East of Orleans

by Renee' Irvin

  Isabella had never heard Jules talk like this. This was a kind side of him that she had never seen. Maybe it was the whisky, but tonight she felt connected to him in a way she had never felt before. Jules was right: sometimes all you have is the moment. This night, amidst a longing for home and the Georgia rain, Isabella McGinnis let her husband make love to her while the storm clouds roared. But the rain and Jules’s love could not wash away her thoughts of Tom Slaughter.

  The next morning at the train station, Isabella was silent as she kissed Jules goodbye. Jules shook Jesse’s hand. “Take care of my girls,” he said, then turned to Isabella. “I want to know all about Shakerag when you return,”

  She nodded and held Elora tightly.

  When the train pulled into the station in Atlanta, a weary and pale Livie, along with Henry, picked the three of them up. Livie was excited to see Elora and fussed over her all the way to Shakerag.

  As Isabella stepped onto the ground and looked at the house, her mama was coming toward her. Isabella was dressed simply, but in high fashion. A light breeze billowed the skirts around her ankles. Her bonnet was not tied under her chin and its loose ribbons blew in the wind. Isabella clutched her little daughter’s hand and hurried up the steps to the front door.

  Lila McCoy lifted her tow-haired granddaughter into her arms and kissed her daughter’s cheek.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus, oh my baby, it’s so wonderful to have you home,” Lila said through her tears. “And look at this precious angel. Isn’t she beautiful? Oh lord, I can’t wait for Granny, to see her.”

  “How is she?”

  “I thought her hope was all but gone. Then she found out you were coming home and bringing the baby and she perked up and was able to sit up a spell. When we got your letter and found out that you married Jules, she ain’t done nothing but worry herself sick.”

  Jesse’s eyes turned to Isabella as he stepped inside the little wooden house.

  “I wanna see her, Mama.”

  Lila nodded. “She’s weak, but she’ll know who you are. She ain’t been knowing everybody; she didn’t know Henry this morning, but she’ll know you. You may have to talk a little loud, her hearing’s not so good.” Lila looked at Jesse with tender eyes. “Go on in there with her, son. She’ll be happy to see you. All she’s done is talk about what a fine boy you’ve turned out to be, taking care of our Isabella like you have.”

  Jesse choked up. “She’s a good woman. A mighty good woman.”

  Lila turned and left Isabella and Jesse in the room alone with Granny. She lay propped up against two feather pillows, dressed in a high neck cotton gown, her breathing slow and labored.

  “Hello, Granny,” Isabella said, leaning down and touching Granny’s face.

  “Oh darling, don’t you look pretty. I’ve worried about you—it’s a mighty cold day for you to be out.”

  Isabella gave Jesse a quizzical look. She took Granny’s icy-cold hands into hers.

  Granny looked at Jesse with weak eyes. “Son.” She reached for him and said, “Did you see the patch of cotton we planted?”

  Jesse hesitated and looked down at the floor. “I shure did. I reckon it’s as fine a patch of cotton as I ever seen.”

  Isabella didn’t remember seeing any cotton outside. “What cot—

  Jesse shot Isabella a look. “You must of worked awful hard to get cotton to look as good as dat. As a matter of fact, Granny, I don‘t remember in all my days ever seeing any cotton dat looks as fine as yours.”

  Granny smiled with pride. Then she turned to her granddaughter and gave Isabella a scolding look. Her voice had a renewed vigor to it. “Rollins Hartwell is as mean as a black snake and Jules McGinnis ain’t no better. For over two years you’ve been gone, we ain’t done a thing but worry ourselves sick.” Granny raised herself up in the bed. “I told your mama when we got your letter that it would be easier to baptize a cat than to get you hitched to the likes of Jules McGinnis!”

  Jesse cackled. Isabella blushed and glanced at Jesse with narrowed eyes.

  “You know you would never have to do a thing like that,” Granny went on. “Why, we planted this cotton and I believe that it’s gonna fetch enough to pay this place off. To think that you’d have to offer yourself to an old goat like McGinnis.”

