Neal Barrett Jr. (10 page)

CHAPTER NINE

I
t was nearly ten o’clock when Howie found his way to the hotel dining room. The waiter seemed to disapprove; he led Howie to a table at the far end of the room, though the place was almost empty. Howie asked for two orders of pancakes and syrup. The waiter raised a brow at that, but Howie stared him down.

Sunlight blazed through the large windows. The awful brightness stabbed at Howie’s head. He couldn’t recall when he’d slept so late before. He knew it had been very close to dawn when he’d finally dozed off, sitting in his chair. At least the dreams had left him alone for the night, and he was grateful for that.

The first order of pancakes were gone and he was wolfing down the second when Lorene walked into the room. Howie spotted her at once, and lowered his fork to the plate. Oh Lord, she looked fine! Her eyes were bright and cornflower-blue, and the sun made burnished copper lights in her hair. Her gown was plain and simple, white with no frills. A broad blue sunhat framed her face.

“Well, good
morning,
” Lorene said cheerily, and slipped into a chair. “Now, you just keep on eating, don’t bother gettin’ up. My heavens, you are certainly a sleepy-head, I’ll say that.” The smile behind her little scold said she meant no harm at all.

“I guess I am,” Howie said. “Didn’t sleep too good.”

“Oh, I’m sol I y to hear that.” Lorene cocked her head and brushed hair off her brow. The light caught the bones of her cheeks and the soft pale curve of her lips. “Coming into a place you haven’t been and all. That’ll upset a person some.”

“I reckon that’s it. You, uh—seen Mr. Jones anywhere?”

“For a minute, that’s all,” Lorene said. “He’s in one of those
meetings—likely
be tied up all day.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “That poor man. There is always something, you can bet. I try to take what burdens I can, but you
cannot
make him stop. Listen now, you have anything important you have to do? If you do, why you just say. I thought you might like to walk around the town.”

“Why, I don’t have a thing in mind,” Howie said, trying to keep from leaping out of his chair. “That’d be real fine.”

Did he have something
important
to do? Lord God, not unless war struck Alabama Port!

“Well, that is just delightful,” Lorene said. “Now you just finish up your breakfast.”

“Oh, I’m all done,” Howie said, pushing a full plate of pancakes aside. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”

A
labama Port seemed far less inviting than it had the night before. Darkness had masked the town’s permanent coat of grime, the drift of odorous litter in the streets. Howie didn’t care. He wasn’t interested in scenery at all—not with Lorene by his side. It was clear that every other man in town was aware of her beauty as well. Merchants and troopers turned to stare. Howie gave them all fierce looks and swelled with pride.

If Lorene thought he’d looked her over far too boldly the night before, she gave no indication of it now. She was obviously pleased that he was there, and linked her arm in Howie’s as if they’d known each other sometime. Her smile and open manner set Howie at ease. She pointed out buildings of note, the courthouse and the square, and, with a shudder of distaste, a famous hanging tree.

At last she led him down to the water, telling him with a sly little smile that she had saved this for the last, that Jones had told her this was what he wanted to see.

Howie marveled at the crowded levee, the maze of boxes and kegs, the dockside mixture of smells—the clean odor of new, stacked lumber, the dry scent of fat sacks of grain. There were smells he’d never known before, as well—coils of tarred rope, tattered canvas left to mold in the flats.

“If this ain’t something,” Howie said. “I didn’t even know there was that many ships in the world.”

“Oh, there are a
lot
more than that,” Lorene teased. “You ought to see the docks in California. Ships from as far as China and the Japans come in there.”

Howie looked puzzled. “Where’s that?”

“Way across the Pacific. And the ships that come from there have chimneys. The sails are all different colors instead of white.”

Howie shook his head in wonder. “I never heard of any such thing. Chimneys on a boat. Why they want to do that?”

Lorene shrugged off the question with a sigh. “Goodness, I wouldn’t know. They just
do
. I’ve seen it lots of times.”

Howie didn’t care. If that’s what they did in California, then they did. He looked at the tangled forest of masts, the clean wooden hulls. He couldn’t imagine how anything could be more exciting than that. He wished there were some way to stand on one—just for a minute. Jones had said he might manage that, but Howie wasn’t about to tell Lorene.

