* * *
The next morning I hooked up Sally Mule, went to the plant bed field, and cut it up with the harrow.
“How’d it go?” Lightning asked when I got back to the house.
“It’s done.”
Just before sundown, Lightning hurried across the road to the woods.
Fancy stood at the sink washing dishes. “Junebug, what do you think about quitting this thing right now?”
I could hear the fearfulness in her voice. “That what you want to do? I’ll put a stop to it if it is.”
She banged a pot on the counter. “Don’t put all that burden on me. We have to decide together.”
I went and put my arms around her. “And we will. Let’s play it out a while longer. Anytime we feel things are going wrong, we’ll quit. Okay?”
She turned, laying her head against my chest. “I trust you and I’ll go along with whatever you decide. I just get scared thinking about it.”
It was full dark before I spotted Lightning coming back across the road. “Well?”
“Looks fine, just got one more thing to do.”
“Now what?”
“Need to put something around the field to keep critters out, don’t want deer and coons getting in once the plants start growing.”
“There’s a big roll of chicken wire in the barn.”
“That’ll work. We can drive tobacco sticks in the ground and make a good fence. You take it over there in the wagon and I’ll fix the rest.”
Putting up that fence would pretty much commit me to ride this thing to the end. The hitch in the giddy-up would be if somebody out hunting ran across the field and got curious about what I was planting that needed protecting. “I can do that tomorrow.”
* * *
Saturday came up cloudy, spitting showers of rain on and off. I loaded the chicken wire and tobacco sticks in the wagon and dropped them off at the field. I was sitting on the porch watching it rain when a car rounded the curve up the road. It was a sheriff’s car. When it slowed, I spoke through the door to Lightning. “Get in the bedroom and don’t make a sound.”
A knot formed in my gut. When the car turned in, I recognized Ernest Lee Jones’s daddy. I’d beat up Ernest Lee once at school and worried for days his daddy would come put me in jail. I stepped into the yard and walked to the car. “How you doing, Mr. Jones?” The round brim of the sheriff’s hat tilted low over his eyes. His nickname was “Bull.”
“Real good, Junebug. You making out all right since your grandma died?” He was the one who’d come to the house to give the news the night my momma and daddy had been killed in the car wreck.
“Yessir. Guess I got her and Granddaddy to thank for teaching me how to do things. How’s Ernest Lee?”
He grunted getting out of the car and rested his back against the door. “He’s doing good. Mentioned to me you weren’t in school this year.” He kept looking around the place the whole time he talked. He was a great big man with a roll of fat over his belt. I could sense he was nobody to be fooling with.
I hooked my thumbs on my back pockets. “Just had too much to do to keep the farm going.”
“Education is something you’d be glad for one of these days.”
Let him preach to his own son. “What brings you out this way?”
“Just up at the Wilson place. Seems that boy of Roy and Clemmy’s killed some white man in Georgia. They think he might be headed home.”
I forced surprise on my face. “You talking about Lightning? Hard to believe he’d do something like that.”
“We got a call from a Georgia sheriff, said they’d caught the other two that was with him. Both of them pointed the finger at Lightning as the one what done the killing. Said he knifed the man up real bad. They’re anxious to get their hands on that boy.”
I shook my head and rubbed my chin. “Ump. Had a bad feeling when he took off with them migrants.”
He gave me a long stare. “You ain’t seen nothing of him, have you? Clyde said y’all used to be friends.”
I managed to look him straight in the eye. “Naw, last time I saw Lightning was before he run off. Did you ask his momma and daddy?”
“Stopped over there. You know them niggers, though; they wouldn’t tell you if they had. And the Wilsons said they ain’t seen him either.”
I kicked at some chinaberries lying on the ground. “How you reckon he’d get back here from Georgia?”
“What they said was he not only killed the white man, but robbed him too. Got right at a thousand dollars. I expect he could find his way with that kind of money.”
