Copper Kettle

by Frederick Ramsay

  “I did.”

  “What’s it say?”

  The sheriff’s face had acquired a deeper shade of red. “Would you two just let go of hats and titles and listen?”

  “Sorry. Was there something else?”

  “Goddamn it. If I get any more guff out of you, you’ll spend the night in jail.”

  “Would that include me, too?”Serena asked and shot Jesse a grin.

  “You? You just skedaddle, Missy, ’fore I take it in my head to give you a spanking, girlie.”

  It was Serena’s turn to pose feet apart, hands on her hips. “That would be a very bad idea, Sheriff. You do something like that up in the mountains and you might never make it home.”

  “What is it with you people? You got no respect for the law. Well. For you information, Missy, we ain’t in them mountains of yours at the moment so, you need to take yourself off on home. You just git, and let me talk with this man right here.” Franklin turned back to Jesse. “Okay, I’m not saying I believe you, but if it wasn’t you that found the body, who did?”

  “I can’t be sure, naturally, but I believe it was Big Tom.”

  “Tom McAdoo? He’s a moonshiner.”

  “Is he? I had no idea.”

  “You damned well do too know he is. Where will I find him?”

  “Who? Big Tom? Up on the mountain I expect.”

  “Up on the…Are you going to tell me how to find him or do I have to introduce you to the rubber hose we keep at the station to persuade you hillbillies to talk?”

  Jesse felt his face redden and for a split second calculated the move he would need to make to put this big oaf on the ground. He took a breath. “Well, sir, if he is a moonshiner like you say, you won’t never find him. If he ain’t, well you drive up that dirt road over there, take the first fork to the right, Drive a mite more past three more forks, keeping to the right on them, and take the next one to the left. That’ll get you there, alright. But, Sheriff, I think, if I was you, I’d drive real slow and tap your horn button when you get close to make sure he knows you’re coming. We’re not used to having the Law up on the mountain, you know. Fact is, you all don’t ever come up, not even for a social. So, tap your horn and keep your hands where he can see them. He’s a mite touchy, you could say.”

  Franklin took a step forward and dropped his hand to the butt of his pistol. Jesse shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and looked for a tell. Did this man lead with his right or was he a bull rusher? Would he pull that .38 caliber police special and use it as a club? R.G. wheeled around the corner.

  “What the hell are you doing, Dalton? This man is my foreman and a war hero, to boot. What were you thinking? We all know what happens at that station of yours. Well, you are not going to put a book on my foreman’s head and pound it with your damned club. You got that?”

  “I got a duty to perform, R.G.”

  “And I got a business to run and if you have any hope of being elected to the job permanent next fall, you will let me get on with it.”

  “What is with you damned hill people?”

  Jesse shrugged. “It’s probably all that intermarriage you talked about. Having three eyes and pointy heads makes us suspicious of normal people.”

  The sheriff spun around and stalked off with a dismissive wave over his shoulder. “We aren’t done here, boy. I’ll be back.”

  “I’ll be right here, Sheriff. Did I mention we got us a pig? We named him Dalton. Fat son of a bitch.”

  R.G. put a hand on Jesse’s arm. “Take it easy, Jesse. You do not want that man against you.”

  “How’d he ever get himself elected in the first place?”

  “Well, he wasn’t elected, exactly. Sheriff Henry Spitz got the flu along with a slew of other folks and didn’t make it. Franklin was pushed in as his deputy and then got himself appointed to fill the spot until Election Day.”

  “What slow cooker decided to appoint that loaf of stale bread sheriff?”

  “Truth is, he joined up fairly recently. He worked at his uncle’s ice house before that, but was let go. It’s a bad day when your own kin don’t keep you on. So then he got himself signed on as a deputy. He’s married to the county superintendant’s cousin, Bessie Sackmiller.”

  “Oh, Lordy, that’s right. I forgot. Old Bouncing Bessie. No wonder he’s hot under the collar.”

