by Tony Roberts
The shopkeeper eyed Case, then saw the pistol in the waist belt. He guessed this guy as being trouble and decided the cost of three farm implements wasn’t worth it. He revised his cost and Michael happily left the shop clutching the three items. “Thanks for that, Case, I’m grateful. Been having trouble up on the farm with our neighbors to the north. Germans they are, thieving bastards. Stole a few spades last week.”
“Most of the new people round here are Germans,” Case noted. “I’m not surprised your neighbors are, too. Stole your spades did they? Didn’t you ask for them back?”
“Well I did, believe me; they told me to go away and said I was lying. Me, lying!” Michael was outraged. Then he gasped. “Well, God above, there they are coming towards us!”
Case looked ahead and saw three fairly big guys walking on the sidewalk. Two were burly blonde types, about twenty-two or so, huge shoulders and hands like shovels. The third, in the middle, was dark haired and wiry, but looked tough as nails. All had clear blue eyes and one of the blonde guys had a nose that had been broken in the past. All had the same thick lips that bespoke of similar parentage. “What’s their names?”
“Don’t know, Case. The family name is Schwarz. That’s all I know. Those three are brothers; the middle one’s the elder, the two others are twins.”
The Schwarz brothers walked abreast and blocked the entire sidewalk and weren’t going to move aside. Michael went to step into the street but Case held his ground and walked right at them. Michael went to warn Case but it was too late and he watched from his position in the street itself as the German brothers stopped in front of an expressionless Case and they stared at each other from a distance of less than two feet apart.
“You’re blocking my path,” Case said pleasantly.
“So?” one of the blond twins replied, looking down at the shorter man. “Go round, like your friend there.”
“Well this is the thing,” Case smiled, “my ma always told me to walk straight and look the world in the eye. It wouldn’t take much for one of you to let me pass.”
The three Germans laughed briefly. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. Case grinned back, tensing his body at the same time. These guys wouldn’t play for fun; they’d hit hard and play dirty. Ever since he could remember he’d been confronting Germans. His early army life in the legions had involved a fight against German tribesmen and it seemed from that moment on he’d been fighting them. They were hard bastards who didn’t know when to give up. Small wonder they made excellent mercenaries. These three stood, fists planted on hips, staring at him. They made a small half circle round him so that now he could only retreat, and that would be tantamount to surrender.
“Now you’re crowding me. That makes me feel threatened.”
“That is such a pity,” the other twin said, his accent heavy.
“Hey, let him pass,” Michael said from the road.
“Why don’t you fuck off and run to momma like you did last time, sheisskopf?” the first blond twin snapped irritably.
“Now that’s no way to address a neighbor, is it?” Case admonished him.
The middle one, the dark haired brother, spoke for the first time. He spoke in German to the other two. “Franz, take the idiot in the street and relieve him of his shiny new toys. They will make an ideal complement to the ones you took last week. Hans, you hold this fool here while I take his nice new pistol. We could do with one.”
Case grinned. “Want my gun, hey?” he said in fluent German. “Well you’ll have to take it, you whore’s suckling.”
The three brothers’ mouths opened in surprise, then outrage. It presented a target Case was too tempted to miss, and so he smashed his fist into the face of Hans. The German staggered back, his head jerked back by the force of the blow. The older brother snarled and lunged, but Casca had whipped out the pistol. He had no intention of shooting the man however. The barrel struck his opponent on the temple and he staggered sideways a few paces before falling heavily onto his side.
Hans had regained his balance and stepped forward but the cocking of the hammer on Case’s colt stopped him. “Want a gut full of lead?” Case asked mildly.
Hans froze, eyes fixed on the evil mouth of the gun. From a distance of ten feet a miss was inconceivable. Franz was motionless too, a few paces from Michael who watched in fascination. Case looked down at the groaning brother. “Well, it seems you’ve stepped aside, for which I’m mighty grateful. Now, pick him up and go to wherever you’re going. I don’t want to see you in my path again or next time I won’t be this pleasant. Verstehen sie, meinen herren?”