I let out a long whistle. “Did they say what happened?”
“Didn’t get into a whole lot of detail, so I suspect there might be something they ain’t telling, only that the man’s wife saw the boy killing her husband and stealing his wallet. It did occur to me as to why a man would be walking around with that kind of cash money.” He reached behind and opened the car door. When he got seated, he looked out at me. “I wish you good luck on the farm, Junebug. If you see that boy, you get word to me. And keep in mind”—he paused—“anybody that helps him is guilty of a crime too.” He locked on my eyes.
“I’ll do that, Mr. Jones. Think I’ll make sure my shotgun is loaded.”
“If you go killing a nigger, try to get the right one, hard to tell ’em apart.” He let out a belly laugh and backed out of the yard. The falling rain went from a drizzle to a steady shower, beating a regular rhythm on the big oak leaves. Ordinarily, it would have been soothing.
CHAPTER 26
The back door opened and Lightning walked in. “I told you to stay in the bedroom.”
“I figured if he came in the house wouldn’t be nowhere to run. I was watching.”
A silence fell between us. Lightning had a look of impatience on his face and stood as if he was in charge of this situation. I didn’t like it. “If you were listening as well as watching, you know the old man you knifed is dead. He said they caught the other two and they made you out to be the killer.” I stared at him. He’d lied to me all along.
Lightning wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I was hoping they wouldn’t find out where I was from. If I’d killed a colored instead of a white man, nobody would even bother.”
“You know if they get hold of you, they’re going to kill you.”
He sat down in a kitchen chair. “I wish Daddy had beat my ass and made me stay home.”
“Too late for that now. What you got to make sure of is nobody finds out you’re here. He said if anybody was hiding you, they’d go to prison too, and I don’t feel inclined to end up that way.”
Lightning’s eyes were flat and cold. He picked up a knife and played with it. “Don’t expect you to go to jail for me. When we sell this stuff in the fall, I’m taking my part and going as far away from here as possible. You and Fancy can have Chatham County.”
“That’s right smart thinking.” I went back on the porch and rolled another smoke.
I glanced up the road in time to see Mr. Wilson’s truck. “God damn it!” What the hell did that fat bastard want? My temples started to throb. I’d about had a bellyful of this shit for one day. I went to the yard and stood under the oak to avoid the drizzle.
He pulled his truck close.
“Get a visit from Bull Jones?”
“Just left, surprised you didn’t pass him.”
Mr. Wilson opened his door. “He must have gone the other way. Let’s get out of this rain.”
“Come on in.”
He stuck his head in the open door to the kitchen. “Appears you’re doing a pretty good job keeping the house up.”
“Fancy’s been coming help me do stuff and make sure I don’t burn the place trying to cook. I never realized what a hard job Grandma had.”
He cut me a sideways look. “Been noticing that gal heading this way right smart. Let me give you a little bit of advice, Junebug. Don’t you go to corn holing that black stuff, might ruin you for a proper white
woman when the time comes. Besides, you don’t ever know what kind of disease they might be carrying.”
My face got hot. “Ain’t got to worry, Mr. Wilson.”
“I know a boy your age has always got a hard-on, but you save it for a decent girl. Did the sheriff tell you Roy’s boy killed a white man in Georgia?”
I forced myself to stay calm. “He did? Hard to believe.”
“Need to keep your eye on ’em all the time, never know what they’re thinking. They find out you got some money, they’re liable to do anything.”
I let out a chuckle. “He’d be shit out of luck around here.”
“That boy shows up, you let me know. Your gun loaded?”
“Always.” Which reminded me, I had left my shotgun under the bed where Lightning was sleeping. I rubbed the back of my neck to ease the pain shooting down from my head. “Don’t suppose Lightning would cause us harm even if he did make it back home, do you?”
“Like I said, you never know what they’re thinking. We don’t need trouble around this community. I aspect if anybody catches a glimpse, they’ll save the Georgia folks the cost of a trial.”
