‘You were very young when we married. I used to think about it in the War…Sometimes, do you know, one of the fellows would get married…They seemed so young; like children, often. And sometimes I would think: that is the age Lucia was.’
‘I was old enough to decide. Or I thought I was.’
‘Once you told me I was a soul mate. It did not prove true. Did it?’
‘Con…’
‘There is nothing to be afraid of. I promise. Speak honestly.’
‘I suppose…if it did not prove true, it was not true for either of us. It seems a very long time ago now.’
‘Yes. A long time ago. It has all gone so quickly.’
‘And you had already met your soul mate long before you met me. In Tasmania. It must have been terrible to leave her.’
He hesitates. Touches the window, as though he finds the cold glass strange. ‘I do not believe in the idea of a soul mate any more. I don’t know that I ever did, not truly. When I was in prison I used to hope that I would live to be extremely old…To have all that time given back, do you know…But I don’t hope that now. Damnedest thing. Not that one should want actually to die, of course. More that one would not be afraid.’
‘Don’t say such things, Con. They are tempting of fate.’
‘Fate…Yes…We must not tempt that.’
He takes a drink of water. They are silent for a time.
‘I know you wish to go home – it is not very safe – but since you do want to go, I can arrange a posse of bodyguards. They will be men I trust. I shall ask John Calhoun to lead them. He is a good man, intelligent. They will see you to Salt Lake City. Perhaps, soon afterward, the stage route will reopen. They say that the weather will break.’
‘I can stay until there is news of the boy. You should not be alone.’
‘It’s generous of you. But no, you had better go soonest. It will only be more difficult to delay.’
‘All right. If you think it best…I will go in the morning.’
‘Yes, best to be cleaner. It will only be more difficult to delay. These things can be done in a civilized manner. You would like to be home for Christmas, I am sure. Estefanía and your father should be glad to see you again. You will need them now. You must let them help you a little. You are sometimes too independent, if you will permit me to say so. You must try to accept their support.’
‘You do not wish? – I mean Christmas is…If you wanted me to wait?’
‘Better to be brave. We will be thankful for it in the close. I will write – if you wish it – to your father in a while. There will be the matter of your settlement to be returned and so on. And the legal aspects. I shall write to the lawyer. We have land, still, in Ireland. There is the house at Dublin. I can arrange for the trustees to see to everything.’
‘We should rest a little while, then…I should go to my room.’
‘There was something I wanted to say to you.’
‘It is very late, Con. We can talk tomorrow, before I go.’
‘One night in the War, I was in Washington alone. A girl looked at me admiringly. I was lonely and afraid. It was the night before they thought that the rebels would come. And all would be lost. Do you understand?’
‘Con – ’
Tears are streaming in the grooves of his face. A sight she has never seen. His anger, his laughter, his want, his fearfulness. Lust. Pride. Other feelings called sins. The tears he wipes away with the back of his hand.
‘There is nothing I need be told, Lucia. Nothing at all. There is nothing you could say, and nothing you could do that could prevent me from loving you the rest of my life and after my death, if that is possible. You are the very finest person I have ever known. It has blessed my life to know you – even the little I have. And I am sorry that I was not the husband you deserved. It was my fault – not yours. It has all been my fault.’
‘…Con…’
‘I should like to sleep beside you a last time…May we do that, at least?’
He crosses to his wife. His head is in her hands. Cold wind from the north in the cottonwood outside. The creak of withstanding too long. Some matches are made in Heaven, so poets believe. This one was made on earth.
CHAPTER 67
APOLOGIA
I have wronged you, yes; I do not apologize.
You did not deserve betrayal. I do not apologize.
I am sorry, yes; I do not apologize.
I will never wrong you more. I do not apologize.
What is done is done. I do not apologize.
I ask your forgiveness. I do not apologize.
Apology is an asking for the speaking of lies –
To be told it does not matter.
