GodPretty in the Tobacco Field (23 page)

G
unnar let out a squeezed breath, banging his head against dirt, a rasping cry fed to the charred earth, soaking my denials.

Ada sent another cackling cry across the fields.

Beside me, Beau Crockett yelled, “Bitch,” and thrust a fist toward Ada. “
I will kill you
.”

Again, Rainey cursed his injury, then twisted around, stretching for Ada, but she slipped out of his grasp.

A cold fury ignited inside. Forgetting my wounds, I jumped up and lit after Ada. My feet swept across the crackling field—heels slapping close to hers—missing her by inches. Then I shot out my hand and caught her by the hair.

Ada spun around, clawed at me, her witching nails sunk into flesh. She lifted a foot, kicked my burnt legs, scraping blistered flesh.

I swung my arm, and she grabbed it and sunk her teeth into skin. I threw back my other hand to strike her, lost my footing, sending us both tumbling to the ground.

Ada rolled atop me and leaned into me and bit my check, thrashing, wild-catting her fists and feet against my burning legs.

I kicked back and raised my fist, striking her cheek.

Someone pulled me to my knees and pinned strong hands to my arms.

Ada toppled nearby.

“It's okay,” Rainey said. “C'mon, come on,” he urged.

“Let me go, Rainey.” I jerked. “Sh-she—” I felt my body slack against him.

“Let's get you home, Roo,” he pleaded.

“Everything's gone,” I said. “Ruined.”

Ada bared her broken teeth.

“You evil fleabag . . . you . . . you destroyed our crops . . . us . . .” I screamed and struggled to loosen Rainey's hold.

Ada scrambled to her feet, singsonging, “
Made him go a'sleep in a deep hole, a bad beau that Carter beau—a'planting girls wherever he'd go. A bad beau that Carter beau . . .
” She escaped to the woods, her ditty snagging the boughs of tall pines.

I felt Rainey tighten his grip on my arms, give a little shake. “No, girl, let her go!”

I lowered my head to my knees, rocking, sobbing a trembly hymn of denials.

Beau Crockett hollered out, “Tried to tell you 'bout them Stumps, Gunnar. Tried. Caught her two days ago tryin' to steal my kerosene cans! Ya got more to worry 'bout than your nigger-lovin' whore here.” He lurched after Ada.

Rainey let go of me and sprang sideways into the air. He tackled Crockett, slamming a fist into his face, once, twice. Beau's nose laid over enough for me to see it was broken.

Behind me in the distance someone laid on a horn. Crockett's son cursed, took off, barreling behind Ada, leaving his daddy to fend for himself.

I turned to see the sheriff's automobile rolling through the dying rows, coming straight at us.

On the ground, Beau Crockett growled, shot his hands up, and grabbed Rainey's throat.

Rainey drew back his fist, struck Crockett again, and then again.

“Stop, Rainey,” Gunnar ordered. “You'll kill him.
Stop!
” Gunnar struggled to stand. Droplets of blood spotted his chin and splatted down onto his white night stockings. He winced and slumped over.

“
Gunnar!
” I scrambled over and shook him. “Gunnar, I—”

Slowly, Gunnar pulled himself to a kneeling stance, nailed a chilling glare to my eyes. He grimaced, then took a heavy hand and slapped me hard across the face once. Again.

My head rocked. Stunned and star-spotted, I cried out, pressed my hand to my stinging cheek.

Rainey cursed Crockett. I snapped my head upward and saw Rainey's jaw harden, a killing blood taking hold of his eyes. Same as I'd seen pass through Gunnar's when he was riled and there was no going back. His mouth set, jaw twitching. I knew Rainey would. He'd kill him, years of loss, pain, and avenging his daddy gathering deep.

“Rainey, no, please no,” I cried out.

“
Rainey!
” me and Gunnar rang.

