Blockade Runner (14 page)

Sarah grew pale. She probably wished that the subject had not come up, for she had struggled with
this problem ever since Jeff’s brother joined the Confederate army.

“I don’t think it would work for me. Belle’s different.”

“I don’t see how she’s any different,” Ezra said, puzzled. “Seems to me, when people love each other—why, that’s a whole lot more important than politics.”

“You just don’t know what you’re talking about, Ezra,” Jeff said sharply.

Ezra flinched at Jeff’s sudden attack. “Well, I probably don’t,” he said and looked down and began eating slowly.

“Oh, let’s have a good time,” Leah said quickly. “We don’t have to talk about the war, do we?”

“That’s a good idea, Leah. Let’s talk about going to church tomorrow. My, won’t Brother Jenkins be surprised to see you! And all the neighbors will be stopping by!”

“Oh, I’ve missed my church,” Leah said.

“Didn’t you have a good church there in Richmond?”

“Oh, yes,” Leah said, “but not like here.” She had grown up in the little white frame church building, had become a believer there, and almost every day thought about that part of her life.

“Well, it’s mostly women there now, with the men gone off to war,” her mother said.

They talked about the church, and Jeff ate silently, feeling somewhat out of place.

Later that afternoon, Jeff was just walking around the farm aimlessly when Leah caught up with him.

“Let’s go down to the creek, Jeff. We can catch some fish for supper.”

Jeff looked at her. He wanted to go, but there was a stubbornness in him. Somehow he still resented Ezra Payne, although he would have died rather than say so.

“Why don’t you and Ezra go?” he said.

“Ezra? Why, Ezra can fish anytime. Besides, I want to go with you.”

Jeff brightened. “All right,” he said, and they ran to the barn to get the poles. Then they dug a canful of worms and soon were sitting on the riverbank. The fish were biting, and before long they had a string of nice punkin-seed perch.

“Maybe later we can go down to the bridge and see if Old Napoleon’s still there.”

Old Napoleon was the tremendous bass that Jeff had spent a great deal of time trying to catch. He had actually landed him once.

“You remember when you caught Old Napoleon the last time we went there?”

“Sure, I remember.”

Leah turned to him. “You turned him loose, Jeff. Why’d you do that?”

Jeff found it hard to put into words what he was thinking. “Well, someday I’d like to come back here, and I’d like for things to be like they were. I guess I thought if I could just leave Napoleon there, that’d make it like old times.”

“That’s nice, Jeff,” Leah whispered. She was sitting very close, and she leaned over and touched his shoulder. “We can do all the things we used to do: go fishing, hunt birds’ eggs, go coon hunting …”

The sun was setting in the west, throwing red gleams over the water in the creek. A school of
minnows flashed down at their feet, silver arrows that darted and stirred up the sand in the creek bottom.

Jeff sat silently for a while, then shook his head. “I don’t know if we can ever go back to being what we were.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, things change, Leah. We were just kids then. We can’t go back to being ten years old again.”

“Why, no … I wouldn’t want that!”

Jeff waited till his cork disappeared with a plop, then quickly jerked a wiggling perch out of the water. He removed the hook carefully and put the fish on the stringer. Only then did he turn to her and say, “I don’t know. Those were good days—no war, nobody gettin’ killed. All we did was have fun, seems like. Can’t go back and do that again.”

“Don’t be sad, Jeff.” Leah put her hand on his. “We can’t be ten years old again, but it’s pretty nice being fifteen.”

He looked down at her hand. It was strong and tan. Then he looked over at her, saying quietly, “Maybe you’re right. I sure hope so.”

The two went back to the house, Jeff carrying the stringer of fish. They said no more about the way things used to be, but Leah knew that Jeff was not happy. Once again she felt that wall between them building and didn’t know why. As they walked along, she wanted to break through it, but his face was set, and she didn’t know what to say.

J
eff sat on the straight-backed pew, listening intently to Brother Jenkins. Church brought back so many memories! Looking over the congregation, he saw familiar faces going all the way back to his childhood. Sitting beside him was Leah, and on her right was Ezra Payne. The rest of the family was on his left.

Leah’s father sat next to Jeff. He was a thin man with brown hair and faded blue eyes. His mouth was firm under a scraggly mustache, and he smiled now at Jeff.

