Sweet Song (17 page)

Leon lifted his head and looked Billy straight in the eye as he had been learning to do over the past months.

Everyone sitting around fell silent.

“You’ll figure it out.” Leon stood and went to put his plate in the barrel. He heard the others laughing.

Someone repeated, “You’ll figure it out,” then sniggered.

Much later, the night fell hard, dark, and cold. There were no buzzing insects. Even the river sounded chilled.

Leon heard Jake stumble in the darkness as he approached the shed. Leon wanted to thank Jake for what he’d said, but didn’t want there to be a question about his heritage. If Jake knew what color
Leon really was, Leon feared too many questions would be answered and too many stories would be questioned.

“Hey,” Jake said as he approached.

“Hey,” Leon answered.

“I been thinkin’,” Jake said. He put his foot on the stone step next to where Leon’s feet rested.

Leon looked up and could see Jake in the darkness, but not make out the details of his face. He wondered how the man found his way to the shed.

They both waited for the other to begin to speak.

“Well what are you thinking?” Leon asked.

“I been saving longer ‘an you.”

“Yes?”

Jake’s foot shifted next to Leon’s. “You know I’m savin’?” Before Leon could respond, Jake went on, “I could match any money you put up, but I need to keep the rest. I want this to be fair and square. I don’t need to resent our joining up to get out of here.”

“Okay,” Leon said.

“You sure?” Jake sat next to Leon.

“I don’t need you to be angry with me.”

“I guess not.”

“And I don’t need to feel like I owe you anything,” Leon added.

“I suppose that’s true too.”

They fell silent again, letting their thoughts move as slowly as they needed to.

Jake said, “That doesn’t mean you have plans to leave in the night sometime does it?”

“No, but it means I’m free to do so if I change my mind.”

“You won’t change your mind. I won’t give you reason to.”

“I didn’t think so.” Leon leaned back onto his hands. “What are you thinking we’d do?”

P
lans have a way of working out once they are made in earnest. Leon and Jake’s plan was no different. Focused attention is powerful, it adjusts all the daily decisions that are made, down to how much food is eaten, and how much is stored in a pocket for later. Jerky, when it’s available, can last a long while. Both men became cautious while working. Any wound or muscle pull could reduce their ability to travel.

They were not slaves to the foreman. They could choose to leave whenever they wanted. But they were afraid to make their plan too apparent because it would mean that they’d be watched closer. It meant that if someone else came into town, they could be replaced, even if there were a labor shortage.

Whatever their thoughts, whatever their truths, the river called to them. The longer they worked alongside the river, the more mysterious it became. Although the land remained stable, like a man’s soul, the river continued to flow. Where did it begin? Where did it end? What adventures lay between?

Some men get caught by the river’s promise and others don’t. For Leon and Jake, the urge to explore, to move on, grew larger as the days grew shorter in a bizarre but accurate balancing act between the physical and the ethereal.

In early fall, the weight of the scale tipped. Like a line drawn in the dirt, one moment a man is on one side of the line, the next moment on the opposite. A new world emerges. Change happens in the most profound ways once that line is crossed. For Leon and Jake, the scales were not perfectly balanced. Leon was ready to move on.

“I’d like to be settled and with a job before winter,” Leon said.

The night sky was clear. The cold biting. Leon recognized the feel of the air, its smell. There wasn’t much time to decide now, and he was ready to go.

“A little more money,” Jake said. “In case there’s no work yet. It’s the end of the season. It’s cutting time. There won’t be timber in the mills until spring floods.”

“I can’t wait. What’s another week, five dollars? A month, twenty dollars?” Leon never owned money and even three dollars seemed like more than enough to live on. He bought a coat and nothing more. He had plenty of money and no interest in things. Money was not the issue, freedom was. He had worked his whole life for other white men and the only real freedom he’d felt was when he traveled those few short weeks with the roamers.

Jake bit his lower lip. He scratched his head. He paced. “Tell you what? I’ll go tomorrow after we’re paid. We’ll meet here. I’ll hold our pot, so its together and even. I don’t want you runnin’ off early ‘cause you can’t wait. We’ll put all the money together in one sack and use it for food as we get to the next town, and room and board while we’re in Williamsport. We’ll get jobs there and split what’s left.” Jake grew a beaming smile as if he had the perfect plan.

Leon was glad to go and might have gone alone had Jake not changed his mind and agreed to leave the next night. But as it was, he felt satisfied with the plan. He offered nothing more than a nod in answer.

Jake shoved his hand toward Leon in earnest.

Leon shook it, and the deal was set.

“Let me hold the money, so I can pack up for tomorrow.”

Leon cocked his head, but relinquished without complaint. He reached into his sack and pulled out most, but not all, his money and handed it over to Jake.

The following day, both men ate more than usual.

Billy made another comment, but not in front of the others where he could be ridiculed. He said only, “Black or White,” as Leon stepped past him.

Leon, gaining confidence in his lie, said, “Billy or William,” then continued on. He would be gone the next day. Billy could do little to
hurt him now. And being black wasn’t a crime. His fear lay in being found a liar.

Neither Leon nor Jake worked as though their hearts were in the job that last day. The two of them ate together but separate from the rest of the crew. Once they were paid, they walked off side by side.

“We’ll leave after dark,” Jake said. He held out his hand.

“This too?” Leon said.

“That was the plan.”

Leon hesitated, then eased his hand forward for Jake to take the money.

“You don’t trust me?” Jake questioned.

Leon said nothing.

“Tonight, then.” Jake wandered off toward the bunkhouse.