“Ja, we understand,” Franz replied, his voice full of menace. “But don’t think next time we meet you’ll get your way.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Case said. “Now get lost.”
As the three moved off, the two blond brothers supporting the still groggy other, Case slid the colt back into the holster. Michael stepped up to him, eyes full of wonder and admiration. “Golly, Case! Ye’re a bloody brave bastard, so ye are.”
“Those people understand and respect strength, Michael. They detest and despise anyone giving in. The only way to beat them is to outfight and outdo them. Don’t give in to them, even if it means getting your ass whipped time and time again.”
Michael nodded, not really understanding fully what Case meant. They resumed their path and deposited the implements into the cart and began making their way along the main street towards the road leading out of town. Case decided Schofield could wait; he’d made enough enemies in one day already. As they made their way into the square, they saw a crowd gathered and a man standing on some sort of box, speaking to them. Curious, Case asked Michael to stop and jumped off, making his way over to the people.
The man standing on the box was shouting the praises of a man called Thomas Catesby Jones. It seemed that Jones had been in charge of an American force sailing in the Pacific when he got a message to the effect that America and Mexico were at war. Who told him and why remained uncertain, but Jones sailed for California, deciding to make a name for himself and anchored in Monterey Bay, sending marines ashore to take the town from a stunned and disbelieving populace.
Jones read a declaration aloud stating that the United States had captured the town and the Mexican flag was pulled down and the Stars & Stripes raised instead. This brought an embarrassed and bewildered American consul rushing to Jones, informing he was very much mistaken. Jones, beet red with embarrassment, hastily had the flags switched once more and, as the furious Mexican governor turned up, had his men fire a volley of shots into the air to salute the Mexican tricolor. Jones then offered a deep apology to the speechless governor before returning with his men back to their ships and they sailed away.
The crowd in the square cheered at the speaker when he announced Jones’ taking of the city and booed when the mistake was realized. “Hell, we oughta‘ve stayed in that goddamned town and to hell with the Mexicans!” one onlooker shouted. He got a chorus of nods and ‘ayes’ in reply.
“What happened to Jones?” Case asked from the back.
“Hell, he was relieved of command and sent back to Washington in disgrace,” the speaker said. The crowd booed again. Case grinned and returned to the wagon. Michael was waiting impatiently, and as soon as Case got aboard, set off once more for home.
“What was all that about?” he asked.
“Oh, the tension between the States and Mexico has been turned up a notch,” Case said, then lapsed into silence. He was certain now that war was inevitable, and if the rumblings over annexing Texas came to fruition, then there was no doubt Mexico would try to take it back. Case wondered how long it would be.
Back at the farm things were strained and Case soon got the facts out of a garrulous Bridget who couldn’t keep quiet for long. She really was a terrible gossip. “Ma and Ann had an argument over Sean Brady,” she said, giggling.
“Sean Brady? What is he got to do with anything?” Case knew Sean, a nineteen year old
short, wiry lad with thick black hair and a temper like Vesuvius.
“Oh, he’s been over to see Ann and they wanted to go into town together but Ma said no. Ann wouldn’t listen and Ma sent her to her room and banned her from seeing Sean again!” Bridget giggled again.
“Oh that’s all I need! Great.” Where was a good bottle of liquor when one needed it badly? Case walked into the kitchen.
“And what d’ye think ye’re doing bringing that thing into my house, Case Lonnergan?” Mary pointed accusingly at the pistol.
“Protection,” Case growled, “from fiery Irish mothers.”
“If ye’re going to take that attitude ye can get out! I’ll take no disrespect from anyone!”
“Especially defiant eldest daughters,” Case added, taking a bottle of whiskey from a cupboard.
Mary scowled and stood in his path. “And where d’ye think ye’re going with that?”
“I’m going to share a drink with Sean Brady, Mary McGuire. And before you open your mouth and piss me off, I think you’d better listen to what I have to say.”
