“Now, Geraldine, you know I have papers to grade and it is impossible for me to go to London right now. You will be so busy shopping that you won't be lonely at all.” He wished that she would stop being quite so pushy and simply allow the relationship to develop at its own pace. He liked Geraldine Briton, but he knew she wanted more, much more than he was prepared to give at the moment. “Besides, I must prepare for my trip to St. Louis in the Americas. I am leaving next week.”
Back in the kitchen, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson stood close to the door in order to eavesdrop on the conversation that was taking place. Ezekiel was like a son to them and they did not approve of Miss Briton.
“Oh yes, I wanted to talk to you about that. I asked Mummy and I have decided to go with you. Mummy will send the younger children's governess as chaperone so it will be quite respectable.” She lifted her teacup daintily and fluttered her lashes at him over the rim. Back in the kitchen, William Johnson held Bertha Johnson's arm to prevent her from charging into the dining room in protest.
“Go with me? But that is impossible. I am sorry Geraldine but that is quite out of the question.” Ezekiel was shocked at the blatant cheek of this young woman. He had not asked her to come. As a matter of fact, he was looking forward to being away from her for a while. Behind the door Bertha looked at William in shock. How dare this young woman be so brash and bold?
“Don't worry, it will be most proper and we will have such a grand time. I am going to shop for traveling clothes in London. Now, don't pout, you know you want me to go with you. Although why you want to travel to such an uncivilized place is beyond me.” She fussed with the pleats on her bodice and adjusted her sleeve before looking at him for a reply. Ezekiel sipped his tea while his mind raced for an appropriate rebuttal.
“Absolutely not. You are not coming with me Geraldine. I am very sorry, but I will not allow it. I am going alone to see my family.” He paused, searching for a response. She stared at him, holding her lips in a pout. “If you must know, I am going to see a young woman. We are betrothed.” It was the first thing that came to his mind and he had to discourage her somehow. She glared at him, all the color drained from her face.
“A woman, well I never! You cad! You scoundrel! Have you toyed with my affections and all the while you have a woman back in the Americas?” The sound of her open palm striking his face, accompanied by the pain in his cheek, sent shock waves through his body. The other slap deep in his memory came back in an instant, without thinking he reacted, raising his hand to strike her. She recoiled in horror. Immediately, his hand dropped to his side as he stared in shocked silence.
Suddenly she ran screaming from the room. “You will pay for this Ezekiel Whittaker, you will pay! No one treats me like this and gets away with it!” Loudly the door slammed and he stood alone and shaking. What have I done? Why did I react so violently? I'm a gentleman, never in my life have I struck a woman.
Bertha and William rushed into the dining room, shocked at what had just happened. Ezekiel looked up at the two servants, confusion evident on all of their faces. He dropped his head into his hands. Father, even in death you haunt my life.
Chapter Five
Abraham Meets Billy
Abraham slowed his horse to a steady trot, enjoying the Mississippi sunshine on his face. Tall magnolias overhead with shiny leaves dancing in the breeze made an arch for rider and horse; somewhere in the branches a mockingbird struggled with his imitation of the cardinal's trill. Old Willie had agreed to take care of Bo and the cabin while he was gone. Lost in thought, Abraham was looking forward to seeing his family again; it had been too long.
At the river, he stopped to allow the horse to drink. He dismounted and splashed the cool water on his face. A sudden movement caught his eye just down stream. A young boy with a bucket stepped from the river and disappeared into the woods. Curiosity drew Abraham in the boy's direction. Walking the horse carefully through the tall sandy pines and magnolias, he entered a small clearing. A tattered wagon with two sickly horses sat forlornly beside a burnt out fire pit. The boy was bent over an old man, who appeared injured.
“Hrrmph, hrrmph.” Abraham cleared his throat in order to make his presence known, hopefully without startling the youngster. He assessed the boy to be in his mid to late teens. “Can I be of assistance?”
