East of Orleans (8 page)

Jules stood at the window and laughed as he watched Isabella hurry down the dirt street. He shook his head. “That’s about as fiery a little gal as I ever seen. Some poor boy is sure gonna need help holding onto her.”

Isabella ran so hard that she tore the hem of her dress, catching it on the brick sidewalk. As soon as she got to the bank, she saw her mama and granny in the lobby.

Granny stood firm, shaking her finger in Mr. Hartwell’s face. She could hear Mr. Hartwell’s voice and suddenly wished that she had stayed away longer. She stared through the bank’s large window and saw her mama looking distraught. Granny looked deranged.

“Ladies, if there was any other way, I would love to help you, you know that. Don’t you, Lila?” Lila looked around the lobby.

“But you ladies got to realize the board will not allow me to wait any longer. Don’t think I have not worried myself sick about this. You both know how I felt about Miles.” Lila’s eyes misted with tears. Rollins rubbed his temple and exhaled. “I tell you what; I’ll give you thirty days to pay the interest on the mortgage. That should give you time to come up with a solution of some sort. But that’s all I can do. After the thirty days, well, I’m sorry to say the bank will have to foreclose.”

Granny’s eyes flashed hatred at Rollins Hartwell.

“What do you mean the
bank
will foreclose? Hartwell, you old buzzard, you are the one foreclosing, not the bank! You think nobody knows that you have stolen from all the poor people in the valley? Huh? Think again, Hartwell!” Granny raised her black beaded drawstring bag and slammed it against Rollins Hartwell’s head. He yelped and began rubbing his head.

Isabella ran into the bank and grabbed Granny’s arm. “Granny what in this world!” Isabella pulled on Granny’s hands and hips.

“You apologize to Mr. Hartwell, you hear?” Isabella looked over at her mother. “Mama, take Granny outside for a walk.” Lila looked at Isabella with empty eyes and then took Granny by the hand.

Isabella turned to Rollins Hartwell, still rubbing the side of his head from the direct hit. She spoke with a throat full of emotion. “Mr. Hartwell, you know we are all alone and I appreciate your helping us, but you must know how hard this is for Granny.” Isabella pulled Granny toward her. “Come on, Granny, let’s go.”

Isabella opened the bank door and stepped outside. She looked at her mother. “What in the name of the Lord--! Mama, you know you cannot let Granny slug Mister Hartwell anytime she feels like it. We gotta keep quiet until we find a way out of this mess.”

Lila seemed oblivious to all that was around her as she stared into the distance.

Isabella started down the bank steps and with one hand shielding her eyes from the blazing sun.

In the distance, she saw a young Negro boy running down the street, as though a tiger was chasing him. With a package under one arm, he yanked at his loose suspenders with the other. The boy ran straight up to Isabella, and by the time he reached her, he was gasping for air. He laid the large package at her feet as he said, “You Miz Isabella Grace?” His eyes were dark and quick. He had a strong jaw and a handsome face.

“For heaven’s sake--” said Granny as she looked at him with curious eyes.

She took hold of the horse’s bridle and looked the boy up and down. “Boy, your mama ain’t got any soap?”

“Ain’t got no ma, just me. I worked on the railroad for a while and then came back here a couple of months ago when my pa took sick.”

Granny moved closer to him and from her expression, you could tell that she was concerned. “He’s doing better now, son?”

“Yessum he is. He’s dead.”

Granny gave him a quizzical look. “How old are you, boy?”

“I ain’t no boy, I’ll be nineteen next week.” He flashed a warm smile. “My name’s Jesse; pleased to meet you.”

Isabella smiled and spun around. “My name’s Isabella, Isabella McCoy, Jesse. This is my mama, Lila McCoy, and my granny.”

Jesse tapped his foot and they noticed something in his right trouser pocket. He saw three sets of eyes staring at his trouser pocket. He shook his head and laughed, then removed the object from his pocket. All three women jumped back.

“Scared yawl, didn’t I? Bet yawl thought I had a pistol.” He waved his harmonica at the women.

Isabella narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. “You better never scare us like that again. Can you play that thing, Jesse?” Isabella noticed his long brown toes peeping through the end of his shoes.

“The shoes, they belonged to my pa. He gave’em to me before he passed.”

Jesse sat down on the curb and put the harmonica to his mouth. His eyes were squeezed shut as he threw his head back and burst into a rambunctious harmonica melody.

Lila looked around, hoping that not a soul from the
Baptist
Church
was watching. Isabella smiled and watched Jesse’s long fingers slide up and down the harmonica.

Granny said, “We are a people of the Lord, but your music is so beautiful it could be played on the Sabbath.”

“Thank you. I’d better hurry on and get to the woods,” Jesse said, scrambling to his feet.

“Where exactly is that?” Lila asked.

“Mr. Rollins Hartwell; he let me stay in the old house my daddy lived in. That is until he gets it sold. I work for him; plow his fields and sometimes I do some work for Mister Jules McGinnis, just like dis morning when I went to see Mrs. Scarborough ‘bout some chores her husband needed done.”

