Mud Creek

by Kelly Ferguson

  “I do believe that sun got to your head today, Jarvis.” Dalton laughed. “That preacher ain’t showed his face ‘round poor white folks in Jug Fork since Bully put that shotgun to the back of his head. He just hovers over those lil’ ole ladies round the quilting frame and hides out at the church. I heard he’s even been turning down fried chicken on Sundays since that meeting. He is ‘bout as worthless as a tit on a boar hog.”

  They all agreed.

  “How ‘bout the high Sheriff Bigelow?” Cleo offered.

  “Hell, Cleo,” Dalton spit across the road ditch, “he beats his ole lady from what I hear. He’d come out and give Bully one of his prize trophies. From what I can tell, we’re back where we started,” Dalton said.

  “Mr. John would have Mr. Bully cutting firewood in July if he had his way ‘bout this beating women’n and chillens’n and carrying on,” Jarvis said.

  “Well, Mr. John ain’t here and the three of us are.” Dalton brought the issue back to the point. “How’s ‘bout this? Y’all git this cotton up to the gin, git your supper, and I’ll meet you in two hours at that lil’ ole cattle pond where they found that Willard fella’s truck. We’ll give Bully a talking to.”

  “Cleo, I’m in. You coming?” Jarvis asked.

  “My head’s saying no, but my heart be saying yes. I’ll be there.”

  “Cleo, you’re a good man!” Dalton reached out and shook the big black man’s hand. “Let’s git moving.”

  Jarvis and Cleo climbed back on the Farmall. Dalton moved out toward home, anxious to see Mavis and share the news. When Dalton stepped on the front porch, Rover greeted him with a lick. Dalton could smell fried okra and fresh baked cornbread coming from the kitchen. When he entered the house, the smells intensified. Dalton felt starved. He found Mavis and Alice Fae sitting at the kitchen table.

  “Hey, darling, what’s cooking?

  “Just the usual, sweetie. Some black-eyed peas, fried okra, cornbread, and some pork chops.”

  “Oh, that sounds good to me! Alice Fae, are you making it, dear?”

  “I’m better than I was this morning.”

  “Where’s Jessie?” asked Dalton, looking around.

  “He’s back there with his head stuck in those books of Doc Grasson’s. I never seen anything like it,” Mavis answered.

  “Well, I was able to catch up with Jarvis and Cleo, a while ago, and we’re going to talk to Bully, tonight.”

  “Oh, gee Dalton, I don’t know.” Alice Fae squirmed. “Maybe I just need to git on home and not do this.”

  “Alice Fae, there you go, again,” Mavis jumped in. “Ain’t nothing going to git better ‘till something changes, and you’re barking at the moon if you think things are going to git better ‘cause you just show back up.”

  “Mavis, I’m just scared there’s going to be some trouble or something.” Alice Fae’s chest blotched.

  “Damn it, Alice Fae, there already is trouble. Besides, me, Jarvis, and Cleo just want to git Bully’s attention.”

  “Well, I just don’t want no trouble,” Alice Fae muttered, Sweat formed on her upper lip.

  “Alice Fae, there ain’t going to be trouble unless Bully wants trouble.” Dalton said.

  Mavis called Jessie to supper and the four gathered around the table. Dalton lit into Mavis’s cooking with a vengeance, while Mavis fussed over everyone. Jessie educated Dalton about the Battle of Fredericksburg. Alice Fae picked at her plate.

  After supper, Dalton grabbed his hat, lantern, and shotgun. He kissed Mavis on the cheek and promised to return soon. Jessie asked where he was going, and Dalton said something vague about having to go see a man about a dog. He slipped out. The fall evening was crisp and cool. A quarter moon hung above the horizon. Bullfrogs and lightning bugs augmented the evening. A lone whip-o-will’s call interrupted the sound of Dalton’s boots moving through the gravel along the roadside.

  Jarvis and Cleo were waiting when Dalton arrived at the cattle pond. The three men shook hands and moved out toward Bully’s. If there was hesitancy about their mission, it was never mentioned. When Bully’s house came into view, a single light could be seen through the front window. Smoke came from the chimney. Bully was home. The three men approached the house. Jarvis and Cleo stopped at the porch and Dalton climbed the steps and knocked on the door. They could hear Bully moving toward the door. I hope Bully is not full of Wild Cat whiskey, Dalton thought.

