The Pilgrim Song (14 page)

“It looks terrible!” Jenny whispered. “Could anybody live in this?”

“It’s not as bad as it seems, Jenny,” Clint said. “It just hasn’t been cared for. They built houses pretty well in those days. I’ll bet the beams are hand-hewn.” Clint tried to be as encouraging as he could. He shut the engine off and got out. The others piled out and started toward the house. They had gotten as far as the porch when three men suddenly appeared. They were obviously all from the same family. They wore faded overalls and heavy boots, and their thin faces bore the family likeness. The oldest of the men, who looked like he was fifty-five or sixty, spoke in a rusty voice. “Whad’ya want?”

Lewis stepped forward and said, “My name’s Lewis Winslow. Is your name Cundiff?”

“Whad’ya wanna know fer?”

Lewis took a deep breath. He hated unpleasantness, and he saw something rising here. He was disappointed to find that Clint had gone back to the truck; Lewis didn’t want to face these men alone. He cleared his throat before declaring firmly, “This is my place.”

Cundiff did not speak for a moment; then he spat a stream
of amber tobacco juice and laughed. “You come to collect the rent?”

“No,” Lewis said as calmly as he could manage, “We’ve come to live here.”

One of the two younger men laughed, revealing more than one broken tooth. He held a rifle loosely in his right hand. “Whad’ya think of that, Perry? They think they’s gonna move us out.”

The third man was somewhat older, in his thirties. He was a thickset, hulking brute with the same brown hair as the other two. “They’ll play hard doin’ that,” he grunted. The man looked as if he enjoyed trouble.

Lewis saw a thin woman with gray stringy hair come to the doorway. She stared at them suspiciously. Another woman, younger and with a baby in her arms, appeared beside her. The two women didn’t speak.

“I guess we can pay maybe twenty dollars a month rent,” Cundiff said. He started to fumble in his overalls pocket, but Lewis interrupted him.

“I don’t want any rent. I brought my family here to stay. You’ve got to move on.”

“Can’t help you. We done settled in. I’m offerin’ to pay rent. That’s fair.”

The big hulking one named Perry said, “Look at ’em, Ace. They’re Yankees, ain’t they?”

“I ’spect they are,” Ace said with a smile. “You might as well move on, Yankees. We ain’t leavin’.”

Lewis had never encountered a situation like this, and he said tensely, “Sheriff Beauchamp said to tell you—”

“I don’t care what the law says. We’re stayin’ here. He ain’t got no authority outside Summerdale, so now you git!”

Jenny was standing behind her father and feeling her fear rise. These were obviously the lowest class people, and she had no doubt they were violent. She had heard that of southerners, and now the one with the rifle spat on the ground and
moved closer to her. “You ain’t a bad-lookin’ heifer. Me and you might go two-steppin’ some night.”

“You’ll have to go,” Lewis said desperately. The situation was beyond him, and his voice was not steady.

Bart Cundiff merely laughed. “Ace, see that these Yankees don’t take nothin’ when they leave.”

Jenny suddenly saw Clint, who had stepped behind the truck for a moment and now came out from behind it. He held the shotgun that belonged to her father, and the way he handled it showed practiced use.

“Watch out!” The younger man called Ace started to lift the rifle, and suddenly the air was tense. It all happened in a moment. Jenny saw Clint raise the shotgun and look down the barrel. The sound of the hammer being drawn back made a sharp, pronounced clicking sound that seemed to strike against her like a warning.

Ace Cundiff had his own rifle half lifted, but suddenly he was looking into the muzzle of the shotgun, and the eyes that stared at him caused him to cry out, “I ain’t shootin!”

“Just lay that rifle down, and you’ll be all right. Do it now!”

Ace laid the rifle on the ground, and Clint lowered his own but kept it handy. “You can take your stuff out, but you’re leavin’.”

Perry started toward him, but when Clint swung the shotgun, he stopped as abruptly as if he had run into a wall.

“We’ll have the law out if we have to, but I think you’d best be gettin’ your stuff and clearin’ out,” Clint said evenly.

****

It took two hours for the Cundiffs to hitch up a wagon and load their possessions in it. Clint and Lewis watched them carefully, having appropriated their rifle and ejected the shells. While Clint and Lewis kept an eye on the packing operation, Joshua climbed back under the blankets in the truck, and the girls took a look around the property. They found a barn out back as well as a smokehouse that looked
to be in pretty good shape. They noticed that there were a number of tools in the barn, and they hoped the squatters planned to leave them.

