Mercy

by Richard Turner

It was twilight when they arrived back at the plantation. The mouthwatering aroma of a wild pig cooked over an open fire greeted them.

  "I'll put the horses in the stables for the night," said Thomas as he climbed off his horse.

  Hawkins took his and Cooper's horse's reins in his hand. "Hold on, Thomas, I'll give you a hand."

  "Your sergeant seems like a good man," noted Stone. "How long have you known him?"

  "I've had him by my side for the past two years," replied Cooper. "He may not have much in the way of a formal education, but Sergeant Hawkins has more common sense than anyone I've ever met. If it weren't for him, I'd be dead several times over. I owe him my life."

  "Is he looking for work now that the war is over? I could use a man like him to help run the plantation."

  "Sorry, sir, Sergeant Hawkins and I already have a job with the Freedmen's Bureau for at least the next six months."

  "Well, if he ever tires of working for the government, he can always come here. Please let him know that a job will be waiting for him."

  Cooper chuckled. Stone was not going to let go. "I'll pass on your kind invitation to him."

  "Come, let's go inside and get washed up for dinner. Smells like Mrs. Jackson has prepared a boucherie for us." Stone used the Cajun word for a roast pig as many of his former slaves spoke a mix of English and Cajun French.

  At the back door, they were met by Maurice, who greeted them, and took their hats and gloves from them.

  Captain Cooper will be staying in the guest bedroom tonight," said Stone to his butler. "Please arrange for some hot water to be sent up there right away."

  "Yes, sir," replied Maurice, dryly.

  Cooper knew better than to ask about Hawkins. He wouldn't see him again until the morning. The sergeant would be eating and sleeping with the servants who lived in the back of the mansion.

  An hour later, Cooper walked down the curved staircase and into the main hall.

  A young man dressed in a dark suit with a pressed white shirt and a black bow tie held a silver tray covered with champagne flutes. The young man briskly walked toward him. "Sir, would you like a drink?"

  Cooper could taste the bubbly alcohol in his mouth. At that moment, he wanted a drink more than he ever had. It took all of his willpower to raise a hand and wave off the offer.

  "If you would prefer something else, I can have Jacob fetch you whatever you like," said Stone as he walked out of the parlor.

  "I have to abstain from alcohol . . . doctor's orders," replied Cooper.

  "That is most unfortunate. Mercy Plantation may have seen better days, but her cellar is filled with the finest champagne brought all the way from France before the war." Stone had changed his clothes and now wore a dark gray suit with a white shirt and black tie. The best Cooper had been able to do was brush the dirt from his uniform while one of Maurice's younger servants cleaned and polished his boots for him.

  "Sir, I've been meaning to ask, what is behind the name of the plantation?"

  "Mercy was Mister Legrand's mother's name. When his family established this cotton plantation, they named it after her. Now, please let me introduce you to the rest of the dinner guests," said Stone, leading Cooper into the parlor.

  In the candle-lit room were four people, three men and one woman. Stone smiled and said, "Lady and gentlemen, may I present to you, Captain Robert Cooper of the United States Army."

  A man wearing a plain brown suit with broad shoulders walked over and offered his hand. He had a tanned face, and dark, almost black eyes. "Good evening, sir, my name is Cyrus Eyre. It is a pleasure to meet you."

  "Cyrus is the head overseer of the entire plantation," explained Stone.

  "I am honored," said Cooper as he shook Cyrus' calloused hand.

  The next man to introduce himself was a short, sickly looking man in an ill-fitting gray suit. He wore glasses on his hawk-like nose. "Evening, Captain, I am Henry Legrand. Madame Eliza Legrand is my sister-in-law."

  "Henry's brother, Lawrence, was a colonel in the Confederate Army," explained Stone. "He and his three oldest boys died in the war."

  "I would have joined up too, but my ill health and bad eyesight prevented me from doing so," said Henry.

  "Be glad you didn't, sir," responded Cooper, doubting the man had ever held a gun in his life. "Noble intentions aside, it was murder on an industrial scale."

  "Are you saying the North was wrong to fight a war to free the slaves?"

  Cooper shook his head. "Not at all. It was the right thing to do. I just think the very nature of war has changed. It has become a horrid endeavor. We must find a way to avoid it at all costs in the future or it will destroy us all."

  "Such philosophical words for a man in a soldier's uniform," said the last man in the room. His accent was Cajun.

  "Robert, may I introduce to you Louis Melancon," said Stone. "He is a Baptist minister, who graciously offered to teach the word of the Lord to the farmhands." Melancon was a slender man who stood ramrod straight in his black suit. He looked to be in his late forties and had a stern look on his face. His thinning, greasy hair was combed back on his head.

  "Pastor, it's a pleasure to meet you," Cooper said, extending his hand. Melancon shook Cooper's hand.

  Melancon stepped to one side "Captain, this is my wife, Rose Melancon. She is a teacher who also helps spread the good word."