Lorene pointed out in the bay, and Howie thrilled at the sight of a schooner underway, its white sails swollen with the wind. It seemed to fair race across the waves.

The girl gripped his arm then, and leaned in close to his side. “I’ll be heading that very same direction ’fore long,” she said. “I guess I shouldn’t feel this way, ’cause there’s God’s work to do everywhere, but I won’t be sorry to leave. I’ve just got to say that.”

Howie looked at her, startled by her words. “You’re leaving? On a ship?”

“Oh, yes. Real soon.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back home, Cory. Back to California and High Sequoia. Brother Jones is going back, and I’m bound to go, too. I follow where my vows take me next. And of course I’ll be awful glad to get back home.”

Howie’s heart sank. He hardly knew this girl, but he didn’t want to think of her gone. “Yeah, well, I reckon it’s always good to get back. That’s a natural thing to feel.”

Lorene seemed to catch something in his words. She looked up at him with a gentle, almost sorrowful smile. “I’m real glad I’m getting this chance to talk to you some ’fore I go. Brother Jones has a lot of fine things to say about you, Cory. He says you’re—kind of a special person. That the Lord’s clearly favored you with His Light.”

“Uh, I don’t know nothing about that. Howie turned quickly to the bay. Talk like that made him feel awful funny inside. The thoughts in his head right then didn’t have much to do with God’s Light, or even anything close.

“It’s true, you know,” Lorene said earnestly. “If Brother Jones says it, you can sure believe it’s so.” She held his arm tightly, and Howie was surprised to see tears fill her eyes. “Oh, I wish you could just
see
High Sequoia. The kind of things we’re doing there. New ways to make life better. Things nobody’s dreamed about before, or not in a real long time. And peace—that’s the most important thing of all. This whole country’s full of sin and privation, men fightin’ and kiln’ one another, everyone going without food. And Cory, Lawrence is
doing
something about that. He truly is. Nobody ever thought it could happen, but it’s so. He’s bringing Rebels and Loyalists together. Asking them to sit down beside one another and work things out. It’s going to happen, too. The Lord’s put His hand on Lawrence, and there’s going to be peace in the land. You wait and see.

“If he can do that, it’ll sure be something,” Howie said. “Yes, sir, it sure will,”

Lorene was looking right at him; she caught his expression and the doubt in his voice. She stopped, and firmly took both his hands in hers.

“I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do,” she said evenly. “I know what you’ve been through, Cory. I don’t know exactly, but I can tell by how you talk, the look that comes over you now and then.” She paused, and seemed to come to some decision, “You mind me asking? About your eye? What happened to you?”

Howie tried to recall what he’d told Captain Ricks. It seemed like a good idea to keep telling the same thing.

“A shot from a cannon hit our bunch real close. I got a piece of hot iron.”

“Oh, how
awful
for you.” Lorene closed her eyes and took a breath. “I’m so sorry, Cory.”

I got off alive.” Howie shrugged. “A lot of the boys with me weren’t all that lucky.”

“I pray for
all
this nation’s soldiers,” Lorene said. “Whatever side they’re fighting for. I thing they’re both wrong. Killing is an evil thing to do, and it doesn’t matter which flag an army flies if that banner’s dipped in blood.”

“I don’t guess I can argue much with that,” Howie said. The girl made a lot of sense, he decided. More than she guessed, most likely. The things he had seen in the West made it plain enough that greed played a bigger part in the war than the slogans people shouted back home. Hell, you could see the truth of that right here. In Alabama Port. The way goods were pouring in and out and not a lot getting close to the troopers in the field or the folks starving out on the farms.

“Cory?”

Lorene cut through his thoughts. Howie saw a curious expression on her face. “I’m sorry, you say something?”

“You might—think this is a peculiar thing to say, I mean, seeing what I am,” Lorene said. “But I guess I got to say it anyway. Have you got a weapon on you? Right now?”

Howie was startled. “Well, yeah. I sure do.”

“Good.” Lorene set her chin in a firm, determined manner. “
Keep
it with you, then. All the time you’re in Alabama Port. I just hate weapons of every sort, but this is an awful place to be. Brother Jones says it’s right to go armed if your heart’s with the Lord. Especially in times such as these.”

