by Janie DeVos
Early the following morning, Papa and I took the wagon to the turpentine camp outside of Sharpe’s Ferry landing. He needed to buy some pitch, which was made from turpentine, to seal some newly formed cracks on the May Breeze. I was happy Papa and I had a few hours to spend alone.
We took the trail at a slow pace. It was already hot even though it was still early, and we didn’t want to tire Maggie needlessly. Besides, the trip gave us a chance to talk about the turpentine business. Papa knew far more than I did, but I did know that the farming of the resin or “gum” from the pines was slowly but surely erasing them from the land. As soon as the trees were no longer giving sap, the timber companies came in and cut them down. The greed of both industries was changing the landscape of Florida in the most destructive way, and the more my father told me about how extreme the situation had gotten, the madder I got. I certainly understood that people needed to live off the bounty of the land, but there was no excuse for rendering the land useless for decades to come. I couldn’t help but think of James, and how he’d been put into the uncomfortable position of having to take part in that destruction to earn enough money to go to college. I was glad he was away from it now. I also thought of dear David, who had large dreams and plans for the future—a future that now included me. While I understood that people had all kinds of justifiable reasons for using the land, it didn’t always sit well with me. However, I also understood that nothing was going to stop progress, especially in a place that was a virtual blank canvas just waiting for developers, architects, and industries to apply their brushes to it.
By the week’s end, I’d finished gathering all my information for the turpentine story, and I’d also taken care of the one very important wedding detail I needed to deal with while I was home, and that was my dress. Even with all the fine dress makers in Jacksonville, I wanted Mama to sew the most important gown I would ever wear. She was a highly skilled seamstress, mainly because she loved it so, and spent many an hour perfecting her handiwork. She’d made countless pieces of clothing for everyone in the family, and I’d inherited the love of sewing from her.
Though I hated the fact that we couldn’t work on it together, I was grateful that she was willing to do all the work on the fine satin and lace we’d ordered through Mrs. Brody. I knew that the elegant but simple pattern we’d designed together would turn out to be a beautiful creation. But while the dress would come from Silver Springs, the wedding and the reception would take place in Jacksonville.
When I’d driven David to the Silver Springs landing to catch his steamboat home, we’d discussed some preliminary plans for our wedding. Both he and I had agreed that it would be easiest to be married in Jacksonville, and in October, so we picked October 16. Because his work schedule was so tight, and the accommodations were far better than they were in Silver Springs, Jacksonville seemed like the best place for the wedding. It would also be more convenient for his parents to make a train trip there and not have to continue to Silver Springs by boat. My parents could easily travel on one of the steamers up to the city and would be excited to do so. It seemed like the most reasonable rendezvous point for everyone. Once I returned to Jacksonville, David and I would visit with the pastor of the First United Methodist Church about holding our wedding there, and then we’d work on arrangements for our reception at the elegant St. James Hotel. It was the perfect place, not just because of its opulence and beauty but also because it was the place where we’d met and it would always hold a special spot in our hearts.
The one thing that diluted my joy was the far-from-perfect situation with Ivy.
My sister hadn’t shown up at the general store the day before to help pick out the material for her maid-of-honor dress, and I was more irritated than worried. It was Sunday morning, and I’d volunteered to wash up the breakfast dishes so that Mama and Papa could get on to church. My boat departed a little after two o’clock, and I still needed to bathe and pack before leaving, so I’d excused myself from going to the morning’s service. As I finished putting away the plates, I could hear Ivy moving around upstairs. She was finally awake.
I’d heard her come in during the middle of the night, and I knew that she’d been down at the docks helping Mayoma fix one of the worker’s hands, which had been caught between a piling and a steamboat as it docked. Making matters worse was the fact that the man’s arm had been badly cut, too, and they were having trouble stopping the bleeding from one of his arteries. Papa had returned from a late run and had come upon the scene. He hadn’t stayed long enough to see how things had worked out for the man, but at least I didn’t have to wonder if my sister was off with Moses again. By the time Ivy got home, everyone was asleep, including me, and she’d been quiet as a church mouse so as not to disturb me. Either that or she didn’t want to wake me and then have to explain what had been more important than meeting Mama and me at the general store. I hated to be so doubtful of the fact that she might, in fact, have been quiet out of consideration, but it was hard for me to judge Ivy’s motives and actions. And more and more, I felt I knew her less and less.