I do not apologize…
Fragment in Lucia’s notebook
Redemption Falls
November, 1866
CHAPTER 68
O GOD PROTECT MY CHILD
A plea
REWARD
$5,000 (IN GOLD)
A BOY was abducted from the northeastern outskirt of Redemption Falls on Monday, November 21st, at about quarter of five of the evening, while he was walking a pony at Joseph’s Field. He has not since been seen, despite searches of the surrounding counties.
The perpetrator of this EVIL, whose name is known to all, has added to his crimes, which already were INNUMERABLE, the taking of a troubled & friendless child from the only mother and father he had.
Every man in this Territory, no matter his party, will REVILE THIS DESPICABLE ACT. Every woman will repudiate it. Every American will disown it. Every neighbor is implored by Governor & Mrs O’Keeffe: think on your own children, their happiness & safety. Is there anything you know, or suspect, of this wrong? Be it ever so small, will you impart it to the authorities, or to some trusted person, for example, of religion?
This man himself we here entreat: whatsoever you have done in a time of War, fall not to that INFAMY where the child-hurter must dwell, despised by the world forever. Think of your mother & father, who gave you life. Think of the name of Ireland.
The Governor offers to treat with you, AT ANY PLACE in this Territory; at any time, & in any circumstance. He is ready to surrender his person into your custody, in place of the boy, if required.
We implore that any tiding of the boy be communicated without delay to Governor O’Keeffe or his marshals. A CONSIDERABLE REWARD is offered WITHOUT CONDITION. This is an innocent child that has done no wrong.
In conclusion: it has been evident that a number of the citizens have of late formed the view that a change of governorship is wanted. For the common good of the Territory, the Acting Governor now proposes to step aside, and has tendered his resignation to Washington. THE HOUR THAT THE BOY IS RETURNED TO REDEMPTION FALLS, THE GOVERNOR & MRS O’KEEFFE VOW TO TAKE HIM & REMOVE FROM THE TERRITORY. They undertake, further, never to return, & to accede to any other stipulation.
JOHN F. CALHOUN
Distraught would not cover it. Man was out of his mind. Don’t believe he slept more than a couple hours all that week. Seen him up in the roof any hour of the night. Prowl the outskirts with a rifle. Walking arpents of prairie. Waiting for sun-up, so’s he could start searching again. That was one week I don’t care to remember.
And we turned that Territory downside up. As best we could, with only the number of men we had. Farmsteads. Houses. Under bridges. Barns. The islands on Lake Liverpool. The reservations. Ever place. Got a tracker – a Blackfoot. Couldn’t pick up no trail. Got dogs. Same story. Nothing.
And I guess for a week or ten days, I thought it might work out all right. But then it come to a fortnight and still no word. And I pretty much was coming to one conclusion. I just didn’t want to be the one had to tell him.
Then your aunt come down to the jail that Sunday morning and ast me come up to the house. I could see she’d been crying and you don’t like to see that. She told me the news. She was cut-up.
I quit whatever I was at and went along with her to the house. Because I always had a liking
for Lucia as a person. And I didn’t care for the talk about whatever went on. You ever heard of a marriage where the parties was always saints, that’s a marriage to put in a storybook.
Weren’t too pretty at the house. I don’t care to talk about it much. He was sittin in the dark with the shutters all closed. You can imagine it I guess…No, I won’t go into the details if it’s all the same. Let’s just leave it at saying it did not look good.
I got coffee in the man, but it didn’t do. I said something like: ‘Con, this gonna have to stop, or that bottle be your end’ and other things of that nature I guess…Cause I lost my own marriage through the bottle, so I knew. But there wasn’t no talking to him that day.
Well, the house-gal, Elizabeth, come in after while and says there’s a stranger out front to see the Boss. And that was a surprise, cause it was a Sunday morning like I said, and most people would be home with their kin. And I probably told her to scoot more sharp than I shouldof, but anyway here she come back in, and said this bub at the door, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
It was Johnny Creed come in. I knew him, sure. Well, I knowed who he was; I’d see him in town, but we wasn’t what you might call too good friends. Been a sharpshooter with the rebs out of Biloxi, Mississippi. I guess he’d be what, twentyfive, twentysix at the time. Big feller. Scotch-Irish. Worked a claim up by Eliot’s. Kind of kept to himself, or mostly.
