Copper Kettle

by Frederick Ramsay

  He wandered over to The Oaks and sat on the steps of the Spring House. His property, if he lived through the day. His and Serena’s. Property ownership had never featured highly in his thinking before now. Land passed from father to son, sometimes to daughters. If there were more than one son and both wanted to stay on it, it would be halved or quartered. After a while, the plots weren’t large enough to sustain a family and the people would move on. A hundred years ago, there was land aplenty and for the taking out west in places like Illinois and out on the plains. Even as late as 1889 you could have joined the land rush out in Oklahoma. But things were different now. Land, if you wanted it, had a price and that price kept going up. People said, “God ain’t making no more land.” It was all mostly taken. And here he was sitting on a little under twelve acres of land in a place where folks had crowded themselves into tiny little played-out farms. This would be considered luxury by mountain standards and he owned it.

  He heard a footstep.

  “I thought I might find you here,” Serena said, and plopped down beside him.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” he said. He thought a minute and added, “But, I’m glad you did.”

  She smiled. It was one of those secret smiles that women make when there is something on their mind that they are cherishing, but aren’t talking about. They pop up a lot early in courtship. You don’t see them as often later and that’s a pity.

  “What?”

  “I was remembering, that’s all.”

  “Listen, about last night—”

  “Don’t you dare, Jesse.”

  “Don’t I dare to what?”

  “Last night was the most wonderfulest night of my life. Don’t you go ruining it with thinking you need to apologize for spoiling me. You didn’t. We came together, the both of us, and I don’t believe I will ever feel that way again. I don’t want that memory ruined by morning male guilty talk.”

  “Oh.”

  “How many women get to find what we did under the stars?”

  “Not many, I reckon.”

  They sat silent for a while. Jesse tried to put himself in Serena’s mind and discover what it was she was feeling. He felt pretty darn good, but he guessed that Serena was at a different place, thinking about what they did up on the mountain.

  “This is a nice patch, don’t you think?”

  “I know you think so, Jesse.”

  “You don’t?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “But…?”

  “It’s here on the mountain, Jesse. I don’t want to die on the mountain. I don’t care how nice this place is, it’s still smack dab in the middle of Buffalo Mountain.”

  “Building a little house here don’t appeal, I understand. But the foundation of the old place is in really good order. It wouldn’t be any trouble putting up a house on part of it. We could…wait, hear me out…We could settle here for a spell. Just long enough to get some money and then move on. Shoot, we don’t even know where we want to land. So, we set up camp, you could say, and then we’d have a place to launch from.”

  “I know that sounds sensible and all. I just worry, Jesse. See, people are a little like trees. If you make yourself comfortable in a place too long, you put down roots. Every year that goes by, the roots grow deeper into the ground. Then one day, you wake up and discover you’re stuck. The roots is so deep, you can’t move. You can never move. Like I said, I do not want to spend all my days on this mountain.”

  “Not even with me?”

  “Don’t do that, Jesse. Don’t make it an either/or. That isn’t fair.”

  “No, it’s not.” He stripped the bark of a twig and stuck it in his mouth to chew. “I promise you this one thing, Serena. I will never tie you down. I will never ignore what your heart says it needs.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and cupped her breast. She didn’t mind that at all.

  “Time is running out, Jess. You got to go.”

  “I do.”

  Neither moved.

  “Jess, I’m scared.”

  “Don’t be. I am a survivor. I been in worse places with worser odds and done alright. You won’t be a widow before you are a bride, I promise.”

  “Jess, I love you, you know that, but sometimes I think you have butterflies instead of a brain. You can’t know what the future is going to bring.”

  “No, you got that right. It’s just, I can’t believe that God would get us this far and then pull the roof down over our heads. It just don’t make sense.”

  “You have a lot more trust in the Almighty than me, then.”

  “That’s okay. I am happy to believe for the both of us.” He stood and picked up his sack. It clanked when he slung it over his shoulder. “I don’t want you to come up there, Serena.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “Who knows how this is going to end. People are itching to start a brawl. If that happens, most likely the folks not in on it are the ones to get hurt.”

  “That’s not the reason and you know it. In spite of what you say, you’re afraid it might turn out bad for you and you don’t want me to be there to see it.”

  “Serena—”

  “What did you say last night? You said we are married except for saying the words in front of a preacher. Well, I believe that. So no, we haven’t said the words yet, but we took them into our hearts, didn’t we? And if I remember them right from Edward and Sally’s wedding, they say you and me have ‘become one flesh.’ Well, that’s a certain fact. They also say, ‘for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, ’til death us do part.’ Well, if you believe all that, then I have to be with you even if we get the worse and the death part ’fore we get the good things. I’m coming, Jesse, and that’s that.”

