The Pilgrim Song (26 page)

Clint had taken the old man at his word and was now on his way home with the mules. He said nothing to the others, wanting it to be a surprise. The mules’ names were Samson and Delilah, and the old man’s bright eyes had glinted when he said, “Watch out for that Delilah. She’s a mean, cantankerous, schemin’ critter. Not like Samson there. Nice, steady mule. Never give no one no trouble. That’s always the way of it, ain’t it? The female’s at the root of man’s troubles.” Clint laughed aloud as he thought of how Dolly had attacked the old man for that comment, beating him on the chest with her tiny fists. Of course, she didn’t really mean anything by it. The two had been married for sixty years, and the affection between them was evident.

After the storm, Clint had mounted Samson and was riding him while leading Delilah by a rope around her neck. He had been thinking about the old couple when Delilah lowered her head and snapped at his leg. He reached back and struck her in the nose with his fist. “Settle down there, Delilah,” he said firmly. “I’ll make sausage out of you if you give me any trouble.”

When he reached the yard, Kat came running out. It was a Tuesday in March, and she had just gotten home from school. “Can I ride, Clint?”

“Sure. Get up on this big one.” He helped her get up behind him.

She hung on to his waist and said, “Why can’t I ride the other one?”

“ ’Cause she’s downright mean and snaky. Tried to bite me just a ways back.”

“What’s her name?”

“Delilah, and this big fellow we’re ridin’ on is Samson.”

“Samson and Delilah. What are you going to do with them, Clint, ride ’em?”

“No, we’re going to make the biggest garden in the county.”

As they pulled up in front of the house, the whole family emerged.

“Where’d you get them?” Lewis asked.

“From Jesse and Dolly. They said we needed them, which we do.”

Clint slid off the mule and slapped the big animal on the shoulder. “They’re fine mules. You could plant a crop of cotton with these.”

“You think cotton would grow around here, Clint?” Hannah asked.

“I expect it would, but I don’t think it’d pay to grow it. Nobody’s going to have money to buy any.”

“What’ll we raise, then?” Jenny asked.

“We’ll raise the biggest vegetable garden you ever saw. We’ll get enough to eat for the next year and sell some of it too, if we’re lucky.”

Josh approached the mules cautiously. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a mule before. Are these good ones?”

“Mighty fine, Josh. I’ll teach you how to plow. You’ll probably be good at it.”

****

The deacons of the First Baptist Church formed a semicircle around the room. Brother Crutchfield had been surprised when the deacons had marched in one late afternoon.
Have I forgotten a meeting?
he asked himself. But as he looked around, he saw their uncomfortable expressions, especially on the face of Jude Tanner. The big blacksmith was usually a cheerful sort, but now there was a hangdog look about him, and he kept his lips pressed tight.
Must be trouble if Jude’s bothered,
Devoe thought. “What can I do for you, brothers?”

Millington Wheeler spoke up at once. He was the chairman of the board of deacons and the most prominent member of the community, or at least the richest. He was only in his midforties, but people often thought he was older because of his fine head of silver hair. His fierce determination set him apart as a man who usually got his way. As was his habit, he cut to the heart of the matter at once. “Brother Crutchfield,” he began, “you know the Bible tells us if we see our brother in a fault, we’re to go to him.”

“And what fault is it you’ve seen in me?” Devoe asked unnecessarily, having already guessed what bothered them.

Wheeler put it bluntly. “You’re spending too much time with that Winslow woman.”

“That’s right,” H. G. Huntington agreed, nodding. “It doesn’t look right. She comes to your house at noon and stays until nearly dark.”

“Are you accusing me, then,” Crutchfield asked straight out, “of having an affair with the woman?”

“Of course not,” Potter Flemming said. The mayor was a small man with a lawyer’s big voice. “But the Bible says to avoid the very appearance of evil.”

“We’re all agreed on this thing,” Huntington declared.

“No we’re not!”

Everyone turned to face Jude Tanner, who towered over the others. “I don’t agree, and I told them so. I think it’s foolishness to even be here.”

