All That Lives (53 page)

“I must go, I must,” I told him.

“Do you love me, Betsy?” He held on to my forearm as I attempted to rise.

“I do, more than you know, dear Josh. But it is complicated. I can’t forget all that has happened …” Josh drew me back into
his arms and with my ear pressed against his bare chest I heard his heart beat strong.

“It will be all right.” Josh stroked my hair and I felt safe and content, but remembered suddenly the winter night Father
had carried me up to my bed, and lay with me. He too had promised all would come out right and it most certainly had not.
I shivered, and though Josh tried to squeeze me closer, I managed to pull away and hastily depart.

Riding home, I began to worry, for I knew Mother would be wondering what had happened to me. The light was truly at its end
under the blooming elms. I had to kick Moses and trust he knew the way. When I reached the stable, Zeke was not about, but
a lantern had been lit. I did not bother to lead Moses to his stall, I was in such a hurry, and he neighed at me on my way
out, as if to say I was ungrateful and mean.

“Sorry,” I called back to him, hoping Zeke would soon return. I hastened up the hill toward the house. My undone hair was
full of twigs, clover and bits of moss, and though at first I tried to comb it with my fingers, I quickly gave up, and stuffed
it in large handfuls up inside my bonnet. I was absorbed completely in what I might say by way of explanation to Mother, and
I did not see the commotion in the yard until I was on top of it.

There at the hitching post stood two horses I did not recognize and beside them Zeke and Isiah, and up the path on the porch
steps there stood John Jr. I ran past the well and under the pear trees.

“I rode my horse near to the ground to be here today,” John Jr. called down to me and in the light of the lamp Mother held
I saw his face told the story of his journey. His cheeks were so gaunt, they looked hollow above his dark brown beard, and
he bore a new resemblance to Father. I stopped myself from running into his arms, and stood frozen at the bottom of the steps,
staring, my hair protruding in wild strands from my velvet bonnet, hoping he would not notice my coat was damp from an afternoon
on the ground.

“Good son, we have prayed for your safe journey home. And for you to arrive today on Betsy’s birthday, what a gift!” Mother
stroked his arm.

“A terrible shame you were not here when Father was laid to rest.” Drewry appeared behind Mother and though his lament was
certainly honest, there was a pinched quality to his voice.

“Oh, brother, we so desired your presence …” I ceased thinking how I might be perceived, for John Jr. standing before me was
a sight I had often wished to view. I could not contain my pleasure and I bounded up the steps, hugging him with both arms
around his waist.

“That evil Being did torment me with our father’s fate.” John Jr. squeezed his arm around my back, and I thought of Josh’s
arm so recently fingering the same place. A silence fell across the porch, for it had been some time since the Spirit had
been called the “evil being” out loud, and we had all made great efforts not to discuss Father’s murder.

I gave to your good mother all your news, John Jr.

“Speak not, you evil creature! Get back to Hell and stay there!” John Jr. raised his fist.

I would have told you more tidings had you a mind to listen.

“No upright man listens to the Devil’s voice.”

“Come in, my son, for we must sit and feed you supper. Tell us all your news, and your many adventures too.” Mother ignored
the Being, and grasping John Jr.’s arm she pulled him into the house, communicating with her eyes that many things had changed.

“Brother! Brother!” Richard and Joel careened down the stairs and attached themselves to John Jr.’s legs. I laughed, pleased
my brother’s arrival home had eclipsed all concern for where I might have been. I removed my bonnet and coat and hung them
in the hall, surreptitiously shaking my skirt for spare leaves and twigs caught in the hem. I wanted to go upstairs and tidy
my appearance, but I was afraid to draw any further attention to myself through absence.

“The good Lord blesses us today.” Chloe’s smile was tender and relieved as she laid the table, “I did wonder, chile, if you
was ever coming home.”

“I did wonder that myself, Chloe, and more than once as well,” John Jr. responded, laughing, but I noticed the line of his
jaw was serious and much aged.

Supper was the leftover meat and biscuits from my luncheon party, which did not excite my appetite, but John Jr. ate heartily,
between stories of his travels.

“Was it only squirrels and skunk you had to eat, brother?” Joel was curious regarding all the details.

“We ate plenty of squirrels, but never a skunk, and in all the countryside we never did taste a ham so sweet as Chloe’s.”
We watched him wipe his mouth with satisfaction, and all of us felt amazed and grateful to see him in his place at the table
once again. He looked around at us, smiling, but then turned abruptly serious. “Tell me, what is the state of the farm? In
the growing dark it was impossible to see.”

“For certain we shall have a crop for you to bring to market, brother, for I have planted much of it myself.” Drewry sat straight
and tall, speaking quickly.

“Drewry knows everything having to do with the slaves and the planting, John Jr.” I wished to support Drew, but he shot me
such a withering glance I wished I had kept quiet.

“Everything?” John Jr. took a teasing tone, and used a knife to pare the ham off the bone on his plate. “How is Little Bright
these days?” At first I thought John Jr. was sincerely asking Chloe, but then I realized she was in the kitchen, and he had
not meant the question for her. Mother let her fork drop on her china plate.

“John Jr. Bell!”

I knew immediately what he meant, though I had not been thinking of it. I was horrified to realize Little Bright had been
taken advantage of by Drewry, and if John Jr. knew so much about it, he might have taken similar liberties himself. But how
could he speak of it at the table with Mother present?

“My most sincere apologies, Mother, though Drewry is of age for it. My long days away were spent in company much more coarse
than this fine family.” He stopped eating and clasped his hands together, pretending prayer. Mother sighed but the corners
of her mouth turned in a half-smile, to say he was forgiven. I believe she was simply hypnotized into agreeability by seeing
his face.

