Teetoncey and Ben O'Neal (5 page)

Still harboring my knowledge of what was going to occur in a few days when Consul Calderham arrived, I rode in the back of the cart with that fickle gold hound while Mama and Tee sat on the seat. Mama, handling the reins, told Tee her parents should feel at home on the Banks since most of us had British blood, from castaways of past shipwrecks. Our grandparents settled down and stayed.

The Hatteras graveyards are all on high ground, back toward the sound shore. Even so, storms occasionally push the tide into the graveyards, sometimes causing unpleasant tasks when the water drains away. The foremost graveyard is well behind candy-striped Hatteras Lighthouse but Filene had selected the burying ground near Chicky for the victims of the
Malta Empress.

Teetoncey wept a little when looking at the crosses on which Mark Jennette had carved A for Appleton, especially when Mama handed over two cloth roses to pay respects. I'm thankful it was not gray and grim out there. The sun was up strong and the land looked cheerful. A few hardy birds chittered in the gnarled oaks nearby. It was even warm.

They dropped me off at the Burrus' store and went straight on home, since Tee was feeling tender. It was most fortunate that they did not stop to visit Hazel Burrus. Right off, Mis' Burrus said to me, "We heerd the British consul is comin out to git Teetoncey." The news had traveled to everywhere except the O'Neal house. As I worked throughout the morning and afternoon, various people commented on it, saying it was a shame for the Widow O'Neal to lose her treasured girl so soon. I agreed, for different reasons, but did not mention them. If Tee stayed on, I'd have a chance to bid fare thee well to the Banks.

I finished about four o'clock and walked on to the house, deciding it was absolute time to tell Mama if she didn't already know. They were sitting on the stoop when I arrived, all dressed up as if it were Easter afternoon. Teetoncey smiled prettily and said, "Hello, Ben."

"Howdy," I answered, taking a closer look at them. They were wearing shawls over their blouses.

It was hard to believe. Except for weddings and funerals, Mama never got this dressed up on a weekday. She'd put an Italian brooch, one Reuben had traded off with a German sailor down in Porto Rico, at the throat of her blouse. She was even wearing those extra-high button shoes that hurt her feet. Neither of them looked down in the dumps from having been informed that Henry Calderham, Esq., was on his way.

Speaking almost snooty, Mama said, "Ben, we'll have dinner at five-thirty. You best git washed up." (I did have some dried blood on my hands from killing and plucking a hen for Mis' Burrus. Now that I noticed it, there were a few chicken feathers stuck to my trousers.) Then it dawned on me what Mama had said.
Dinner.
We always ate dinner at noon; supper at night.

Puzzled, I went past them into the house and saw that Mama had set up the small, square, oak living-room table on which usually sat the lamp over a doily. There were three chairs at the table. Except for holidays, for years we'd been eating in the kitchen on red-checked oilcloth. Old linen napkins from the wreck of the
Colleen Deviny
had come out of the trunk and were by the tin cups. There was even a candle, stuck in an Arab silver holder from Grandpa Cap'n Isaac O'Neal's inheritance, in the middle of the table. No one could have believed what was going on in the front room under the soulful stare of Reuben's buck.

Mama followed me into the kitchen where I went to wash up. Her eyes sparkling, she said happily, "I want Teetoncey to know we have some manners out here. You change into your best knickers, an' put a tie on, Ben. We'll eat proper."

I looked at her in amazement. She did seem ten years younger this late afternoon. I'm sure she brushed the gray strands of her hair for an hour. The bun at the back of her neck had never been so precise. There wasn't a speck of grime under her blunt fingernails. She'd also put some powder on her long nose so it couldn't possibly shine.

This was what a girl around the house could cause, I thought. The Widow O'Neal was finally happy and I didn't have the heart to tell her, just then, about the visitor from Norfolk. Maybe he'd get gout and couldn't disembark from the
Neuse.

But I must say I enjoyed eating by candlelight, with Mama chewing slowly and talking softly, putting on airs for the first time since I'd known her. I also enjoyed watching Teetoncey eat. Daintily, she was doing something with her fork and knife and black-eyed peas. I had always used a knife to cut with but she was using it to eat with, helping load peas to the fork. She'd smile when she'd catch me looking at her.

