’s and she said, “I’ll tell her, son, that you been asking ‘bout her.” Lila looked up sharply.

When Tom left, it was so dark they could barely see him getting into his buggy. The two old women smiled and waved, watching Tom disappear into the distance. They went back inside and sat in silence for a long while. Finally, Granny said, “That boy’s breaking my heart.”