The Blood of Heaven (28 page)

The First Transaction

We’d been wrong about the Americans, as would so often be the case, and the yard that evening was filled with some twenty men. The only foreigner among them was their leader, the limey Stirling. Samuel raged upon seeing that it wasn’t Kneeland who’d been sent to head the militia, and gave a punch to the wall where he leaned to look out one of the barrel-peeps I’d ordered left in the boarded windows.

Bastards, he said. Piss-legged running dogs.

They know not what they do, I said.

Samuel looked to me, deciding whether or not I was joking, and said, The time for quoting scripture’s passed.

My Bible had resumed its place at my breast, its pages now rubbed by the pistol-shot I kept there also, and below that the pistol itself, lashed to me with a leather bandolier which also held a small patch knife and a long butcher’s blade. In my hands I carried a buss tamped with seventy-four and a few nails I’d pulled from the ruins of my cabin to the north.

Some neighbors, said Arthur Cobb.

Better we know now than later, said Henry Bradford.

Crabbe scuttled to the door and said, Should I go around the back and spook them off their horses? I’ll have them running for the river.

No, said Samuel. We go out and meet them.

And I had no time to go back into the bedroom and give a kiss to my wife and son before Samuel unbarred the door and he—followed by Ransom, Cobb, and Abrams—stepped out onto the porch and I followed.

Sirs, said Stirling from his mount with an air of mocking deference. Behind him, his men, our neighbors, held their guns and stared us down. Only a few were on horseback, and these tottered uneasily in their saddles.

Look at all you wretches, said Samuel. Not a Puke among you, yet you do their wicked works.

This, said Stirling, is a simple civic matter. I am authorized by Commandant Grand Pré to order you to leave this house. And—

Go ahead and order us, you English shit, I said.

I am a Scot, Mister Kemper, he said. And if you do not comply with this order, I am authorized to arrest you, along with any that aid and abet your persons in this open violation—

Abrams and Cobb shared a laugh at this.

Let’s have the rascals now, said one of the militiamen, to the agreement of the others.

Come and try, boys, I called out.

Stirling straightened on his horse, trying to bring the full weight of his bearing down upon us. He said, I have with me now twenty men, well-armed as you can see, and by nightfall another forty from Baton Rouge will have arrived.

Is the other forty made up of your poisoned niggers? Mister Stirling? said Samuel. I’d say you’ll need more than that.

The alcalde jerked at the reins of his horse. Presently the others of our party came out onto the porch, even Crabbe, who lurked in the doorway, as yet unnoticed.

And you, Henry? said Stirling. You side with this rabble and bring your boys?

I do, Mister Stirling, said Henry Bradford. You and your friends have sown seeds of anger in this country. Don’t think we haven’t seen how you acquire your land. False judgments, bad deeds, signing away a man’s claims and selling them off half price to your friends.

And the rest of you? Stirling said.

But before any other of our fellows could answer, the alcalde’s eyes went wide and he near tore the bit from his horse’s mouth when Johnny Crabbe came around to the front of the porch, a pair of pistols in his claws.

Good God, he said, reeling. I thought—

They do have a monster, said a militiaman.

Saints alive, said another.

That’s no monster, I said, but a man. And he’s a reminder to all you rotten sons of scabby bitches that there are horrors in this world, and we will visit them upon you if you cross us one more step.

You are worse off than I thought, said Stirling. Keeping a creature best born dead—

Another word, said Samuel, and you’ll be looking far worse than him.

The militiamen hoisted their weapons and so the boys on the porch held theirs high as well, and trained. I held the buss at my hip, and catching sight of Stirling’s overseer in the crowd, I trained the barrel on him. Slowly the sound of hammers being cocked made the rounds, and amid the clicks I prayed that Red Kate was huddled in a safe place, behind the dismantled bed, the mattress propped against the window by its iron frame. The slip and lock of hammers seemed endless and came in waves until Stirling held up his hand and said, No. I did not come here to be party to a massacre.

Then why’d you bring all the guns? said Ransom O’Neil.

You’ll be part of the massacred, said Samuel.

A militiaman piped up, calling, Keep boasting, you indigent—

Quiet! said Stirling. Mister Kemper, I know you have your wife and child in the house and I must say that it’s out of Christian charity that I don’t order an attack at this very moment.

Eat shit, you George-dog! came my wife’s cry from the bedroom, followed by my son’s wail.

Stirling looked as though he’d collapse with impotent rage. He wasn’t as rotten a man as Kneeland, and the Pukes—always for peace and placation—must have known that he was better to send to try and talk us out. Don’t give them your backs, men, he ordered, and he flicked his reins and the militia slowly began to file out sideways from the yard. Their glances to us were like their leader’s, with the wish for blood and fire present but thankful also to not have had any.

They took up a position in the high cane near the Thompson’s Creek road, as we were told by Ransom, who’d run to the back of the house and peered out after them with a spyglass.

I don’t like it, Samuel said. This rat-trap feeling.

We’re here for a reason, I said. You and Reuben wanted to make your point, and now I’m the only one who wants to.

We’ve already made it. But there’s twenty Americans with him out there, and more coming. There’s no support for us except what’s already here.

They chose their side, I said, and wrongly. Let’s have it out here and now. We could pluck them off one by one.

But even as I spoke, night, which had been creeping upon the land, began to fall.

They’re splitting up, said Ransom, squinting over the glass. Spreading out a bit.

They’re setting a trap, I said. There’s nowhere else to go. We’ve felt them out and now we know their taste for fighting.

We didn’t shoot either, Samuel said.

I would’ve, said Arthur Cobb, God Almighty I was ready.

Damn right, said Sam Kirkland.