  When Bully appeared at the door sober, Dalton breathed a sigh of relief. Bully seemed surprised at the sight of Dalton. While Alice Fae and Mavis were best of friends, Dalton and Bully, not so much. When Bully spoke, he turned to see Jarvis and Cleo standing near the porch.

  “Hey, fellas. What you boys up to this evening?”

  “Bully, this ain’t no social call. We’re here to discuss a situation that’s got the three of us all balled up,” Dalton said.

  “Dalton, what the hell are you talking about?” Bully stepped out on the porch.

  “Mr. Dalton be talking ‘bout you going off on ‘lil Jessie and Miss Alice Fae, Bully.” Jarvis dropped the Mr. while addressing Bully for the first time in twenty-six years.

  “Where is Jessie and Alice Fae?” Bully questioned.

  “They are at my house, and they’re going to stay there until we come to some sort of understanding, Bully. I’m sick and tired of seeing Alice Fae and Jessie getting the hell beat outta them and showing up on my doorstep. That’s why we’re showing up on your doorstep.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, but since when did niggers and poor white trash start messing in my family’s business?” Bully said.

  “Shut up and sit down, Bully.” Dalton spoke. He raised his Fox double barrel straight toward Bully.

  “Goddamn, Dalton! Point that thing somewhere else!” Bully complied. Jarvis and Cleo stepped forward.

  “Mr. John would be seeing red with how you be carrying on since God decided to take him to the other side, Bully,” Jarvis said.

  “God sure has a sense of humor,” Bully laughed while looking toward the heavens. “He kills Mr. John, leaving me with that witch Miss Lillian. She takes me outta them fields and puts me in pig shit up to my knees. I can’t walk like I used to, and I got more people putting guns in my face than Carter’s got liver pills. I don’t even feel like a man anymore. Sometimes, I wish it was me who had died that night.”

  “You shouldn’t be bad mouthing God, Mr. Bully,” Cleo said, speaking up for the first time.

  “To hell with God, Cleo!”

  “Look here, Bully,” Jarvis spoke. “We all miss Mr. John, but we got to git on past it and move on. His passing left a hole that won’t fill up overnight. We got to do the best we can.”

  “What if this is the best I can do, Jarvis? My knuckles have taken a beating since Mr. John died. I just go around hitting walls and trees. It takes the aching away from my gut for just a moment. The Wild Cat does the same thing.”

  “Problem is, Bully, that’s not all you be hitting while you been drinking Wild Cat. You be hitting on ‘lil Jessie and Miss Alice Fae, too.”

  “According to Alice Fae, you git crazy when you git that stuff in ya, Bully,” Dalton added.

  “I still don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout. I ain’t no saint, but I have no recollection of beating nobody.”

  “Well, I’ve seen the scars and you have too, Bully,” Dalton countered. “I’m scared the scars you can’t see are bigger, though, ‘specially when it comes to ‘lil Jessie. You need to get a grip, Bully.”

  “Look, Bully,” Jarvis spoke, “Cleo and me been talked ‘bout you not being in the fields and all. We believe that putting in a crop is harder than getting it out. If this farm’s gonna have a chance of pulling through, we’ve got to get you in those fields next spring. You’re the only one Mr. John taught to do the planting. Me and Cleo thought we might get our courage up and talk to Miss Lillian ‘bout it. Fighting a wild hog is more inviting, but we all gonna be up a creek if we miss a crop.”r />
  “Jarvis, you know I’m dying down at that barn. I belong out there with you, and anything you and Cleo can say might just help.”

  “That don’t change why we be here tonight, Bully. Cleo and me will talk to Miss Lillian, but you got to get yourself together. Fair enough?”

  “Fair enough, Jarvis.” Bully turned to Dalton. “Tell Alice Fae to git herself on home.”

  “So, Bully, we got a deal? You won’t be going off on those two anymore?”

  “Yea, Dalton, we got a deal.”

  Dalton stuck out his hand, and Bully shook it. Jarvis and Cleo extended their callous hands and Bully shook theirs, also.

  Alice Fae was a nervous wreck knowing Dalton was down at her house talking to Bully. She paced back and forth, and blotches broke out over her chest and face. She rang her hands and muttered half audible prayers to herself. Jessie was back in the bedroom with his books. Mavis finished the kitchen chores.

  “Alice Fae, do you and Bully ever have sex?” Mavis ask.

