“Fine folks Robert, you’ve got some fine folks, you sure are missed around here. Every time I past the farm I think of you all.”
“Tell me about the farm Doc. What happened after Malinda left?”
Doc sat there as though studying what to say, and finally begins explaining how Malinda gave him a quitclaim deed for the farm, but he did not have enough money to pay the taxes. The county judge, sheriff and Simeon LaPree were all in on the plan to steal Robert’s land.
Interrupting, Robert asks about LaPree. Doc tells Robert that LaPree parents were a Negro prostitute and a Cajun from Louisiana; he, in fact is a half-breed. As the Commander of the Home Guard, he was ruthless and brutal.
Doc continued. LaPree had set his eyes on getting the farm in foreclosure. Doctor Crawford explained since arriving from up north the carpetbagger Judge Slade had relegated LaPree to a lower position in the pecking order. LaPree had always been number two as Captain of the Home Guard, but he took orders from the local Union commander Major Hilliard now his orders came directly from the Judge. The Judge supposedly worked for the Major, but upon Slade’s arrival Major Hilliard was suddenly transferred, leaving Judge Slade in charge.
Explaining further, Doc said Judge Slade had found out about a saltpeter cave on Robert’s property that was worth a fortune and he wanted the property for himself. This didn’t sit too well with LaPree. One day the Judge and LaPree went hunting and for some unknown reason, the Doc said winking, the Judge was accidently shot and killed. LaPree bought the farm for almost nothing when it came up for auction. Everyone was so terrified of LaPree no one would bid against him.
“Thanks, Doc, where is this LaPree feller these days?”
“Why Robert! He’s living right up there in your farmhouse. Acts like he is still Commander of the Home Guard. Too big for anyone to touch, so I hear.”
“Well, we’ve got to ride right by the farm on our way back, might just stop in there and have a talk with this LaPree feller.”
“Now hold on Robert, this ain’t no amateur you’re dealing with. He’s a dyed in the wool, bonafide killer. He’ll kill you at the drop of a hat.”
“I ain’t aiming to drop my hat Doc. I just want to see him for myself.”
“Well, if your dead set on going up there let me hitch up my buggy and I’ll ride along with you. He might not be as apt to shoot you with a witness present.”
“Did you ever think he might shoot the witness too Doc?”
“Yeah, that thought did kinda run across my mind,” Doc says grinning.
The three riders and the buggy approach the gate leading up to the Scarburg’s old farmhouse. Robert reins in Blaze, and sits with both hands on the saddle horn staring hard up the roadway at the house he and Malinda had build with their own sweat and tears.
“What is it Father? Is something wrong?”
“No, just wanted one good look at the place, and to remember back when we all arrived in ’52. Come on let’s go see this LaPree. When we get up there, Luke let me do the talking – I know you’re hotheaded and might get LaPree stirred up and agitated too much. You heard what Doc said this man is a killer! Just remember, let me do all the talking.” Spurring their horses as Doc slaps his horse’s flank they enter the open gate and lope at a slow pace up the road to the house.
Entering the yard as the dust settles they can see a man sitting on the porch. He is leaning back in a straight chair with his boots resting on the porch rail. He sits upright as the three come to a stop.
Without getting up, LaPree directs his comments to the new strangers, “Welcome to my hacienda Señores. Git off of them hosses and come upon my veranda and rest yerselves, I’ll get us a bottle of Tequila.”
Robert remains mounted, “Sir, I can see by your dress and the manner of your speech you must be from Mexico. I salute you Señore,” tipping the brim of his hat. “I am very pleased you are of Mexican descent and are not of that lowly Negro race. I cannot tolerate the Negroes; the only thing worse than one of those black skinned Devils would be a Cajun. Both races are stupid, lazy, and must have the white men, and, of course, the Mexicans to show them how anything is done. Oh, did I mention cowardly? No? They are cowardly too.”
Luke is sitting on his horse listening to his father. Why, he thought, is he saying all these terrible, nasty things, he doesn’t believe a word of what he is saying.
“Oh, I am sorry Señore, there is one other race of people worse than the Negro or the Cajun, that would be a mix of the two – a half-breed! Don’t you agree, my Mexican friend?”
LaPree had taken Robert’s tongue lashing insults too long. He rises from his chair and moves toward the porch steps. “Wait,” said Robert, “I forgot, a half-breed with a prostitute as a mother would rate right up there too. What you think about that, huh Señore?” Robert said the word Señore sarcastically.
LaPree takes a couple of steps from the porch into the yard. His silver spurs rhythmically jingle with each step. He pitches the remainder of his cigar to the ground. His hand drops slowly to his six-gun strapped to his leg and slips off the leather strap holding the gun in its holster. He is getting ready to make this gringo eat those words, he is ready to ‘slap leather’.“Señore, why would you come to my house and make such insulting remarks? Who are you Sir before I kill you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry Señore,” Robert said emphasizing Señore, “I didn’t introduce myself – maybe you have heard of me, I am Robert... Robert Scarburg.” He let the words slowly flow from his lips.
Stuttering LaPree struggles to speak, “Scar...Scarburg? Are you acquainted with Malinda Scarburg?”