The boy turned quickly with a stunned look on his face. “Go away, we don't need nothin’ from nobody.” Turning back to the old man, he gently dabbed the pale wrinkled brow with an old wet rag. Abraham was having trouble discerning the boy's accent. It seemed that his voice was first low and then higher with a definite Acadian twang.
“I am a doctor, please let me take a look at him.” He took a step towards the pair.
The boy swung around pointing a gun in his face.
“I said we don't need nothin’ from you. Now get back on your horse and ride off before I blow your head off.” Abraham froze.
The old man moaned in pain. “Please I'm a doctor. I mean you no harm. Just let me look at him. Is he your father? What happened to him?” Abraham attempted to calm the boy. He took another step forward.
The youngster's face reflected both hesitation and fear. “Go ahead, take a look, but don't try anything or I will shoot you.” The boy placed an emphasis on “will” and Abraham moved slowly towards the injured man. The boy backed off but held the gun pointed in Abraham's direction.
On closer examination, Abraham realized the man was shot several times and there was not much hope in saving him. “Start that fire, boy, and bring me some more water. We need to do something right away or he will die.” The boy stood firm, still pointing the gun. “I said start the fire, boy, do you want this man to die?”
“It's too late, he bin like dat since early morning. He dyin.” The boy did not move.
Abraham realized that the boy was right, but he was hoping to distract him and perhaps get him to trust him. “Who did this?” The boy stared blankly. “I said, who did this?” Before the boy could answer, the old man drew a long deep breath, air gurgled in his throat and his eyes rolled back into their sockets. Abraham put his ear to the man's chest, but the old heart had stopped beating. Silently, he covered the old man's face with his handkerchief and turned towards the boy. A single tear slid down the youngster's face.
“I'm sorry, he's gone.” Abraham wanted to get control of the situation. “Now I will help you bury him instead. I still want some answers but they can wait. Fetch the shovel and let's get busy.” The boy moved off sadly. He lowered the gun.
The two worked together in silence, digging a shallow grave. Abraham carried the body and placed it gently in the hole. He removed his hat and began to recite some scripture. The boy's hat stayed firmly planted on his head. His pale white face was covered in dirt, tracks from his tears leaving a trail in the dust.
“Where will you go now? Do you have family?” The boy raised tear-filled blue eyes to Abraham.
“My pa was all I had left and those bastards shot him. I'm goin’ to find them and put a bullet right between their eyes.” He bent down and tossed a handful of dirt on the body, then stomped towards the wagon. Abraham followed him.
“Let's bury your pa and then we can talk about this.” The boy stopped and hesitantly walked back to the grave. Picking up the shovel, Abraham began shoveling dirt onto the body lying silently at the bottom. The boy gathered rocks to add to the grave.
Later, Abraham discovered that the boy intended to travel to Louisiana and convinced him to travel at least part of the way with him. Abraham's horse was tied to the back of the wagon and the pair began their journey in silence.
That night, they camped beside a river and Abraham tried to get the boy to talk. He asked about the men who had killed his father but the boy was silent. Abraham went to bathe in the river while the boy stayed at the fire. The boy was obviously in shock, and although he appeared to need a good scrubbing, Abraham left him alone. When he returned, there was a rabbit roasting on the fire and Abraham was
grateful for the boy's obvious skill at finding and preparing food. The two ate without a word.
The next morning, the road turned into two ruts with many large stones protruding from the tracks. The rickety wagon bounced and strained against the rocks until finally a wheel came loose and the two passengers were tossed to the ground. The boy lay very still. Minutes later, he moaned, and Abraham, struggling to stand, moved toward the boy. The youngster stared at him through a fog of confusion, eyes taking a few minutes to focus. “What happened?” Abraham noticed immediately that the voice was lighter and higher pitched than before and the accent seemed to have disappeared.
“The wagon lost a wheel and you fell and hit your head.” The young man tried to get up. He pulled his hat farther down on his head, unconsciously reaching for his gun. Fortunately for Abraham, it was out of reach.
“Don't worry, you are safe with me. Please, can you tell me what happened to your father?” He pushed the boy back down gently. “Lie down. You might have a nasty bump on your head. Let's get that hat off.” The boy pushed him away and struggled to his feet. He pulled the hat lower on his head.