  “Mavis! I’m worried sick and you want to talk ‘bout sex! Shame!”

  “Well, I never hear you talking about it or nothing. If a man whooped up on me, he would not be touching my damn waistband!”

  “Well, Mamma said you had to give it to ‘um or they would git mean as the dickens. I give it to him and give to him and he’s still mean. I figured I wasn’t doing it right or something.”

  “Alice Fae, do you ever do it ‘cause you want to do it?”

  “Oh, Lordy no, Mavis. Mamma would kill me if she knew I was liking it.”

  “Alice Fae, your mamma doesn’t even speak to you, so what the hell are you talking about?”

  “I swear Mavis, the minute I started to like it, she would know and come knocking on my door. I just know she would.”

  “Mamma, what are y’all talking about?” Jessie asked, poking his head from the bedroom door.

  Alice Fae lit up like a Christmas tree.

  “Ooh! nothing honey. You just enjoy your books, dear. Mavis and me are just talking ‘bout girl stuff. Now, go on.”

  Jessie closed the door and buried himself back into his books.

  “I would just die if Jessie knew we did it, Mavis,” Alice Fae whispered. She attempted to regain her composure.

  Mavis became serious. Her brow furrowed.

  “It’s none of my business, Alice Fae, but I wouldn’t be bedding no man down until he was good to me. I enjoy sex with Dalton ‘cause Dalton’s good to me, and I like to be good to him back. Besides, I like how it makes me feel, and I don’t give a damn what my mamma thinks. If he were mine, and I’m glad he’s not, he’d be having to git his loving down at the barn until he was good to me.”

  “Mavis! Shame!”

  Alice Fae headed for the door for some fresh air. Dalton walked in.

  “Oh, Dalton, what happened?” Alice Fae blurted out.

  “Well, Alice Fae, we had our little talk. It went pretty good, I thought.”

  Dalton reached over and gave Mavis a peck.

  “Ain’t he a stud, Alice Fae?” Mavis beamed.

  “Dalton, don’t keep me hanging, please.”

  “He got a little sassy, at first, but with about seven hundred pounds of white trash, niggers, and buck shot, he settled right down. He promised he would git a grip and quit going off on you and Jessie. We shook on it, and he told me to tell you and Jessie to git on home. That’s about it,” Dalton summarized.

  “Well, I feel all out of sorts. On the one hand, I’m glad, and on the other, I’m scared to death. I won’t know what to say to him,” Alice Fae said to no one in particular. She stared out the window.

  “Hell, Alice Fae, git on down there and work it out. He ain’t no bear; he’s still your husband,” Dalton urged. “Besides, if he starts anything, you come see me, again.”

  “Dalton, you are a stud.” Alice Fae pressed her blushing cheek to Dalton’s.

  Alice Fae again thanked Mavis and Dalton and retired to the bedroom to get Jessie and his books and to start the two-mile walk home.

  “Jessie, darling, get your books and stuff; we’re going home.”

  Jessie did not respond.

  “Jessie, did you hear me? Git you books and stuff; we’re going home.”

  Jessie did not acknowledge his mother. He rocked back and forth. A slow cadence sound emanated from his lips.

  “Load! Ram! Fire! Swab!” Jessie screamed out at the top of his lungs. Wild eyed with gritted teeth, Jessie jumped from the small bed and repeated his mantra, “Load! Ram! Fire! Swab!”

  “Jessie, Jessie, honey! What’s the matter, honey?”

  “Load! Ram! Fire! Swab! Git outta the line of fire, woman! “Load! Ram! Fire! Swab!” Jessie yelled.

  Alice Fae ran into the kitchen where Dalton and Mavis sat at the table. They, too, heard Jessie’s yells.

  “Mavis and Dalton, come quick. ‘Lil Jessie is talking outta his head or something. He doesn’t look or sound like ‘lil Jessie anymore.”

  Mavis and Dalton burst into the room where Jessie pulled the bed around to face the window.

  “Load! Ram! Fire! Swab! Git outta the line of fire for the last time!” Jessie screamed. His voice was strong and compelling: his back ramrod straight. His chin was set, and his eyes were piercing.

  “Jessie, darling! It’s me, your mamma!” Alice Fae cried. She grabbed Jessie and shook him.

