Spit and Grit

by Jeanie P Johnson

  I just shrug, but I think he is right. We find some shops, and the people in the shops look at us like we don’t belong there. Granger ignores them and he buys me a dress and him a suit. Then we take our packages to a hotel, stable our horses, and Granger gets us a room.

  When I walk into the room, I raise my eyebrows. I have never seen anything as beautiful as that room. As soon as we go inside, Granger grabs my shoulders and looks at me.

  “You’ve had enough time to discover it, Mazy. Are you carrying or not?”

  I start to look away and he jerks my head back to him.

  “You are carrying, aren’t you?” he states. “Then I’m marrying you, and you’re not going to stop me! It could be mine as easy as his. It was only a day apart we did it from each other, so you can’t tell.”

  “I can’t let you,” I cry. “What if it’s his?”

  “I don’t give a tinker’s damn, Mazy. I don’t care if I never stuck it in you, and it is his. I’m marrying you, and that is all that there is to it. I know you love me, Mazy, though you try to deny it half the time, and I sure as hell know I love you. That’s all that counts Mazy. Believe me, that’s all that counts.”

  “All right,” I say just to calm him. “But first we find Marvin.”

  “Fine, but for now, we need to take us a hot bath and get rid of these dirty clothes.”

  He comes over to me and starts to undress me. “I’m gonna bathe you, Mazy. I’m gonna care for you like you are some rare flower.”

  As my clothes fall from my body, Granger picks me up and takes me into the adjoining bathroom, places me in the tub, and starts to run the water.

  “Hell, there is room enough in that tub for me as well,” he says, and starts to take his clothes off, then steps into the tub with me.

  Granger holds me to him and washes my body with the sponge and soap. And then he washes my hair, as I lay back against his strong chest. He makes me feel so special that my love for him grows, but I am torn about letting him marry me and pretend that the baby is his. When we finish bathing, we get out of the tub and he dries me off and then he carries me into the bedroom and places me on the bed.

  “You’re already carrying, Mazy. We could make love and it wouldn’t make any difference,” he whispers and he leans over me and starts kissing my body.

  Soon he has started carrying me away to that special place again, as our bodies become one, and I decide at that moment that I will let Granger marry me. He loves me so much, I can’t deny him, so I give into the love I am feeling for him at the moment.

  Granger and I spend the evening making love. He shows me all the ways that he can bring me pleasure and instructs me in ways that I can bring him pleasure. I start to discover how much Granger truly loves me and how much I must have always loved him, but just didn’t realize it. All those times I told Granger how much I hated him and how I was never going to love him or marry him, I must have been lying to him and myself, it seems.

  I think of that day in the cave when I first touched him, and how much in awe I felt as I looked at his naked body. I had wanted to touch him, while at the same time, pretended I didn’t. I think of the night I thought I had been dreaming, but maybe I wasn’t really dreaming. Maybe I wanted Granger to touch me the way I had been touching him in the cave, and just pretended that I didn’t know what I was doing.

  I remember how he was always watching me, even before he saw me at the stream. I knew he was watching me. I liked it that he was watching me, only he was a Snider brother and I couldn’t admit that I liked the fact that he was interested in me. I realize I wanted Marvin to distract me from Granger. Perhaps I wanted to punish Granger because I shouldn’t be loving him after what happened to my father at the prank of his brothers. My thoughts are confused as I let Granger show me how much he loves me, and I want to make it up to him somehow for all the times I was mean to him.

  He doesn’t talk about me marrying him anymore, though, because I know he has already decided on it. The next morning, we put on our new clothes, hire a buggy, and then Granger drives to the post office, after getting directions as to where to find it.

  The postmaster gives us Marvin’s address, and Granger takes me to the address.

  “You stay in the buggy,” I tell him. “It is not going to help to have you threatening him. If I need your help, I will ask you to come up,” I tell him.