“I'm fine. Leave me alone.” Abraham tried to get him to talk but to no avail. Finally Abraham announced that he was going to try and fix the wagon wheel, admitting that he was not much good at mechanical things. The boy looked at him in disgust. “Just leave it, and I will help you later. I know this old wagon better than anyone.”
Abraham chuckled and left him alone. He stood staring at the broken wheel. Abraham scratched his head. He had no idea where to begin. Although he could repair a broken body, he had no mechanical ability whatsoever. The boy appeared; quickly repaired the wheel and they were traveling once more. Abraham looked over at him with interest. He was a strange lad, but very adept at repairing wagons as well as hunting for food.
The boy stared straight ahead aware of the other's interest. His young mind was reeling. Can I trust this doctor? Will those men find me and possibly kill us both? Can I tell him that the men are after me and why? He watched the doctor through his peripheral vision; the doctor was handsome and older than he was. The clothes were of good quality, but appeared to be several years old; he was a puzzle.
Unable to contain his curiosity, the boy finally spoke. “What is a doctor doing in this back country full of black slaves and poor white Acadians? Why don't you work in the city?”
Abraham was surprised by the questions, but explained that he had been administering to the black slaves for several years now. A look of surprise crossed the young face. White and black folks didn't get along in post war Mississippi. Abraham decided that he could gain his trust by telling him a little about himself and proceeded to explain why he was here and how much he loved his work.
“I left my dog, Bo and my cabin with one of my patients, old Willie. I am traveling north to St. Louis for a reunion with my family. I have two brothers, and a sister just a little younger than you.” Wanting to keep the conversation flowing he asked, “How old are you?”
“Seventeen. There is, or was, just me an’ Pa left. Ma died years ago.” The youngster looked away; a long sigh escaped his young lips. “Ain't no white folk tried to kill you for helping them Negroes?”
“Yes, actually I have had many threats but I won't stop. These people need my help and I intend to give it to them. I would like to know your name. How do you do? My name is Abraham Whittaker, Doctor Abraham Whittaker.” Abraham extended his hand towards the boy wanting to keep the communication open.
The youngster hesitated and then shook the extended hand. “Billy, my name is Billy LeRue.” He was beginning to relax a little and Abraham was encouraged. It was obvious that the boy and his father were gypsies. The youngster seemed so distracted and sullen, he reminded Abraham of someone. Suddenly Abraham realized that it was his brother, Isaac and perhaps unconsciously, this was why it seemed so important to help the young man. Isaac was a very disturbed young man who loved to hunt and stayed away for days alone in the wilderness of Wyoming. The brothers had not been close in those days; Isaac was close to no one for many years. In fact, he was very cruel and unfeeling when it came to his family or the animals that he hunted. Abraham, who loved all living things, could never understand his brother's aloofness and cruelty. Abraham had not thought of those days in a long time and he shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. Now what do I do with Billy?
Chapter Six
The Mississippi River
Abraham and Billy arrived on the outskirts of New Orleans the day of the Governor's inauguration. Passersby informed them that Louis Alfred Wiltz was the newly appointed Governor of Louisiana and the entire town was out to celebrate. “Even the famous actress, Sarah Berhardt is here, having been personally invited by the governor,” one woman gushed, obviously more impressed with the actress than the governor. People chatted about the many changes in New Orleans over the past year. They learned that a new railway had just been completed over Lake Pontchartrain. A group of men discussed the jetties that were built to ensure the silt would not close off the Mississippi, allowing the passage of large ships from the Gulf to points north. People were everywhere even though Billy and Abraham were several miles from downtown. Abraham and Billy rode the old wagon towards town, stopping often as hordes of people milled in the streets. Billy had never seen so many people in one place; his eyes darted from one side of the street to the other.
