Читать книгу Ghosts of the Green Swamp - Lee Gramling - Страница 8

1

“IF YOU SO MUCH AS MOVE A EYELASH, Barkley, I’m going to blow your guts all over this countryside!”

Well, that fellow with the slouch hat and the two-barreled shotgun who was standin’ in the road in front of me sounded like he meant exactly what he’d said. And the fact I’d never in my life set eyes on him before didn’t appear to make a awful lot of difference to his thinkin’ neither. I kept my hands easy on the saddle-horn and nodded just a hair to show I understood.

“All right, Jube!” he called, glancin’ over towards the stand of oak and hickory what run alongside that little stretch of sand road there between Newnansville an’ Lake City. “C’mon and take his shootin’ iron away from him. And see you do it careful!”

When I’d had a look at Jube out of the corner of my eye, I kind of swallowed hard and sucked in my breath. He was the biggest colored man I’d ever seen. The biggest man of any color. Seven foot an’ upwards if he was a inch. And I didn’t expect he’d run a heap shy of four hundred pounds if anybody was able to get him up on a wagon scales to weigh him. Them overalls he was wearin’ was a deal too small, so the pants legs stopped a good ten inches above his big bare feet. And the muscles bulgin’ from his shoulders an’ arms looked ready to bust clean out of his faded cotton undershirt just any minute.

I mean it was enough to give me pause, and I ain’t exactly no half-growed runt of a feller my ownself. I reckon I plumb near forgot the other gent’s shotgun for a second there, when that live oak in man’s clothing come stridin’ out of the woods towards me.

He moved right swift for a big man, too. Never took his red-rimmed eyes off me for a instant while he stepped up and yanked my Dragoon Colt from its holster an’ throwed it on the ground. Didn’t even bother unhookin’ the leather thong from around the hammer before he done it. Just snapped it in two like a piece of ole rotten thread.

I’d a mind to say somethin’ about that. But I didn’t hardly get the chanct before I felt myself bein’ lifted up off my ole roan horse and tossed down in the dirt on the other side away from my six-shooter. And it come right close to makin’ me mad.

“Look-a here,” I said, rollin’ over and spittin’ sand out from between my teeth. “What the dag-gone Hell do you-all think you’re …”

That’s ’bout as much as I got to say before Jube crossed behind the Roan and swung a mighty kick from the hips, bruisin’ a couple ribs and leavin’ me all curled up an’ croakin’ whilst I tried to get my wind back. Them feet of his was rock hard from goin’ without shoes for what I expected was prob’ly his entire life. And he was aimin’ a second one at my head when the man with the shotgun took a step closer and got his attention.

“Hold on there, Jube. Think about what you’re doin’. We don’t want him so bad messed up that he can’t make it back to the hammock under his own steam. Be way too much trouble to tote him.”

The big Negro nodded thoughtfully. Then he set up an’ smashed another powerful kick to my ribs, instead of my head. I hadn’t got enough breath left over from that to swear good. But I was a-thinkin’ it.

The man with the shotgun come up and stood lookin’ down at me.

“You led us a merry chase, Barkley. Over a hundred mile from where we started out at. And nigh onto two weeks beatin’ through the brush a-lookin’ for you. But I reckon Mister Ravenant’ll be pleased to see you onct we get back. Ain’t many big an’ strong as you, what can stand up to the life an’ still do the work of a couple men.” He glanced across the road to where my roan horse stood, nibblin’ at some leaves with his ears pricked and a watchful look in his eyes.

“Wonder you was able to find yourself a hoss and a outfit like that, shape you was in when you lit out. Stole ’em from some homesteader, more’n likely.” He shrugged. “Don’t matter a’ awful lot I reckon. They’ll belong to Mr. Ravenant after we bring ’em home to him.”

