When Johnny Came Marching Home (36 page)

"So you followed him."

"After a spell. I went on home first but the more I stewed on it the madder I got, an' I decided that I was gonna travel up cheer an' git what was comin' ta me."

"And now you will," I said.

"Will what?"

"Get what's coming to you."

"Now jus' you wait a damn minute. I'm sayin' I'll share it with ya. The part that was supposed ta be Johnny's is all yers. All ya gotta do is let me take mine. Soon as I got it I'll hightail it outta here an' you'll never see my sorry self agin."

"But you don't know where the money is," I said. "If you did you'd already have taken it and run off."

"Tha's right, I don't know where it is. But you do. Johnny tol' me that hisself. He said the money was hidden in a place that you an' him an' Abel built when you was kids. I figgered it was some kinda clubhouse, or tree house, or somethin', an' I thought maybe he tol' that bitch that runs the store, the one he was givin' it to ever' time her husband looked t'other way. But if she knowed, I couldn't git her ta talk. I knew Johnny was gonna run her off, an' I figgered I'd wait a spell, then threaten ta tell her husband 'bout her an' Johnny if she din' fess up an' tell me what she knowed." His face suddenly soured. "But first I was gonna grab Johnny an' tie him up an' do a little persuadin' wit my knife ta git him ta tell me hisself, but I never got the chance. So I was jus' bidin' my time, waitin' ta go back ta that store lady."

"And now you figure you'll take me on as a partner."

He shrugged. "Money's money, an' we all kin sure use a nice little pile of it."

"But if I know where it is, why should I share it with you?"

He smiled at me. "Cause as soon as ya lock me up in that sheriff's jail, I'm gonna start off talkin' 'bout the pile a money Johnny came home with, an' how ya know half of it's mine, an' how ya got me locked up so's ya kin steal it fer yerself."

"What makes you think I want your damned money?"

"Shit, what man don' wanna big pile a money."

"Then why don't I just shoot you and go and get it?"

He showed me his yellow teeth again. "Cause you ain't no killer, Jubal. Oh, ya killed yerself plenty, but only cause ya had ta. The war taught some that killin' was killin' no matter what the reason. An' it taught us that killin' wasn't all that bad, that it was even good if it kept ya alive, an' better still if it could put somethin' in yer pockets. Johnny, he learned that real quick."

At that moment Josiah rode up to the bunkhouse with Bobby's horse trailing behind his own. He tied them up and came inside, rifle in hand, Suggs's saddlebags in his free hand.

"You find his pistol?" I asked.

He opened the saddlebag and withdrew a Navy Colt. I took it and stuck it in my belt. "Give him the saddlebags. He should be able to fit all his stuff in there and the carpetbag that's under his bunk."

Josiah walked over to the bunk and pulled out the carpetbag. "I better check this," he said. "Just ta make sure he ain't got another weapon stashed inside."

I watched him rummage through the bag until he finally pulled out a second knife. He stuck that one in his belt.

"All right, Suggs, pack on up and we'll head back to town," I said.

"Ya gonna arress' me or not," he demanded.

"We'll talk that over when we get there."

Suggs grinned at me.

"Hurry up," I snapped.

I went out on the porch with Josiah, took him aside, and spoke to him quietly.

"Tha's whatcha want?" he asked.

"That's what I want."

 

* * *

 

We rode on into town with my horse on Suggs's right and Josiah one length behind, his rifle lying across his lap. Suggs glanced back at him occasionally, but otherwise paid him little mind, certain I would let nothing happen to him until I had located the money.

When we got back to my house I put up Jezebel and tied Suggs's horse to a post. Then I thanked Josiah for his time and took Suggs inside. "You figgered out where the money is?" he asked as he dropped into a kitchen chair.

"I know where it is," I said. "It's several hundred yards up the ridge that runs behind the church. When we were kids we built a hunting blind up there, a very elaborate one made of large rocks and heavy timber, built to survive our winters. It's still there to this day."

"Well, why don't we go on up there an' git it," he said. "The sooner I'm outta this place the better I'll like it." He let out a soft laugh. "'Specially if I leave with my poke full a greenbacks."

"And the happier I'll be to see you gone," I said.