  “Who? You know her?”

  “It was a nickname us boys give her. I couldn’t have been more’n sixteen and we would…never mind. So, he married Bouncing Bessie. She must have got mad at him and said something.”

  “So, okay, I guess that intermarriage thing depends on who’s married to whom, and you are grinning way too much, Jesse.”

  “Sorry about that. So, my cousin Anse is bearing false witness. I guess I ain’t surprised. That boy has more meanness in him than a rattlesnake. If all this ain’t enough to justify mountain mouthwash, nothing is.” Jesse grinned and grabbed the packages out of the Ford’s backseat. R.G. grabbed another.

  “Serena is right,” he said. That is one fine-looking hat you got yourself, Jesse.”

  “You run on up to Picketsville next week sometime and you can get yourself one just like it, or better. Only one thing, don’t tell that peddler how much you got in your pocketbook. He’ll find a way to relieve you of every last penny.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Work at the mill did not end until nearly seven o’clock. In October, that created new hazards. Sawing timber in daylight had enough potential risks for the workers. Doing it in failing light only added to them. Jesse said something to R.G. who only shrugged and reminded him that he had an order due the next day and there was only so much daylight available. Toward the end, Jesse pulled his Ford up to the track and trained its headlights on the spinning saw blade. He couldn’t be sure if that helped very much, but the men all seemed to feel safer, even if they weren’t. They’d risk losing a hand before they’d risk losing their jobs. R.G. was not a greedy man or a hard one. He was a product of hard times and these were hard times. His men didn’t complain. It was what it was.

  Jesse’s watch read eight when he made the trip to the Spring House. Serena waited for him as she’d promised, but she did not appear pleased.

  “You planning on spending the night, Jesse?” she said. Then she realized what she’d said could be taken another way. “Um, never mind that. I meant only that—”

  “Exactly what did you mean, Miss Barker? I swear, you mountain women have no shame.”

  “You stop that talk right now, Jesse, or I will be away from here quicker than Halley’s Comet.”

  “You was only nine when it come by. How’d you come to see it, back in the woods where you are?”

  “You think you are so smart. We all climbed up to the top of the mountain and saw it clear as day. My Pa had read up on it and he said we might never see it again unless we lived clean to 1985.”

  “Okay, if you say so. I wasn’t that lucky. Nobody in my family had a notion about comets, stars, or the ones that they say are not stars, but planets like the moon only they ain’t. By the time the word made its way over to us, it were mostly gone. So, getting back to why we’re here, I did that search like I said. I thought you could help me figure out what to do next.”

  “Well, if you had got here before the sun set, maybe I could have helped you, but there’s only a little bitty crescent moon and I can’t see the writing on that paper.”

  “If it were a full moon, you could. Look here I’ll light a Lucifer and you can see enough to get the sense of it.”

  “I hope you have a whole box of strike-anywhere matches because this could take a while. Okay…” Serena squinted at the paper in the flickering light. The match burned down and Jesse lit another. Seven matches and a burned finger from the last one and Serena nodded. “I think I read it all. It’s complicated, that’s for sure.”
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  “What does ‘entailed’ mean?”

  “It’s like the kings and dukes in Europe. Over there, the title and the castle, things like that, pass from oldest son to oldest son. The younger ones don’t get anything when the old man dies.”

  “That don’t seem fair.”

  “No, but Mister Conklin at the school said that was why most of us are here. Second sons and on down the line had nothing to do, no land, no money, nothing, so they joined the Army, took up pirating, or came to America. He said that most of us up in this part of the country could probably trace our family back to some old castle or something.”

  “That doesn’t appeal much to me. I reckon a big castle might be better than a cabin with a dirt floor, but who would you spend your time with?”

  “I don’t expect that is a problem we need to worry about. Anyway, whoever it is that owns the land is a man and doesn’t know he has title. We need to try and trace it somehow.”