“Thanks,” Howie said solemnly, trying to hide a smile. “That’s real sound advice.”

And especially if you happen to be a dead shot like Brother Jones, Howie thought. A man who felt bad if he didn’t hit a man between the eyes. He wondered if the preacher had told Lorene about their encounter in the woods. Likely not. It wasn’t the kind of thing he’d want this girl to hear.

L
orene led Howie past the docks and back west. Only a few short blocks from the center of town, the surroundings suddenly changed. Buildings and storefronts gave way to quiet streets, small frame homes set back among sycamore and oak. Lorene stopped before a narrow two-story house covered with green trumpet vines and fiery orange blooms.

“I hope you don’t mind walking me home,” she told Howie. “Especially since I didn’t even ask. Brother Jones doesn’t like us out alone. Even in the broad light of day.

“I’m more’n glad to do it,” Howie said. He looked at the house with some surprise. “You live here? I kinda thought—”

“That I’d be at the hotel?” Lorene tossed her head and laughed. “Oh, my heavens no. Brother Jones would
never
allow that. Sister Amelia and I board here with Miz Laintree. She’s one of the faithful and awful nice. Come on, you’ve seen me this far, might as well take me all the way.”

Howie started for the front gate, but Lorene took his hand and led him past the house to a line of trees and shrubs along the side. Farther on, a door and a shaded porch appeared, and Lorene slipped a key in the door and walked in. Howie hesitated.

“Don’t stand out there,” Lorene said, stifling a laugh with her hand. “Just be
real
quiet. Miz Laintree stays up front and doesn’t hear real well, but she likely wouldn’t approve.”

“If you’re sure it’s all right,” Howie said. He peeked cautiously inside, then stepped past the door. The room was quite small; the wooden floor was scrubbed clean and there was a window with pale blue curtains. A cane chair that had seen better days, and a table with a lamp. One corner of the room held a bed; the other was partially curtained off, and Howie saw dishes and plates and a pantry for food.

“It’s not a whole lot,” Lorene said. “But it’s just right for me and Sister Amelia.”

“And where’s she?” Howie asked.

“Over at the chapel, I imagine.” Lorene took off her sunhat and fluffed up her hair. “Where
I’m
supposed to be, for a fact.” She grinned shyly at Howie. “Only really, there simply isn’t all that much to do. You know? We’ve got a few believers, praise God, but not as many as we’d like. Now you just sit right down and I’ll make us up some tea.”

Howie sat. Lorene busied herself with kindling at a little iron stove. She hummed to herself while she worked. Howie watched, taking in her every move. He couldn’t believe he was here, right in Lorene’s very room. Not that it made any difference, but he was.

He suddenly recalled he’d gotten up that morning determined to tell Jones he was leaving town at once. Well, there was plenty of time for that, Howie reasoned. A man who didn’t know where he was going didn’t need to hurry off.

Lord, she was a beauty! Every time he looked at Lorene he wanted to cry. And he was certain that she didn’t even know, didn’t have the slightest idea how she looked, what she did to a man. By God, his luck was running true. Alabama Port was plain full of girls raised on sin— and he had to find the only one in town likely pure as new snow!

“There now.” Lorene set cups on the table, found a straight chair by the wall, and placed it across from Howie.

“I hope the tea’s all right. I’ve got a little bit of sugar if you want.”

“No, this is just fine.” Howie took a sip and burned his mouth. He quickly set the cup down.

Lorene didn’t seem to notice. “You haven’t told me where you’re from. All right if I ask?”

“Up north of here and east,” Howie said. “Arkansas Territory.” It wasn’t much of a lie; Tennessee was just a border away from Arkansas. Still, he felt bad about deceiving Lorene.

“You live in a town?”

“No, we was out on a farm.”

“Oh, now how about that?” Lorene brightened. come from a farm too, Cory. Up in the Dakotas.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Your folks still there?”

“They—they both passed on,” Howie said. “A few years back.”

Lorene looked pained. “I’m awful sorry ’bout that.” She reached out to touch his hand. “A person’s kin are ’bout the most important thing a— Oh,
Lord!
”

Lorene’s hand hit Howie’s cup and tipped it right into her lap. The cup hit the floor and shattered; Lorene jumped up, wiping frantically at her skirt.