“You’re not even a married man, Jude!” Wheeler snapped.

“You think unmarried men can’t spot sin as quick as married ones?”

The ire of the deacons was directed momentarily toward Jude Tanner. Wheeler, however, quickly regained control. “That’s all we’re going to say. There are plenty of good women in our congregation you could get for a housekeeper.”

“By good women you mean plain women?”

“Put it that way if you like.” Wheeler flushed. He could not bear to be crossed, and now he jammed his hat down
over his head. “This is our final word on the matter. It’s not debatable.”

“I quite agree,” Crutchfield said evenly. “It’s not debatable from my point of view either. Miss Winslow’s family is in trouble financially. They need the work, and I have no intention of letting her go.”

Wheeler’s face flushed crimson. He opened his mouth to speak, then clamped his jaw shut before opening it again. “I would advise you to reconsider, Pastor.” He turned and left the room, followed by all the others except Tanner.

“I’m sure sorry about this, Preacher,” the big man said.

“Not your fault, Jude.”

“Bunch of lunkheads! I’d like to knock their heads together! Anyway, it’s not all about Miss Winslow. They’re still mad at you for starting that Sunday school for the Negro kids.”

“I know.” Crutchfield stepped closer and laid his hand on Tanner’s oak tree of an arm. Smiling, he said, “Thanks for trying to help.”

“You’d better watch out,” Tanner warned as he turned to go. “It’s not over yet.”

****

It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and Clint took great pleasure in driving the mules down the long row. He had laid out a huge garden, having discovered that he could still handle a plow and a team skillfully. Kat ran behind him gathering up red worms in the furrows and placing them in a gallon bucket. “Can we go fishing after you finish plowing?”

“Maybe so, if we get through in time.”

Kat ran to his side and trotted along, asking questions a mile a minute. “How do you plow such a straight line, Clint?”

“You don’t look down at the ground in front of you. You keep your eye on the end of the row. Kinda like life, I guess. Always keep your head up and look to see where you’re heading in the future, and you won’t trip up or get off a straight path.”

“I’m not good at thinking ahead, Clint. About all I can see is right now.”

Clint laughed and looked down at her, the plowline around his neck and his two big hands gripping the plow. “I guess I feel about the same most days.” His head snapped up at a man approaching. “Look, there’s Jesse.”

The two took the plow to the end of the row, and Clint stopped the mules, tying the lines around the plow. They walked over to greet Jesse, who was standing at the corner of the freshly plowed garden.

“Howdy, Clint . . . missy.” Jesse doffed his hat and said, “Wanted to come by and tell you about the reenactment we’re doing this afternoon. I meant to mention it to you earlier, but I guess I forgot.”

“What do you reenact?” Clint asked.

“A bunch of us old-timers get together and try to reenact a local battle from the war.”

“The Civil War?”

“That’s right.”

“I didn’t know there was a battle fought around here.”

“Well, it weren’t no battle really,” Cannon snorted. “No more than a little skirmish. Three Yankees got ’emselves killed, and one of our boys too, but everybody sure enjoys goin’. There’s a heap o’ dancin’ and music and enough food for the whole Confederate Army.”

“Who furnishes the food?”

“The politicians. They all chip in and buy a cow, and the women cook it up with all the fixin’s. The beef’s a lot easier to swaller than those speeches them fellers make. You be sure and come, now.”

“All right. I think we all deserve a little break.”

“You come too, missy. There’s games for the kids and fireworks and all kinds of goin’s-on.”

“I sure will, Mr. Cannon.”

As soon as Jesse left, Clint turned to Kat. “Well, I guess we can call it a day. We’ve worked pretty hard.”

“I’m going to see if Dallas will go. He and Tennie never go anywhere.”

“You go on ahead. You come right back, though.”

Dallas was the boy Kat encountered in the woods the day she had gotten lost. Dallas knew the woods like no one else. He could name all the flowers and plants, and he had taken Kat squirrel hunting once, even letting her try her hand at shooting. She’d missed the squirrel but had had the time of her life.