Then what? said Samuel. Do you all say stay with Angel and have one bloody battle, or break for it and when the time comes take the real prize—the country.

The men were all silent. The quiet was only broken by the two Bradford boys, who said, The small prize isn’t what we want, eh? The whole pie’s the thing.

Then why in God’s name did we stay here to get surrounded? said Kirkland.

If they’d wanted to fight, Samuel said, then we would have obliged them. See, now we know they’ve got no orders to fire a single shot. If we get out now, we’ll make it unmolested. They’ll think they’ve served their purpose, but we’ll be riding to Pinckneyville, where more men await to join us.

How in hell can we know that?

Samuel ignored him, saying, Ransom, keep an eye on the horses. Mind they don’t try and tamper with them.

They’re gone past what I can see, Ransom answered. I believe they’ve gone on up the road.

We can get around them if we wait till full dark and we split, said Samuel. Then, turning to me: Or would you rather have your one moment on the cross?

That’s all it took for Christ, I said. Just one time.

You might learn one day, brother, that you are no Christ.

We stared at each other, and I felt the pistol burning at my belly like an iron.

And what about Kate and the boy? I said.

That is your own damned fault, said Samuel. You should’ve had her submit when you had the chance.

Like you did with the widow Cobb, I said.

Enough of this, said Samuel. I love you, brother, but you’re trying me.

Samuel went from me and called out for the boys to gather up all the guns and shot they could carry and make ready to ride. They commenced to collecting up their arms and scooping handfuls of shot, and I struggled to accept that we’d retreat.

And if they pick us off when we go out to the horses? I said.

Samuel, taking a pair of muskets from the cue rack, said, I’ll be the one to go out first. How’s that?

So will I, said Ransom.

I left them to their work and went to the bedroom, and, opening the door, I found Red Kate standing there.

I heard it all, she said. Why’re you being weak?

Quiet, damn you. Get the boy and whatever you can carry.

We’ll go without a shot? she asked.

I told my wife I couldn’t fight alone, but she refused to hear. Finally, I filled so much up with anger that I said to her, If I have to bind my son to your breast and your hands together with rope, you’re coming with me.

But Red Kate only closed her eyes and said, Why do you bend this way to him?

He’s my brother, I said.

And I’m your wife, you fool, fool man.

And the good wife submits to the will of her husband—so says the Lord. You say you’ve seen blood and spilt it, then you shouldn’t be afraid of riding out. When I come back I expect you to be ready.

True to his word, Samuel was the first to go out, bristling with guns and keeping low as he could down the high steps, around the pilings to the horses. When he was atop his and there were no shots, he waved us to follow and one by one the men slipped out the door, keeping an eye to the road and the high cane, from which there issued not a sound. By his order they formed a line of cover for me to take Red Kate, clinging to our son, out to my horse. She cursed me under her breath as I pushed her up, and she rode angrily before me in the saddle as we split ranks, forgoing the road for overgrown and wild places. And there were shouts of sentries as we tore off, but not a shot issued from them. With Samuel riding beside me on our way to the Tunica and then north, I held my wife and son close, feeling his small form jostling rough with every fall of hoof, his mother’s heart going so hard as she whipped her head to give one last look to our house that I could feel it in him also.

There was no moon that night, and as we rode I could only imagine the others lost in brush and cane-breaks, trying blindly for the border. But they were soon forgotten when, as we made to cross a carriage road, we came upon a pair of men afoot, posted there as sentries. They must have been asleep, for one jumped quickly up and jabbed at the other with his musket when we appeared, the second rising groggily, then quickly snatching up his own piece.

Hold there! said the first, and I saw then that it was Stirling’s overseer; and likewise he took us for who we were.

Samuel was between us and the men, his pistol out and aimed. Shakily they held their own weapons on us.

Hold now, said the second.

We’d come to a stop and I could see from the overseer’s face that he was gleeful. I can’t believe it’s me who gets you bastards, he said.

You see I’ve got my wife and child here, I said. I wouldn’t want her distressed.

I don’t give a damn, you scoundrel, said the overseer, leaning around Samuel’s horse.

Are you well, love? I said, feigning husbandly tones, into Red Kate’s ear.

What’s this business? said the overseer.

Christ, I’m fine, came her hissing answer.

Cover the boy’s ears, I said. It’s chilly out.

Red Kate wrenched around and gave me a look of vicious bewilderment, though her hands did presently move to cup our son’s head.

Enough of this nonsense, said the overseer. Down off those horses!

Can you stand a shock, Copperhead?

I’m fine, God damn it, she said.

Good, I said, turning wife and child from me as much I could with one arm; and with the other hand I drew my buss from the saddle and shot the overseer.

In the after-roar my son was wailing and the horse in reel; the second man scrambled off for the roadside woods from which we’d come, tripping on the overseer’s splayed-out body, which yet twitched with life. Samuel fired after him, but we wasted no time in pursuit. For an instant I held my bead on nothing but air and my wife thrashed in my grasp and my son’s shrieks seemed louder than the shot had been.

My brother growled cusses, trying to right his horse. He spurred across the road and I followed after him, seeing as I rode over the overseer’s corpse that his boots no longer kicked and that he was torn in half from arm to neck. I leaned my face into my wife’s as we rode through the limbs and she was speaking but by then I couldn’t hear in the rush of wind and dark; and I felt her teeth at my jaw and she bit me deep enough to draw blood and take a chunk when I pulled free. I saw her spit, then she huddled down over the boy. The air stung where she’d bitten me and the barrel of the buss was hot against my thigh and in that moment, thrashing through the dark, I found myself filled up with glory, and knew that this was what I’d wanted.