Leon would have wanted to leave before nightfall, but either way was fine. Perhaps Jake was afraid they’d be followed. The woods would be dark, but they didn’t need to travel fast. And they’d probably only stay in the woods until they were out of view of camp, then they’d head for the river, their guide on the trip.

In the shed, Leon made sure he had his sparse belongings packed. He fingered his book. The overcast skies had kept him from reading by moonlight lately. He had bought a candle, but rationed its use to make it last.

He tied his blanket with twine. He stuffed his sack and its contents into the bedroll. He felt the extra money there, but did not count it. Security was in knowing its location. He thought about his dishonesty with Jake and wondered why he hadn’t handed over all the money. Perhaps because whites had never shown their honesty to him. Yet, neither had Negroes.

Leon sat in the doorway and lay back placing his head on his bedroll. He listened for Jake’s footsteps. The sky darkened and the stars emerged. Cold crept from the woods behind him and from the river in front of him. The scent of snow rested in the breezes carried from the north. Only a few weeks left, he thought, before the change in seasons became official.

The stars grew brighter and the air colder. Leon put his arms over his chest and soon dozed off. When he awoke, he recognized the feel of a new day. Morning was near.

Jake had never come for him.

Leon’s knees hurt from sleeping with his legs hanging over the shed door opening. Bone chilled, his teeth chattered and his spine had what Martha used to call chicken skin running along it. He thought of checking for Jake at the bunkhouse, but decided against it. The others might awaken. His mind raced, but arrived nowhere. He needed to wake up more, get his wits about him. Then he heard someone coming. Was he wrong about the time? Had Jake fallen asleep too?

Leon grabbed his bedroll with his sack and money rolled inside. When he stepped outside, he saw Billy and stopped dead in his tracks. Only a pre-morning breeze moved as Billy approached.

“He left last night,” Billy said.

“Who?” Leon said.

Billy pointed to Leon’s bedroll.

“Oh,” Leon lowered his head. “How did you know?”

“I observe. I been watchin’ you two. Seen you give him your wages. Knew right then my suspicions were right.”

“What did you come by for, then? To laugh at me?”

“I noticed him gamblin’ on you, but it was too late. You wouldn’t a believed me if I told you. Now, you can see on yer own. You don’t have much people sense, do you? Never mind, I already know.” Billy walked right up to Leon. “Try to be more cautious, more observant of the manners of others. Pay attention.”

“I can’t trust anybody.”

Billy held out his hand and there was money in it. “Can’t trust everybody,” he said.

“Why you giving me this?”

“Trust don’t deserve this treatment. Besides, I know you don’t like this work. I don’t know what you can do, but I can see this ain’t how you gonna spend your life. I will tell you this, the lumber camps is no better. But you’ll find out.”

“No I won’t.”

Billy laughed. “That’s all the work there is, farmin’ in the summer, timber in winter, and buildin’. You ain’t in Philadelphia, you know.”

Leon didn’t know where Philadelphia was exactly. “Maybe I should go there.”

Billy laughed harder. “Not now you won’t.” He nodded toward the woods. “You best go.”

Leon shifted his weight as if he were going to run, but didn’t move from that spot.

“Black or white?” Billy asked.

“Black,” Leon said, and instantly felt at ease. The river sighed. The branches on the trees relaxed. Leon’s shoulders rested and his neck softened.

They stared at each another.

“Do I look black?” Leon asked.

Billy cocked his head, looking for something, Leon thought, that could help him with the identification, help him confirm Leon’s answer.

“White,” Leon said, and the familiar guilt came back. He lied.

“Your choice,” Billy said. He waved his hand to shoo Leon. “Now, git. You’ll make better time travelin’ by day anyhow.”

This time, Leon let his body run. He didn’t look back. He ran, and for the moment was himself, not black or white, not Italian or Indian. Leon was a child again, innocent and free.

Even in the woods, Leon could feel the river. It had its own weight, its own sound and feel. Like a strong man, the river had presence and charisma.

He felt odd as he pulled away from the river, like leaving home. His love of the river was a true emotion. The river had saved him. It had been there while he worked and while he slept. It was there now, beside him. Yes, he could feel it as he could feel Pine Creek all the while he grew up.

After a while, Leon got angry with Jake for lying. The two of them had become friends and had talked and planned together. Had Jake lied about his mother and sisters? About college?

With each thought, Leon stepped harder and grabbed more aggressively to the tree trunks he used to help propel himself uphill. How could he get along in life if everyone he met was allowed to use him? Even his own family? He stumbled on a protruding root and
fell onto one knee. His hand gripped a rock. He breathed in gusts of air. His throat hurt. He had forgotten water. Proof of his stupidity.

Leon sat and put his arms across his knees. He shook his head. The air around him stood still, even though he witnessed the wind playing in the upper branches of the trees.

He had to change. As Billy had told him, Leon knew he had to become more people-sure. He had to observe their every action. As the calm of his own breath returned, Leon sang a song about how he would watch everyone and notice if they lied to others. He sang how he would be the observer of all things dangerous and dishonest. After a while, his throat still scratchy, Leon headed out at a slower pace.

Without someone who knew the area, Leon had no idea where he traveled. The river was his only guide. The roamers had known the hills and creeks and farms. Leon did not.

Yet, he ran across what appeared to be paths, not roads. He couldn’t discern whether they were animal trails or Indian trails. He learned to search for scat and prints, to notice hair on branches, rub marks where black bear had scratched or white tail deer had rubbed velvet from their antlers. By focusing his senses on the natural elements, he was amazed at what he knew. Like smelling the river and somehow knowing that it was about two miles off to his right. Smelling the air and noticing that snow was closer than he had imagined.