Now she made the three-quarter-mile trip quickly and found the two out plowing their own garden behind a blue-nosed mule.

“Why, hello there, young ’un,” Dallas’s grandmother said, taking the black gum stick out of her mouth. It had to be black gum, Kat had been informed. Nothing else would do. “What are you up to today?”

“I came to be sure you and Dallas will be at the reenactment.”

“Don’t reckon so,” Tennie grunted.

“Why not?” Kat demanded. “It sounds like fun. Jesse said there’ll be lots to eat and music and games too, and shootin’ off muskets.”

“We don’t go to things too much in town,” Tennie explained. “They don’t keer for us there.”

Kat shook her head with determination. “You’ve got to come. I want you both there with me. We’ll do all the stuff together, and it’s free.” She was so persuasive that after ten minutes Tennie threw up her wrinkled old hands. “You’d talk a possum out of a tree, young ’un. All right, we’ll come but don’t reckon we’ll stay long.”

Dallas had said nothing this whole time. He was surprised that his grandmother had surrendered to Kat, but his eyes lit up when she did. When Kat came over to him and talked excitedly about the upcoming festivities, he finally uttered what for him was a long speech. “I reckon we’ll come.”

“Wouldja look at that!” Jesse Cannon snorted. He and Clint were standing together in gray battle dress, the others scattered around before an open field. Two lines of men in blue had approached, and one of them had stopped and let off a fusillade of shots. Clint hadn’t wanted to participate, but at Jesse’s insistence, he had put on one of the extra uniforms and was learning the routine as they went.

“Reckon if anybody ever shot for real at them boys, they’d run like skeered rabbits.”

“I expect I would too.” Clint grinned.

“No you wouldn’t. You’re like them boys in my old outfit. You’d go until you stacked your musket at Appomattox.”

Lewis was standing close enough to hear this. “I’m surprised they found any men here willing to wear the Northern uniform.”

“Oh, it ain’t easy, but we all take turns now. One side gets to be Confederate one year and then the next year they gotta be Blue Bellies.”

“Look, there’s Tennie and Dallas!” Kat cried, running toward the pair with Jenny and the others close behind. Neither Tennie nor Dallas had bothered to dress up. They looked ragged and out of place.

Jenny felt a little ashamed at her thoughts about the pair.
Well, I suppose that’s all the clothing they have, but they look like scarecrows.

Tennie was looking apprehensive, not being used to crowds and knowing that the townspeople didn’t think much of her.

Kat ran right up and pulled at her hand. “I’m so glad you came, Tennie.”

“Well, I don’t know if’n I am or not. Lotsa doin’s.”

“C’mon, you and Dallas, we were just going to go over and eat. You see those tables of food? It’s all free!”

Kat led the pair to the refreshment tables filled with pitchers of lemonade and plates piled high with fresh-baked cookies.
The others followed, and when the ladies that served them looked askance at the tattered pair, Kat said loudly, “There’s going to be a tug-of-war. Will you be in it, Clint?”

“I doubt it. I believe Jude Tanner could outpull everybody in the village.” He winked at Jenny and said, “I hear he’s kinda sweet on you.”

Jenny flushed but didn’t answer.

Hannah was watching Tennie, feeling sorry for the old woman. There was nothing for her in life but hard work and hard times, nor had there ever been. Now as she watched the old woman’s weathered features, she saw a gentleness in them and thought,
She’s not used to people being nice to her.
Aloud Hannah said, “I’ve been meaning to come over and get you to show me the plants you find in the woods. I don’t know anything about them.”

Tennie smiled. “You just come any time you’ve a mind to, Miss Winslow. We’ll get us some poke salad. Ain’t nothin’ like fresh pokeweed to set a body up.”

****

The Winslows wandered around during the speeches, which took up the greater part of the afternoon. They paused once beside a group of women, and one of them looked directly at Jenny and said in an audible whisper, “It’s a shame the way some women take out after preachers, ain’t it, Hazel?”