“Probably so.” Raphe kissed Ellie before he went outside to help Emmett gather the chairs that had been left outside during the picnic. Virgil followed him and helped put the chairs in a circle as they brought them in.
Virgil joined the men gathering chairs, and the older Taylor girls went to the food tables to help their younger siblings as Ellie sat down with Davinia. “How’d y’all do last night?” she asked.
“Pretty fair, I reckon,” Davinia said. “The young’uns think they on some kinda ’venture. The older ones, though—they know we ain’t got no place to live.”
“You and Virgil plan on placing the kids with your friends and family till you can rebuild, or do you want to try and keep everybody together?”
Davinia shook her head. “I want to keep my kids with me, but how we gon’ do that with so many of us?”
Ellie sighed and put her hand on Davinia’s shoulder. “We’ll help any way we can.”
Davinia fidgeted with a pulled thread on her skirt. She kept her eyes on it as she spoke. “Most o’ my kids is stair steps. Had ’em one right after the other—had two sets o’ twins, even. Oldest turns twenty this year. They all close together—all ’cept Footsie. They’s four years ’tween him and the one that come ahead of him. All my other chillun, they can look after theyselves and look after one ’nother. But Footsie, he needs a lot more. And right now . . .”
“Why don’t you let him stay with us?” Ellie asked. “Doesn’t have to be for long—just a few days till you get settled someplace besides this dance hall.”
Davinia looked at her and frowned. “White folks don’t shelter colored chillun.”
“Well, no, not usually, but—”
“What ’bout Raphe?”
“Those boys do everything together but sleep as it is. I don’t think Raphe will see any difference between letting them play together on the creek and letting them sleep together in Remy’s loft.”
Davinia thought it over and nodded. “We can try it, I reckon. If he was to go to cryin’ for me—”
“We’ll get him back to you right away.”
As the families of Bernadette gathered inside the dance hall, Ellie joined Raphe and told him about Footsie. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked him.
“They do everything together but sleep as it is.”
Ellie had to laugh despite the trauma they were enduring. “I knew you’d say that. I knew you’d say exactly that.”
They were about to take their seats when Heywood came into the dance hall with Gabby. Ellie nudged Raphe and nodded in their direction. He smiled and said, “Claudette better watch out.”
Leo stepped onto the small stage and held his hand up to quiet the crowd. “Bonjour! We was s’posed to talk about the white alligator, but last night done give us somethin’ worse. Ever’body that lost y’ home, tell us how you doin’.”
Doc stood up. “Tante Dodo and Mr. Hudie were too shaken up to come this morning, so I’ll do my best to speak for them. They’ll be staying in our bayou cabin for now—or from now on, if they want to. It’s right there close to their place, so hopefully they’ll feel at home. And it has some conveniences that’ll make things easier on them. We’ll consider them situated for now. If they decide they don’t want to stay, why, I expect we’ll all pitch in and build them something on their old cabin site.” Doc took his seat.
Leo pointed to the town beautician and her husband. “Skeeter, how ’bout you and Leta?”
Skeeter put his arm around his wife. “We gon’ live up ’bove her beauty shop till the boys can get down here from Lafayette and help us rebuild the cabin. We gon’ be alright.”
Leo grinned and nodded. “That’s good to hear, mon ami. My Lanelle done told me if Leta leaves town, she’s leavin’ too, ’cause can’t nobody else fix her hair. I’m mighty glad I ain’t got to find me a new woman.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
“That just leaves the Taylors,” Leo said. “Virgil, you and Davinia got any idea what you might like to do till you can rebuild?”
Virgil shook his head.
“Anybody got a idea?” Leo looked around the dance hall, where a wave of murmuring could be heard as the community tried to find a way to quickly house a family of twelve.
“Raphe,” Ellie whispered as it dawned on her, “what about the upstairs of the school?” She watched him mentally work through her idea and nod approval.
“You should tell them,” he said.
Ellie raised her hand and stood up.
Leo gave her the floor. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Well, it just occurred to me that we’ve got the whole upstairs of the schoolhouse sitting vacant—two really big rooms, and both of them have woodstoves for heat. We’d just need to outfit one o’ those so Davinia can cook on it. If everybody pitches in a little bit, we should be able to set up a kitchen and beds for everybody. Wouldn’t that work?”