  “Git this woman outta my line of fire or I will have her arrested on the spot!” Jessie shouted to Dalton. He ignored Alice Fae.

  Dalton stepped in and pulled Alice Fae away from Jessie.

  “Mavis, take Alice Fae out to the kitchen and let me see if I can talk to him,” Dalton said.

  “Alice Fae, come on, let Dalton talk to him.” Mavis ushered Alice Fae to the door. She attempted to calm Alice Fae’s hysteria.

  “My baby! My baby!” Alice Fae shrieked.

  Mavis managed to remove Alice Fae from the small bedroom. Dalton closed the door behind them.

  “Sir, my name to you, is Private John Starke, serving under Major John Pelham, Chief Artillery Officer for General Jeb Stewart, Confederate States of America.”

  “Not a problem, soldier, not a problem.”

  Dalton threw his hands up in deference to the boy soldier.

  “We are in eminent danger! I need old rags for packing. I need more water for my swab bucket! Git those women to tear up this old bedspread. You, get me more water for my swab bucket.”

  The boy soldier jerked the bedspread off the old iron bed, exposing its feather mattress. He leaped across the room and grabbed the porcelain slop jar from the corner.

  “Water, I need, water!” Jessie said.

  Dalton stuffed the old bedspread under his arm and took the porcelain slop jar thrust at him by the boy soldier.

  “Hurry! Hurry! I’ll hold off these damn Yanks ‘till you git back!”

  Dalton left the bedroom with the bedspread and slop jar. When he entered the kitchen, he barked orders. “Mavis, you and Alice Fae tear this bedspread up while I go fetch some water from the pump.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Dalton? I ain’t tearing up that good bedspread. You gone crazy, too?!”

  “Mavis, don’t give me no mouth, just do as I say!” Dalton slammed the screen door headed for the pump.

  Mavis and Alice Fae could hear Dalton pumping the long handle to the old pump out by the side of the house.

  “I’m lost, Alice Fae. Let’s just all be crazy and tear up this bedspread.” Mavis’s strong hands produced a rip and the two women went in opposite directions, tearing the bedspread in half. Alice Fae jumped with Mavis’s every command.

  Dalton entered the kitchen with a full bucket of water and chastised the women for their meager progress. He entered the bedroom. The boy soldier reloaded.

  “Load! Ram! Fire! Swab!”

  “Private John, here is your water and those rags are coming!” Dalton achieved full compliance with the boy soldier.

  “You are a goo
d man, sir! With folks like you, how can the Glorious South lose!” The boy soldier smiled. “Those Yanks have turned tail, so we can git our provisions ready, in case they git their courage up again.”

  “Listen, Pvt. John, let me git those rags from the women folk and then you and me can have a man-to-man talk. That okay with you?”

  Dalton opened the door and Mavis and Alice Fae fell into the bedroom from pressing against the door.

  “Dalton, what’s going on?!” Alice Fae shouted.

  “Well, soon as I can git those rags, we are going to sit down and have a man to man.”

  “Damn, Dalton, will you git off the rags!” Mavis barked.

  “Mavis, darling, trust me. Remember, I’m a stud.” Dalton grinned.

  He collected the reconstituted bedspread, transformed into artillery packing.

  “Well, don’t be firing no blank, darling,” Mavis retorted.

  Dalton re-entered the bedroom.

  “Pvt. John, these rags to your liking?”

  “Perfect!” The boy soldier took them from his assistant.

  “Pvt John, there’s a guy you need to meet. He knows more about those damn Yankees and their whereabouts than any one in these parts. He’s an old doctor by the name of Doc Grasson. If you are interested, I bet I could git him talking ‘bout troop movements and stuff.”

  “He ain’t a spy, is he?” The boy soldier raised he eyebrows.

  “Oh, no! Pvt. John, he’s got gray in his veins,” along with some morphine, Dalton thought to himself.

  “Well, when can you get me to him?” the boy soldier questioned.

  “Why don’t we wait ‘till daylight and move out?”

  “Isn’t that dangerous, with Yanks crawling?”

  “I got a secret path, so we’ll be okay,” Dalton reassured.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll sleep here with my gun and you wake me at first light,” the boy soldier suggested.

  “That’s fine. You make yourself comfortable, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Dalton rose and slipped out the door into the kitchen. Alice Fae jumped for Dalton again with question after question.

  “Let him answer one, Alice Fae, before you ask him another one.”