He doesn’t look good
, Jeff thought.
I know Leah’s worried about him—and Mrs. Carter too
.

Mr. Carter held his Bible on his knees, following the reading of the Scripture by Brother Jenkins. His Bible was worn almost to pieces through constant reading.

The minister finished his Scripture reading and looked over the congregation. “We’re happy today,” he said pleasantly, “to have Jeff Majors and Leah Carter back home. Always good to see our folks coming back.” Then he said, “Now, for the message this morning, I’ve chosen the subject ‘Judge not, that ye be not judged.’”

The next hour turned out to be one of the most difficult hours of Jeff Majors’s life. He had known heartache when his family had decided to move to Virginia. That had been hard indeed—leaving all
the things he’d grown up with, the people, the places, the good times. It had been difficult when his father had been captured and sent to a Federal prison, and it had been difficult leaving Esther with another family.

But somehow, as Brother Jenkins preached on “Judge not …” Jeff felt himself turning completely miserable. He was a Christian, had trusted Jesus without doubt, and served God as best he could. But the words of Scripture “Judge not, that ye be not judged” seemed like an arrow in his heart.

Jeff could not help but think how bitterly he had lashed out at Leah. He tried to ignore the bitterness that had been in him—and still was in him, he knew—but before his mind came the memory of how he had flared out in anger over that scene between Leah and Cecil Taylor.

Judge not, that ye be not judged
.

It seemed that Brother Jenkins was looking right down into his heart. Jeff squirmed and could not meet the minister’s eyes. He stared at his hands and saw that they were tightly clenched.
What’s the matter with me?
he thought.

But really, he knew. There had been uneasiness and unhappiness in him ever since he had blown up at Leah. Now, as the words of the Scripture hit him like a hammer, he suddenly realized,
Why, that’s what’s the matter with me! I’ve been judging Leah, and I’m no better than she is. Not as good, I reckon
.

His hands clenched and unclenched, and he feared Leah could feel him twisting on the bench beside her.

The sermon ended after what seemed an interminable time. As Jeff passed out of the church, Brother Jenkins put his hand out and shook Jeff’s.
He was smiling. “So good to have you back, my boy. I’ve missed you—we all have.”

“Thank you, Brother Jenkins. That was a … a good sermon.”

Pastor Jenkins seemed to notice the hesitation in Jeff’s voice. He was a very wise man and had learned how to read small signs. “The Scripture’s very clear on that subject, isn’t it?” He paused, then added, “So many times I’ve caught myself judging people. Then I realized that I’m no man to judge anyone—that God’s our judge. But,” he said, smiling and pressing Jeff’s hand hard, “all we have to do is go to God. He forgives us for that as well as for every other sin.”

“I reckon that’s so, isn’t it?”

“’Course it is!” Jenkins slapped Jeff across the shoulder. “Now, you enjoy your visit here!”

The Carter family went home, and Jeff said almost nothing on the way. Then he played with Esther, sitting on the floor of the parlor, listening as the family talked but taking no part in the conversation.

At dinner that day—which was cold chicken and vegetables—Dan Carter thanked God for the safety of the children. He prayed for Tom and for Jeff’s father and for his own son serving in the Union army. Finally he said, “God, we’re in Your hands. May we never step aside from what You’ve commanded us to do. Most of all, may we love one another with all of our hearts.”

After dinner, Jeff went outside. He walked until he came to an old tree he had climbed many times as a young boy. Looking up at the big branches, he stood thinking of the sermon. And then he said, “God, I’m sorry I’ve been so hateful to Leah. I ask You to forgive me for it. That’s all I know to do.” He
hesitated, then added, “I’ll try to do better, I promise.” He prayed for a while, then put his hat on and walked back to the house, determined that things would be different.

The next morning, Jeff said, “Come along, Leah. We’re going for a ride.”

“For a ride?”

“Sure.” He grinned. “We’re going out to find that woodpecker egg that you never did add to your collection.”

Leah flashed a smile at him. “Let me put on some old overalls,” she said. “I can’t ride like this.”

Jeff went to the barn and led out one of the horses, an older horse named Feathers. He was brown, but there were white markings on his flank that looked like feathers. He didn’t put a saddle on Feathers, and when Leah came out he said, “Bareback today, Leah!”

