Come Juneteenth

by Ann Rinaldi

  I heard him talking to the river man about Heffernan. "Yeah, he come this way, last night afore the rain," the man said. "Pretty little girl he had with him, but I got the feelin' they weren't hitched. She didn't even talk to him."

  Although the river was somewhat swollen by last night's rains, the trip across was uneventful. I held on to my horse's reins to steady myself. And to steady her. Gabe did the same with his horse. Of course the mule was as steady as a rock with all the supplies it was carrying.

  On the other side we stepped onto a wharf and once on steady ground again, Gabe began to go through the contents of the bags the mule was carrying.

  He gave the freedmen a goodly piece of bacon, some corn, and flour, and directed them to a plantation nearby where they could work for wages.

  "Why do you give away so much?" I asked him as we continued on.

  He didn't answer for a moment and then, like Rooney Lee, he told me. "There shouldn't be any split in this country, Luli. We're all one country. Pa and Granville and I were never for secession. But we fought for Texas, Granville and I. And only lately, with this business with Sis Goose, do I realize how we've wronged the negroes. It's going to take a long time to get back on our feet again, but we can make up for some of it along the way."

  It was the longest speech I'd ever heard him make.

  "Pa never mistreated his negroes," I said.

  "Slavery is mistreatment. Look what I've done to Sis Goose. But to talk that way during the war could earn you a hangman's rope around here. And we're, none of us, prepared in any way, for running our places without the negroes. I'm thinking of hiring some Scottish laborers. I hear they are hard workers. Because, in time, our negroes will drift off. Look, up ahead, does that seem like a town to you?"

  I peered over what seemed like miles of wildflowers and did see some building in the distance against the hard blue sky. "Yes."

  "It must be Fort Chivatato. The fort's long abandoned, but there is still supposed to be a sort of town there."

  As we got closer we could see the dilapidated buildings huddled against the endless Texas sky. There were about four places of business and six homes. One house was larger, with a two-story balcony that didn't look strong enough to stand on, and windows that gaped at you.

  When we got closer we could see a sign banging in a sudden wind that seemed to blow through the forlorn town. BOARDINGHOUSE, it read.

  Outside several horses were hobbled. One had USA branded on its rump and sported a saddle blanket of blue that said the same thing in gold letters.

  In the background, about half a mile away, loomed the old log fort. Deserted.

  "They're here," Gabe said.

  He retreated a little to a nearby grove of cottonwood trees and I followed. "We'll just wait here a bit. He's planning to go somewhere. Else the horse would be in back in the barn."

  So we waited. We got off our horses and crouched behind the tree trunks. Gabe had his rifle at the ready and so I took mine from its sling on my saddle and cradled it in my arms. Bees droned and up ahead in the town a man crossed the street where suddenly rolls of tumbleweed were blowing and dust was picking up. He had an old hound dog at his heels. He went into a building with a sign that read SALOON, and the dog waited outside on the wooden walk.

  In a little while the front door of the boardinghouse opened and a man came out.

  Heffernan. Still in his Yankee uniform, though it and his boots looked hard worn.

  He stood there, lighted a cheroot, and cupped the light with his hands. Then he took a deep draught and continued standing there, looking around.

  "Hold still," Gabe cautioned.

  Then Heffernan went back to the front door, held it open, and stood talking with someone. "Half an hour." The wind carried the words to us as if they were in a tunnel.

  He got on his horse and rode down to the end of the street, where he went into the saloon.

  Gabe got up. "Get that blue cloak of yours out," he said to me.

  I stared at him as if he had taken leave of his senses.

  "Go on, do as I say."

  I searched clumsily in the saddlebag until I found the blue velvet cloak. "Put it on," Gabe directed. "You're going inside and you're going to find Sis Goose. I'll stay out here in case he comes back sooner than half an hour."

  I put the cloak on, not wanting to argue with him. At this moment he brooked no argument. "I'll look like a butterfly in a grave, wearing this in there," I told him.