To think I'd first discovered this same girl sprawled on the beach half dead; battered and bruised from the surf, skin whitish blue. Now, she sat wholesome and alive, with high cheekbones and good straight teeth, nose a little sharper than most. I'd have to admit she was prettier than any of the Banks girls. None had that yellow daisy hair. I was beginning to have dangerous mixed feelings, varying from hour to hour, about Tee. Liking her one day; disliking her the next.

"What kind of meat is this?" she asked. "It's very good."

"Wild pig roast," Mama answered. Then she looked over at me. "Jabez sneaked it out o' Heron Head mess this mornin'. Good thing Filene didn't catch him."

Filene had more to worry about than wild pig, I thought. I said, "Yes," anyway.

Teetoncey ate delicately, unlike the Gillikin girls. "This bread is delicious, what is it?" she asked politely, after a bird bite of it.

Mama said, "You fleech me, Wendy. It's spoon-bread. I'm proud that you like it."

The girl smiled graciously and said, "I do. And I also like living here. Already. And, you know, I'd really rather have you call me Teetoncey. It's such a lovely name."

Mama practically melted and I thought,
Oh, boy, you two had better hang on to your straps.

As an afterthought, the girl asked, "What does 'fleech' mean?"

"Means to flatter," I answered. I'd already told her but she hadn't remembered.

Mama said, "I do think you'll enjoy stayin' out here with us for a while. Ben can show you eighty-foot whale skeletons an' take you up in the lighthouses."

"Oh, that's ripping," the girl replied excitedly.

Yes, a big rip
is
due, I thought.

Then they got to talking about the future and Mama said she just couldn't wait until the mail boat brought those new dresses from Chicago and Teetoncey said she'd like to embroider something for the house. She'd learned how in London. They bubbled on for ten minutes about happy times to come and then I thought I'd have to do it. I cleared my throat and said, "Mama, the British consul has left Norfolk to come out and get Teetoncey."

The girl dropped her fork and Mama rose half out of the chair. Her face turned the color of used soapsuds. She said, "Ben, don't jest me."

"I'm not jesting, Mama. Filene called the assistant inspector and he called the consul."

Mama left the table to look out the window toward Heron Head Station. I could almost feel her anger rising.

Teetoncey started to cry. "I don't want to go," she shrieked.

Mama came back from the window and said, "You don't have to go, child." She put her arms around the girl.

The girl actually wanted to stay.

E
VEN BEFORE BREAKFAST
, Mama, restless and churning all night, said, "There's only one thing to do, Ben. Hide her! Hide her good till that British consul leaves."

So, you see, I did not have to advance the scheme myself. However, being of the same mind, I grinned triumphantly. "There are plenty of places," I said, knowing more of them than she did.

Mama nodded with determination as she put the coffee on and laid some fatback in the skillet.

Then when Tee came into the kitchen to wash up after her trip to the outhouse, I announced, "We're going to hide you."

Her thin face beamed. "Yes, yes," she said, clapping her hands in a female fashion. "When will we do it?"

"A night or two," Mama said, with firmness. "Now, I know it is against the law to do this, Teetoncey, but takin you away to let that consul declare your fate is against everthin' human and Christian. The British governmint can wait awhile."

The issue was thereupon decided on the grounds of humanity and Christians.

I immediately suggested taking Tee over to Hog Island, which was between Long Point and Bluff Point, off the mainland shore of the Pamlico. It was inhabited only by birds and fiddler crabs. Some fishermen had put a shack up on it long ago. With a few boards tacked up, it could be livable for a month. But Mama voted that down, not wanting us to cross the sound in my sailboat. Though she didn't mention the incident, I had dumped the boat the previous month, almost drowning.

I then suggested hiding Tee in one of the windmills. There was enough space inside the small shingled housing to live for a while, though it might be drafty. The mills, up on stilts, were in disuse, and the sails, which are the turning vanes, hadn't been grinding corn for several years. Nobody ever came near them except for stray mainlanders who thought they were quaint.

"No," Mama said thoughtfully, "we'll find a place to hide her in warmth, with decent food an' a good bed."

To me, that was very dangerous. There were so many loose tongues on the Banks and Filene would go door-to-door asking for Teetoncey. Since nobody wanted to be caught with a goose egg passing their Adam's apple, they would not lie about it. The result would be that Henry Calderham would spirit her away.

We talked it over all through breakfast with no solution. Mama did say, "We should see our cousin this morning. If he gits the notion we plan to play the fox, he'll camp here."

I hadn't thought about that.