“That’s fine. Just like old times.”

Jeff put his hands down and said, “Here, step up!”

Leah put her foot in his hands, and he easily lifted her. She swung her leg over, sat down, and then took the reins.

Jeff leaped up behind her with an easy motion, and she said, “I don’t see how you do that!”

“I’ve been doing it a long time. I guess you can do the steering. I’ll just hang on back here.”

Leah turned the horse out of the lot, and they went galloping down the road.

“What’s your hurry?” Jeff called. He put his hands on her waist to steady himself. “You’re gonna shake me off back here!”

Leah shook her hair back. She had not tied it up, and it flew in Jeff’s face. It smelled good, and he
knew she had just washed it with rainwater. “Your hair’s getting in my face,” he protested, although it was not an unpleasant sensation.

Leah merely laughed and kicked her heels against Feathers’s sides. “We’ve got a long way to go.”

It was a fine day. The sun was shining, and they rode over the old familiar places, crossing creeks, going down hidden trails, laughing, and finally—to their surprise—they did find the precious woodpecker egg.

Jeff had climbed up in a dead pine tree that had a few limbs left. Peering inside a small hole, he breathed, “Leah, I think we’ve got it at last!”

“I want to see. Wait for me, Jeff!” Leah tied Feathers firmly, then came to the tree. She made the first limb easily enough but could not climb to the second.

“Here, take my hand,” Jeff said. Leaning over, he held onto a limb with his right hand, took both of hers, and heaved her up. Then both were standing on the same limb, rather precariously.

“Look down in there. That’s it!” he said.

“Oh, Jeff! We’ve looked for that for years!”

“I don’t think I can get my hand in there. Can you?”

Leah reached out carefully. The hole was very small. “I can do it!” she said.

She forced her hand through the hole, groped down, and touched a tiny egg. “I hope I don’t break it getting it out,” she said.

Jeff was holding her so that she wouldn’t fall. He was again very much aware of the scent of her freshly washed hair.

Slowly she pulled her hand out, then opened it. “There it is!” she said. She looked up at him. “Now! Are you happy?”

Jeff ducked his head, “Well, I’m glad about the egg. We hunted for it a long time. I think about those times a lot.”

A soft wind was blowing through the trees, making a whispering noise. It blew Leah’s hair, and she shook her head to make it fall down over her shoulders. “I think about those days too, Jeff.” She held the woodpecker egg carefully in her palm, studying it. “We must have climbed a hundred trees, looking for an egg like this. Now we have it!”

“Better get down before we fall,” he said. But then he hesitated. “Before we get down, I want to tell you something.”

“Yes?”

“Well, I’m sorry that I’ve been such a pest.” It was hard for him to apologize, especially with her large blue-green eyes fixed on him. He swallowed hard. “I was wrong to get mad at you about Cecil. Sorry, Leah.”

Leah’s face lit up. “Oh, Jeff, I want us to be just like we used to be.”

“Well, I was wrong. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, I can.”

“I guess,” he said slowly, “I was just … well … jealous, you might say.”

Leah smiled suddenly. “Jealous?”

“Well, yes. Cecil comes from a fine family, and they’ve got money. He knows how to dress. All I know how to do is beat on an old drum.”

“That’s not so,” Leah said. She was holding the egg in one hand, and he was still steadying her. Reaching up, she touched his hair and pushed a
lock of it back off his forehead in an affectionate gesture. “I don’t want to hear you talk about yourself like that.” She smiled. “Now we’ve got that all out of the way—and we’ve got a woodpecker egg!”

Jeff looked down into her eyes and smiled too. His voice was filled with relief as he said, “Well, I’m glad that’s over. Now we can be friends just the way we used to be.” A mischievous light came into his eyes, and he said, “Leah?”

“Yes, Jeff?”

“Don’t you think at a time like this there should be some sort of … physical gesture? I mean, after all, that’s the way it’s done in all the books.”

“Physical gesture?” Leah asked, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean … like …” Jeff hesitated, then swallowed hard. “I mean, like maybe a kiss?”

Leah flushed and said sharply, “Why, Jeff! I’m surprised at you.”

“Well, I mean, it’s just the way they do in the books.”

“What books have you been reading?” she teased. Reaching up, she pulled his head down and kissed him on the cheek and said, “There!”