  Isabella sat down on the edge of Granny’s bed and their eyes met. “Granny, I did marry Jules and he’s made me a good husband. Why, he said that he wanted to pay off the farm because he loves me so much. He said that if it weren’t for you and mama, he would have never had me and that was a way to show his appreciation. He really ain’t the man people thinks he is; he’s a good man.”

  Something twinkled behind Granny’s eyes. “A good man, my behind!”

  Isabella turned to Jesse, desperate for help.

  Jesse nodded and said, “Wait a minute, Granny, what makes you think she don’t love him? Mister Jules is as good to her as I ever seen a man be to any woman.”

  “What he do—give the two of you a pile of money?” Granny asked. Isabella suddenly felt humiliated. She knew that she had to convince Granny that she was in love with Jules. Even if she had to convince herself.

  “What about Elora, Granny? Don’t you want her to have a daddy? Jules is a good daddy to her. All little girls deserve a daddy.”

  Isabella turned and went to get Elora from her mother, who headed to the kitchen. She carried the toddler in her arms, took her to the edge of Granny’s bed, and sat her down.

  “Lord, have mercy. Look at this sweet angel.” Granny hugged Elora and kissed her on the face. “She’s a pretty thing, but she ain’t got a head full of curly red hair like you did when you were her age. You know you were always my favorite.” Granny looked at Jesse. “Right after she was born, we kept her in a hope chest. She was early and Miles hadn’t finished her crib, so I folded up a quilt and we made her a bed in the hope chest.”

  Jesse smiled and glanced warmly at Isabella.

  Granny’s eyes searched Jesse’s face. “You got that harmonica with you, son?”

  “Yessum.”

  She lay back for a moment. “Play something for me.”

  “What you want me to play?”

  “Can you play Amazing Grace?”

  Jesse nodded and placed the harmonica to his lips. Granny closed her eyes and hummed the melody. Isabella smiled at the lovely sounds of her favorite hymn. When Jesse finished playing, Granny said, “I’ve got something I want to give you, son.” Granny called out for Lila, and asked her to bring Miles’s gold pocket watch and a brown cardboard box. She gave the watch to Jesse and took out a pair of new shoes from the brown box. “Miles never got to wear these shoes,” Granny said to Jesse. “But now you’ll wear em.” Jesse leaned over and kissed Granny on the forehead.

  Isabella looked around the old house. Even in all this grief, there was love in this house, and it was here that Isabella first knew she was loved. Isabella closed her eyes and remembered the way her daddy smelled when he came in from the barn; the horses, the hay, the smell of new leather when he had just returned from the tannery in Buford. A kettle of beans boiling on the stove in the coldest of winter, hot cornbread with cool butter served by the white-haired woman that lay in the bed before her, who always called her “darling girl”, “sweet child”, and most often “my gal.”

  Granny asked for a few minutes alone with Jesse.

  Over the next few days, family and friends visited with Granny. Despite the old woman’s discomfort and difficulty breathing, Isabella felt that she had never seen Granny happier.

  Within the week, Granny died quietly in her sleep. Isabella sat in Granny’s room, holding the old woman’s stiff hand.

  In the afternoon, Tom Slaughter came by to try to talk her into leaving.

  Tom patted Isabella on the shoulder. “She’s gone on to a much better place. Come on, it’s time to let her go, they need to prepare her body.”

  “Can we go to the church cemetery?” asked Isabella.

  “Sure we can
. You want to go to your daddy’s grave?”

  Isabella nodded.

  The ride to the cemetery was silent. They did not exchange a word until Isabella climbed out of the buggy.

  “Isabella, I still can’t believe you’re gone. I see you everywhere I go. Sometimes I think I’m losing my mind.”

  “Tom, please let’s not talk about this now.”

  “Not now? Then when, Bella? After you’ve been gone a couple more years and had another kid or two? What happened? Did you change your dreams? Was I not good enough for you?”

  “It wasn’t that. Please, not now.”

  “You know, Bella, this may sound crazy to you, but it’s like you just ripped the pages out and threw them all away.”