  Chapter Forty-three

  Jesse and Serena started up the slope toward the summit. They were alone. Everyone else either made a decision to stay home and lay low or climbed to the top using one of the two major pathways. One snaked up the east side and wasn’t quite as easy a climb as the more direct one on the west face. She held Jesse’s hand and even though it made climbing over fallen trees and rocks more difficult, he didn’t let go. He should have been calculating his strategy for the fight ahead, but that no longer held his attention. What would be, would be, and there’s an end to that. Instead, his thoughts were on the two of them and what they’d done, what they’d promised each other, what could be. Serena seemed to be having a great deal of difficulty keeping a serious expression on her face. What a way to start a life together.

  “You know most everybody, all the men, at least, are going to be up there on that meadow. The very same one we married up on, in a way.”

  “I know that, Jesse. Seems kind of crazy appropriate, in a way.”

  “I don’t see how.”

  She giggled. “Well, we already spilled a little blood up there. Maybe the meadow fairies will figure that’s enough and we’ll all shake hands and go home and have a nice supper.”

  “You…I didn’t…”

  “It’s the way we’re put together, Jesse. Most natural thing in the world. I got to admit, I am a tiny bit sore down there, though. It’s a good sore.”

  “I would say I’m sorry, but I ain’t.”

  “Me neither.”

  They paused a moment to check on their progress.

  “I met this Scotsman over in France. Did you know they went fighting wearing little dresses?”

  “They what? They wear dresses? In the fighting? You are joking me.”

  “Little ones, short. They have a funny name for them, but I can’t recall what it is. Gospel truth. The soldiers called themselves the Black Watch. Don’t that sound wicked? And they have this thing they blow in to make music. It has pipes sticking out the one side and a little whistle thing in front. Makes a helluva racket. They sta
nd up and play on that thing and march straight at the enemy guns. Damnedest thing I ever heard. The Germans we took prisoner I told you about, they said they were more afraid of them Black Watch Scotchmen that anything they had to deal with.”

  “Well, that is plain strange.”

  “War is strange. Anyways, I was talking to him and he said when he was to home they all would meet one time a year at a thing they called the Gathering of the Clans. All the different families would get together from all over and play games, dance, and eat.”

  “And?”

  “And I think when we get to the top, that is pretty much what we are going to see today, the Gathering of the Clans, only we ain’t going to play games, dance, or eat.”

  “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were?”

  “It would, though watching Big Tom or Garland Lebrun dance might not be much of a treat.”

  ***

  People were still arriving when they reached the summit. No one said anything to them, although, a few gave them a look or two. Serena just smiled.

  “Now then, Jesse Sutherlin, where should I put myself? Am I a Lebrun and should I stand over on the east or am I now one of you all and should stand on the west?”

  “I reckon, right here up top and sort of in the middle.”

  She waved to her brother. “Jake, come on over here with me.”

  Jake hesitated, looked around and shuffled over.

  “How do, Jake,” Jesse said. “I need to give you a warning. You did one for me, so here’s the come-back. It could get a little uneasy here in a minute or two. If I manage to get off killing John Henry, we have a go at finding us a murderer. That could be trouble for you ’cause you might get a mention.”

  “Why would my name be brought up?”

  “Serena told me about your midnight occupation, for one.”

  “She didn’t.”

  “I did. Jake, you could get yourself killed.”

  “Yeah, well…”

  “Them boys who were helping you—”

  “What boys? I don’t know what you are talking about, Jesse.”

  “As I was about to say, Anse and them will give you up in a heartbeat to save their own necks. If I remember correctly, they already done it once.”

  “What are you saying, Jess?” Serena said. Her smile had disappeared.

  “I’ll let Jake tell you. Just that with Little Tom in his grave, what he and some others worked out about the McAdoo stills and where they were, could come back to bite him. Jake, if you need a head start off the mountain, now would be a good time to take it. I have a meeting to go to. Serena, be ready to scatter, just in case trouble heads this way.”

  “Why would—?”

  “Just keep alert and don’t think you have to be brave or something.”

  Jesse turned and made his way down the slope toward the flat area he’d picked for his meeting with John Henry. He shook his head in frustration. Two steps forward one step back or was it one step forward and two back? Serena would be okay with what he had to do, wouldn’t she?

  The hillsides were filling up with men, mostly, although a few women, his mother included, stood uncomfortably in the background. Abel tried to hide behind Uncle Bob Knox, but Jesse saw him. The meadow buzzed like a hive of bees in a full blooming flower garden. Some folks muttered threats, others encouragement to one or the other of the combatants. He tried to ignore them all. He veered off to talk to Big Tom.

  “You able to talk to Garland?”

  “I did. He said he’d try to keep his folk calm. Me too, but it ain’t easy.”

  “If they just keep them shooting irons pointed down or stuck in their belts, it’ll have to do. Where’s Anse?”

  “I got him in tow.””

  “Good. Don’t let that hothead shoot off his mouth and blow this up into a all out war.”

  John Henry had his knife out and was showing off to the delight of the Lebrun men. He’d a trick he did with his knife. He’d flip it up in the air and it would spin and drop back into the palm of his hand, handle first. The sun glittered off the blade as he flipped higher, two, three, four rotations and, plop, it would land in his hand. It looked dangerous. If the knife were half as sharp as Jesse’s, it was. He grinned at Jesse.