 

* * *

 

I stayed behind Suggs as we climbed the ridge, forcing him to speak to me over his shoulder. He was carrying the shovel I'd given him and I wanted to stay well out of its reach.

"Whatcha gonna do wit yer share?" he asked when we were halfway up the ridge. "I hear yer marryin' Abel's sister, that pretty lil' gal over ta the store. Oughtta have enough ta build her a nice house an' fix her up wit a fancy buggy. Them ladies sure do like a fancy buggy."

"What do you care what I do with the money, Suggs?"

"Jus' curious, tha's all. Me, I'm gonna head west, maybe find me a town that needs itself a nice saloon. Always thought I'd make a good biznessman, an' sellin' whiskey don't seem like a hard way ta make a livin'. Maybe put a few whores upstairs ta keep the customers happy." He let out a cackle. "Keep me happy too."

We reached the level area on the ridge where the blind stood. Suggs stopped and let his eyes roam the various outcroppings as if he were checking the area for wildlife. "Ya git many deer offen this ridge?" he asked.

"Some years yes; some years no. There's a stream up ahead that they water at, and there are two runways that they follow to move up and down the ridge. If you didn't give yourself away you had a chance."

"Sounds pretty much like a turkey shoot."

"You ever hunt deer, Suggs?"

"Naw. Never wanted ta freeze my ass off jus' fer a bit a meat."

"I didn't think so."

"Why's 'at?"

"Because deer hunting is never a turkey shoot," I said. "No matter how hard you scout them, no matter how smart you think you are, most days they leave you talking to yourself."

We walked to the blind and I circled it slowly. Fallen leaves had left a thick carpet on all sides and I directed Suggs to clear them away.

"Find a place that somebody's put a spade to in the last few months and start digging there," I said.

When all the leaves were removed we located an area near a large rock where the earth had been disturbed. Suggs started digging and when he was two feet down he hit something solid.

"Sounds like Johnny put the money in a new box," he said as he began to clear the area around a bit of black metal that showed through the dirt. Within five minutes he had uncovered a square metal box and pulled it free. There was no lock and he yanked back the lid and exposed a dozen stacks of currency. "Hallelujah!" he called out. "Bobby gives, Johnny takes it away, and then Bobby comes along and grabs it all back agin. It's almos' like readin' the Bible, ain't it?"

I placed my hand on the butt of my Colt. "Step back from the box," I said.

"What the hell ya mean? I jus' want my half an' I'll be headed on down this here ridge an' on my way west."

"I don't think so," I said. "I think you've got a date with a six-foot drop at the end of a rope."

Bobby stared at me, eyes wide and wild. "Ya think it's yers. Ya think yer gonna take it all fer yerself. I tol' ya, I din' kill Johnny Harris an' I ain't gonna hang fer it."

"I told you once, Suggs. I don't care if you killed Johnny or not. You killed Abel, you and Johnny both, just as sure as if you'd fired that howitzer shell yourselves. And you killed the people this money belonged to. You shot them down in cold blood and Johnny helped you do it. I tried to get the army to make you both pay for those murders, but the politics of it didn't fit their plan. Now Johnny's paid for what he did. And I don't care who killed him. He got just what he deserved, and it doesn't matter a good goddamn who the executioner was, just like it doesn't matter whether you swing for Johnny's murder or stand in front of a firing squad for killing Abel and those people in Spotsylvania County. Either way the books will be cleared."

I reached for my pistol and Suggs let out a roar and leaped forward, catching me off-guard as he swung the shovel in a wide arc. The shovel hit me on the shoulder and then glanced off the side of my head and I fell backward, stunned, my Colt only halfway out of its holster. Suggs reached down and snatched it from my hand, stood over me, and pulled the hammer back.

He started to laugh. "Well, ain't this nice. So all I gotta do is put one right through yer head, and then dig me a nice new grave."

I stared up at him as he raised my Colt, then watched as a hole the size of a small fist appeared in his throat, followed by the sound of the shot. Bobby's hands went to his ruined throat as blood gushed from the wound. He tried to level the Colt again, his hand waving back and forth. Then a second exit wound appeared in his chest and he pitched forward and fell facedown in the bed of leaves to my right.