  He paid me no mind. Just got up and adjusted the cloak around me and clasped it at the neck. "I want you to look like that to Sis Goose. Here," and he fished in his saddlebag and brought out hers, shook it out, and gave it to me. "Give it to her."

  "What do I say to her if she's in there?" I asked.

  "Ask her to come out. Tell her I'll handle Heffernan, not to worry. Ask her if she'll come home with us. Do I have to tell you what to say? You're the one who has secrets with her. She's been like a sister to you since you were born. Now leave your gun." He took it. "You've got about twenty-five minutes."

  "Wouldn't it be better if you went, Gabe?"

  "No." His face was like a mask. "She's mad as hell at me for not telling her she was free. I'd need an hour to convince her otherwise. You go ahead. And give her the cloak. It'll remind her of things. Go on now."

  He spoke to me as if I were ten years old. But I went. Across the dusty ground, up the steps to the boarding-house, and then through the door. I didn't bother to knock.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  INSIDE THE front room was a desk, behind which a grizzly old man stood. "You want something, Missy?" he asked. "We got rooms, nice enough."

  "No. I'm looking for Rose Smith. A young woman who—"

  "Doan have no Rose Smith registered."

  "She's with Colonel Heffernan." I near choked on the name.

  "Oh, that one. Room 3D. You say you are?"

  "Didn't say, but she's my sister."

  "Go on up the stairs. Right at the end of the hallway."

  I hurried up. Twenty-five minutes, Gabe had said. How long would it take to convince Sis Goose to come with me? Would I have to convince her? I made swift time down the hallway. Some of the doors were not marked, but there, at the end, was the room. It said 3D, but the D was hanging half off. The woodwork was dark, and although it was a bright day outside none of the brightness seemed to come in the one window at the end of the hall.

  I clutched her blue velvet cloak against my breast and knocked on the door. Softly. There were footsteps inside and it opened a crack.

  Through that crack I saw her familiar beautiful brown eyes, saw them go wide, heard her gasp, "Luli!"

  The door creaked as it opened. I just stood there and she reached out for me and hugged me as if we'd never been parted. "Luli, what are you doing here? How did you find me?"

  And then it came to her. "Gabe?"

  "He's downstairs. Outside, Sis. We came after you. We saw Heffernan go into the saloon down the street. We know we have only half an hour."

  "The saloon, yes. If he's there, it'll be more than half an hour. He told me he was going to see the old fort. Oh, Luli, why did you come?"

  She almost wailed it. Sorrowfully.

  "To bring you home. Come on now, there's no time for questions. Get your things together. And here." I held out the blue cloak. "Remember this? Gabe would like you to wear it."

  She whirled on me. Her eyes blazed. "Gabe! Does he think he still has the right to tell me what to do? I'm free now, and I'm not a little girl any longer."

  It took me by surprise, much as I feared it would happen. "Gabe loves you, Sis. He wants to get you away from Heffernan."

  She put the cloak around her shoulders in front of a dirty mirror. The room had a bed and a nightstand and a slop bucket. No rugs on the floor. Tattered lace curtains on the windows. I shuddered.

  "Thank you for bringing this. Tell Mama that it'll help cover my delicate condition. Remember we used to play at one of us being in a del
icate condition?"

  "Yes, I remember." She showed, even with the cape on. Oh, what would I say to Gabe when she came down?

  "How we laughed! Well, I can tell you, Luli, it's nothing to laugh about. I'm carrying a baby, a real live baby." Tears were in her eyes, and she drew the blue cloak over her tummy.

  "Gabe's baby," I reminded her.

  "Did you ever tell him?"

  "No."

  She gasped. "Why?" She turned to me.

  "Because I kept my promise to you. I owed you that."

  "And nobody else knows, either?"

  "No."

  "My God. What would they all say?"

  "It's up to you to tell them, Sis. You wanted it that way."

  "My mother died having me. Do you think I'll die, Luli?"

  "No. Not if you come home with us and are properly cared for. Mama will get you a doctor."