  Cooper bowed slightly. "My pleasure, Madame."

  Rose was a lovely woman who looked to be a good twenty years younger than her husband. She had milky white skin and pale blue eyes, with curly black hair that hung down to her shoulders. Her dress was as black as pitch.

  She smiled at Cooper. "Captain, I hope your stay here in our parish will be fruitful."

  "Ma'am, if you don't mind me asking, what do you know of my visit?"

  "I teach the young children on the plantation. Your arrival here did not go unnoticed by the workers. Word travels fast among the people here. I hope you find who was behind those awful murders and bring them to justice."

  "So do I, ma'am."

  Cooper looked over at his host. "Sir, I must commend you for what you are doing here. However, I believe there are laws still on the books in this state that prohibit the teaching of Negroes to read and write."

  "It was never unlawful to read to them from the Bible," replied Stone. "If we want them to understand the word of the Lord, then they must also be able to read from His good book. Besides, I consider such a law to be unjust especially now as there are no more slaves in this state."

  "Hopefully, it won't be long before such archaic legislature is struck from the books of our great state," added Louis Melancon.

  "Captain, please don't confuse my actions with those of the pre-war abolitionists who risked their lives to end slavery," said Stone. "What I am doing for the people on my sister's plantation is just good business sense. If all of our freed Negroes were to leave us, we would lose our livelihood. Rather than move north in search of a better life, I'm trying to create a stable one here for the workers and their families."

  "Mister Stone is an enlightened man," said Rose Melancon. "The Lord will reward him in Heaven."

  Cyrus said, "It's not as if we're advocating giving the coloreds the right to vote."

  "That'll be the day," chuffed Henry Legrand. "Darkies smart enough to know who to vote for. Why, the very idea is preposterous."

  Cooper forced a smile but kept his lips firmly sealed.

  A bell chimed in the doorway. "Dinner is served," announced Maurice. In his white-gloved hands was a small silver bell. He stepped aside as Roy Stone led his guests to the dining room.

  Cooper saw there were seven place settings on a long, polished mahogany table. He stood behind a chair while they waited for the last dinner guest to arrive. A couple of seconds later, a pale woman in her early fifties with chestnut-colored hair entered the room. She was wearing a long, black dress that buttoned up around her slender neck.

  Maurice pulled out her chair at the head o
f the table. The woman nodded slightly and took her seat. Once seated everyone else joined her at the table.

  Two young servants walked in and began to pour water into crystal glasses on the dining table.

  Stone stood up and looked over at the family matriarch. "Eliza, I would like to introduce Captain Robert Cooper."

  Cooper stood and bowed slightly. "My pleasure, ma'am."

  Stone and Cooper took their seats while Maurice waved for a young boy carrying a pot filled with soup to come in.

  "Captain, I take it you are here to bring an end to the troubles plaguing our parish?" said Eliza.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "I am sorry that you could not have come sooner. My home is so empty now. I have lost all that I once held dear to me. My poor Andrew would still be alive if he hadn't fallen under the spell of that colored witch."

  "Eliza, please, we've been through this a dozen times already," said Stone. "Andrew wasn't a child. He was old enough to know what he was doing."

  Cooper could feel the palpable tension between the siblings.

  Eliza shook her head. "My dear brother, you're wrong. My broken heart tells me he'd still be here if that little whore hadn't gotten her claws into him."

  The young man serving the soup stopped and looked over at Maurice, unsure what to do. With a nod, the old butler told him to ignore the conversation and carry on with his duties.

  "She wasn't a whore," countered Stone. "Her name was Willow and she had lived her entire life here in this house. She and Andrew had been friends for years."

  "No. I won't hear another word. You're a damned fool, Roy!" screamed Eliza. "I never should have asked you to run my plantation. You've always been too soft on the coloreds." With that, she stood up, threw her cloth napkin onto the table and stormed out of the room.

  Everyone at the table stood and watched her leave.

  "I'm sorry," said Stone. "She hasn't been herself since her son was killed. Please sit down and enjoy your soup. I'll go see to my sister and join you all shortly."

  Cooper took his seat and looked across the table at Cyrus, who was shaking his head. "Is this normal?"

  "No. It's been worse, a lot worse," replied Cyrus. "The woman has been grief-stricken ever since she learned her last living child had been murdered."

  "Still, you have to feel for her."

  "I don't. She's always had a nasty streak in her. If Stone weren't here, Willow's mother, Mrs. Jackson, would have borne the brunt of her wrath and been thrown out of the home she has lived in all her life."

  Cooper dipped his spoon into his soup and tried it. After a long day, the rice and tomato soup tasted delicious. He was about to say something to Cyrus when he noticed no one else was eating. All of their heads had turned toward the windows, looking out onto the plantation's empty fields. A flash of lightning lit up the outside world. A second later, the crash of thunder rolled over the mansion. The look on their faces was a mix of fear and apprehension. It was clear something deeply troubled the people living at the Mercy Plantation.

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