Mary’s mouth opened and shut, much like a landed cod, and she sat down, more in surprise than anything else. Case leaned over the table and peered down at her. “We rely on our neighbor’s goodwill to get by, and pissing them off by refusing to allow one of them to take your daughter out to town is a sure way of stopping help we badly need.
“Therefore I am taking this precious bottle over to the Brady’s as an offering, to patch up the relations with them you have made a mess of by your refusal to let their son take your daughter out. And you don’t order me about either, woman. I’m not a slave, or your husband. Maybe you look on those two things as one and the same, but if you ever order me about like that again I’ll turn round and walk out of here and not come back. You understand? I have no obligation to you or your family; I’m here purely because I wish it. America is a hell of a vast place and I could go anywhere I choose to settle down. I’ll stay here only as long as I feel welcome. Without me or your neighbors help you’d be in serious trouble. And you’ve succeeded in pissing us all off. This isn’t Ireland, Mrs. McGuire; it’s America, and things are different here. People have more freedom in their choices. They have more land, more opportunities.”
Case straightened and stamped out of the kitchen, leaving a stunned Mary sat on her own at the table. Case caught sight of a pair of wide-eyed faces peering through the banister rails, but he pretended he didn’t see them as he stormed out of the house, bottle in hand. Maybe Patrick and Elizabeth might comfort their mother; he guessed it was a long time since they’d heard a man shout like that to their mother.
“Case!”
He stopped and looked up to the open window of Ann’s room. She was leaning out, biting her lip. “Don’t worry, Miss Ann, I didn’t touch her.”
“Are ye going to the Brady farm? To see Sean?”
“I am, Miss Ann. I won’t be back for a while. I think you and your ma ought to patch things up; she’ll be needing someone to talk to I’m thinking. Arguing won’t be of any use right now.”
“Wait! I’m coming down!”
Before Case could tell her not to, she had vanished and moments later came running out of the house, her long skirt flapping in the breeze. Case stood blocking her route and shook his head, a look of disapproval on his face. “I don’t think you coming is a good idea. Your ma hasn’t given you permission to come and that’ll just make her madder than before. Besides, Sean won’t be the only one I’ll be seeing; this whiskey is for the family. A sort of offering, if you like. I don’t think you’ll be comfortable with two or three guys knocking this stuff down.”
“It’s our family whiskey, for a special occasion!”
“Which is now. Your mother insulted the Bradys and they won’t forget that. Refusing to trust their son with her daughter isn’t the best neighborly policy. I’m hoping I can patch things up. You have got to do the same with your Ma. Coming with me would be entirely the wrong thing.”
Ann huffed and stood with her arms crossed. “I’m not big enough to help, is that it?”
“Not in this matter Miss Ann. It’d also make it look like either one of us can’t go anywhere without an escort, adding to the insult. Mmm?”
Ann made a disgusted noise. “Well, I’m not really interested in Sean Brady anyway!”
Case frowned and stared at Ann. “Well why all this fuss then, for heaven’s sake?”
Ann scuffed the toe of her shoe in the ground. “Well, the thing is that I wanted to make ye jealous by asking another out; I was thinking maybe ye’d want me after all.”
Case slapped a palm into his forehead. “Oh great bouncing balls of Jupiter! All this because you still want me as your husband?”
Ann nodded, her face downcast. Case sighed, put the bottle down and took her by the shoulders. “Look at me Ann. Look at my face, my arms. You’ve seen my body. It’s covered in scars. It’s the body of a soldier. War is coming and I will go fight because it’s what I do. I’m not going to stay here farming for long, only till Patrick is old enough to take over from me. And you’ll need your neighbors to help, and that means the Bradys and the others. Don’t play with Sean’s feelings by trying to make me jealous.”
“Is that all ye can say? Don’t you feel anything for me at all?”
“Miss Ann, we’re not for each other. Get that into your head. Look for a husband from the Bradys or O’Driscolls or whoever. Forget me; you’re wasting your time. Now go see your mother before I march you in there myself!”