  "The colonel says he knows how to deliver babies. Learned it in the army. Says he's going to take care of me, Luli."

  "Why would you want to go with him?"

  She turned to me. "He gave me freedom."

  "Then why did everyone we meet on the way here tell us you acted as if you didn't want to be with him? One person said he had your hands tied."

  She looked out the window. "I can't go back with you and Gabe, even if I wanted to. Heffernan says if I run off, he'll find me and kill me. And my child. I don't care for myself, Luli. But I care for my baby. Maybe with the third generation it'll have some luck in the world."

  "Gabe will protect you," I promised. "Always."

  "Oh?" She turned on me. "The way he protected me from the truth of my being free?"

  "Sis, I did, too. We had to. And so did Mama and Pa. And you know how they love you."

  "But Gabe's love was supposed to be different." Tears came down her face and her chest heaved. She wiped her face with her hand. "Why didn't he come up instead of sending you? Sent you to do his dirty work for him."

  "Sis." I took a step toward her. "Because he saw Heffernan leave. Heard him say he'd be back in half an hour. Because he's waiting for him. Come on, Sis, you can't pretend that you don't love Gabe. I know you. I know you do."

  "Of course I do! I love him and I hate him for what he did to me. But if it wasn't for Heffernan's threat to kill me, at least I'd go down and give Gabe what-for. Then I'd think about forgiving him. Now that isn't possible."

  "Oh, Sis, come on with me, please. We can work all these other things out. Gabe loves you so much that I think he'll die if you don't come with us. And I want you, too. We all do. You know, Pa is dying. And he wants to see you again."

  That struck her. "Pa? Dying?"

  "Yes. He's going fast, too. Likely he's lying there in his bed right now just waiting to see you first before he dies."

  I was being unfair, I knew it. But I had to use everything I had.

  She bit her lower lip and dropped her eyes. "You'd better go. He may be back any minute."

  "I ... can't ... go, Sis. Not without you."

  "You want Heffernan to shoot Gabe? He will, you know. He's crazy enough. And he'll shoot you, too. So go."

  "What'll I tell Gabe?"

  "Oh God. Tell him I love him. Tell him anything. That if he loves me and doesn't want me to be killed, he'll leave. That he'll find someone else. Explain things to Pa and Mama. Tell them I'm sorry."

  She was ushering me from the room as she spoke. I was at the door. I took one last look at her. "I can shoot a gun, you know. And if you think Gabe is going to just leave on your say-so, then you're crazy, too."

  She hugged me. "I'm going to keep the cloak, Luli. Thank you. Thank Gabe for coming. Tell him I'm happy."

  "You're carrying his child!"

  "Go, Luli, go. And don't ever run off with a scoundrel."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  I WENT SWIFTLY downstairs and out the door. I looked up the street. Far at the end I saw a figure on horseback, talking with some other Yankee soldiers who were likely visiting the town. Heffernan!

  "Luli, come quick," Gabe called softly.

  I scooted to him under the cottonwood trees.

  "He's coming back," Gabe said in a harsh whisper. "Where is she? Where's Sis?"

  "She ... won't ... come ... down. I'm sorry, Gabe. I did my best."

  "Still sees me as the master and her as the slave, is that it? Else Heffernan has got her seeing things that way."

  "She said she loves you and she hates you. She said, too, that Heffernan would track her down and kill her if she left him for you."

  Something inside me wouldn't let me tell him about the baby. Even now. Especially now, because he'd go crazy if he knew.

  "Well, he's going to have to get past me to do it."

  I picked up my rifle and cocked it. "I'll help you. Tell me what to do."

  "Just watch my back. I'm going to demand he bring her down and hand her over. After all, he kidnapped her when he deserted."

  "Gabe, there are other Yankee soldiers in the saloon."

  "Just a gang having a last drink before they go home. They don't want a fight any more than Ma does. If he kills me," and he turned to look at me, "don't stay around. Get on your horse and go. Take my horse, too, and go back to the nuns in San Felipe. Write to Ma and she'll send someone to escort you home. You've got to promise me."