“You’re probably right.”
He pushed up off the chair. “Okay then, want us to pick you up for church tomorrow?”
“Believe I will go with you.” It would let me keep tabs on what Mr. Wilson might be thinking. I stood in the porch and watched him drive off.
Lightning came in the back door. “What did he want?”
“To ask if the sheriff had come by. This sure ain’t what I bargained for.” If I kicked Lightning out and he got killed, I didn’t know if Fancy would forgive me.
He might have sensed what I was thinking. “All we got to do is make it a few months.”
The muscles down the back of my neck throbbed. “I’m just fretting about them months in between.”
I wondered if Daddy thought the shiny new Ford he bought with moonshine money was worth it when the fire was burning him alive. Was I playing with that same fire? I walked around the yard, stopped to look around and remind myself I was just a hick farm kid who had no idea what the hell he was messing in with something like this. These trees, this land, these buildings were mine, so what was I doing? And I was wore slam out with folks acting like they were in charge of me.
When I went back into the house, Lightning’s expression had gone back to what I now understood to be his bullshit side, easy to come out when he wanted something from another person. “Junebug, you’re all right for a white boy. You’ve grown balls. Ain’t shy like you used to be. But just ’cause you’re growing them muscles, don’t think I can’t still kick your ass.”
“Don’t jump on no horse you can’t ride.”
* * *
Fancy came late in the afternoon. After Lightning went to the plant field, I reached under the bed for my shotgun, wiped it down good with a little oil, ejected the shells, reloaded, and put it under Grandma’s bed.
Fancy watched. “You ain’t planning on killing somebody, are you?”
I told her about the sheriff. “Don’t ever tell anybody about Lightning or what we’re doing in that field. And most of all don’t let on to anyone about us.”
“Why do you think I would?”
“Can’t think of a reason right now, but don’t mean one might not come up.” I rubbed my palms up and down my face. “Wish I’d never let Lightning stay here.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “And what are you wishing about me?”
I leaned my head against hers. “Wishing we were sitting by an ocean someplace where nobody gave a damn about what color a person is.”
She pulled my face down. “Junebug, you have faith. We don’t understand it yet, but His plan will be clear one of these days.”
I kissed the top of her head.
CHAPTER 27
Fancy cooked peas, cabbage, bacon, and biscuits for supper. “After you go to church tomorrow, I’m going to take the shovel and dig out the creek so we’ll have plenty of water,” Lightning said.
I stirred my fork around in the food, not having much of an appetite. “All the tools are under the woodshed.”
“Sure would be nice to see Momma and Daddy,” Lightning said to Fancy. “They doing all right, ain’t they?”
“Sounds like it from the bed squeaking all the time. You ever do it with any of them migrant women?”
“Let’s put it this way, everybody shared on the bus. If a man and a woman had an itch, they’d scratch it.”
I’d never had a sister or brother, so maybe this kind of talk was normal. “How’d you keep them from getting pregnant?”
Lightning took on like a teacher, giving the benefit of his worldly experience. “Truth is, if they did, they did. The boss man said the kids would be a free hand when they got big enough to work.” He looked at his sister. “You ain’t pregnant, are you?”
Fancy slapped at his head with a dish towel.
* * *
It was sticky hot in the kitchen; no cross breeze at all came through the open window. “I’m going on the porch.”
Lightning was right behind me. “You got any more cigarettes?”
Why not put a sign on my back that said, EVERYTHING’S FREE AT JUNEBUG’S?
Lightning relaxed. “Sure is mighty peaceful.”
My headache began to ease while the three of us sat and talked. Lightning was full of jokes and stories, teasing Fancy about things from when they were kids. He stood up and stretched. “My bed’s calling. Y’all behave now.”
As soon as we couldn’t hear him anymore, Fancy and me went into Grandma’s bedroom. “When Lightning’s like that, seems he ain’t really gone anywhere.” Fancy cuddled against me. “He went through some bad stuff, but maybe, with enough time, he’ll get back to his old self.”