“Kind o’ you to think so, but no,” Virgil said. “Ain’t no way that school board gon’ let colored people live in a white schoolhouse.”
“Sorry to say it, but he’s right,” Leo said.
Ellie thought for a minute. “Well, the board doesn’t own the schoolhouse—the town does, right?”
“That’s true,” Leo said.
Virgil shook his head. “I still think they’ll say we in their school.”
“What if the top floor weren’t part of the school?” Ellie countered. “Everybody here trusts Doc. What if we vote to sell him the top floor for a penny? Then it becomes his property and he can do whatever he wants to with it. I think we all know we can trust him to sell it back to us for the same price when we need it again.”
“Seems like it oughta work, far as I see,” Leo said.
Everybody else agreed.
“Virgil,” Leo said, “what you think?”
“Reckon we can give it a try.”
“Good, that’s settled,” Leo said.
Heywood stood up. “Leo, can I say something?”
“Go ahead, Heywood.”
“I think I’ve ’bout had enough o’ oil rigs. I’d like to stick around here for a while and make myself useful. Y’all haven’t got a sawyer to run your mill, and I know how to do that. It’s what my family does back in Illinois. I figure the folks needing to rebuild could get going a lot quicker and cheaper if they could pay or trade to have their timber milled right here instead o’ going all the way to the mill in Morgan City.”
“Anybody oppose?” Leo looked around the room. “Alright then. Heywood, we thank you. And now, well, I reckon we got us some sorry business to talk about. Anybody besides Heywood see anything suspicious last night? Maybe somebody you didn’t know hangin’ ’round or stoppin’ by your place to ask directions?”
Nobody had seen anything.
“Heywood, what about the man you saw with those alligator signs? You said his name was Luetrell?”
“That’s right.” Heywood came to the stage with Leo. “This man—Gig Luetrell—he’s dangerous. They said he’d just got outta prison when he came to work on the rig I was assigned to. I don’t know if that’s true, but I do know he picked fights for his own amusement and put I don’t know how many men in the hospital. Anybody that got crossed up with him tended to end up in the emergency room—a few of ’em disappeared. Some o’ the fellas said the oil comp’ny kept him around—and paid him more’n anybody else—because he could sniff out crude oil like a bloodhound. After a coupla weeks, I decided lookin’ over my shoulder all the time wasn’t worth the aggravation and quit. Found myself a different job in Lafayette till I heard he moved on.”
“What you reckon he’s got to do with that senator’s alligator hunt?” Emmett asked.
“Don’t know,” Heywood said. “But I can tell you this: If Luetrell’s connected to that hunt in any way, you don’t wanna be. I know there’s folks around here could sure use that money, especially now. Money like that would change your life—buy all kinda advantages for your kids. But y
ou won’t ever see a dime of it, not if Luetrell’s got his hands on it. And you might get yourself killed—sorry, ladies, but that’s the honest truth. I’ve fooled with some tough customers in my time, but that one—he’s different. And I’d bet you anything he set those fires.”
“What about Brother Lester?” Emmett asked.
“You really think a preacher would set fire to people’s houses, Emmett?” Doc asked.
“I don’t know. But he despises the Catholic church. And of all the things he coulda stole from my store, he didn’t hurt nothin’ but Freeman’s white alligators, which he thinks is some kinda idol we down here worshipin’. Just seems odd that somebody’d break in and bypass rifles and shotguns for a bunch o’ wooden alligators. That don’t make no sense.”
“No, it don’t,” Heywood said. “I agree with you there. And you got me thinkin’ about something else. Why would somebody like Luetrell be connected to a big-time senator’s alligator hunt? Only thing they got in common is oil.”
“What you gettin’ at, Heywood?” Leo asked him.