  Granger frowns, but he stays in the buggy and I walk up to the house and ring the bell. A butler answers and I ask him if Mr. or Mrs. Mayfield is in? He tells me to wait in the hall and asks me who is calling.

  “Mazy Maxwell,” I tell him.

  A few minutes later, he returns and tells me to follow him. I follow him down a hall and then he opens a door into a room that looks like a study. I walk in, and I see Marvin sitting on the other side of a desk. He looks at me like he can’t understand what I am doing here.

  “Hello, cousin,” he says calmly. “Wanting a tour of New York City?” he asks.

  “I’ve toured it, thank you,” I say. “I have come to do a little business with you.”

  “Have you now?” he smiles as he stands up and comes around the desk towards me.

  “I have decided that since you used me like a common prostitute, it is time to pay the price for taking the pleasure,” I say with narrowing eyes. “I am sorry to hear that your mother has died. I was going to go to her first, but now I am forced to deal with you.”

  “Deal with me in what way?” he asks.

  “I don’t suppose you want your wife to learn of our little episode in the cook’s shack, but I have no qualms about telling her, that is unless you agree to my terms.”

  “Terms?” he raises his eyebrows, as he comes closer and penetrates my eyes with his green emerald spheres.

  “Well, considering that I am with child, I believe that you need to support your little bastard and the woman who gives him birth. I don’t mean just support us but lavishly support us,” I demand with a meaningful smile.

  “I gave your mother money to take care of you and her,” he tells me. “That should be payment enough,” he insists.

  “I’m afraid not. That is enough to keep her ranch going, but I don’t intend to live on the ranch. I intend to live like you, in a large beautiful house. If you were not married, I could demand you marry me and furnish me with that sort of luxury. Seeing as how you have a wife, and no telling how many children, since you seem to enjoy spewing your seed in women’s bodies, I can’t very well do that. So I will take the next best thing.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that you intend to blackmail me into putting you up for the rest of your life?” he asks.

  “Call it what you will,” I say, and just as I say it, there is a tap on the door and a woman comes into the room.

  “Marvin dear, the butler tells me that our cousin is here. Oh,” she says when she sees me. “You must be Mazy Maxwell. Marvin has told me so much about you.”

  “Have you, Marvin?” I say. “I hope you have not left anything out.”

  I give him a direct stare.

  “Mazy was just leaving, Rachael. She has only stopped by briefly to give her condolences for my mother’s death. You were about to leave, weren’t you, Mazy?” he says.

  “Not until I have your promise,” I say.

  “Promise for what?” Rachael says.

  “His promise to release to me the money that my father’s cousin left us in her will,” I say. “He was getting ready to write me the check.”

  “Rachael, I believe you need to attend to your household duties, I will take care of this on my own, dear,” Marvin states, and Rachael turns and leaves the room.

  “Enough of your games,” Marvin says. “I am in no position to give you anything. The money my mother left me, has just been able to stabilize my finances. That little trust she gave to you and your mother is the only thing you are getting from her estate. Feel lucky you are getting that.”

  “But that was a gift from my cousin, which was offer
ed before you laid a finger on me. I want you to pay, Marvin. I want you to remember every day of your life what you did to me, while you had a wife of your own to plunder in bed. Now, I will bring a child into the world that you are responsible for, and unless you want your sweet wife to discover the kind of man she is sadly married to, you will write me out that check. I will take five thousand.”

  Marvin narrows his eyes. “And then how much more after that?” he asks.

  “As much as I believe will make you suffer one-tenth the amount I am suffering at your hand. I will have a child to remind me of you for the rest of my life, so I think you need to be reminded of me for the rest of your life as well.”

  Marvin’s face becomes very still, and then he smiles.

  “Very well, but I seem to be out of checks at the moment, so I will have to take you to the bank with me and draw out the cash,” he insists.

  “Fine,” I say.

  I am a little surprised that he gave in all of a sudden. Perhaps his wife coming in convinced him it was in his best interest, I decide. He takes my arm and leads me from the room.

