The Saints of Swallow Hill(39)

Cobb called out. “Wait!”

Del kept going. The entire exchange made him uncomfortable.

Cobb yelled again, “Hey, wait!”

Del stopped and turned around.

Cobb, a little friendlier seeming, said, “I got beans and leftover cornmeal, some chicory coffee. You’re welcome to it.”

Del approached him and said, “I don’t want to put you out none.”

Cobb said, “It ain’t putting me out.”

They fell into step side by side. Cobb didn’t speak and Del felt the need to fill in the silence, but all he could think of were questions. For some reason, the smaller man’s presence put him off of what he’d always believed was his natural ability to conversate. He reached for Melody and began puffing as they walked along. Del let his music dribble to silence when Crow came from out of the cooper’s shed.

Crow said, “Well now, how about this. The two newest members making friendly with one another. Hey, what you got there, Butler. Lemme see it.”

Del didn’t want to hand Melody over to Crow, but Crow thrust his hand out, jiggling it impatiently. Reluctantly, Del laid Melody into his hand. Crow wiped the mouth piece off on his sleeve and put his own to it, blasting out a shrill note and to Del’s ears, it sounded like a wounded bird. Crow stopped, then did it again, zipping his mouth up and down while blowing hard. Melody emitted a shriek at the abuse, and Del grew more uneasy. Crow pulled the instrument from his mouth, stared at it with disgust, and tossed it on the ground.

He said, “Useless.”

When he lifted his boot to stomp it flat, Del reacted without thinking, driving both hands into the man’s shoulders and shoving him backward. He grabbed Melody, but underestimated Crow’s speed. Crow managed to catch himself and delivered a well-placed kick to Del’s ribs. The air popped out of Del like a balloon bursting, and he collapsed to the ground. He kept hold of the mouth harp as he covered his head with his other hand. Crow kicked him again, and he rolled to his side balled up, waiting for more to come.

Cobb shouted, “Stop!”

From his left, Del heard Peewee yelling, “Sweeney! What the hell’s going on? We got too much work for him to be laid out nursing his damn ribs!”

Crow said, “Good timing. This sonofabitch tried to pick a fight.”

Del tucked Melody safely in his pocket before he worked his way to his feet. His midsection hurt, so he took his time and brushed off his pants until he could straighten up. He waited on what Peewee would say, his head filled with images of a square wooden hell.

“Is what he’s saying the truth?”

Del said, “Hell no.”

Crow said, “Well, golly gee. Wonder who laid hands on who first?” Crow turned to Cobb. “You saw it. Did he shove me first or not?”

Cobb shifted his weight one foot to the other, and Del noted how his new boots still held an appealing gleam. Cobb was in a real pickle with that question, and Del braced himself for him to side with the boss man.

Cobb, his voice a little gravelly, said, “He had cause.”

Del shut his eyes. The little guy had just put himself in Crow’s crosshairs, while Crow acted as if he was astounded.

“Cause? Hell, all I did was drop it by accident, and when I went to pick it up, he shoved me. Shit. You blind?”

Cobb’s response came just as quick. “What’s it matter? Arguing over something small as a stick that makes noise. It’s dumb, ain’t it?”

To Del’s amazement and disbelief, Cobb walked off, leaving all of them slack-jawed.

Crow said, “That little sonofabitch.”

Peewee said, “He’s got a point. We got enough going on as it is.”

Crow flushed bright red, and as he stalked off, he yelled at Cobb, “Hey!”

When Cobb turned, Crow made a gesture, forefinger pointing, thumb up. A threat.

Peewee exhaled forcefully and said to Del, “Y’all got to quit lighting his fuse.”

“Hell, I think it was lit long ’fore I got here.”

Del’s side was already mighty tender, and he was sure to have a nice bruise from Crow’s boot. He did a sort of hobbling, half run until he caught up to Cobb. Neither of them spoke as they made their way to their side of the camp.

After they’d arrived at number forty-four, Cobb said, “I reckon I see what you meant by watch your back.”

“Yep. You just had your first run-in. I ain’t sure I’m ever gonna understand how somebody can want for nothing but trouble.”

Cobb said, “He ain’t trustworthy, that’s for sure.”

“Naw, he ain’t.”

Cobb said, “Well, let me get them things together.”

He opened his door, and Del stood on the threshold, waiting, and while he did, he noticed the inside was in worse shape than his, but Cobb had done something different most men wouldn’t ever think to do. He’d stuck a bunch of wildflowers in a mug and set them in the center of his small, broken-down table.





Chapter 12


Rae Lynn


After almost two weeks in the camp, she’d yet to make her daily quota.

Ballard had been kind, but on her thirteenth day there, he told her, “Got to pick it up.”

Crow, somehow conveniently close by, nagged Ballard, not only about whites working with nigras, lowering themselves, but also about her slowness. Ballard stuck up for her and while it made her uncomfortable, she was grateful.