“I’m not sure. But you folks that got burned out—Doc, maybe you can do this for Tante Dodo—next time you go back to your place, spend a little time in the water around it. Shut off your boat motor, and pole or paddle so you don’t disturb the surface o’ the water too much. Look for small pools of little, tiny bubbles. I’m not talking about the kind of random bubbles fish make. These would be tiny and steady and clustered in one spot, like there’s a fountain underwater spewin’ ’em to the top. Those can mark underwater oil deposits. I might be completely off the beam, but it couldn’t hurt to check. If everybody that got burned out has bubbles, that could tell us why an oil man might want you gone. ’Course, that don’t explain the church or Emmett’s alligators. In any case, I think I’ve run my mouth enough, so I’m gonna shut up and sit down.” Heywood abruptly left the stage and took his seat next to Gabby.
“I don’t reckon we need to keep the ladies and the young’uns here any longer,” Leo said. “The men can head down to Emmett’s and make a decision about the alligator. Ellie, you and some o’ the ladies mind walking over to the schoolhouse with Davinia—take stock o’ what’s needed and give the men a list?”
“Nothing we like better than giving men a list,” Ellie said, which made everybody laugh.
The front door opened, and they turned to see Father Timothy come into the dance hall.
Leo invited him onto the stage. “Father Tim, come and join us. Would you like to say a few words?”
“That’s a dangerous invitation to offer a priest,” Father Tim said, trying to smile.
Leo shook his hand as he stepped onto the stage. Father Tim was young, fresh out of seminary when he came to Bernadette five years ago. He looked completely drained—of energy, of hope, of everything.
“As the shepherd of St. Bernadette’s, it is my duty to offer this flock consolation and comfort in time of trouble,” the priest said. “But I find myself lacking. I have faith in the healing power of God. But the truth is, I’m just too wounded this morning to seek it out. I imagine some of you might be feeling the same way. I know the physical structure of St. Bernadette’s is just a building. The true church is sitting right here. But I would be lying to you if I said I didn’t mourn the loss of our house of worship—the place where I’ve had the honor of christening your babies and officiating your weddings and grieving with you over your dead. Today I don’t even have the host and the wine to offer you Holy Communion. Could we—could we at least pray together, do you think?”
Father Timothy and Leo stepped off the stage and joined hands as the families of Bernadette formed a circle. Together they prayed, “Our Father, who art in heaven . . .”
FORTY-TWO
ON SUNDAY AFTERNOON, Raphe was napping in a hammock that Heywood brought him from Morgan City. They had strung it on one end of the porch, opposite the swing. Ellie was getting ready to go to Tante Dodo’s. She thought the ladies might want a break from their lessons, but no—they said they needed to be together today.
Ellie was packing her book bag when she heard suspicious noises overhead. She quietly climbed the stairs to Remy’s loft, opened the door, and saw two little heads pop up between the twin beds. The boys looked so guilty that Ellie couldn’t help but laugh. “If y’all aren’t up to something, I’ll pay for lying.”
Remy and Footsie looked at each other, then back at Ellie, then back at each other before Remy shrugged and said, “C’mon, Footsie, she’ll find out anyway. She always does.” They stood up, Footsie cradling a brown baby rabbit.
“Ohhhh!” Ellie cried. “He’s just a baby!” She hurried to the bedside where the boys were hiding. “Can I hold him?”
Footsie nodded and handed her the rabbit, which was trembling. Ellie cupped her hands around it and gently stroked its fur.
“He looks real scared, don’t he, Miss Ellie?” Footsie said.
“Sure does,” Ellie answered. “Where’d you boys find him?”
“Right by the porch,” Remy said. “All by hisself—I mean himself—like he was lost or something. Can we keep him?”
“You boys know how I feel about penning up wild animals.” Ellie kept petting the rabbit. “They belong outside where they can roam free.”
“But he’s so little!” Footsie objected. “He ain’t nothin’ but a baby, an’ them alligators and snakes out there—they gon’ eat him up fo’ sure! Way I figure it, him bein’ without his mama and me bein’ without mine, maybe we s’posed to look out for one ’nother.”
Ellie looked down at the rabbit, which was growing calmer in her hands, and sighed. “I know when I’m licked.”
The boys started jumping up and down.
“Sh-sh-sh,” Ellie said, putting her finger over her lips. “Like you said, he’s just a baby and he’s really scared, so you need to keep it nice and calm up here for him.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Remy said.