Ivy walked into the kitchen as I finished washing the skillet. “Morning,” she said. “Is there any coffee left?”
“There’s some. It’s still hot.” I handed her a freshly washed cup.
“Eve.” Her back was to me as she poured her coffee from the pot at the back of the stove. “I’m sorry I didn’t meet you at the store yesterday.” She still wouldn’t meet my eyes when she went to sit at the table. I didn’t join her. Instead, I turned my back to her and started wiping down the counter.
“Ivy, why is it you always come running when a stranger needs you, but you’re never there when it’s important to someone in your own family?”
“Lord, Eve, a man was bleeding to death last night. Of course, I had to go tend to him!”
“I understand that, Ivy, but we were supposed to meet in the afternoon, hours before that man got hurt. You’ve always got somewhere else to go and someone else to see about. I wanted you with me yesterday. This is a special time for me, and I wanted you there. Besides, I needed you to look at those material samples for your dress. They had a nice blue, and a green—”
“I can’t be there—at the wedding, Eve.” I quickly turned to face her, but she still wouldn’t look at me. Instead, she kept her eyes averted, staring down at her cup. I could see that her hands were shaking, so much so that some of her coffee sloshed out of the cup.
“I don’t understand! Why, Ivy? Of course, you’ve got—”
“I can’t be there, Eve! I can’t be!” She finally looked up at me, and I could see that she was fighting back tears. “I’m having a baby, Eve. Moses and I have to go away.”
“Oh, God. Oh, my God, Ivy. How long have you known? Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“I’ve known for a couple of weeks. I wanted to tell you, Eve. I was gonna tell you at Papa’s party, but then the storm came up. I couldn’t send you a wire before that. Can you imagine me telling Mrs. Brody to please send you a wire saying that I was having Moses’s baby and needed to leave?”
“You white trash whore!” The deep voice came from behind me, and I quickly spun around to see my parents standing at the kitchen window. Mama was as white as a sheet, but Papa’s face was bright red, and his eyes bulged from anger.
Horrified, Ivy and I couldn’t even begin to move, but my father could. He yanked open the screened door, breaking it off the top hinge. Ivy jumped up from her chair, spilling her coffee all over as she pushed herself away from the table. But before she could turn to run, our father backhanded her with enough force that it sent her flying into the pantry door, cracking it from top to bottom. Stunned, she began to slide down the fractured door, but I pulled her up, placing myself between her and Papa, who was coming for her again. By then, Mama had hold of Papa’s arm and held him back while pleading with him to stop.
“Ivy, go!” I said as I pulled
her toward the screened door. “Get out, now!”
“I swear to God I’m gonna beat that bastard baby outta ya!”
Papa threw off Mama’s hold on him and started to go after my sister. But just as he charged by me, I stuck my foot out, tripping him and sending him sprawling across the threshold of the door. Throwing myself across him, I pinned him down as Ivy ran into the corral to get Sage. The horse wasn’t saddled, but there was no time to put one on. Instead, my sister grabbed the horse’s mane, pulled herself onto its back, and flew down the trail. For several seconds, no one said a word, and then my father pushed himself up and me off him. He brushed himself off, walked over to the cabinet, and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He poured a long shot, threw it back, then turned, and pinned Mama and me with a look that dared us to move or say anything. He didn’t have to worry; we were frozen in place.
The wickedest expression played across his face, one that I’d never seen before on anyone, much less my own father. Then he said in a voice that matched the look, “I’m gonna hunt down that girl, and I’m gonna find her. And when I do, I’m gonna kill her and that little brown bastard baby of hers. Then I’m gonna do things to her little darkie boyfriend that’ll make him sorry he ever laid eyes on a white girl, much less his hands, until he begs me to kill him, too.”