  “You ready, Jesse Sutherlin? Are you ready to get your guts spilled?”

  “Big talk there, John Henry. Give me a minute.”

  Jesse walked a step or two to his right to stand next to a stunted tree, no taller or bigger around than a sapling, an old and gnarled survivor of the altitude and wind that gusted constantly across this part of the mountain. Jesse dropped his sack and removed his knife. He slipped it from its sheath. John Henry increased the height of his tosses. Jesse pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket, unfolded it and held it in his left hand. It fluttered in the wind and each time it hit the knife blade, a strip sheared off.

  “Judas Priest,” he heard a voice behind him say. “That sumbitch is sharp.”

  John Henry’s expression shifted from taunting to serious. He missed the timing on his knife flipping routine and had to jerk his hand back at the last second or he might have lost a finger or two. Jesse reached into his sack again and pulled out his entrenching tool.

  “Well, what the hell is that? I guess you came prepared, Jesse,” John Henry said. “Are you planning on digging your grave before I carve you up or have you given that job to Big Tom to do after?”

  Jesse clipped the lower limbs from the tree next to him and pointed at the trunk with the digging end of the tool.

  “John Henry, would you say your wrist on the arm holding your knife is about this thick?”

  “What, my wrist? Maybe, sure, a little thicker I think.”

  “Here, then?” Jesse nicked the bark to mark the spot.

  “Okay, so what?”

  Jesse swung the small shovel up across his body. He gripped the handle at its end in his right hand. The spade end he held in his palm just short of the metal. He stared at John Henry for what seemed like a minute. Then he twisted his body to his right, slid his left hand down so that he grasped the handle at its end with both hands. He looped his arms over his head, the shovel pointed skyward and Jesse twisted his whole body around. The shovel sailed in an arc, down and around. It sliced through the tree trunk, where he’d marked it, like a hot knife through butter. The tree lifted up and over and its cut end landed at John Henry’s feet.

  “Now then, John Henry, you got a decision to make. See, there is a murderer standing on this hill. He’s killed two of my cousins and one of yours. If we don’t work this out together, he’ll kill some more. He’s pretty much got to. So, do we talk about that, or do I use this entrenching tool to lop off your arm or maybe separate your head from your shoulders?

  Chapter Forty-four

  No one said a word. John Henry tried to swallow and failed. Jesse lowered his entrenching tool and let the spade end rest on the grass. The handle he held loosely in his hand. No one doubted he could bring it up swinging in an instant. The crowd closed in to form a tighter circle around them.

  John Henry finally managed to clear his throat. “You can’t do nothing to me, Jesse Sutherlin. You just try.”

  “Shut up, John Henry,” said Garland Lebrun. “If he wanted to, he could have chopped you to pieces. He didn’t. He showed you he could and gave you a choice. He didn’t have to do that. Now, I ain’t about to lose another young’un over this.” He turned to Jesse. “Tell us what you want, but first, tell me where’d you learn to use that shovel like that?”

  “Mister Lebrun, war is a messy business and you never know what you need to do ’til you’re smack dab in the middle of it. In training, they taught us to use our bayonets when we come to hand-to-hand fighting. But the fact is, it’s way too crowded in a trench to do anything that’s stuck on the end of a rifle. When they jumped into one of ours or we jum
ped into theirs, we’d squeeze off a round. Drop the damn rifle and grab anything handy that you could swing in a tight place. Knives mostly. The Germans were the ones who first put an edge on an entrenching tool. Hell, we all had them slung on our backs anyway, so we done the same. You can see the damage they can do.”

  “I can. What do you want from us?”

  “Here’s what I got.” Jesse raised his voice so that everyone could hear him. “Anybody knows more, jump on in. My cousin Solomon was shot in the back last week. Naturally all us McAdoos assumed it were one of you Lebruns that did it.”

  “Not all of us, Garland. Jesse didn’t.” Big Tom stood across from Garland Lebrun. He didn’t look happy, but then, nobody did except maybe Serena and she’d the good sense to stay out of sight.

  “You didn’t?”

  “It wasn’t that I didn’t. It was I didn’t want to act unless we had some proof it was. That’s all. Okay, I walked the scene where Solomon was shot. I think someone saw what happened that day, but they’re too scared to say anything. I think if I can find that person, or them people—I believe there was two of them, I might know the who of it.”

  “And you think we can help you do that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How?”

  “If you and Big Tom will, ask all the small boys standing around here to shuck off their shoes and walk across this muddy stream bank.”

  “Why the hell for?”

  “Trust me, just do it, please. Abel, I know you’re around here somewhere. Come on over here and help me out. If we have two lines, it’ll go faster. You know what we’re looking for?’

  Abel separated himself from the crowd. He looked much better. The excitement seemed to be the right medicine for him. “A crookedy toe?”

  “Right. Okay start them coming.”