A red light whirled, slashed through the automobile's smoky headlights coming up fast. Doors slammed, and men's shouts filled the air. Behind, a small fire truck rolled through the plumes of smoke, crushing plants, spraying water from a hose hooked up to its metal tank.

Rainey dropped his fist to Crockett's face again. Fresh blood spurted out his mouth. Sheriff ran up to them and tried to pull Rainey off Crockett. “Lie still, boy!”

Rainey grunted.

“Gonna end up a dead dirt nigger like your pa if ya don't lie still. Right now, I say!” Sheriff tugged again.

Rainey landed a wild punch to Sheriff's chin, then a final hard jab to Crockett before Sheriff slammed the butt of a shotgun upside Rainey's head.

Rainey crumpled onto the ground, grasped his head, moaning. Sheriff kicked him in the side.

Rainey tried to rise, but his jaw folded down, plowed into the earth.

Crockett crawled a few feet away and lay still in the dirt.

Sheriff knelt down, rolled Rainey over, and slapped handcuffs on him. “Rainey Ford, taking you to the can for assault,” Sheriff huffed. Then to Gunnar, “What happened here?” He hitched a thumb to the burnt tobacco and spit.

“Crocketts is what happened.
Him
.” Gunnar raised a burnt arm. “Him and Ada Stump.” Gunnar scratched out words as he slowly pulled himself up. “He's trespassing, she lit the fire. Girl's ran off into the woods.”

“That wisp of a gal?” Sheriff asked.

“She got hold of kerosene and straw.” Gunnar grabbed his side. “Claimed she lit up his boy's tent, too. Crockett here was trying to kill her.”

Sheriff rubbed his sore jaw, narrowed his eyes. “Ada Stump done that?”

Gunnar coughed, clutched his side with his burnt arm again, nodded.

“Looks like you need Doc Sils out here,” Sheriff said. “Her too.” Sheriff jutted his chin my way. “I'll send him out when I get back to town.”

I looked down at my nightgown, shreds of torched fabric clinging to a red blistered leg, felt my nipped cheek.

Sheriff turned to his deputy. “Get this colored boy into the car.”

“No, he's hurt,” I said, and stumbled over to Rainey, fearing they'd hurt him more. “It was the Crocketts and Ada—”

Rainey tried to get to his feet. “Roo, I-I'll be okay, get . . . now get on home.” He pulled himself up on one knee, then collapsed.

“Rainey!” I squalled.

Gunnar snapped me back and then shoved me into the dirt.

I sprang back up. “
You
.” I stabbed at Gunnar. “You and the Crocketts are in the same bone-pickin' trash pile—”

“Silence!” Gunnar sliced his hand through the air.

I glared back. “I'm through with that. You and your tongue-burning potions and mean fireball God ain't gonna keep me silent anymore.”

Gunnar looked off, like maybe he'd spent his last word with me. I didn't know whether to feel tall or sorry for him, maybe worried about what would come next.

“Get up, boy.” Sheriff poked the barrel of his shotgun into Rainey's back, then gave another hard shove.

Rainey tried again, this time wobbling on both knees. I slipped his arm over my shoulder and tried to heave him up.

The sheriff nailed me a warning, poked Rainey harder with his gun.

“Now see here, Lamar,” Gunnar said to the sheriff, “I'll take care of Rainey. See that he's punished for assaulting you. You go ahead and remove that Crockett trash, but leave the boy for me. He's got a date with the army soon.”

A few feet away Beau Crockett rolled over, spitting out dirt, moaning.

“Hauling 'em both in.
Both
.” Sheriff goosed his intent and motioned to the deputy. “C'mon, Deputy, hurry up and help me get 'em into the car. Then go find that Stump girl, bring her in, quick-like!”

D
awn climbed over Stump Mountain, dissolving the night's madness and bringing a soft rain. Me and Gunnar limped into the yard just as the milk delivery service pulled away.

Clutching the milk bottles, Rainey's mama stole out of the shadows as we stepped onto the porch.

