Читать книгу Solomon - Marilyn Bishop Shaw - Страница 5

1

June 1866

Father and son sat shoulder to shoulder. Having talked most of the half-mile walk to the river, it was time to get down to business at their favorite fishing hole. Their extra-long lines dropped fourteen feet from the rock bluff to the dark surface of the water and eight more feet to the baited hook in the middle of the river sink. Except for an occasional comment about a missed bite or the size of a catch, the only sound around them was the little rapid that echoed downriver from their perch.

They both jumped when a razor-sharp shot broke their peace.

“What kind of gun is that, Papa?”

A shiver crawled down the Moses Freeman’s spine. “I heard that sound afore, boy, and it ain’t no gun.”

Just then, a long, lanky man on horseback broke through the scrub behind them. The pair was cautious because not many people came through these woods and not all who did could be trusted. Pulling up poles, they stood to face the rider who was still coiling the longest strap young Solomon had ever seen.

“Mornin’ to ya,” said the stranger. Moses Freeman touched his hat in greeting and then put a protective hand on his son’s shoulder. Solomon knew this meant he should hold his peace.

The man stepped from his horse, the coil in his hand, but cautiously didn’t step toward the pair. “I ran into a spittin’ mad bobcat back there. Guess I interrupted your catch. Having any luck?”

Moses hesitated. He knew appearances weren’t always to be trusted. “Got a couple. It’ll take a couple more to make supper.”

Licking his lips instinctively, the stranger smiled. Then, collecting himself and removing his hat, he said, “I’m sorry. My name’s Pete Harker, come down from Madison County way.” The stranger and his horse stood their ground, making sure not to crowd the fishermen.

“Mine be Moses Freeman and this here’s my boy, Solomon.” Trying to hide his suspicions, Moses added, “ ’Bout the finest piece of horse flesh I ever seed, Mister.”

Mr. Harker gave the stallion a rough rub on his blazed forehead and said, “Diamond is about the best piece of horse flesh I’ve ever seen, too, Mr. Freeman. I’m lucky to still have him after all we’ve been through together.” Solomon thought Mr. Harker’s eyes looked sad.

Harker smiled as he noticed that Solomon’s eyes hadn’t left the whip in his hand. He could also tell that Moses didn’t trust him or his whip. He extended his arm, but still didn’t move. “Would you like to touch it, Solomon?”

The boy hadn’t spoken yet. His father nodded slightly and gently released Solomon’s shoulder. “It’s all wrapped ’round itself,” said Solomon.

“That’s right,” Pete explained, “it’s braided in a very particular pattern. Some use a different braid, but I like this one best.” The boy edged forward and ran his small hands over the smooth, even texture of the whip. It was much softer that he’d expected, with a leather-covered wooden handle at one end and a little tail at the other. He couldn’t tell how long it was since it was coiled up, but he figured it was plenty long.

“This thing made that loud noise?” Solomon asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yes, it did,” answered Harker. “It can sound almost like a gun sometimes. Would you like to hold it?”

“Can I, Papa?” Another nod. He could barely wrap his hand around the handle and its weight made the coil drop to the ground. He had no idea what to do next.

“Here, Solomon, let me show you how it works.” Harker stepped clear of the Freemans and circled the whip above his head. It lashed forward and whipped back making an explosion so loud Solomon jumped and covered his ears. Moses cringed taking an involuntary step back, and Solomon’s mouth hung open in wonder. Only Diamond stood undisturbed. He swung the whip several more times, neatly clipping a tree branch each time, and recoiled it. “Think you’d like to learn to do that, Solomon?” asked Mr. Harker.

“Yes, sir, I sure would.” His excitement waned, and he stepped closer to his father. “But I ain’t got money for a thing like that. I shore liked seeing yours though. Thank you, sir.”

“Mr. Freeman, that’s a fine-mannered boy you have there. You must be very proud of him.” Harker had a faraway look in his eyes as he spoke.

“That I am, Mr. Harker, that I am.” Moses still wasn’t sure about Harker, but he didn’t seem so bad. “What brings you this way, mister? We ain’t had a visitor since we got here four month ago.”

Moses shifted nervously. Mr. Harker, in no hurry to ride on, fastened his whip back into its place on his saddle and tied Diamond. “I’ve been in the saddle this long day. Would you mind me biding here until I work the kinks out of my back?”

“Guess you can set a spell while we dig a couple more cats out of the river,” Moses offered after a pause.

Harker lowered his long, lean body onto the bluff, flexed one part of his body at a time, and tried to relax. He told them that he was scouting the area for woods cows, hoping to gather up a small herd to sell over at the coast. “I’m still pretty new to Florida and haven’t been this way, so I thought I’d just light out and ramble a little.”

“Yessir, I’d say they’s some cows, but you got work comin’ if you plan to do any roundin’ up.” Amused, Moses didn’t think Mr. Harker had any idea how scattered and skittish those animals were. Or how rough the land could be. Moses also knew he was just beginning to learn those things for himself.

A half hour later Moses looked skyward and started pulling in their string of fish. “Old sun tell me we best head in or Miss Lela won’t cook these cats, and I’d hate to miss that supper,” he said.

“With a feast like that, you’ll sleep mighty soundly tonight.” Harker knew not to wear out a welcome. He added, “It’s been good resting a mite and visiting with you. I nearly lost track of time myself. I’ve got some more miles to cover before dark.” He found himself in a situation he’d never before faced. He wasn’t sure how to part with these two, but it seemed right that he extend his hand. Moses hesitated, then looked Pete straight in the eye and gave a firm handshake, holding his breath the whole time. “Mr. Freeman,” Pete said. Then he turned to Solomon and became the first man ever to shake his hand. “Solomon, it’s been a real pleasure. I apologize for interrupting your fishing and thank you for letting me sit a while with you. I hope our paths cross again sometime.”

“Mayhap they will, Mr. Harker,” answered Moses as he and his son turned toward the woods and home, “mayhap so.” A little whirlwind twisted around them and spiraled skyward, sending them separate ways.