Before We Were Yours(21)

Camellia catches sight of the black. It’s somebody coming, for sure, but instead of going in the door, Camellia slips around toward the other side of the boat. “I’ll sneak off the back and check who it is.”

“No,” I hiss, but the truth is I’m not sure what to do. I want to toss off the lines, and push the Arcadia out of the sand, and take to the river. The water’s still and calm this morning, so it’d be easy for us to put her out, except I wouldn’t dare try it. With nobody but Camellia and me and maybe Silas to keep the Arcadia from hitting a bar or getting plowed through by a barge or a paddle-wheeler, there’s no telling what could happen to us on the river.

“Let’s get inside,” I say. “Maybe he’ll think the boat’s empty and move on about his business.” But who’d have business down this little backwater where there’s nothing around?

“Maybe it’s just somebody out squirrelin’,” Camellia says hopefully. “Maybe he’d give us one for dinner if we’re nice.” She knows how to be sweet when she wants to, when somebody’s got sugar candy to hand out or fry cakes to share around a campfire.

“Zede told us to keep quiet. And Briny’d tan us good if he found out.” Briny’s never tanned any one of us, but he threatens it sometimes. The idea worries Camellia enough that she hurries across the porch with me, and we go inside.

We bar the doors and climb up in the big bed and pull the curtain and wait and listen. I think I can hear the man walking onshore. Then I think he must’ve left. Maybe he was just a hunter or a hobo—

“Hallooo, the boat!”

“S-s-shhhh.” My voice trembles. Wide, worried eyes turn my way. You grow up on the river, you know to be mindful of strangers. The river’s a place men take to sometimes when they’re running from the bad things they done someplace else.

Camellia leans close. “That ain’t Zede.” Her whisper ruffles the fine hairs on my neck.

The hull rocks a little. Someone’s trying the plank.

Lark scoots close, and Fern crawls into my lap, her cheek pushing against my heart.

The Arcadia sways toward shore, tipped by the man’s full weight. He’s big. Whoever he is, Silas isn’t any match for him.

I push a finger to my lips. The five of us freeze the way fawns do when the doe leaves them behind so she can go feed.

The man is on the porch now.

“Halloo, the boat!” he says again.

Go away….There’s nobody here.

He tries the door, the handle turning slowly. “?’Loo, in the boat?” The door hits the bar and can’t go farther.

A shadow hovers in the square of window light on the shanty floor. A man’s head, the outline of a hat. There’s a stick or a bat in his hand. He taps it against the glass.

A policeman? I’m afraid it is. The police come after shantyboat folk when they feel like it. They raid the camps, rough up the river rats, take what they want, send us on our way. That’s one reason we always tie up by ourselves unless Briny’s got some particular need for other people.

“I help you, Officer?” Silas’s voice stops the stranger as he crosses to the other window to look in. Their shadows stretch along the floor together, one a head longer than the other.

“You live here, son?”

“Nope. I’z just out huntin’. My daddy’s over yander a ways.”

“Some children live here?” The voice isn’t hateful, but it means business. What if Silas gets himself arrested for lying?

“Don’t reckon I know. I just now seen the place.”

“That so, is it? Think you might be handing me a fib there, little river rat? I heard you talking to somebody on this boat.”

“No, sir.” Silas sounds sure as sunrise. “I seen these people go off in a skiff…oh…couple hours ago maybe. Must’ve been somebody down in the river camp you’z hearin’ just now. Sound goes a long ways on the river.”

The man takes a quick step toward Silas. “Don’t tell me about the river, sonny boy. This is my river, and I been hunting these kids half the mornin’ on it. You get them to come out, so I can take them into town to their mama and daddy.” When Silas doesn’t answer, the officer bends close, their shadows connecting at the face. “Sonny boy, I’d sure hate to see you land yourself in trouble with the law. How’d you get that shiner on your eye anyhow? You been into somethin’ you shouldn’t be? You got folks lookin’ after you, or you a stray?”

“My Uncle Zede. He looks after me.”

“I thought you said you came out here hunting with your daddy.”

“Him too.”

“You lie to a policeman, you’ll find yourself in jail, river rat.”

“I ain’t lyin’.”

I hear other voices nearby now. Men yelling in the woods and a dog barking.

“Tell the kids to come on out. Their mama and daddy sent us after them.”

“What’s their daddy’s name, then?”

Camellia and me look at each other. Her eyes are big as walnuts. She shakes her head. She’s thinking the same thing I am: Briny wouldn’t send the police here, and if he did send them, they would’ve known right where to find the boat.

What does this man want with us?