I was beginnin’ to get my wind back a little bit now, and I still had a couple, three things to explain to these fellers if they’d give me half a chanct. One of ’em was that Ole Roan an’ me had seen a good big piece of the country together, and I didn’t cotton to no Mr. Ravenant nor anybody else settin’ hisself up to appropriate him for his private use. And what was more important at the moment maybe, was how clear it was to me that they’d got me plumb mistook for some other gent named Barkley.

I eased myself up onto one elbow with a effort, keepin’ a eye on Jube and his partner’s shotgun both whilst I was doin’ it. Then I tried to make ’em understand the way things was, in as reasonable a voice as I could manage. Which come out right then to be a kind of a whisperin’ croak.

“Look here,” I said, “I reckon maybe you-all made some kind of a mistake. See, I ain’t …”

Well, it was clear neither one of them gents was in much of a listenin’ mood. ’Cause the man with the scatter-gun looked up at Jube and nodded. Then that big Negro reached out and smacked me acrost the mouth with all his might, forward and back, usin’ a hand what felt like it was made out of spring steel. I noticed he was missin’ a couple joints from his fingers when he done it, but that didn’t hold him back a bit when it come to rattlin’ my brain cage from here to yonder.

When I’d shook the sparklin’ lights out of my eyes enough to where I could cuss, he did it again.

“Shut up,” the shotgun gent said mildly, whilst I spit blood and felt around a couple loose teeth with my tongue. “If we want any talkin’ from you, we’ll ask for it.”

I looked from him to his colored compadre and back again, thinkin’ real particular thoughts about what I’d a mind to do to both or either of ’em whenever I got the chance. And I hoped I would. But for the time bein’ it ’peared a whole heap smarter to just keep my ideas to myself.

“You got him, Purv?” There’d been this sound of a horse comin’ up the road behind me for a little while now. But I hadn’t paid it much mind till that voice spoke up, followed by a swish of linen skirts as the rider jumped to the ground. “You didn’t hurt him bad, did you?”

I jerked my head around and come right close to bitin’ through my tongue when I’d got a look at who the speaker was. She was one of the prettiest little things I ever did see. Maybe nineteen or twenty, with long black hair an’ shinin’ dark saucers for eyes, her cheeks all flushed an’ pink from the ridin’ and the way she run up so quick to kneel down beside me.

If I was some surprised at seein’ anything that fetchin’ in the company of Mr. Shotgun and big Jube, it weren’t nothin’ to what I felt a minute later, when she grabbed holt of my ears with both hands and leaned forward to plant a big wet kiss right square on my lips. Afterwards she backed off real fast and looked me up an’ down mighty peculiar for a long minute.

“It ain’t him,” she said finally, turnin’ to the man with the shotgun, the one she’d called Purv. Her voice had got awful cold durin’ that couple seconds she was starin’ at me. “You big dumb lunker!” she went on, spittin’ out the words like she was spittin’ out snake venom, “You cotched the wrong man!”

“Huh?” Purv come a step closer, his shotgun still steady on my brisket. “Damnation, Lila. You certain?” He squinted up his eyes and cocked his head over to one side, peerin’ down at my face as though he was seein’ me for the first time. “This-un surely does favor him. Though when you mention it he do seem a couple pounds heavier than what I recall. And maybe a tad shaggier ’round the ears, too. …”

Lila answered him with a word I didn’t think a lady’d ought to know. Then she got up and walked on back to where her horse was restin’ three-legged in the shade. “Don’t you ’spect I’d be able to tell if’n it was him? You think I wouldn’t recognize any man what …” She broke off and spun round on her heel.

“You just go ahead an’ take my word on it. It ain’t him. Now what are we goin’ to do about it?”

The man with the shotgun shifted his feet kind of awkward-like, glancin’ at Jube. “Take him along with us?” he asked, not sounding terrible certain. “He’s a big-un. Could make a right powerful field hand onct we got him broke in right.”