Chapter 18
Choosing Sides
After Papa took another shot of whiskey, he calmly walked into his bedroom. Mama followed him, trying to talk some sense into him. I heard drawers opening and closing as I waited in the living room. Several minutes later, he came out, followed by Mama. Over his shoulder was a full canvas bag. He walked past me without saying a word, picked the whiskey bottle up off the counter, stored it in his bag, and walked out the broken kitchen door.
“He’s goin’ after her,” Mama softly said as we both stared out the window. “He’s packed clothes, and he’s got two handguns with him. He means business, Eve. He means to take ’em all down.” We watched Papa saddle his new horse, Zeus, one-handedly, and secure his bag to the animal. Finally, he hoisted himself up and rode off without looking back.
“Where’s he goin’, Mama? Did he give you any idea?”
“He said he’s gonna track her down. And I know your father ain’t no great tracker, so I’d be willin’ to bet he’s gone in search of one. Didn’t that cook friend of his—Alfonso Kite—used to do some trackin’? I could swear I’ve heard your father say somethin’ about that; Alfonso was a tracker for the North in the war, maybe? I dunno. I can’t remember right now. Truthfully, I can’t remember much about nothin’ at the moment. Lord, God, what has Ivy gone and gotten herself into?” Mama was actually wringing her hands. I’d only seen her do that when she was extremely upset or worried. At the moment, she was a whole lot of both.
“Mama,” I said, turning from the window that now looked out at an empty yard. “I’m gonna find her—hopefully before Papa does.”
“What? How, Eve? How in the world you gonna do that? She may go to Mayoma’s first to warn Moses, but then she’ll move out fast, knowin’ that’s the first place your daddy’ll go, too. Lord only knows where she’ll go. But I’d be willing to bet one thing, and that’s that Moses will be with her. You ain’t gonna find ’em, Eve.”
“I’ve got to try. I’ve got to find her before Papa does. I don’t know if Ivy’ll think that after some time he’ll cool off, and she can come on back. But after what he said to us, there’ll be no time when it’s safe for her to come home, especially if he keeps drinkin’. I’ve got to let her and Moses know to stay gone. And if I can’t talk some sense into them, then maybe I can with Papa. If I can’t convince her to stay gone, then maybe I can convince him to just let her go.”
“What about your boat to Jacksonville, Eve?
“Right now, Ivy’s my main concern. She’s my twin sister. I’ve got to try to find her before blood is spilled.” I started up the stairs with Mama close on my heels.
“But, Eve, if your father needs help trackin’ her, then how you think you’re gonna find her?”
“I’m gonna get some help, too.” Dumping out the few things I’d already packed in my satchel, I quickly got out of the cotton dress I’d thrown on before breakfast, then hurried into my brothers’ room, and riffled through their closet and drawers, pulling out the things I needed. After donning a pair of James’s old denim work pants and a canvas shirt and stuffing more of his clothing into my satchel, I hurried back to my closet and found Ivy’s hunting moccasins. On one hand, I wished she had them. On the other, I was glad for them. Finally, I had all that I needed and hurried downstairs. Opening the drawer of the desk that sat in the corner of the living room, I took a box of rifle shells, then reached up and retrieved the shotgun from over the doorway. Papa never used it. It was too difficult to handle with one hand, but he was a sure shot with his handguns.
“I’m takin’ Maggie, Mama. I’m sorry to leave you without a horse—or a gun.” I smiled weakly at her.
“Eve, don’t you go! You’re gonna get yourself kilt before you can ever find her!” She’d followed me outside. “You can’t track that girl alone!”
“I know it, Mama.”
“But, who you think is gonna help you?”
“Max Harjo—at least I pray he will,” I said as I walked out to Maggie.