Ann shook herself away from him violently. “Ye don’t mean that! I know ye don’t! Why do ye do this to me?”
Case picked up the bottle. His heart ached fiercely, but he knew he had to do something to kill this situation. “You’re imagining things Miss Ann. I don’t feel anything of that sort for you. Yes you’re a pretty girl but you’re not for me, and I’m not for you. Go chase some young buck who’ll appreciate it. Now get indoors, you silly love struck woman.” Without waiting for a reply Case turned round and began trudging off, leaving a weeping Ann alone in the track. Ann watched him walk away, then turned and fled to the house, sobbing her heart out.
Case walked, his teeth gritted, tears of his own falling too, but he wouldn’t let anyone see his heart was hurt too. By the time he got to the Brady’s it was nearly dark and he was welcomed in. The bottle was particularly appreciated and Case was taken into the back room by Brady senior who called Sean and his brother Eamonn in to help test the quality of the whiskey. Ma Brady left a few freshly made cakes on the table and withdrew, knowing the men wouldn’t want to be disturbed. Eamonn was two years older than Sean and was tall, dark haired and had very broad shoulders.
“Well now, Case. It’s a fine thing ye’re doing bringing such a delightful present over here for us poor folk to sample.” Brady senior beamed, throwing a small glass of the amber liquid down his throat. He choked and his face went red. Nodding furiously he pointed at the bottle. “Good God! That’s a fine whiskey!” his voice gasped.
The two brothers threw theirs back and tried to stop following suit but had to give in. Case grinned and sent his glassful down his throat. It burned and brought tears to his eyes. “Wow!”
“Indeed, couldn’t put it better myself. Now,” Brady senior looked at Case seriously, “have ye been sent here by Ma McGuire by any chance?”
“I have not! I told her a few things before setting off for this place. I hope she sees sense out of all this. Hopefully the next time Sean here wants to go into town he’ll be taking the delightful Ann with him.”
Sean snorted. “If she shuts up talking about ye that is!”
“I think that might be a possibility. We’ve had words. Hell, I’ve been busy making friends by the shipload today! Ran across the Schwarz brothers in town. Pleasant lot.”
“Oh ye did, did ye?” Sean replied, staring meaningfully at his brother and father. Brady senior cleared his throat.
“Those boys are very nast
y. Arrogant and rude. They’ve got a vicious side to them too, so they have. Don’t go crossing them too often or ye’ll end up dead, I’m thinking.”
Case grunted. “Well, I waved this in their face and clouted the elder one across the head.” He produced his colt and laid it on the table.
“Oh bejesus!” the father exclaimed. “Now ye’ll be in trouble for sure. Their land touches ours. If it’s a fight, don’t go dragging everyone into it. They killed the last poor boy who crossed them. Well, nobody could prove it of course, but the poor lad was found in the James River a few days after he’d had a terrible argument with them.”
“Not to worry,” Case said easily, “I’m not that easily killed. Now, let’s drink to neighborly friendship!” The four laughed and the bottle was attacked once more.
It was still dark when Case made his way back, stumbling over obstacles in the blackness, cursing. The evening had been good and the Bradys friendly. Sean had loosened up after the fourth drink. He obviously saw Case as a rival to the affections of the lovely Ann, but Case had insisted he wasn’t in the running and his attentions were elsewhere. Sean had relaxed – although how much of that was due to the amber liquid Case wasn’t entirely sure – and they had discussed much into the small hours.
Things were tough and the small Irish community was finding it more and more difficult to get by with what they were doing. Most of the wealth was being generated by the Germans and the Methodist church. The Methodists had built their own church and owned a fair slice of land thereabouts. Old man Brady did offer a very useful piece of news however quite by accident. He said the Catholic Church under Schofield had recently instigated a scheme to put some of the homeless and out of work members to work on the farms run by members of their community. One had even been sent to work on the Burke farm, over the other side of the McGuire land. Someone called Jim Lorrimer.