Abraham realized that it would be better to travel farther north to make his arrangements by boat and then rail to St. Louis. Many of the rail lines were destroyed during the war and now a boat trip would be necessary. He navigated the crowds until they were almost out of town on the north end. Finally, he stopped and turned to face the young boy. “Well, this is where we part company, my friend. I must travel north to catch a train to St. Louis. What are your plans?” Billy looked at him with stubborn determination.
“You know my plans, I intend to find those bastards and kill them. Nice traveling with you Doc, all the best.” He took the reins nonchalantly from Abraham's hands and motioned that he should jump down. Slowly, Abraham climbed from the wagon and began to untie his horse. He knew they would have to part but something inside of him warned him not to let the youngster leave. Before he could speak, the boy jerked on the reins.
“Thanks for everything. I hope you enjoy your reunion.” He waved, turning the wagon back towards town. Abraham mounted his horse and watched Billy go until he was out of sight. Sadly and with some trepidation, he rode north.
Several days later, Abraham purchased his ticket on the riverboat and waited patiently at the dock. His mind kept returning to Billy, praying that he was safe. The boarding whistle sounded as people moved toward the gangplank. Abraham knew that he would have to switch boats several times before he arrived at a point in the river where a train would take him all the way to St. Louis. He joined the crowd, focusing his thoughts on home. Isaac would have loved Billy. I am sure they would have an unlimited number of things in common. Isaac had changed a lot since the days in Wyoming and Abraham wished he could have introduced Billy to his older brother. It was strange how the boy, a complete stranger, haunted his thoughts.
Although it was old, the first steamboat was smooth- running and comfortable. The second was in extreme need of repair. Abraham discussed the sparks that constantly landed on his clothing with another passenger. “Yeh, sparks jump from the smokestacks because of the wood burning boilers. Explosions often happen in the boiler rooms. I worked on these steamboats for years.” The old man smiled at Abraham.
Time passed quickly, taking him to the second part of his journey and a very comfortable paddle wheeler. The boats passed the farms and plantations built on the shore of the great Mississippi. Much of the original shoreline had originally belonged to the Acadians. Small family farms had once lined the shore, but most sold out to plantation owners and moved farther inland. Because the shoreline was the most fertile, the land brought much needed money to the poor Acadian far
mers who were easily convinced to sell. The Acadians were well known for hating to be in debt and selling out gave them enough to pay their debts and build another home farther inland. Swamp and marshland was free, the only cost being the building materials, so life was good for those that sold out.
After a three-day layover, the third leg of the journey found him on a rather shabby converted freight barge. The heavy steam powered barge moved much more slowly than the two previous boats and time seemed to drag. It had been almost two weeks since Abraham had left Billy in New Orleans but he worried about him constantly. The barge stopped in a desolate river town to load and unload crates of goods and allow the passengers to disembark.
Abraham and the other passengers filed off the boat. He had barely reached the end of the gangplank when a commotion caught his attention. A huge black stallion leaped over the fence, people screamed and scattered out of the way. The rider and the horse were either in a hurry or being chased but nothing was going to stop them. Suddenly the horse bolted, throwing the rider to the ground and then ran frantically towards an open field. Abraham carrying his medical bag, ran into the crowd towards the thrown man.
“Step aside please, I am a doctor. Please, let me through.” He made his way to the center of a circle surrounding the rider and stopped short. Sitting on the ground refusing the offers of help and looking very embarrassed, was Billy. Gaining his composure and hardly able to conceal his delight in seeing the youngster again, Abraham addressed the rather embarrassed youth.
“Well, well Billy, fancy meeting you here. Are you hurt, can you walk?” The people stepped back. Abraham saw the shocked look on Billy's dirt smeared face, but he extended his hand as Abraham pulled him to his feet. Pulling his hat low on his head, Billy noticed one of his boots lay beside him on the ground. He bent over and pushed his foot into the dusty boot taking time to recover his composure. Lowering his voice an octave, he assured everyone in a thick Acadian accent that he was fine. Then he apologized for the horse explaining that something had spooked it. Head down, he staggered away with Abraham supporting his arm.
The Whittaker Family Reunion Page 3