  He stops the butler in the hall, as we pass.

  “Tell my wife I will be out on business for a bit,” he says, and then he allows the butler to open the door for us.

  Marvin guides me to his buggy, but I stop and tell Granger I will be right back before I climb up in it.

  “I see you have brought your friend with you,” Marvin mentions.

  “Yes, so I hope you will be on your best behavior because he just wants to shoot you!” I tell him.

  Marvin helps me up in his buggy and cracks the whip over the horse’s heads and we jog off down the street. The buggy follows one street and then another. Since I do not know my way around the city very well, or where Marvin’s bank is, I sit patiently watching the landmarks as we pass them. Marvin is even telling me things about the sights we pass on the way and it amazes me that he would even bother.

  “You might as well learn a few things about New York since your visit probably won’t last long,” he sort of chuckles as he turns down another street.

  I notice the street leads down to the docks.

  “Do they have a bank this close to the docks?” I ask.

  “No, but I wanted to show you my ships before we go up to the bank, he insists.”

  “I don’t have time for this.” I cry, “Granger is waiting for me.”

  “Granger can wait a little longer,” he says, and he pulls the buggy up to a building, stops it and jumps down.

  “This is not a bank,” I cry, starting to feel alarmed.

  “No, but I have a couple of friends here I want you to meet first,” he informs me, and he takes my hand and practically drags me down from the buggy.

  “I don’t want to meet your friends,” I complain, as fear starts to wash over me.

  “But they want to meet you,” he says.

  He knocks on the door of the building and it is opened. Marvin pushes me in. Two men had been sitting at a table, playing cards and apparently drinking. Now only one sat there, while the other had opened the door.

  “This is my cousin, boys,” he says. “You know, the one I told you about that showed me such a good time when I went to visit her. She’s all yours to do with as you please, but the conditions are, you don’t let her lose. I suggest you put her on one of the ships that are heading out to sea when you are through with her. Otherwise, you might have to kill her and I would hate for my dear cousin to end up being fish food.”

  He throws me to the man who had answered the door and starts to turn to it.

  “This will teach you not to try and blackmail anyone in the future,” he says.

  I start to bolt for the door, but the taller one has a hold of my wrist.

  “Not so fast, my sweet,” he leers, and I can smell the whiskey on his breath.

  “Which one of us do you think should have her first,” the other asks, “Or maybe we could share her,” he suggests as he gives me a grin, revealing several teeth missing.

  “I got her, so I’ll hold her while you take her, and then you can hold her for me,” the one holding me decides.

  “Up with your skirt,” the other one says, as he comes up to me and pushes my skirt up, then takes his hand and grabs the crotch of my pantaloons at the opening ripping them up the front. “Don’t want nothing getting in the way,” he says as he starts to unfasten the front of his trousers.

  I see him bringing himself out, and I start kicking at him.

  “Oh, she’s all full of spunk,” he laughs. “You better stand still, or my partner here will just knock you out and then you won’t be able to enjoy it none.”

  I stop struggling, and he smiles.

  “That’s better,” he says. “Take her dress off, I think I want to look at her first,” he says.

  The man holding me, runs his hand down the back of my dress, popping all the buttons, and then pulls the top of my dress down over my shoulders. He pushes it to the floor and rips away my flimsy under-top. The other one takes his knife and cuts my petty coat at the waist so it falls to the floor as well. I cringe as he rips the rest of my pantaloons off.

  “Oh that is much better he says.

  He snickers, as he walks over to me with his man part waving about on the outside of his pants.

  “What shall we do first?” he questions, as he glares at me.

  He leans to put his mouth on my breast, and as he does so, I lift my knee and slam it up between his legs. He lets out a scream, and in the confusion, the man holding me lets go of one wrist. I grab the knife from the other one’s belt, reach up and cut the hand of the one holding my wrist, and then grab the member of the man I just rendered helpless.