  “My life ain’t a fairy tale, Tom. Don’t you think this is hard for me?”

  Isabella walked over to her daddy’s grave, knelt down and kissed the earth that entombed him. “I don’t know why I came here. Until I find out who killed my daddy, I never want to come here again,” she said as she ran back to the buggy.

  When Isabella and Tom arrived back at the house, it was filled with people. Isabella pulled back. “I don’t want to go in there and have to face them.”

  “Let’s take a walk,” said Tom.

  They went down to the river. It was serene there; just the familiar sound of the river rushing.

  “I heard you married that old bastard,” Tom said, resentment coloring his words. “You look good. Looks like you’ve done well for yourself. You probably got a real fine house and fancy clothes.” He picked her hand up and held it between them. “Did you sell yourself for a piece of rock that sparkles? Hell, I can remember when you used to catch butterflies, but I guess that girl is gone or maybe she never even existed.”

  Isabella turned away from him.

  “Tom, just leave it be. Why do you want to do this?”

  He took her by the shoulders and swung her back around.

  “Because I thought what happened down here on the river that day meant something to you. I thought I meant something to you, but I guess I was a damn crazy fool to think that an old country boy like me could ever compete with the likes of Jules McGinnis.”

  “We’d better go back now. What are people gonna say?”

  “I don’t give a damn what people say! Why’d you do it, Bella, why’d you take off like you did?”

  “You seen why! There was nowhere for me to go. Mama and Granny didn’t want me here.”

  Tom pulled her close to him. “Don’t go, don’t go back.”

  “I have to. You don’t understand.”

  “You’re right, I don’t understand.” He scanned her face; their eyes met.

  “Bella…”

  “Yes?”

  “Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll never bother you again.”

  He pulled her hips up close and kissed her hard on the mouth. “Who is Elora’s daddy, Isabella, who?” he whispered.

  Isabella could not speak. She pulled away and ran through the woods back to the house.

  The mourners at Granny’s funeral seemed more interested in what Isabella was wearing or hearing any words exchanged between her and Tom Slaughter. She was aware of their insincere remarks and had it not been for Tom, she would have wished herself back in Savannah and in the home of the man who seemed to want to protect her.

  The funeral went on forever. Three preachers spoke, and then at the end, Jesse played Amazing Grace on his harmonica.

  Isabella remained behind at the church after the funeral. The sky turned an orange gray and the sun was about to set over Shakerag Valley. Isabella was putting flowers on little Henry’s grave when a familiar voice came up behind her.

  “I think it was rude of my new aunt not letting me know that she was in town, don’t you?” said Jacob Hartwell.

  Isabella’s hands started shaking. Her face drained of color and her eyes were enormous. She stood up and swung around in a rage. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to show yourself here!”

  “Yes, well, I thought it would be unforgiving if I let my Uncle Jules’ wife see herself home all alone through these woods--.”

  “Jesse!” screamed Isabella. “Jesse!”

  “You can scream as long as you like, but your nigger ain’t gonna answer. He’s helping your boyfriend move your mama’s things over to your sister’s for the night.” He looked her up and down like a hungry animal. “Of course, the truth is that don’t bother me at all; it’s been too long, way too long. Why don’t you encourage me like you did last time? I like it when you kick and holler.”

  Isabella didn’t dare move.

  “Let me go.”

  “Nobody’s keeping you here.”

  She looked into his face; his expression was cold and hard, exactly like it was that day.

  He looked back at her. His dark eyes flickered. “There’s a part of me that couldn’t wait for that old woman to die. I knew when she did that you’d come back.”

  “You come near me and I swear I’ll kill you, Jacob Hartwell!”

  He spit out a twig he’d been chewing on. “Whatever gave you the notion that you were gonna do a goddamn thing?” Jacob shook his head.

  Then the expression on his face changed, his blond hair blew in the wind, he pulled her close to him and said in a low voice, “Had I known about the little girl, I might have done something for you. She ain’t mine if that’s worried you, but I could still be her daddy. A pretty little girl like her could use a daddy.”