“Mister McGinnis saw me and asked me to find Miss Isabella and take her this package.” Three sets of eyes turned to Isabella and then to the package that lay at her feet. Isabella began to untie the card on the package. Her eyes grew big and she thought,
Oh my God, Jules McGinnis
! She pulled the pink string ribbon and released the package.

Inside it was a smaller box, with inscription written in gold:
Maison Virot
. She ripped open the top. She found nestled around generous layers of pink tissue a familiar, magnificent rose velvet bonnet.

Isabella scooped out the bonnet and gently turned it over for closer inspection. The lining was inscribed in the most beautiful gold cursive that she had ever seen. In the middle of the lining was a gold crown with flowers and streamers of bows.

She placed the bonnet on her head and a white envelope fell to the ground. Jesse bent down and handed the envelope to Isabella. She tore it open and pulled out a cream colored card. It read:

My Dear Isabella,

After seeing this lovely French bonnet tied around your beautiful face,

I could not bear to think of it on another.

Till we meet again…

Jules McGinnis

Lila removed a handkerchief from the pocket of her dress and patted the beads of perspiration on her face. Her temper flared. “Isabella Grace, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Don’t rush to judgment, Mama. I’m every bit as surprised as you are.”

“You tell me now what this is all about. A man like Jules McGinnis…” she closed her eyes for a moment, opened them and touched Isabella’s face, “I would just die…”

“Mama, listen to me! I did not even know his name until I bumped into him at Mrs. Scarborough’s millinery shop. He asked me my name and I told him Isabella Grace; I didn’t even tell him my last name.” She ran her hand through her hair. “I reckon trouble follows me wherever I go. Maybe I have bad written all over my face.” Isabella’s eyes filled with tears and Lila kissed her daughter’s forehead.

“No, sweetheart, that is the craziest thing that I have ever heard you say; of course, you don’t have bad written across your face. You do not have a bad bone in your body. But a man like Jules McGinnis, I am afraid to say, ain’t a thing but bad.”

With a stern face, Lila turned to Jesse. “Son, would you take this gift back to Mister McGinnis?”

Isabella spun around.

“Mama, no, please! Let me keep the hat! Please, it’s from
Paris
.”

Granny turned to Lila. “For heaven’s sake, Lila, let the child keep the bonnet. What has she done wrong? If old McGinnis wants to make himself look big by buying Isabella that bonnet, let him. Besides, if he comes anywhere near her, I’ll shoot him! I swear to you I’ll fill his britches with buckshot!” With angry eyes, Granny leaned into Jesse.

“Rollins is a no-good, lying buzzard, meaner than a black snake. If Lila and Isabella are willing, we can keep you in chores for a while. Ain’t got no money, but we sure could use some help with the crops. We’re thinking ‘bout planting us some cotton. We can give you a place to sleep in the barn and three square meals.” Granny narrowed her eyes and hissed, “And I believe I can wash them clothes a little better.”

Isabella smiled. “That’s awful kind, Granny.”

Lila pushed her hands into her skirt pockets and looked defeated. “Lord help us.”

Jesse’s face lit up. “Praise the Lord! My pa always say the Lord moves in mysterious ways and he shure done moved mysterious this afternoon. Thank you, Mrs. Lila, Miss Isabella, and thank you, Granny!” Isabella grinned and met Jesse’s gaze. Jesse untied the horse’s reins and jumped into the wagon. Isabella laid her head on Granny’s shoulder, while Lila stared into the thick woods that blanketed the
Chattahoochee
River
.

As Jesse maneuvered their old red wagon, the sun set across
Shakerag
Valley
.

Isabella held tight to her box with the hat that she couldn’t wait to wear one day.

Before she entered the room, she could smell the scent of his tobacco. She stood there with a provocative look, hands on her hips, ebony locks falling to her waist. She certainly belonged amidst the Napoleon urns, damask-draped pink marble columns, faded imported silks, heavily fringed pillows. A magnificent Baccarat crystal chandelier hung low in the center of the room, reflecting the fire and the colors of Sevres porcelain. One had to teeter around the room so carefully, to avoid knocking over a minute statue of Josephine herself.

Jules turned up his whiskey and continued to stand. His eyes followed Jacqueline as she seated herself on a throne of embossed aqua silk, protected by princely arms. Jules smiled out of the corner of his mouth as he did so often before announcing his thoughts. He removed a cigar from his breast pocket and noticed Jacqueline’s black cat jump into her lap. He could hear the cat purr from across the room.

Jacqueline stroked the cat’s head and crossed one lithe leg over the other. She adjusted her pale silk gown and pulled the straps down over her shoulders. She smiled a seductive smile, looking much like her cat.

“What do you want with me?” she asked.

Jules removed his hat, put down his cigar, shook his head from side to side, walked over and closed the door. He leaned against the doorjamb. His eyes focused on hers and stripped away all pretenses. He made an impatient gesture and said with a raised tone, “Woman, you beat all I have ever seen. You want to go and get yourself killed?”