Secrets of the Spiral Tower (4 page)

Chapter 5

Now, more than thirty years later after discovering the secret hiding place, Willow stood atop Fort Hill. During the siege of Vicksburg, Fort Hill served as the anchor of the left flank of the rear Confederate defense line. The fort’s position commanded such high ground and was so strong the Union Army didn’t attack it when the major assault on Vicksburg came.  Overlooking the Mississippi and Yazoo Rivers, the fort’s cannons and the artillery on the hill bank below controlled all of the traffic on the rivers.

Grant called for naval assistance. The fort’s artillery bombardment sank the Union ironclad
USS Cincinnati
as it tried to run the gauntlet. But eventually Union supply ships were able to pass, losing only one out of the armada. This was a decisive victory for the Union Army, and some historians say that the true strategic turning point of the Civil War was at Vicksburg, not Gettysburg.

Knowing the history of Fort Hill, Willow stood with tears welling in her eyes as she looked westerly.  Connor hung back, allowing Willow a private moment with the view.

  “Connor, I surely hope we never have to endure a tragedy like the Civil War again,” Willow said as Connor came up beside her. Then she abruptly added, “Let’s go to the cave.”

Connor was astonished by her sudden request.

“Willow, I don’t think we can find it. You know it’s been thirty years since we were last there. And besides, it looks like it might rain any minute.”

Willow smiled at the old memory.

“Oh, Connor!  Just like the day we found it, you’re scared!  Come on. I’ll bet I can find it. And if it rains, that would be perfect.”

Connor was still reluctant to move.

 “Are you sure you want to go there now? Who knows how grown up it is? And you remember the last time we went there.  You know what we did and you felt terrible afterwards.”

“Yes, I remember quite well. The years haven’t diminished my memory. I want to correct some of the mistakes we made. I want to do it right this time. You know what some famous person once said, ‘If you have made mistakes, even stupid ones, there’s always another chance. What I call failure is not the falling down, but staying down.’”

“I just think we need to concentrate on the house,” Connor said.  “Later, when we’ve prepared ourselves, we can go back to the cave.”

Willow considered for a moment.  “Connor, you’re right. I was just overcome by emotions when I saw all of those grave stones in that cemetery. Let’s go to one of those sandwich shops on Washington Street and have lunch.”

A smile replaced her sad face.

“And afterwards, we’ll go buy the house.”

“That’s a good plan. I guess you still like Memphis-style barbecue?”

“Yes, I do, and I haven’t had any in several years.”

“Then we’ll go to the Country Junction. The people who run it renovated one of the old sandwich shops that had been closed for years. You’re in for a treat.”

As they drove away from Fort Hill, Willow sat close to Connor on the seat of his Ford truck.  “When are you going to get a new truck?”

“Why? What’s wrong with this one?”

“To begin with, it’s old.”

“Yeah, but it’s not worn out. I’ve got only 200,000 miles on it.”   Connor laughed and added, “It’ll surely run another 100,000 miles before I have to change the oil.”

“Connor, I don’t doubt that, but I know you can afford to upgrade every four or five years.”

“Yes, I could. Your father’s towing business has provided very well for me.”

“Connor, you’ve worked for Daddy for over thirty-five years. You’ve helped him when I failed and you’ve kept the business moving forward after Daddy’s health failed.  So, I think we need to add another name to the family business. It should read ‘McKenzie and Peppler Towing.’”

“Willow, I wouldn’t dare change that name. It’s synonymous with a tradition like no other on the river. This is your father’s company 100 percent.”

Willow’s voice softened and she placed her hand on his arm.  “Connor, dearest, it’s great to be home and hear your smooth, sweet Southern voice. This is where I want to spend the rest of my life. Just you and me up on Fort Hill.”

“I guess I’m a bit sensitive about my accent. Most Yankees think we’re dumb.”

“That’s true, but not this Southern gal. I have lost some of my accent but I want to find it again.”

Willow slid closer to Connor, placed one warm hand on the inside of his leg and the other arm across the back of the seat, carefully stretched up and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you, darling.”

Connor smiled sideways at Willow as she slid away.

“Are you trying to wreck us?”

“No, darling,” she said.

Is she mocking me,
he wondered?

“I’m just feeling warm and amorous at the moment.”

“Well, cool it for a while. I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you call Woody and invite him to join us? He’ll be surprised to hear your voice.”

“I’ll do that. Do you have his cell number?”

Pulling a small notepad out of his shirt pocket, he said, “Yeah—601-555-5299.”

The phone rang twice before Woody answered.

“Woody, how may I help you?”

“Woody, this is Willow.”

“Willow? What a surprise. What’s going on?”

“I’m in Vicksburg. How about meeting me and Connor for lunch?”

“That would be great. Where?”

“Connor tells me the Country Junction has great barbecue.”

“Country Junction, huh? That’s an excellent choice if you like barbecue.”

“Woody, I’ve been gone for a long time, but haven’t lost my taste for good ole barbecue.”

“What time?”

“We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. How does that sound?”

“Super. I’ve got a favorite table in the back. If you beat me there, just tell the waitress, “Woody’s table.” She’ll know where to seat you.”

“Cuz, I’m looking forward to seeing you and sharing some exciting news.”

“Fine. See you shortly.”

As the pickup rumbled past the National Park Service entrance toward Cherry Street, Willow was looking forward to seeing her cousin, Woody McKenzie. When they were students at Mississippi State University, they never missed a home football or basketball game. Willow played on the varsity soccer team and starred as a goalie. Woody never missed one of her home games. He was more like a brother than a cousin to her. Connor, on the other hand, rarely attended any sporting events. 