They returned to Clint and Lewis and described the things they had found. Clint was encouraged that they would have many of the necessary tools and equipment for survival.

Now the women came out and climbed into the wagon, and the younger one turned and gave them a baleful look. She was no more than sixteen or seventeen but looked as hard as any of the men.

“I’m sorry about this,” Hannah said but received only a curse from the young woman.

Bart Cundiff said, “We got crops in the ground.”

“I’ll figure that’s some rent for the time you were here,” Clint said coolly. “Now, move out.”

Ace said, “What about my rifle?”

Clint picked up the rifle, which had been leaning against the pillar, and grasping it by the barrel, extended it.

Ace Cundiff snatched it and glared at Longstreet. “This ain’t over yet!” he said with a threat in his voice.

“It’d better be.” Clint nodded. “You go on now.”

He watched as the wagon rumbled off, and then he turned and said, “Welcome home, Mr. Winslow.”

“It’s a good thing you were here, Clint,” Lewis said. “I wouldn’t have known how to handle it.”

“Well, don’t count on having this much fun every day.” Clint smiled slightly and said, “Let’s go take a tour of your new house.”

They all went inside eagerly, and they were all equally shocked at the condition of the house. They stepped into a large foyer and saw a dining area to the left. The kitchen was behind it. They returned to the foyer and checked out the living area and discovered that the doorway on the far side led to a bedroom. “It’ll take a lot of wood to keep this house warm,” Clint said as the group paused in front of the fireplace in the living room.

“Everything is so filthy,” Jenny said. “They lived like pigs.”

The house was indeed a wreck. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls, and the remnants of carpet looked as if they had never been cleaned. The ceilings were black with the smoke of years’ accumulation. They climbed the stairs and found the bedrooms upstairs in equally poor condition. As Jenny peered in one of the doors, she shuddered. “We can’t sleep in these filthy things.”

“No, I expect we ought to burn these mattresses. But the bed frames appear to be sound,” Hannah said. “We can sleep on our cots until we fix something.”

They continued the tour downstairs in the kitchen. “At least there’s a cookstove here,” Hannah was happy to report. “We won’t have to cook in the fireplace.”

“I’d better check the wood supply,” Clint said. He looked at their faces and said quietly, “It looks pretty bad, but with some soap and water and hard work, it’ll be all right.” He turned and left, and Lewis looked after him.

“I guess you were right about him, Kat.”

“What’s that, Daddy?”

“He just might be our guardian angel.”

The little group wandered around the house, overwhelmed with the task ahead and not knowing exactly where to start. Lewis finally directed them to bring all their belongings in and try to get ready for the night.

Clint came back in and said, “There’s some chickens out there. Anyone for fresh fried chicken?”

“Oh, that sounds good, Clint.” Hannah smiled.

Clint looked over and winked at Kat. “About time you learned to be a country girl, Kat. Come along, and we’ll go get those chickens ready for supper. Mr. Winslow, maybe you and Josh can start a fire and get some water boiling.”

Kat followed Clint out and said, “I’m so glad you’re here, Clint. I was afraid of those men.”

“They won’t be back. Don’t worry about them.” He found that the chickens were tame enough and reached down and
picked one up. “Well, this is the hard part of life, Kat.” He stroked the chicken, which clucked at him, and then he took it by the neck. With one swift movement, he tossed the chicken up, made a wide swing, and popped the neck loose. The headless chicken rolled over, got up, and began running around wildly. Kat stared with shock until the chicken finally moved slower and then finally fell over, pumping bright arterial blood.

“I bet you never thought about having to do that when you were eating chicken, did you, punkin?”

“No, I never did.”

Clint reached over and picked up another chicken. “You want to try this one?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, you can help me pull the feathers off, then.”

****

“It’s nice to sit down at a table and eat,” Lewis said. They had used their own dishes and cooking utensils, and the chicken had been cooked on the stove, which seemed to work very well.

Lewis paused in between bites of food and looked around at the house, saying, “This was a fine place once. Deborah told me how beautiful it was.”

“It will be again, Father,” Hannah said. “Mother would be so happy to know we’re here and are going to fix it up.”

“But we don’t have any money to fix it up.”

“Well, we’ve got hands and backs, and we can work.”