I struggled to my feet, still dizzy, and looked down at the wounds in the center of Suggs's back and his neck. Then I glanced at the ridge and saw Josiah making his way down.

"You okay, Jubal?"

"I'm fine. Better since I thought to put you up on that ridge."

"Jus' like deer season," he said. "'Cept this time we was huntin' skunk."

I picked up the money box and held it out to him. "This is what it was all about," I said.

"Whatcha gonna do with it?"

"Next spring, right after Rebecca and I get married, I'm going to take her to Virginia to visit Abel's grave. While I'm there I'll find the relatives of the people Suggs and Johnny killed. I figure it's their money." I extended the box toward him again. "I don't think they'll miss it if you take some for yourself," I said. "Sort of a reparation payment for Jemma and Alva."

Josiah thought that over and shook his head. "It's bad money," he said. "It ain't no good ta start a life on bad money."

"You're a wise man, Josiah." I looked down at Bobby Suggs. "Let's go get Doc Pierce, so he can pronounce this son of a bitch dead."

Epilogue

Chancellorsville, Virginia, 1866

Rebecca knelt before Abel's grave and wept.

It was a beautiful spring day, the skies clear and blue, birds flying from tree to tree, a gentle breeze blowing across the hilltop, brushing against our faces like the fingers of angels.

I gazed out across the valley. It was hard to believe that men had fought here, slaughtering each other by the thousands; that cities and villages had been destroyed, burned to the ground; that people's lives and fortunes had been lost in numbers too vast to even imagine, and all over questions the answers to which now seemed so obvious.

Newspapers both North and South had called it a grand and glorious struggle—a
good war
that had to be fought. As I watched Rebecca's shoulders heave in sorrow I knew those newspapers were wrong, and as I looked down at Abel's grave I understood that this
good war
had to some degree destroyed us all. Three boys grew up in our beautiful, peaceful village, and then they marched off to war. Four years later, one came back a cripple, one came back a monster, and one did not come back at all.

Rebecca stood and wiped away her tears. "Thank you for bringing me here, Jubal. You're a good husband and a good friend."

I slipped my arm around her and drew her to my chest. "I hope Abel is someplace where he can see us standing here," I said. "It would greatly please him to know how much he was loved."

A sudden breeze brushed against us, and I took it as a sign that my old friend had heard me.

Rebecca glanced up at me and smiled. "Are we going to that farmhouse now?" she asked.

I turned to Johnny's black metal box that now sat on the seat of our buggy. "Yes," I said. "We're going there now."

 

The End

 

Bonus Materials

When Johnny Came Marching Home
Reading Group Guide

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1. William Heffernan often uses dialect when writing out the dialogue between characters. What does this do for the story? How might it have been different if he had only used standard English?

 

2. The novel jumps back and forth in time between postwar in Jerusalem's Landing and various moments during the war. What is the purpose of this? How did this technique create suspense and foreshadow major events? How might a reader's experience and understanding of the characters differ if the story was told chronologically?

 

3. Rebecca tries to convince Jubal that his missing arm does not change her feelings for him. How does she do this? Does Jubal ever believe her? How does Jubal's arm affect his behavior and relationship with Rebecca? How is this different from his behavior toward her before the war?

 

4. How are Jubal, Abel, and Johnny compared and contrasted with their fathers throughout the novel?

 

5. The story is told from Jubal's first-person point of view. How would it have been different if the author had written the novel in third person? Do you think it would have been better or worse this way? Why?

 

6. How does race impact the soldiers' interactions with each other? How is this similar or different from how it affects life in Jerusalem's Landing? How do Jubal's views differ from his fellow soldiers and townspeople?

 

7. On page 127, Jubal indicates that his upbringing is responsible for shaping his beliefs. How do Johnny and Abel act in accordance to their upbringing? How do they act contradictory to it?

 

8. When does Johnny's loyalty to his friends begin to shift? What are some signs of this?

 

9. On page 194, Johnny takes note of Union soldiers stealing from a store and asks the other men, “Why in hell are we jus' standin' here?” How is this an example of hypocrisy? Can you think of other examples where Johnny has said and done things that contradict each other? What does this tell you about Johnny's character?