  At that moment, Tom came up. Isabella wanted to run to him and tell him everything. She wanted to tell him about the rape and Jacob’s threats. Her mind raced, she wondered if Jacob had killed her daddy. She wanted to scream out the truth, but she was afraid of what Jacob would do to the people she loved most.

  Tom stood there for a moment and stared hard at Jacob. “Hartwell, what you doing here?”

  Jacob turned around and started speaking without looking at Tom. “I come down to the church to pay my respects to Isabella’s granny. Her now being family and all.” He smiled and curled his bottom lip. “I was surprised to find her out here all alone. I stayed long enough to offer her a way home,” Jacob said with a twinkle in his eyes.

  Tom turned to Isabella. “Is that right?”

  “He startled me, that’s all.”

  Tom gave Jacob an icy stare. “I’d pity the man that let something happen to her.”

  “Can I see you home?” Jacob asked Isabella.

  “My ma’s at her house; I’ll see her home,” said Tom with a firm voice.

  “I’m sure my uncle Jules will be appreciative,” Jacob said with a smirk, as he mounted his horse and rode away.

  “Get in the wagon,” Tom said gently to Isabella. “What have I told you bout wandering around too late in the afternoon by yourself? I hope you don’t do this in Savannah.”

  He still cares for me. Isabella felt a sudden joy fill her heart.

  They rode in silence. When Tom pulled the buggy in front of the house, it was darker than Isabella had ever remembered it being. Tds l lit abever rould never remered it being.er sleep “Your mama and Jesse have gone over to Livie’s. They’re gonna stay there tonight. I told them I’d wait on you to gather some things and I’d take you over.”

  “Thank you.”

  “When you going back?”

  “Day after tomorrow.”

  Isabella blinked away tears. Tom placed his hand under her chin. “I thought I could quit caring about you; I even tried, but it was no use.” Tom looked into her eyes. “If I felt in my gut that you wanted things this way, then I would let you go, but my heart don’t tell me that.”

  “Tom, don’t. Not now.”

  “Is Elora my daughter?” Tom asked in a soft voice.

  “Don’t ask me things I cannot answer now.”

  “It don’t matter if she ain’t mine. I’d love her just the same. But you know something, Bella, I feel she is mine. You ever had that feeling? Just knowing something belonged to
you and nobody had to tell you.” Tom gazed in her eyes, “It’s kind of like I felt the first time I kissed you.” Tom gently kissed Isabella on the mouth.

  “Tom, what if somebody sees us out here?”

  “I’ve never been bothered about what anybody says.” The expression on Tom’s face changed. “How does he treat you?”

  “He works all the time. He’s at that warehouse from morning till night, and when he’s not there, he’s either over at Beaufort checking on his sharecroppers or playing poker. I really don’t see much of him. I think he cares more about the price of cotton than he does me. But he’s a good man and he cares about me.”

  “Cares about you, my ass! I want to know if you want him in your bed?”

  She turned her head and would not look at him. “He’s my husband.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Don’t do this to me; I am not the same girl that you once knew.”

  “Well, show me who you are.” Tom took a deep breath. “Isabella McCoy, there’s more to this and I aim to find out if it kills me.”

  “Take me to Livie’s,” said Isabella.

  Earlier the same evening, Jules locked up his desk and started home when he noticed Priscilla out on Bay Street. She was in the center of some Negro women who had gathered up their baskets for the day and were heading home. Jules walked up to Priscilla and saw her huddled over a deck of cards. One of the women shrugged her shoulders, threw down a coin and left.

  “You won yet?” Jules said to Priscilla as he lit his cigar.

  “Naw, sir--.”

  “You look mighty busy.”

  “Ise might as well be busy here as over yonder.”

  “Why is that?”

  Priscilla threw down her cards and stood up to look Jules in the eyes. “Dat woman of yours, she done lost her mind. Dat is if she ever had one to begin with. I do believe dat ol’ cat she keep, that half dead ol’ thing, has got a better mind than dat woman.”