“You know the rules. We don’t take nobody back yonder what might have kinfolks or friends anywheres about this country. It ain’t worth the trouble.” Lila was lookin’ at me kind of thoughtful now. Reminded me of some li’l green frog on a lily pad eyin’ a blue-tail fly. “Uncle’s awful partic’lar about his rules bein’ broke. Myself, I’d hate to be the one to explain it to him.”

“We don’t know nothing ’bout this gent,” Purv answered, a mite peevish it seemed to me. “Prob’ly ain’t got no folks hereabouts nohow. ’Pears to be just some kind of a low-ridin’ drifter.”

Lila smiled a sort of a half smile. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Ain’t nobody else in this whole wide world but me,” I said. “’Less’n you count my daddy an’ eighteen brothers. Ever one of ’em’s half man an’ half gator. With another half piney woods rooter throwed in for good measure.”

I was lyin’ pretty broad, of course. And I reckoned they all knowed it. But on t’other hand, they couldn’t be real sure what was the actual truth neither. And that there was the general idea.

“Well,” Purv says, lookin’ at me all disgusted with his bottom lip poked out, “I reckon we better just kill him then and be done with it. Jube can bury him so deep in these woods them eighteen brothers’ll spend the rest of their natural days lookin’ for a bone big enough to use as a toothpick!”

Lila nodded and glanced at me in a way that made me think she’d a little rather do the deed herself as let Purv at it. And judgin’ from the .38 Colt in that holster at her waist, I’d a idea she wouldn’t have no trouble managin’ it if she took the notion. But then she frowned and shook her head.

“Too many folks hereabouts to take a chanct on shootin’.” She almost sounded disappointed. “I passed a farm house not more’n a half mile back. And they’s a settlement a couple miles further on, this side the river. Never can tell who-all might hear the sound of it and come snoopin’. Likely before we could even get out of the country good.”

“Well …” Purv lifted his eyes up to Jube, who was standin’ over me with his big fists restin’ on his hips, and I saw Lila nod in agreement.

“Jube, honey,” she said, all sweetness an’ smiles. “We need you to kill this man for us. Without no fuss nor callin’ out, but just as quick an’ quiet as you can with your two bare hands.”

I didn’t waste any time lookin’ up at Jube. Weren’t no doubt in my mind he’d do what he was told. Instead, I made a sudden lunge for the gent with the shotgun. Figured if I was to have to die anyhow, I’d at least try an’ fix it so it weren’t neither quiet nor easy for ’em. Just some part of my natural-borned cussedness, I imagine.

Only I didn’t come half as close to layin’ a hand on Purv as I thought I would. When I said that Jube was quick for a big man, I didn’t tell the half of it.

I hadn’t got more’n a foot off the ground when his big paw come down on my right shoulder, clampin’ up so tight I felt my arm turnin’ numb. Then he yanked me back and upwards, throwing his left arm acrost my throat so’s I didn’t even have a chanct to cuss or yell out.

I’d played at this game a time or two my ownself, though. So I turned my head and tucked my chin into my chest almost without thinkin’. But when Jube grabbed a big fistful of hair with his free hand and started in to pull, it hurt so fierce I almost couldn’t keep my wits about me. Just barely managed to kick back with a spurred boot heel and grind it down onto his bare foot.

That colored man was a heap better at followin’ orders than I’d of been at a time like that. ’Cause he didn’t hardly yelp or cry out a-tall. Just made a little sound like a wheezin’ grunt whilst he stepped back an’ throwed me to the ground, usin’ his grip on my hair for leverage. I felt a bunch of it come loose in his fingers ’bout the same time my nose bored into the dirt. A instant later the breath was bein’ crushed out of me by a big heavy knee in the small of my back.

Jube let me have a whoppin’ left and a right to the ears with his open palms, purely out of meanness for the hurt I’d caused him. Then he got his fingers round my throat and started in to squeeze.