“Yes’m,” Footsie agreed.
“I have to get on over to Tante Dodo’s, so for now, you boys are in charge,” Ellie said, handing the rabbit back to Footsie. “Remy, you go down to the kitchen and get some of the carrots I cooked for lunch. Mash them up and see if the bunny will eat some. He’ll need some water too, in a saucer or something that’s low enough for him to reach. Footsie, you get a quilt out of that wardrobe over there and make him a bed—maybe in the corner. Pull the sides up around him so he has a bed to snuggle into. And if he does his business on my floor, you boys had best clean it up.”
“Thanks, M’Ellie!” Remy said as he took off downstairs.
“Footsie?” Ellie said.
“Yes’m?” He cradled the rabbit against him, stroking it gently as Ellie had done.
“I know this is hard. I know you miss your mama and your daddy and all your brothers and sisters. Must seem mighty quiet around here to you. But it’s just for a few days. I want you to know you can come to me or Mr. Raphe if you get scared or lonesome or just need to talk to somebody. And if you get to missing your family too bad, just let us know and we’ll take you back to them. Okay?”
He nodded and hurried to the wardrobe, no doubt hiding from her sight in case the tears should come and betray the sadness of a frightened little boy trying hard to find his courage.
FORTY-THREE
“Y’ALL NOT GON’ B’LIEVE WHAT’S HAPPENED!” Gabby hurried to the bench where Bonita and Ellie were sitting to watch the children during recess.
“Couldn’t much happen at the post office, unless Miss Ernie got some new dirt on somebody,” Bonita said.
Gabby shook her head. “Not there—Chalmette’s. Just as I was droppin’ my letter in the box, I looked up the street, and I swear every man in this town was filin’ into that store.”
“Even Heywood?” Ellie said with a grin.
“Heywood and Raphe and Doc, le conseil and Lawyer and Virgil—even sweet ol’ Mr. Hudie,” Gabby said. “Wasn’t no way I was gonna let that slide without findin’ out what
they doin’. You can’t turn that many men loose for too long. So I went down there and found out the sheriff’s done arrested ol’ Brother Lester for settin’ the fires!”
“You got to be kiddin’,” Bonita said as she got up to help a first grader who had fallen down playing Duck, Duck, Goose.
“The men said they never seen nothin’ so quick,” Gabby went on. “Fires set on Saturday and here it is just Friday mornin’. But there’s more. The superintendent’s gone missin’.”
“You mean Boone Strahan?” Ellie was astounded.
“Oui,” Gabby said. “Nobody’s seen him since last Saturday. Emmett said that’s how come Brother Lester’s in the jailhouse. The senator says nobody but Brother Lester woulda burned the Catholic church and Freeman’s alligators on accounta he’s the one that hated ’em both. Boone’s papa also says whoever set the fires knows what happened to his boy. I wouldn’t wanna be in that preacher’s shoes right now, that’s fo’ sure.”
Ellie felt nauseated. She didn’t know Boone well, but she believed he had a good heart. And she knew his father had put him in an impossible position. She was happy to have an afternoon with her students to take her mind off what might’ve happened to him.
Bonita rang the school bell while Ellie and Gabby herded the children inside for the afternoon. Ever since the fires, Ellie had made sure to give them ways to talk about that night and bring their fears out in the open. This afternoon Bonita, who had decided she wanted to teach school like Ellie, would help the older kids write about the fires, while Ellie and Gabby let the little ones draw pictures. Then they would dismiss school early to give the children extra time with their families till everything got back to normal.
The Taylors had settled into the second floor of the school. Some of the men in town built them a separate entrance to ensure that the school board had no claim on their comings and goings. While they were at it, Ellie had the volunteer carpenters run a large pipe between the two floors in one corner of each of her classrooms, with a flue she could open and a cap Davinia could close to shut out the noise from below. When the flue and the cap were open, sound would easily carry from the schoolrooms to any of the Taylor children who wanted to listen from above. During recess, Ellie told Davinia, they could come outside and ask her any questions they had. She’d be happy to grade their lessons just like all the other students’.
Under the Bayou Moon Page 21