  I promised him.

  It took forever for Heffernan to reach the boarding-house. I could hear my heart beating. What was that other noise? Gabe's? Who was that behind the tattered lace curtain on the second floor? It was room 3D, I was sure of it. The curtains parted, and then someone was wiping the dust off the windows with a hand.

  That someone was still wearing the blue cloak, I could see. And I thought, crazily, again, that if she came downstairs onto the porch with Heffernan, Gabe would see she was carrying a child.

  Heffernan finally reached the boardinghouse, dismounted his horse, and without looking around started up the steps.

  Two things happened then: Sis Goose came clattering down the steps and appeared on the porch, and Gabe stood up in full view and said, "Hold it right there, Heffernan."

  "Who the hell are you?" Heffernan asked, pulling out his own revolver. And I was reminded that he'd never met Gabe before.

  "It's Gabe," we heard Sis tell him. "I think he's come for me."

  "Gabe, is it? Oh, so this is the massa's son who didn't even have to go down to the quarters at night to get what he wanted. Who had it right in his own house. This is the massa's son who's been at you till he got you pregnant. Show him how far gone you are, Sis Goose," and he unlatched the cloak and pulled it off from her.

  And there, in the light of God's good day, you could see her rounded belly.

  "You see that, Gabe?" Heffernan yelled. "There's what you did and I'm willing to care for."

  "Noooo," Gabe yelled and leaned over his rifle and aimed at Heffernan. But Heffernan fired first. The shot was loud and seemed to echo right through town and bounce off the old boards of buildings and bring out the people.

  Gabe doubled over and clutched himself, and I thought, Oh God, dear God, don't let him be hurt bad.

  I went to him and leaned over him. "Gabe?"

  "It's my shoulder. But I can get one shot in."

  "Let me do it."

  "I have to try, Luli. You have to let me."

  He stood up and Heffernan waited, laughing.

  "Gabe, don't," Sis Goose begged.

  "Move out of the way, Sis," he said.

  She moved, a big answer to him on her part, and Gabe fired but missed. Between his bleeding shoulder and the knowledge of Sis Goose carrying his child, he was completely undone.

  He slumped down. "He's all yours, hon," he said to me. "Give it your best. Remember what we taught you."

  I stood up and took aim.

  Heffernan laughed. "So he sends his little sister to do his fighting for him now."

  "She's good," Sis Goose said. She'd moved back to Heffernan.

  "I'm wearin' proof o
f it," he said. "This little witch is crazy."

  "Move, Sis," I barked at her. A hundred words I wanted to say, but that was all that was good for now.

  "Don't, Luli, please. Don't you remember?" she asked.

  "I don't because you don't. You use your memories and hopes to play people, so I don't, now move."

  Heffernan pushed her away and aimed at me. No going back now. I aimed true, steady, unafraid, as I'd been taught. Then I fired.

  Just as I took aim, or some second in eternity afterward, Heffernan pulled Sis Goose toward him. More in front of him, to be exact.

  There. In that spot where the heart is.

  This time the shot didn't ring out. This time there was a deathly thud and it stopped, right in the center of Sis Goose's forehead.

  She took the shot for him. Not because she wanted to but because he wanted her to. She took it and crumpled right at his feet.

  Sis Goose was dead. I screamed. I remember screaming and screaming, and I remember Gabe crawling over to me, and with one arm around me saying, "Stop it, Luli, stop it!" All half delirious-like. And then, raising his head to look at the porch of the boardinghouse, and saying, "Oh my God, what's happened? Oh my God!"

  And then I do not remember any more. At all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  HERE IS WHAT they told me happened next.

  There were people in the town after all. Half a dozen of them came running on hearing the gunshots. And those soldiers came who were on their way home.

  All of them still very much officers, one of them a doctor, like the whole thing had been planned by the gods. First they had to decide who was in charge. Then they had to see to Sis Goose, but before they could do that they had to pull her away from Gabe. He was sitting on the porch, rocking her back and forth in his arms.