“Yes, I believe I am – I am her husband! You half-breed lowlife!”
With a foot still in his stirrup Robert begins to dismount from his horse. He swings his left leg over Blaze’s back, but before his foot touches the ground LaPree goes for his six-gun. A loud thunderous gun blast sounds; however, he had not cleared leather, it came from Nate. His Colt was a fraction of a second faster. He has outdrawn LaPree.
LaPree takes a staggering step forward, buckles to his knees and looks wide-eyed at Nate. With one hand he grasps his chest, blood flows through his fingers and runs down his hand and drips onto the ground. He looks down at his bloody hand. He cannot believe he has been outdrawn. Spitting a chaw of tobacco toward the gasping LaPree, Nate wipes the juice from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and utters, “That one is for my Pa and brother Jefferson.”
Nate, taking pleasure now, fires the finishing shot squarely into the center of LaPree’s chest, about two inches from the hole the first bullet made. “That one is fer shootin’ my Ma, I said I would get you for killin’ my Pa and brother and shootin’ my Ma, consider yourself got, Mister Simeon LaPree Commander of the Home Guard. LaPree falls with a thud facedown on the ground – dead, his hand still clutching his unfired, Colt .44.
Walking his horse up to LaPree he looks down and speaks to LaPree’s lifeless body, “The onliest difference twixt them and you,” Nate said pointing with his finger, “they are properly buried over there in that little cemetery under that oak. Youse is gonna lay right there and let the crows and ventures pluck yer eyes out, and what’s left the buzzards and worms will take care of. Good riddance Sir!” Nate slips his smoking .44 back into his holster.
Robert walks over, checks LaPree, turns and steps over his dead body. As Robert’s boot slightly grazes LaPree back, his silver spur jingles; he casually looks down and sees LaPree’s blood seeping out and being soaked up in the soft, dry dirt of the yard. He stops and mutters to LaPree, “You’re blood used to run hot thinking of owning my farm, I hope that blood is enjoying the farm now!”
Robert meets with Doctor Crawford at his buggy. “Doc,” said Robert, “what now?”
“As far as the killing of LaPree, I am a well-respected member of this community, my word will not be contested when I tell them LaPree went for his forty-four first and Nate fired in self-defense.”
“Thanks Doc, but the killing
of LaPree does not bother me in the least. Luke, Nate and I have seen so many dead men one more doesn’t even raise our eyebrows. I am thinking of this farm, what will happen to it now?”
“I suppose it will go up for public auction in a couple of months.”
“How much do you think it will sell for Doc?”
“With the War over, and the saltpeter mine never materialized, this place is just a house, barn and land. I’m thinking two or three thousand dollars should about do it.”
Robert opened his saddlebag and handed Doc a stack of money. “Here is five-thousand dollars Doc all U.S. greenbacks, when the farm comes up for sale I would like for you to buy it. Any money left over is yours to keep.”
“Robert when I buy the farm what am I to do with it?”
“Put the deed to the farm in the name of Nate and Isla Scarburg and send word to me at Scarlettsville. Their farm was destroyed during the war and they need a good, safe place to live. This farm will make them a perfect home if they want it.”
Nate could not contain himself, “Mister Robert, is you sayin’ this big ole farm is gwine to belong to me and Isla?”
“That’s right Nate, but only if you want it. I can help get the saltpeter mine operating and you, Isla and Nate Junior should have a comfortable place to live and a good income from the mine.”
“Oh, Mister Robert, you don’t have to convince me – I’m sold! Yes Sir, we want it.”
“Doc, I’ll leave it in your hands. Hopefully, sometime in the near future you will have a fine neighbor and a good friend in Nate Scarburg and his beautiful wife Isla. Of course,” grinning, “you’ll have to put up with their teenage son Nate Junior, but you survived mine so one more should be a breeze for you. Thank you for all you have already done and I thank you in advance for your future efforts on my families behave.”
“No, thanks are not necessary,” looking at Nate, “Sir it will be an honor and a privilege to have you and your family as neighbors.”
“Good,” says Robert looking at LaPree lying sprawled out in the dirt, “let’s mount up and get back to Scarlettsville. There’s nothing more to do here. Nate has already cleaned out the trash.”
EPILOGUE
Morning came early this 3rd day of July; the sun has barely appeared in the eastern sky, the cool air of the night is beginning to be replaced by the hot, dry air of this tranquil summer morning.
Standing at Scarlett’s main gate holding hands are Robert, hair as white as the cotton that once was produced in abundance in Scarlett’s fields, balancing himself with a cane with a handle made with gold from the Good Luck mine, Malinda, still beautiful as always holds onto him tightly. The years have been good to her. If one did not know, one would think she was twenty years younger. The blonde curls are still there, and he still relishes that whiff of lilac.
At their feet, as always, are a couple of Kentuck’s pups frolicking about. Scarlett is never without some of Sam’s Walker coonhounds.
For years now this day always begins at Scarlett’s entrance – they meet there to memorialize that July day that happened so many years ago at Gettysburg, and to give thanks to God for giving them the privilege to experience this Anniversary Day one more time together.