“Gunnar,” she cried, “I've been waiting for you. I've been so afraid.” Abby passed the milk to me, shook the rain off her long skirts. “I slept in the Parkers' storage room last night trying to finish sewing their new drape order. Someone said you were in trouble . . . The fields, they're gone! The burley and vegetables. . . And then I saw the sheriff drive up and leave with my Rainey! And him without his shoes . . . Gunnar . . . oh mercy.” Abby's leaky eyes ballooned. “Just look at you two! What—”

Gunnar folded into the porch rocker. “Get my bourbon, RubyLyn.”

Abby followed me inside. She found an old sheet and cut it into strips for bandages and applied some honey to our burns.

Weren't no time before old Doc Sils pulled up in his automobile.

The doctor taped Gunnar's ribs, tended to his arm while Gunnar sat stone-faced at the kitchen table. Then Doc took off my bandages and tsked at Abby's dressings.

He pulled out a bottle and lit my right leg with an iodine tincture. I wrapped my hands around flesh, gripping high on my thigh, squeezing so I wouldn't cry out as the burning liquid leeched hold of my flesh and set it ablaze, again and again. I gritted my teeth, afraid to whimper—too afraid of what else might be coming from Gunnar. I peeked over at him sitting across from me.

Abby pressed a wet rag to his face. Gunnar pushed her away with his bottle of Kentucky Gentleman and nursed himself another healthy swig. A glaze of bourbon shined his taut lips.

“Keep the dressings clean,” Doc said to me after he bandaged the leg. “Other leg will heal fine without a dressing, but this one'll likely scar good, young lady.”

Doc took my hand, waiting for me to say something, maybe waiting for me to admit something, and when I sucked in my breath and didn't, he preached, “You're mighty lucky . . . I've seen varnish pop off a floor like gunshot and a horse's flesh ripped clean to the bone 'cause of fire.” He pressed an iodine-soaked cotton ball to my cheek where Ada had scraped the flesh with her teeth.

Gunnar took another gulp of bourbon, pulled himself up from the chair, and thudded upstairs. At the top of the stairs he bellowed down, “Clean up this pigpen, RubyLyn.”

Doc reached into his toting bag, pulled out a bottle of capsules, and handed them to me. “Give these to Gunnar for his aches,” he said, “twice a day if he needs it. I want him to be comfortable.”

I took the bottle of ruby-red and blue capsules with the word “Tuinal” printed on the label. I waited for him to reach into the doctoring bag for me—maybe offer strong aspirin powders or ointment. Doc peered over his spectacles, and said, “See that Gunnar has bed rest and doesn't get worked up, RubyLyn.” He stood and snapped his medical bag shut.

In the hall, Doc walked past Abby, stopped and flicked out his palm, and said, “Negress Ford.” Abby ran back to the kitchen, grabbed his hat off the table, and gave it to him.

After his automobile rattled down the road, Abby said, “I need to try and get Rainey home.”

From the top of the stairs Gunnar thumped a fist on the banister. “Not today, Abby. Think it's best if Rainey sits a while and stays away from RubyLyn.”

“No,” I shouted.

“Go home, Abby,” he said, cutting me a sharp look.

Abby's eyes filled, but she nodded and slipped out the door.

“He can't stay in there, Gunnar, he can't!” I protested. “He could be in there weeks. He'll miss his army date. You said so yourself—”

“And I am now saying: he's staying put.”

“If he lays in there he'll lose—”

“Should've thought of that before
you
lay in the fields.”

“Ada Stump's laying tales. We didn't do—”

“You did enough, dammit!” he shot out, swinging a wild arm. “
Good Lord
. Look at the crop—our lives pulled from the dirt.”

“I didn't do anything. Didn't. Do. It.” I stacked my denial and sent the argument back up the stairs.

“And I'm going to make damn certain you don't!” Wobbly, he spun around toward his bedroom door. “Your pa's devils have taken your GodPretty, RubyLyn.” His prickly words floated down the stairs, smacking skin.