Connor pressed the accelerator as the pickup ascended the hill that is the northern extension of Cherry Street. At the top of the hill is the “Devil’s Backbone,” a rugged broad ridge that extends about 100 yards from the western edge of the paved road and precipitously drops off toward  Historic Highway 61.

Several houses are located there and offer a panoramic view of the Mississippi and Yazoo Rivers.  “Stop—I want to take a closer look,” Willow said. “Maybe I should buy these houses and refurbish them for guest houses. We could build a new one at the end of the ridge and cantilever a beautiful porch over the bluff.”

“That would cost a fortune!”

Willow shrugged.  “I’ve got the money. Why not spend it?”

Connor shook his head ruefully, “You’re Rupert McKenzie’s daughter, all right.  He always dreamed big dreams and made them come true.”

“So, you’re saying I’m a McKenzie?”

“Without a doubt.”

Connor turned the pickup onto North Washington Street and headed south toward a public parking spot near the Cinnamon Tree gift shop.

The last time Willow visited downtown had been four years earlier, and she was amazed at the changes that had been made.

“We owe all these improvements to our new mayor,” said Connor.

“Should we go meet him?”

“In due time. As you know, his family owns the old Valley building.”

“I didn’t know that, but it makes sense because he’s so proactive in the revitalization efforts downtown.”

“He is truly an asset to this community.”

Connor parked the pickup.

 “Okay, I’ll bet Woody’s waiting on us as slow as we’ve been traveling.”

“I’m ready.”

Connor opened the large glass and wooden door to The Country Junction. The hostess smiled and asked immediately, “Table for two?”

 “We’re looking for Woody McKenzie.”

“Please, follow me.  Woody is a regular and he has a special table.  He eats with us about three times a week for lunch and sometimes in the evenings with his family.”

Connor pointed to a table in the back of the room.  “Yes, I see him now. Thank you.”

“What can I get the two of you to drink?”

“Sweet iced tea for me with a big slice of lemon,” said Willow.

“And you, sir?”

“Sweet tea sounds good.”

“With lemon?”

“Yes.”

Woody was standing by the table and extended his hand to Willow.

“Please, ‘Cuz,’ you can do better than a handshake. Let’s have a family hug. I haven’t had the pleasure of a hug from you in quite a while. It’s great to see you, Woody.”

“It’s great to see you, too. It’s really been too long.”

Willow took a deep breath of the warm cooking smells.  “This is a really neat restaurant.”

“The barbecue is out of this world,” Connor said.  “I get the pulled pork plate with coleslaw and beans and a big slice of onion.”

“That sounds good, except for the onion,” said Willow.

“Sweet Vidalia.”

“Maybe some other time.”

The server returned with the drinks and asked, “Are you guys ready to order?”

“Please bring two pulled pork plates, without onion this time.”

“Aw, go ahead Connor,” Willow said, smiling. “I like the smell of onion.”

“I’ll have the same,” Woody said. “Willow, so when did you get to town?”

“About three hours ago. I flew into the Vicksburg-Tallulah Airport. That’s a pretty nice addition to this community.”

“And how long do you intend to stay this time?”

“I’ve been gone far too long from my family and Connor. I’ve decided to sell my businesses and retire here.”

Woody looked genuinely surprised. “Why Vicksburg?  After all, you’ve traveled the world and can afford to live on the French Rivera or some other exotic port. You could always come back here for a visit a couple of times a year.”

“That’s true, but Vicksburg is home and this is where my heart is. If I get wanderlust again, I’ll pack up and move on. But, for a while, I want to plant my roots in the Mississippi soil again. So much is changing about Mississippi that it’s becoming a great place to live. I saw the economic development council advertising in ‘Fortune 500’ magazine that Mississippi is ‘open for business.’  Having been in the advertising business for several years, I appreciate catchy sound bites and phrases like that.”

“Have you visited Uncle Rupert, yet?”

“No. Connor tells me Daddy has a routine and I didn’t want to interrupt that.  We’re going later this afternoon. Have you seen him lately?”

“No, I haven’t. You know, he and I had our differences.”

“Woody, that’s all in the past. We should try to mend those family fences.”

“You know your daddy never forgave me for firing those people at Bakersfield,” Woody said bitterly.  “One of the guys worked on Rupert’s tow boat while finishing his degree at Mississippi State.”

“I remember Lawrence Wilson all too well, that sorry so-and-so.”

“That’s right. It doesn’t surprise me that a woman would remember him. He treated women like dish rags, just used ‘em and tossed ‘em.”  Woody’s hatred suddenly hung over the table like fog.  “I know that rat-bastard was somehow responsible for Martha’s death, but I’ll never know how.”

Willow took a deep breath.  “Oooo-kay, that’s enough about Lawrence Wilson.  All of that is old history and should be forgotten.  But someday you must tell me all about what happened during that New Orleans situation.”  To change the tone of the conversation, she asked, “Woody, how is your family? How old is Anne?”

“They’re doing fine. Anne is 12 and in the sixth grade.”

“And the Russian girl?”

Woody’s voice tightened again.  “Olga and I were married three years ago.”

Willow sensed she had tripped another emotional landmine.

“I apologize if I upset you. I didn’t know you and Olga were married. The last I heard, she was working for you at Ole Bruin Mills.”

Woody knew he was still hyper-sensitive about the New Orleans affair, so he made an effort to back off.  “After we settled in from our ordeal with Whitney Rivers and Perrier Pharmaceutical, Olga worked at OBM, went to night school and graduated with honors from law school at Mississippi College. She passed the bar exam on the first try.  And Olga has been a real asset at OBM.  She’s a good lawyer, and tri-lingual to boot … English, Spanish, and her native Russian.”