After chores, we went to Heron Head Station and on the way Mama said to Teetoncey, "Now, you jus' tell Filene Midgett you'll do what is right, an' let the rest to me. I'm not askin you to tell a lie. In this case, doin what is right is stayin away from the consul."

Teetoncey nodded but I also noticed she swallowed. Like myself, I don't think she was looking forward to that face chopped out of quarry rock. Under those bushy brows, Filene's eyes could rivet through an anvil, or so it seemed. But if he expected Mama to blow him out of the water, he was mistaken.

As we entered, Mama said pleasantly, "Why, g'mornin', Cousin."

Filene was prepared for the worst. He took a nervous breath and said, "Mornin, Rachel." Then he greeted Tee and me but acted like he hoped Mark Jennette would call him up to the cupola for an emergency.

Mama said, "I heerd a rumor that the British consul is comm."

Still narrow-eyed and wary, Filene said, "That's right, Rachel. I'm expectin him tomorry."

Mama said forthrightly, "I'll pack what few clothes Teetoncey has an' git her ready."

Filene didn't know what to say. "Well, Rachel, I, ah ... thought ... ah..."

"I know what you thought," Mama broke in. "I'd come over here an' act like an aggravatin' woman."

Filene laughed. "I did. I sure did." He was much relieved.

Mama said quietly, "We'll do what's right."

The keeper peered over at Teetoncey. "And how about you, Miss?"

"Whatever is right, sir," she answered, so mannerly.

Filene laughed again. "Well, I never." He shook his head. "Consul Calderham will be surprised."

"That he will," Mama agreed. "When did you say he was comin'?"

"Tomorry. I'm sendin' Jabez up to Skyco today to git him. He'll be on the steamer. Then I suspect they'll leave here the next day. The consul is not taken with the Banks, as you know."

Mama said, "I hope he has a pleasant voyage," and then beckoned us out of the station.

Filene smiled and waved from the door, likely unable to believe he'd steered a shallow channel over the Widow O'Neal without once scraping bottom.

Hearing what Mama had said about a pleasant voyage, I had an idea. "I'll walk home," I said. "I want to see Jabez."

Jabez was sitting out in the sun on the north side of the station, splicing some manila line that he'd laid over a thimble. "How do, Ben," he said.

I squatted in the sand very near him so I could talk low. "I hear you're going to get that consul soon."

Jabez nodded unhappily. "I'll leave after noon chow. Truly, I was hopin', for your mama's sake, that he wouldn't come out for a month or so."

I said, "Jabez, you had great respect for my papa, didn't you?"

"I sure did," he answered.

"You like Mama and me, don't you?"

"I sure do."

I lowered my voice even more. "An' you saw how that consul acted when he was here before. He was unfeeling toward that girl."

"Yep."

"Well," I said, "we'd consider it a family favor if you'd make sure the consul has a rough trip out."

Jabez spit a gob of tobacco saliva about eight feet, and then sniffed. He knew what I meant.

There are ways of sailing a boat that are uncomfortable. You take some waves bow-on, and the cold water sloshes into the boat. You don't quarter them but plow in. When you come around on a tack, you let her pound a little more; wallow some. You might even get very sloppy when you come around and let the boom hit the passenger in the head. All it takes is a mite of pressure with your elbow on the tiller and a keen eye to the wind and waves.

Jabez grinned suddenly. "Well, Ben, if there's fifteen or twenty knots o' wind, even ten, I jus' don't see how it won't be a rough trip in an open boat, an' I'll make sure I got one. In mid-December, these sounds can be as mean as treed polecats, I tell you."

I got up. "Appreciate it, Jabez."

Chinless Jabez, built like a long bean, chuckled and took another spit and pulled his splice tight.

I went home.

About noontime, I was not really surprised when Mama got me aside to say, "Ben, you'll have to hide her an' not tell me where she is. Filene'll ask an' I've got to be able to say I jus' don't know. She's gone visitin', that's all. But don't you take her out on the water. Keep her in a warm place an' feed her."

I had been thinking about just such a place and a little later got aboard Fid, who was having a workout these days, and trotted south. Reaching the area of Buxton Woods, I left the trail so I could come up in back of Mis' Creedy's house and not be seen. I tied Fid down in the marsh and walked the last half mile to her cottage, which was surrounded with clematis, with its apple-green flowers, and red myrtle; wisteria clumped over her south porch in season. There was some deerberry not far away. It was a pretty setting.