Chapter 19
In the Beginning
When I got to the Silver Springs landing, the steamboat Athens was just pulling in. It was the boat I was supposed to take out of there. My heart was divided. I knew what had to be done, but it didn’t help the ache inside, knowing that my plans for the future were presently on hold. Before going in search of Max, I needed to leave a note asking Mrs. Brody to please send a wire first thing Monday morning to my boss, Charles Jones, and to David’s office in Jacksonville, telling them that I was delayed because of a family emergency and would be in touch as soon as possible. I knew I owed more of an explanation to David, but I couldn’t say any more in my wire without the whole town talking. I stuck the note beneath the door of the general store, along with a dollar to pay for the wires, and headed over to the hunters’ meat racks. Because it was Sunday, fewer people were around, but because the boats came in and out seven days a week and needed to resupply, some of the hunters could always be found there with fresh kills.
I spotted Tom Bigelow and Rayne Longwood by the racks and walked over to them. There was no disguising the look of surprise on their faces as they both assessed my unusual outfit. “Why, Miss Eve,” Tom drawled, “you plannin’ on doin’ some huntin’ with us today?” He smiled, displaying a mouthful of tobacco-stained teeth. “I’d be happy to show you how to pull my trigger.” His laugh was as ugly as his teeth.
I had no time to waste, especially not on his vulgar jokes. “Mr. Bigelow, have you seen my father or Max Harjo”?
“Can’t say that I have. You, Rayne?”
“Not since yesterday,” the quieter man of the two answered. “Max never comes on Sunday, ’less he’s got a real big kill.”
“Where would I find him?” I asked, looking from man to man.
“Why, I can’t rightly say,” Tom replied. “But I’d try his place, I guess. Wouldn’t you say, Rayne?”
“Yeah, I s’pose. He stays over near the Silver River—just a few miles from here.”
“You know, little lady, they’s lots o’ things that can get ya—goin’ into them woods.” Tom grinned. “He’s pretty far back, ya know. But I’d be happy to show ya, if you’d—”
“It’s not necessary, Mr. Bigelow. I’ll find my way.” Wasting no more time, I turned to leave.
Tom spat a wad of tobacco juice, then asked as an afterthought. “Why ya huntin’ him anyway, if ya don’t mind my askin’.”
“I mind,” I called over my shoulder, and the sound of their laughter followed me as I remounted Maggie and headed out of town.
Silver River was fe
d by Silver Springs, and it connected the spring to the Ocklawaha River. What the Silver River lacked in length, it made up for in beauty. As I made my way west along the river, the low vegetation grew thicker around me, forcing me to slow my pace. I needed to watch for snakes and alligators resting in the shade. Another threat was the shrubbery itself. It was made up of sharp-edged scrub and saw palmettos. The low growing plants cut like a fine-toothed saw, so I worked my way through them carefully to avoid tearing Maggie’s legs to shreds.
After fifteen minutes of fighting my way through the vegetation, I finally came to a large clearing. Sitting in the center of it, within a circle of sunlight, was a small, neatly built log cabin. All the pine needles had been carefully swept away, leaving room for a good-sized and well-tended garden on one side of the cabin. Because it was the hottest time of the year, only some okra and hot peppers were growing in a small section of it while the remainder of the garden looked as though it had already been prepared for the fall planting.
I rode to the other side of the cabin. Beyond the yard was a small, well-cared-for citrus grove. It looked like there were grapefruit and tangerines growing, but because it was the middle of summer, the fruits were very young and hard to distinguish from one another. A smokehouse stood at the edge of the yard, though I didn’t see any smoke coming from the pipe on the roof. To the left of the smokehouse was a large drying rack with large pieces of meat hanging from it and a large wooden bloodstained table that was obviously used for butchering. There was no sign of life at the moment, and I didn’t know if the cabin even belonged to Max, but I’d seen no other homesteads thus far. Whether it belonged to him or not, I needed to make my presence known before I found myself face to face with the wrong end of a shotgun.