“Still Drewry is a young buck now.” John Jr. could not quit and mocked him further. I expected Mother to slap him, but before
she could speak Joel looked up from his plate, smiling.

“Of age for what, John Jr.?”

“Of age for what you be far away from!” He laughed deeply, but Mother interrupted his pleasure.

“John Jr., I know you have seen and suffered a great deal in your travels, but we have seen and suffered much at home as well.
Do not be base and licentious at your father’s table.” Mother summoned harsh words to end the discussion, but I could tell
she was not as upset as she pretended, and I knew it was true, Drewry had been with Little Bright. I looked at him, blushing
a dark red under his early tan.

“I see the weather on your face, dear brother.” John Jr. also noticed.

“Yea, for I have worked the fields a plenty in your absence.” Drewry looked him in the eye, and John Jr. nodded, an understanding
made.

“Tomorrow we shall take pleasure working them together.”

“You will find it better than you left it, for our slaves are in excellent humor. Mother provided them with shoes at Father’s
passing.”

“There was snow several feet deep …” Mother spoke softly, remembering, and we were silent a moment.

“I could not eat a mouthful more, my belly will pop my trouser buttons.” John Jr. pushed his chair back, and I watched him
stand and stretch his lean form.

“Let us move to the parlor, and read a passage.” Mother got slowly to her feet and Joel and Richard quickly followed her.

“How could you?” I whispered to Drewry, left alone at the table with him. “And you could have told me.” I was annoyed.

“It was not the way he makes it out, Betsy, and you have enough to think on with your own affairs. There is no need to trouble
yourself with mine.”

Chloe came from the kitchen to clear away the plates and I felt she was careful not to look at either Drewry or myself. I
wondered with some anxiety what he meant by my affairs. Did he suspect what I had done with Josh? I did not wish to discuss
it further and thankfully neither did he. We both stood quickly and adjourned to the parlor, leaving Chloe to clean up alone.

John Jr. was standing silently before Father’s chair with his eyes cast downward.

“Take it for your own,” Mother sighed, collapsing into her chair, opposite. “Your father would want you to, were he here with
us tonight.”

“I can never be happy in my life again when every day I feel the horror of my father’s murder.” John Jr. turned from the chair
to the fire, and withdrawing a dull pewter flask none of us had ever seen before from his shirt pocket, he took a long drink.
I thought truly, he was his father’s son.

“You must be your best self in the face of adversity, John Jr.,” Mother said, her eyes filling with tears as she looked up
to him. “I know you are capable of great strength and tolerance, for the Spirit has praised those qualities in you in every
report given over to me during the many months you have been absent from your home.” She wiped at her eyes with the back of
her hand and the rest of us were quiet. My back was itchy where my dress had been damp and was now stuck to my skin. I squirmed
in my chair, unhappy John Jr.’s presence required all of us to relive Father’s passing.

“He will never know any of the good things I may possibly do!” John Jr. turned to look at Mother and I saw that his eyes,
already widened with the drink, contained a flash of youthful anger.

If your father could speak he would assure you, you do satisfy.

“If my father could speak he would still be alive, and not murdered by you, evil demon!”

You know nothing. I could imitate his voice exactly and compose his words so you might never know it wasn’t him that spoke,
but it is not my purpose to deceive you.

“You have no purpose, Spirit of the damned!”

You know nothing of my purpose.

“Pray do not argue further. This house has seen enough malevolence.” Mother held her hand up to John Jr. imploring him to
stop and cause no conflict. I hoped he would recognize how weak she had recently been, and respect her request. He frowned
and was silent.

People who have gone on and left their bodies do not in this era talk to those left behind, John Jr. Bell. They will not in
the future either. There is enough talking going on in the world today without the souls of thousands of years past having
a say.

I laughed at this, for I could not help it. The idea of a million dead departed chatting away, filling the everyday air with
their ancient concerns, struck me as humorous. Mother smiled also, appearing relieved I had broken the tension, but John Jr.
was not amused. He lifted the heavy poker and jabbed at the logs in the fire Drewry had made, sending sparks up the chimney.

“Your true nature is evil, and I know it is so.” John Jr. spoke softly toward the grate.

My true nature, you will never know, as you knew not your father’s.

“My father’s nature was beyond your comprehension,” John Jr. objected.

The Spirit laughed, at once condescending and mean.

What I could tell you of Jack’s true nature. Instead let us talk of how I returned your mother to the land of the living,
and nursed her with gifts from the tropics.

The Spirit was most concerned its kindnesses were emphasized to my brother, and Mother sighed, obliging it briefly like a
willful child she wished would learn a lesson in manners.

“ ’Tis true, John Jr., as the Being relates. For certain you have heard of my illness and recovery? The Spirit told me my
messages to you were delivered.”

“Mother, have you
faith
in a murderous demon?” John Jr. was incredulous, his opinion of the Being solidly formed. I could see abhorrence spreading
in a dark blush across his features, as though we betrayed Father’s memory with our tolerance for it.

“My faith is in God, son, for He inhabits all things.” Mother reached for his hand. “Even the many we do not understand.”
I watched them sit, silently holding hands for several moments until John Jr.’s countenance revealed he had grown calmer.

Chloe brought in the tea tray along with the remains of my caramel cake. She set it on the table, and nervously I jumped up
to do the pouring, anxious to change the mood. For the first time, I felt Mother’s eyes on my back, appraising the twigs stuck
in my hair, and I wondered, what did she see? Was there a mark of dampness on the back of my dress? Would she think to wonder
why? The teacup I held rattled in the saucer when I turned to deliver it, and I saw her frown.