Josh had said little. His hands were shaking, and Clint knew that he was going to have a hard time being cut off from his liquor. His eyes met Hannah’s, and he knew that she was thinking the same thing, that she was worried about her brother.

Kat said, “Did you see the woods over on the other side of the field? I saw a river down there. Maybe we can fish there.”

Jenny dropped her head and began to cry. “This is awful. We’ll starve to death here.”

Hannah went to her sister and bent over to put her arms around her. “It looks pretty bad now, Jenny, but God’s given us this place. We’ve got a roof over our heads and chickens to eat. It’ll be all right.”

Jenny shook her head and refused to be comforted. “Why did this have to happen to us? Why?”

Clint quickly finished his meal and left the room. He did not want to witness Jenny’s fit of grief. He stood out in the darkness of the backyard listening to the chickens clucking and watching the clouds pass by the moon. Even though they weren’t related, he felt that he was somehow tied to these people. He was a man of very little faith in God, but he knew Hannah and Kat believed that God had sent him into their lives. He pondered the strangeness of it all.

****

The hours had flown by as everyone worked hard—even Joshua. Exhausted and ready for a good night’s sleep, they had picked out their bedrooms. Lewis took the one downstairs, and upstairs, Hannah and Kat slept in one and Jenny in the other. Josh had taken the one in the northeast corner, and Clint had the room adjacent to that. There was a fireplace in his room, but he built no fire there.

Instead he went downstairs, where he found Hannah sitting in front of the fire in the living room. “Everyone’s bedded down,” he told her.

“Yes, everyone’s exhausted. Aren’t you tired?”

“I could use a little sleep. It was a hard trip for all of us.”

Hannah motioned to the rocker, and Clint sat down in it carefully. “It looks like the furniture can be used, most of it. It was good stuff before it got abused.”

“I’m so glad we’re here,” Hannah said. She closed her eyes and absorbed the radiant heat that came from the flickering fire. “I feel like we’ve crossed over the last river or something.”

“Lots to do,” he observed.

Hannah did not answer, and the two sat there for a long time. Finally she asked Clint what he thought could be done to the house, and he spoke about the needed repairs and even of planting an early garden. He suddenly shook himself, for he was growing drowsy. “We’re just sitting here like a man and wife talkin’ over the problems of the family,” he said.

Hannah did not speak for a moment; then she looked over at Clint and saw that he was watching her in a peculiar manner. “Didn’t mean to offend you.”

Hannah looked into the fire and said quietly, “I guess you’re wondering why I never married and why I haven’t had much to do with people—at least until all this happened.”

“Yes, I’ve wondered. Is it something you can tell me? But I don’t want to pry.”

Hannah lifted her eyes, and he saw despair in them. She was exhausted from the trip, and now he thought for a moment she was going to let her barrier down. The words came slowly, and she shook her head for emphasis. “Something happened to me, Clint. I’ll never marry now.”

Clint Longstreet knew she was trying to tell him something but couldn’t put it into words. He sat there silently for a while before finally rising to his feet. “Never say never, Hannah.” He turned and said, “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

CHAPTER NINE

Survival

Jenny awoke to find herself curled into the smallest possible ball, with a rough blanket against her cheek. As consciousness swam back to her, she allowed herself to daydream about her soft sheets back home in New York. The thin blanket provided little warmth, and a shiver overtook her. She hunched herself closer together, her legs drawn up, dreading to throw back the covers.

I wish I were home again,
she moaned to herself. But even as the thought passed through her head, she recognized that she
was
home. The memory of loss gripped her, and she pressed her fist against her eyes as if to shut out the world. The trip had drained her of all strength. She wanted to scream, cry out, simply run somewhere—but there was no place to hide.

She heard a tiny noise, so slight she thought she might have imagined it, but then it came again. Cautiously Jenny lifted her head. The cold air struck her shoulders, and she saw that the windowpanes were frosted, emitting only pale light from the sun. There was no warmth in the meager light, and her shoulders shook with the cold. The noise continued, clearer now. Her feet were numb with cold. Several times during the night she had almost gotten up to find heavy stockings, but she had lacked the courage to face the cold floor. Now, taking a deep breath, she flung back the covers and with a gasp, almost like a swimmer entering a cold plunge into icy water, she swung her legs over, and her feet touched the bare pine floor. She leaped out of bed and skittered to the bureau,
where she had stored her few items of clothing. She yanked open the drawer and reached down to pluck out a pair of stockings, when at her feet she saw a mouse.