They look across the morning mist hugging close to the lily pad covered pond, up the grass-covered hill to the once again beautiful Scarlett. All indications of the past conflagrations have been removed, no charred ruins, no debris, not even one burnt brick remain, all that is now gone. The six, massive, white Greek columns on the front porch gleam in the rays of the rising morning sun. High upon the hill Scarlett is the first to catch the first glimmer of the morn’s sunlight. These columns and the four red brick chimneys, two on each side that bookend the main house, are the only remainders of the old Scarlett, but now they are beautiful reminders of how glorious the new Scarlett has become. However, there is another thing remaining from the past – the family cemetery. It is peacefully situated off near the edge of the impeccably manicured lawn, near a large oak tree. It has more headstones than before, but otherwise it is the same except the wooden fence has been replaced by one of wrought iron.
As Robert and Malinda watch this morning scene they can only think – time went by too swiftly, where did all the years go? It seems that only yesterday they were young with their children playing underfoot rather than the coonhounds, yet in a way it seems like ages ago. Where did all the years go?
Now they are in the autumn of their adventurous life, how much longer will it last? They have no way of knowing, but one thing they know when it ended a new adventure will begin. That is the way they have lived all their lives, why should they change now?
Nate and Isla live happily on the farm in Alabama, Nate Junior joined the Army and is fighting Indians out West somewhere; Luke and Catherine have long ago moved back to Kentucky and operate the highly successful Good Luck gold mine with William as the mine’s Superintendent, he never got to live the good life in Knoxville; Sam lives in Rochester, Minnesota using his part of the gold money helping Doctor Mayo run his clinic; Matthew, Kim, and Mark have moved to New York and established a manufacturing facility providing artificial limbs to the needy, most without cost. Kelly’s husband is one of their managers.
All Robert and Malinda’s children are married and gone. No longer can children’s laughter be heard at Scarlett except on those rare occasions when some of the grandchildren come for a visit. Yes, they are all now gone with the exception of course Sary, their lifelong friend and ‘adopted’ family member, who will stay with them until she dies.
“Isn’t it truly magnificent and so tranquil Robert?”
“I do not know if magnificent is a grandiose enough word, my dear, but I love the word tranquil, for I remember back to that terrible day on the battlefield at Gettysburg, the day I truly thought I was dying. Tranquility I prayed for, but serenity could not be applied to the action of those days – brave warriors of the South trying to annihilate the gallant warriors of the North. The battle between our two opposing forces was appalling, the noise was unbearable the fury was indescribable, and in all that carnage I thought I beheld... beheld...”
“Robert... darling what was it you saw, saw what?”
Looking deep into her emerald green eyes he softly utters:
“...I beheld another beast coming up out of the earth, and he had two horns like a lamb, and he spake as a dragon.”
###
Other books by Larry Hunt
The P.H.O.T.O. –
The Search (Vol 1)
(A Scarburg Family Adventure)
ISBN: 1452315638
Reviews:
“Spell-binding novel written by a master craftsman of the English language with a fathomless mind for science fiction, the military, and somewhat of the occult. I could not put the book down till I had consumed it and discovered the truth of the “The P.H.O.T.O”! If you believe in alien technology and the U.S. Government has secrets they do not want known, then this is the novel for you! I do hope that there is a follow on book. Great read and I highly recommend!” Lonnie Joe T.
“Great first book by new author. Well-developed plot with action packed adventure. A little more military detail than I am familiar with but the details give the reader a vivid picture of what is happening. This is an up and coming author whose craft continues to improve in his following novels. He has an unusual style that is a breath of fresh air from all the authors who use the same style in book after book.”
The P.H.O.T.O. –
The Saga Continues (Vol 2)
(A Scarburg Family Adventure)
ISBN: 1458180094
“The Scarburgs escape the confines of the jungles of Southeast Asia and develops and staffs a CIA black-ops facility know only as S.C.A.R. (Studies Concerning Antiquated Records). This top-secret group uses S.C.A.R. to research and explain events in the Earth’s past history that the Aliens help create.”
21 November 2012 – The Calendar Beckons
(A Sca
rburg Family Adventure)
ISBN: 1458195616
“This adventure finds the Scarburg family, now working for the S.C.A.R. facility, lead by Captain Robert Scarburg, Jr., traveling to Mexico and Egypt to find and unravel the mysterious message the Aliens left as a warning thousands of years ago – 21 December 2012 and its disastrous consequences.”
Justification for Killing
(A Scarburg Family Adventure)
ISBN: 1301287512
“This is Larry Hunt’s next chapter in the adventure of the Scarburg family... What if it is November 22, 1963 once again, but this time JFK survives his assassination rendezvous with Lee Harvey Oswald. In this exciting, time-traveling, sci-fi adventure the Scarburg family time-travels to Dallas, TX in an attempt to change Earth’s destiny. To change the future they must make sure JFK is assassinated. Yes, they must make sure the President dies!
Find out what kind of harrowing adventures Captain Scarburg, Forrest, Olive Marie, Bud and Lou must undertake to shift the Earth’s destiny from one Parallel Universe to another.”
Spake As a Dragon Page 41