Said some of the boys and him got to talking things over. Yeah, yeah, other Confederates. We had plenty in the town. Johnny didn’t reckon it was right, what happened with the kid being took. He was married himself. Very pretty wife. Cajun girl she was; she’d had their second daughter that year. And his wife, she encouraged him to come on up. Cause she didn’t think it was right.
Said if there was anything he could do, why, he wanted to do it. Had one or two other rebel men felt about the same way. And this wasn’t no choirboy, I can tell you for sure. Killed a whole lot of Yankees, Johnny Creed in the War. Was in it at Fredericksburg, Marye’s Heights you know. Could shoot the damn date off the nickel in your pocket. Plenty of Con’s boys he put in the grave at Fredericksburg. Irish as he was himself…And some of those boys, those was boys and no more…Sixteen, seventeen…Children.
No, I don’t remember them shaking hands. I suppose maybe they did. Con told him he appreciated that he come on up. And Johnny said sure and went home.
I don’t suppose I should say it. But sure. Con cried. And I was crying myself…Powerful thing…[Subject becomes distressed. Brief silence before continuing.]…Even talking about it now…As you see, upsets me yet…Me and him sat in the dark…And we cried, all right…
Because Johnny didn’t know it…But the news come the night before. The kiddie’d been found hanged in Canada.
CHAPTER 69
JESUS, JESUS, DON’T LET ME DIE ALONE
Obituary for a soldier of the rebels
* * *
IN MEMORIAM A BOY
After midnight on Saturday last, a certain man of the North called at the home of Mr J.K. Trevanion, editor of this publication. The testimony he gave would appear to corroborate certain rumors, which had gone about the Territory in recent days. The little guest who came among us we shall never see more in this world. This man, who is known of old to Mr Trevanion, had himself seen the child’s remains.
Mr Trevanion went at once to the Gubernatorial House and had the hard duty of conveying what he had been told to the Acting Governor and Mrs O’Keeffe. They bore it with bravery and asked privacy for their grief. This notice is published, with the Acting Governor’s assent, to put a cease to all further speculation.
We have lived through War. We have lived through sorrow. Little thought we then, that we should live us to know the most monstrous wickedness ever done in this Territory. All of us, without exception, are diminished by this barbarity. Some, who did not welcome, have most on our conscience.
This paper has not seen eye-to-eye with the Acting Governor and his associates. We have opposed him zealously at every turn. We retract not one word: that is the way of a Free Press. We do not affect regret that he shall soon quit this country. But this morning, as human brothers, we offer him our prayers, as must every Christian person in this Territory.
The prayers of a friend are easily tendered. The prayers of a foe may matter more. Let us pause, this day, to remember in mourning:
Jeremiah Mooney
boy soldier, Louisiana.
Aged 12 or 13.
R.I.P
* * *
CHAPTER 70
AND MY TRUE LOVE EVER QUIT ME, I SHOULD SURELY FIND ANOTHER
The last surviving pages of the cartographer’s journal
A change of heart – Future prospects considered
A restless horse – A challenge
Violently windy day. Riders wearing kerchiefs and bandannas. Grit and broken twigs like confetti.
Saw party of his men searching a house near New Blackheath. Heavy-handed. Rifle-shots in the air. Threatened family with eviction and burning if they did not tell. Pulled out the little sticks of furniture + smashed them in the yard. Had been rumored to have hidden the boy.
Saw notice they were posting re reward & c. Took a few for my satchel. I don’t know. Feel sorry for the poor bastard. Every rumor has the child hanged. Devil’s own work. To do such to a child.
Beggar on the road told me he saw them in Edwardstown two days ago. On their way to church. He looked broken; she brave. Will return to New York, thence to Paris it is said. The French admire him, apparently.