I mean I was in some sorry shape at that moment. My mouth was fillin’ up with sand so’s I couldn’t take a breath. Couldn’t hardly twitch my arms or legs, much less turn over with that four hundred pounds of meat an’ gristle pressin’ down on top of me. It weren’t too much longer before my eyes begun to roll up, and I could see orange an’ silver flashes against a real deep shade of velvet black.

After another minute there wasn’t even that. Only a kind of a helpless fallin’ feeling, like I was slippin’ off into some bottomless hole without no way of catchin’ myself.

I reckon I must of faded out there for a pretty good while, what with Jube’s big fingers shuttin’ off my windpipe and his weight pressin’ the air an’ life out of me. If he’d waited another half second before gettin’ up from what he was doin’, I expect I’d of been ever bit as dead as I prob’ly appeared to him an’ Lila right then. But luck was with me, ’cause somethin’ they’d heard was makin’ ’em skittish and anxious to leave out before they could be real certain the job was finished proper.

None of this come into my head right away, you understand. It weren’t until I felt a woman’s fingers goin’ through my pockets real quick and thorough that I begun to even halfway recollect where I was. Then I could hear Lila’s harsh whisper as she called out to the others:

“Mount up and let’s ride! That buggy’ll be showin’ itself over the rise yonder in just another couple minutes!”

It didn’t take no partic’lar effort for me to keep lyin’ real still like the corpse they thought I was. Her voice got fainter when she stood up and moved off into the road. “Purv, you got a lead rope on that roan? All right then, let’s be travelin’!”

While the sounds of their harness an’ hoofbeats faded out to the south, I decided to see could I drag my hands up underneath me and push my shoulders a couple inches off the ground. Turned out that weren’t near the easy job it appeared at first glance. Took me a couple, three tries to manage it, and then it seemed like my head wasn’t stayin’ attached to my body the way it was accustomed to a mite earlier. I couldn’t hardly keep my eyebrows from scrapin’ the dirt.

After another minute I gagged an’ coughed up a mouthful of earth and sandspurs. Then I rolled real slow over onto my back.

The sky was a pale robin’s egg blue, with only a couple fleecy clouds away off in the distance. It was a right pretty sight, and I just let myself lay there, breathin’ kind of shallow and thinkin’ how lucky I was to look up an’ see any kind of a sky one more time. Finally I begun to notice the clip-clop an’ rattle of some kind of a rig movin’ down the road towards me.

When it got up close enough to make stirrin’ worth the effort, I turned my head to find out who my new visitors was.

What I seen was this brand new lookin’ surrey, all shiny black with fringed tassels an’ black leather seats, being drawed by a high-steppin’ charcoal gelding what had these red ribbons tied in its mane and tail. I got a real close look at that outfit when it slowed down for a couple seconds to steer past where I was sprawled there in the sand.

“Hey!” I croaked, tryin’ to push myself up onto one elbow but not quite able to manage it. “Hey, mister!” The voice what come out of my crushed windpipe weren’t hardly much stronger than a whisper.

This gent in a white straw hat an’ broadcloth suit peered back over his shoulder at me, his face all twisted up like he’d just finished a big old dinner of lemon seeds an’ pickles. Then he turned round and whipped his gelding into a trot, mutterin’ something real spiteful ’bout “drunken Southern trash” to the woman on the seat next to him. Just before they went out of sight round the bend up ahead, I heard her answer him with a couple remarks of her own, what had to do with “in-breeding,” and somethin’ sounded to me like “Miss Seegy Nation.”

And there I was again, all by my lonesome an’ feeling helpless as a new-hatched sparrow in a yard full of chicken snakes. I figured it was gettin’ to be a plumb miserable world whenever a hurt man couldn’t even expect no help nor sympathy from passin’ travelers.

After a little while I got up the strength to hitch myself into a sittin’ position, with my arms hugging my knees and my chin restin’ on top of ’em. I sat there for a time longer, takin’ in a couple deep breaths what made me want to yell out from the pain in my ribs, before finally openin’ my eyes. When I’d had a quick glance up an’ down the road, I begun to take stock.