The rest of the day was spent nursing wounds. By the next morning, my nerves were lit with deeper hurts. I went outside and sat on the back porch, rocking my thoughts. Here my husband-to-be was sitting in jail, without shoes even.

I stared over to the Crocketts' place, then back to the tree line, hugging myself in Mama's jacket, pulling anxiously at the threads. For a few seconds my mind played tricks and I stood to squint. It was the visit from earlier—Ada running alongside it.

Rubbing my eyes, I settled back into my seat, smacking the rocker's platform to and fro. Dizzying my thoughts. Folks said Nameless's jail only had two tiny cells. What if they put Rainey and Crockett together? What if they hurt him?

I blew on my skin around the bandage, the tingling, burning, paining me more. Soon I dozed off dreaming about crazy things—mean snakes and talking to Daddy on my old tin telephone toy.

Two hours had passed when I awoke to Sierra smacking her paw against my hurting leg. I rubbed the cat's soft ears, slowly rose in a shadow falling over me.

I took a step back.

“Y-you scared me,” I breathed out.

Henny stretched out an arm and hurried up the steps. “Oh, Roo. I was scared silly. Oh! Look at ya . . . you're hurt . . . Your leg! I'm sorry about all this.” She grabbed me in a hug.

I winced and stepped out of her clasp and inspected the cut on her face, her dress torn, barely covering her chest.

“Did they catch her?” I asked.

She wagged her head, then wiped her red eyes on a dirty arm. “No, th-they's got men on the mountain looking. . . .” Her words were brittle and broke. “Pa's . . . Pa's gonna kill her. And I have to leave.” She sagged against me. “Ma's sending me to Beauty. She said I couldn't be trusted 'cause of Carter. Said it's all my fault. Oh, Roo, I—I have to live with old Auntie,” she wailed.

“No, Henny. For good?”

“Yeah . . . Then Pa called me a whore, same as Lena. Just like that, and told me not to come back,” she despaired. “I gots to leave quick 'fore they find me.”

Out in the field I heard a distant shout. And another.

“I'm leaving, too, even if it kills me,” I whispered, hugging her back, and then we both cried buckets.

The shouts grew closer.

“That's Pa,” she said, shivering. “I—I gotta get now 'fore he takes the stick to me again.”

I looked at the raised tracks on her arms, her swelling cheek.

“Gonna miss ya terribly,” she whispered.

Taking off my jacket, I wrapped it around her. “Me too.”

Henny widened her eyes, raised a hand to her chest. “Oh, ya knows how much I love it, Roo. But it's your ma's—”

“Mama would want my
sister
to have it.”

“We's sisters,” she said, her eyes shining with fresh tears.

“Always,” I said, mine coming hot and fast.

“Swear?” She laid an X across her chest and two more across a shaky palm, then held up her hand to me.

“Swear.” I pressed our palms together in a clasp.

Henny squeezed our hands to her cheek, and whispered, “Get your man and get outta this devil town, Roo.”

“I will—”

Her daddy peeled the color off the sky with more shouts.

She dropped her hold and took off, leaving my affirmation hanging.

Leaning over the rail, I watched her, hair tatted and tangled, those bare legs whipping through the burnt tobaccos. She wouldn't be back. Likely, the last tobacco rash she would ever fuss about, too. I'd sorely miss her. I wiped my wet cheek against my shoulder. “Good night, Henny.” I raised my hand and blew a kiss.

I sat back down on the rocker, piling on thoughts. When I couldn't stand it any longer, I jumped up. I had to see Rainey. Had to find a way out of here.

Gunnar ate his dinner at noon sharp, same as every day, and washed it down with two of his pain pills. When I was sure he was napping, I went to my room and changed into a clean dress.

Light as dandelion seeds and just as quiet, I slipped down the stairs and out the door. Quickly, I pulled on my shoes.

I had to get to him. But first I needed to make a stop.