  “What happens if there isn’t an oldest son?”

  “Then it goes to oldest male relative and so on.”

  “So, somebody who could be a second or third cousin to this man might own the land?”

  “Yep. And here’s the other thing, the name on this title is Leigh, Fairchild Leigh. That’s pronounced, Lee, but spelled L-E-I-G-H. I guess that’s where the stories about it being one of the Lees must have come from. On the other hand, people are always changing the way they spell their name, so we might have to check out Lees, Leighs, Leahs, and who knows what else.”

  “You’re saying we should give up?”

  “No, I’m saying it won’t be easy. There is a better-than-even chance whoever owns this land is still local. We need to poke around and find someone with that name. It could even be a middle name or a maiden name.”

  “Now’s when I wish Solomon was still alive. That boy could recite who was related to who like he had a map in his head. He knew everybody out to third and fourth cousins.”

  “Next best thing is Granny Fielder. She knows everything.”

  “She’s crazy as a Betsy bug.”

  “She’s your cousin, isn’t she?”

  “That one, I will let go. Listen, not everyone up here is really a cousin, you know. We are connected in lots of ways and not all of them is by blood.”

  “Well, you think on it for a while. I have to git. It’s late and folks will be wondering what I’m up to and if they find out I spend some time up here in the woods in the dark with you, they might just insist on a wedding. I don’t know about you, but I am definitely not ready for that step, Mister Jesse Sutherlin.”

  “What? You’re not ready to get yoked to a man who has traveled Europe, has seen Paris, France, has exchanged serious, you could even say life or death, messages with gentlemen of several other countries, not to mention their lady friends. You would turn your back on all that?”

  “Well when you put it that way, it’s mighty tempting, but yep, turning my back.”

  “Then you’d better skedaddle. I think I hear someone coming.”

  Serena slipped away in the dark. Jesse cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. He wanted whomever was working their way up the hill to be drawn him and not hear Serena. She moved quietly, but mountain ears didn’t miss much.

  “Is that you, Jesse Sutherlin?”

  Jesse did not recognize the voice. He slid off the log he’d been sitting on and stepped behind the trunk of a tree. If there was going to be shooting, he wanted some protection.

  “Who’s asking?”

  “Albert Lebrun. I come to talk.”

  “What about?”

  “Your cousin and who might have shot him. Where’re you at?”

  “I’m sitting on this here log right in front of you.”

  Lebrun moved into the clearing. The crescent moon barely lit the area, but there was just enough light for Jesse to see that he was alone and not armed. He stepped out from behind the tree and sat.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I think it’s more about what do you want to know, ain’t it?”

  “Point taken. Why are you talking to me?”

  “You saved Jake Barker’s life. That means that the word in the community that you are serious about catching the man who shot Solomon McAdoo is right. You aren’t ready to start a shooting war with us. That right?”

  “It is. What can you tell me?”

  “Two things. One, it weren’t any one of us that pulled the trigger. Two, whoever done it, ain’t from over on our side of the mountain. It’s possible that one of them might have seen something. I’m saying, might have. That help?”

  “It ought to, but it don’t. See, the folks over here are pretty hot. Just saying it weren’t someone from you-all’s side would be seen as a lie and enough to send them howling over there like a pack of bluetick coonhounds.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “No, it ain’t.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Ask a favor. Can you keep your ear to the ground? Somebody knows something and will talk sooner or later. You said that someone over on your side might have seen something. Find me that witnesses if that part is true. I know there were two people up at that still that either saw what happened or were party to it. At least one of them will hint at knowing something soon enough. It’s just human nature to allow as how you’re knowing an important secret. If you hear anything, anything at all, you tell Serena Barker and she will tell me.”

  “I can do that.” They say quietly for a minute. “You’re working down at the sawmill, they say.”

  “Yep.”

  “Is there any openings? I know a thing or two about sawmills.”