  “You want me to cut it off, just say the word!” I scream in his face. “I’ve castrated bulls in my day, and a man won’t be much different. Make one move and you will lose your ability to point that thing at another woman again. This is a sharp knife, and I can either cut up, or I can cut down, doesn’t bother me none, so tell your friend to get out of here unless he wants to see you bleeding all over the floor!”

  “Leave,” he chokes to his friend.

  “And if you bring anyone back, I’ll cut your friend here and then throw the knife at whoever bars the doorway.” I threaten.

  His friend, holding his bleeding hand, rushes to the door. I back the other man up to a closet in the room, open the door and push him in. Then I put one of the chairs under the knob, grab my dress and put my arms in the sleeves. Cautiously, I open the door. No one is there, so I flee the building. As soon as I can find a place to conceal myself, I cut a strip from the hem of my dress, make a couple of holes along the top opening of the back of my dress and thread the strip in to tie the top together. Then I cut another piece and make a sash to hold the middle together.

  I look around me and take in my breath, I am trying to remember the landmarks we passed, as I walk up the street.

  “That’s her!” I hear someone calling, and I look over my shoulder to see the man whose hand I cut, pointing at me. A large muscular man, who is with him, starts to chase me. I take off, stumbling up the street, but he is too fast for me. I turn and throw the knife, but he ducks, grabs me up, and by that time the other man has caught up with him. He puts a gag over my mouth and a blindfold over my eyes. The man who is holding me throws me over his shoulder and carries me away. My kicking does not seem to faze him.

  My fright intensifies as I feel my captor carrying me up some sort of ramp. Then I feel movement as the man changes his mode of walking, and I realize he has brought me onto a ship. He goes through a door, sort of bending down as he does so. Then he deposits me on the floor, grabs my wrists and ties them together.

  “You’re safe,” he says. “You may not think it, but you are. The likes of those men would have done you harm. I only came to save you from their clutches. I’ve seen men like them before. Someone wanted you out of the way, it seems. If I had let you go, some other harm would hav
e befallen you. The Docks are no place for a woman to be wandering around,” he tells me.

  Then he removes my blindfold, and I look up at him grinning down at me. I take in his sun-bleached sandy-colored hair that is all wavy and hanging around his ears. His ice blue eyes spark as he looks down at me. He is tall and muscular, his arms bulging from a vest he wears with no shirt. His trousers are tight and flare at the bottom. He has a knife stuck under his belt and he looks down at me with questioning eyes.

  “If you are saving me, then let me go,” I tell him.

  “I can’t. We were just getting ready to sail when I brought you on board. I didn’t have time to let you go just to have you get caught again. You’ll have to wait until we dock here again.”

  “When will you dock here again?” I ask.

  “Next year,” he says. “Welcome aboard the Blue Dolphin.”

  “Next year!” I wail. “Isn’t there any port you are stopping at?”

  “Sure, but it is no place near the states. This is a merchant ship. We are taking goods to foreign shores and bringing back other goods in return.”

  “But I’m going to have a baby,” I say. I can’t have a baby aboard a ship!”

  “Where’s your husband?” he asks.

  I just look at him.

  “So you don’t have a husband,” he surmises. “In that case, feel yourself lucky. No one will know you are an unwed mother. You won’t have to go through the shame of having a child out of wedlock. I will just tell everyone you are my wife. Now your problem is solved,” he smiles, and he bends down and unties my hands.

  “No, it’s not!” I say, rubbing my wrists. “The man I love, who would have married me to save me from shame, is in New York, and he won’t know where to look for me. He’ll think I am dead.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he says quietly, “but there is nothing you can do. Had I left you, you would have been raped and possibly dead, after what I understand you did to those two dock hands. They would have given you to me anyway, for a price, after they had ravished you. By then, I doubt if you would have still been standing. Probably wouldn’t have been worth much after they were through with you. They think I sell the women they give me to the slave market, but I usually just let them go on any port of their choosing.”