Have not the stomach to go on with it, now. Whole scheme seems the devil’s work. Seeing her again, I don’t know, rather unsettled one. More prim than I had remembered. Tighter. Tougher. And one never thought she loved him, but for some reason she appears to. Madwoman + Madman = Madness squared.
Suppose shall return to the town, preparation of survey, investigation of piracy, & cetera. Who knows where might lead. Proprietor of profitable hotel and saloon. Fluent German not beyond one. Quiet little life. And many attendant benefits.
Guten Morgen, my dear. You would care to be employed here? Won’t you join me in the parlor? Frau Winterton is occupied just at present. Come, come, sit by Uncle. That’s right. A little closer. Now Liebchen: let us talk aboutyou .
Blessing, in one degree, that it all came to nothing. For had rarely truly liked her, if honest. Fond of her in a way, + understood her, I think, but thought of marrying her sans benefits rather chilling. Felt Pappy would pony up tin enough to guarantee a fat life – money buyeth not happiness, this, alas, we know, but it does buy a better quality of misery. But he might not have, after all. Said to be a hard one. Even if he did: life sentence.
Stunning to look upon, must be gasp-inducing undraped. Once would have been pleasant, certainly. But rather too indomitable and insolent for my liking; overly-determined, also a portion on the thin side. Prefer a bit of meat. Skinny females untrustworthy. Goodly; knowledgeable; but too well-read for a woman. Gives them uppity ideas and never stop talking. Give a man the blue mopes, a tongue as incessant. Would never have known peace. And then what?
Bastard? Yes. Then, God, stand up for bastards.
Fellow passed me on a horse. Grunted a salutation, as did I. And I noticed something strange as he did. Raised his hand briefly to tip at his hat.
His wedding-ring finger was missing.
I wheeled about. He appeared to hear me turn, & took off at a gallop toward the north. I followed him hard but my own Bobby was very weary and I could not keep the other in my sight. Several shots, I think four, rang toward me in a volley as I made a turn in the road. Could not see the position of the gunman, at first thought he must be in some trees, but then, ahead of me on a bridge, he loomed into view. Small. Twisting as he fired at me, still riding hard away. Kept after him as best I could.
Evaded me but I followed his dust round a bend in the track and down into a field of broken mine-works. Nobody in the field. At least none I could see. Cre
pt about for a while. Many broken equipments. Very thick grass. But I…[Page of manuscript rotted away.]
…the mouth of an abandoned tunnel, perhaps the shaft of a mine. Could hear the echo of water, see the mangled steel of rails. Queer fungi growing all about the mouth.
Considered entry. Did not seem wise. Had a strange realization, of piercing intensity: nobody on the earth was aware of where I was. Could be killed in two minutes. No one would ever know. Was not her I was thinking about, then.
Retreated to coppice and tied up Old Bobby. But he was restless, stampy, would not be soothed. Considered shooting him but difficulty that they might have heard the shot. Also, to be without him could present extreme peril, since no mode of escape if attack came on; but his fretfulness was compromising my position extremely and nothing I did would calm him. In the end took the decision to unloose and scare him. He bolted toward the lakeshore to the north-east. Felt exceptionally vulnerable without my good old fellow. Yet hoped he would not drift back.
Lay covered some hours with eyes trained on the field. Darkness approached. Must have fallen asleep.
Moonlight. A girl came out, largely pregnant,accompanied by the boy . Definitely him. Recognized his clothing. Appeared weak enough health. Coughing badly.
Too young to be his mother. But resemblance. Cousin? She led him to a ditch that I had not previously noticed.
The night very silent. Two simpleminded men. Idiots. Innocent. Leader must be still underground.
Was thinking of how they trained us to lie still ten hours, a thing I had found almost impossible. Story about Irishman a fellow once told me. Hid him in a bog-hole fourteen days and nights while the redcoats were burning his townland. Would sink him into the slime if he heard them approach. Breathe through a length of straw.
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