  “You’d better check with Mister R.G. Anderson. You were in France, too, weren’t you, Albert?”

  “Yeah, I joined up right after you. Spent my time tending to them newfangled tank machines, though. Mostly being a grease monkey, you know? I didn’t get near enough to the front to see any action. Not like you, anyway.”

  “Count your blessings, Albert. It weren’t no picnic. Anyway, Old R.G. fancies ex-soldiers and we just got ourselves some Allis Chalmers tractors. I reckon we might could use somebody who can turn a wrench and knows his way around a gas motor. If there is an opening, you’d get first go at it.”

  “Thanks for the tip. I better go ’fore someone finds me consorting with the enemy. Oh, and for the record, we never met.”

  “Never saw you. Good luck. I’ll be waiting for news.”

  Albert disappeared into the forest. Jesse took three steps to his right and ducked back behind his tree. He scooped up a handful of pebbles and tossed them, one at a time into the woods. He sent each one a bit farther down the path. For anyone waiting in the dark and listening, Jesse was on his way down the hill.

  A minute passed. Jesse breathed as lightly as he could. The air seemed to have become thick and the darkness, which had never bothered him before, now felt menacing. Jesse started to step away when he heard them. Then he saw them, three men separated from the forest and stepped quietly into the clearing next to the Spring House. He heard the soft murmur of voices. He could not make out what they discussed or who they were. Their words were muffled, their voices indistinct. Did he recognize a voice? He could not say. They pivoted and looked first in the direction they must have believed Jesse had taken, then the other way. He waited.

  A decision made, the three men trailed off after Albert, leaving as quietly as they had come. Were they Albert’s backup if things had gone wrong? Had Albert worried that if he met with a McAdoo, he’d be bushwhacked? Or were these three following Albert for some other reason? Jesse decided he wouldn’t risk going after them to find out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jesse worked his way home in the dark. He didn’t notice or hear anything out of the ordinary on the way. Night music,
they called it on Buffalo Mountain. That would be owls hooting, tree frogs peeping, an occasional hound belling for whatever reason only it knew, and crickets. The air had become chilled, announcing winter couldn’t be too far away. Jesse thought he’d start bringing home slabs and wood scraps. It would beat chopping firewood and he hadn’t noticed any stack near the house anyway. He’d need to have a word with Abel about that. He saw the lantern as he turned in off the road.

  Addie Sutherlin rocked on the front porch. A single lantern burned on the chair next to hers. Its wick had been trimmed back and the light it gave off barely illuminated her face. She rocked forward as Jesse’s boot hit the first step.

  “Where you been, Son? Can’t you see it’s dark? Here I am worrying about you and burning perfectly good kerosene for no good reason.”

  “I’ll buy you some more.”

  “It’s a nickel a quart now. You got so much money you can throw it away like that?”

  “I am sorry, Ma. You didn’t have to wait up for me, you know. I am all grown up now.”

  “You say so, but here it is way past the time normal folks are getting their sleep and you are gallivanting all over the mountain. Abel says you’re sparking that Barker girl. You stay away from her, you hear?”

  “Now why should I do that?”

  “She’s from the other side of the mountain. Ain’t no good—”

  “First off, we been over this once already and, number two, I ain’t sparking anybody at the moment.”

  “Then what were you doing?”

  “Checking on a few things is all. I had to meet somebody.”

  “In the dark?”

  “Sometimes that’s when you have to do things, Ma. Dark can cover a lot of bad but it also can help with a heap of good. Stop worrying about me. Listen, before you set off on another one of your journeys with advice, country wisdom, and dire warnings, I need some information that maybe you can give me. Do you know, or have you ever heard of a Fairchild Leigh? I believe that is how you pronounce his name only it is spelled funny like ‘light’ only with no T at the end and an extra E in there, so maybe it’s Lee-ig, Lie-egg. Lee is what Sara said it’s pronounced as, though, and she’s had some serious schooling.”