“It’s them other times that worry me.” I closed my arms around her, needing to feel better about what was happening.
“I’m sleepy,” Fancy whispered.
“Be right embarrassing if Mr. and Mrs. Wilson found us like this in the morning.”
“Mr. Wilson would just be jealous. He’s always watching me out the side of his eye.”
I propped up on one elbow. “Get the hell out of here. Mr. Wilson?”
“A man is a man, Junebug, he’s got needs.”
The conversation between Mr. Wilson and me about not getting involved with Fancy came back. Why, you old bastard. “That’s what Mrs. Wilson is for.” Maybe all those community men sitting in the church pews every Sunday spouting about loving their neighbors might have a whole other meaning.
“Every old cracker man thinks a young colored gal can’t wait to turn up her behind to him. He’ll come around to me one of these days.”
“What’ll you do if he does?”
Fancy hugged her chest, then rolled away from me. “Depends on whether he makes me or not.”
“You mean beat on you?”
“He wouldn’t have to do that. He could just say I go along with him or he’ll kick my folks off his farm.” She sounded angry at my stupidity. “What do you think I can do then? How you think all them high-yellows got that way?”
“You ain’t thinking of us like that, are you?” How cruel was it a person had to live waiting for a devil to come out of the shadows, helpless to fight back?
“Of course not.” Her voice softened. “I’m here because I want to be. We’re just a man and a woman to each other. Either one of us can walk away any time we want.”
“Why would we?”
Fancy pulled the sheet up to her neck and yawned. “Some folks just do, I reckon. Don’t want to be together no more.”
“I’d never walk away from you, Fancy, never.”
Wide awake there in the darkness, feeling the gentle movement of Fancy’s body against me with each even breath of sleep, I considered how so much of dealing with life stuff wasn’t about what a person knew, but what they didn’t know. What Fancy said about the power Mr. Wilson had over her made a knot
in the pit of my stomach. I’d seen him staring at Fancy when she walked. How could I have been so stupid not to understand?
My eyes began to close in spite of the tension in my mind. I jerked awake, reaching to make sure Fancy was still beside me. I buried my face into her hair and reached to cover her with my arms, kissing her shoulder, neck, and cheek, letting the touch, smell, and taste of her chase away the nightmare. When I ran my hand over her stomach Fancy stretched and yawned like a big cat. “You best quit that, Junebug, unless you can back it up.” She rolled to face me, at the same time sliding her leg over my hip, connecting us in the warmth of slow, easy, loving sex. As Fancy arched her back to absorb me completely, I whispered to her, “I’ll kill him if he ever touches you.”
CHAPTER 28
In June, Mr. Wilson took me to the highway patrol station to get my driver’s license. I was nervous as an old woman, but passed with no problem. Fancy was at the house when I got home. I showed her my shiny new license. “Come on, let’s go for a ride.” We drove to Apex, stopped at the gas station on Highway 64, and even rode by Fancy’s school so I could see it. The freedom to come and go as I pleased was a breath of air I needed.
By the middle of July, everybody was cleaning out barns, fixing up slides, and getting ready for the start of tobacco priming season. Gardens needed to be picked, and between that and other fieldwork, workdays were long; it was hard, but satisfying to know I was looking after myself.
Fancy and me had spent a long day pinching tobacco worms off leaves in the field, and sat on the porch after a supper of leftovers, hoping for a breeze to cool us. Even after dark, the humid, damp air lay heavy.
Lightning came out to sit with us. “Junebug, you need to take me to Durham.”
“What for?”
“Need to find somebody who can buy that marijuana when it’s ready.”
I leaned my chair back against the wall, lit a cigarette, and watched smoke float toward the wire screen. “How you going to do that?”
“I can stay a night or two with my auntie in Hayti. Don’t expect it’ll take long to locate the right person.”
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