The Saints of Swallow Hill(47)

Del said, “Yeah, me too.”

Del glanced over his shoulder only to find Crow watching him. Crow tipped his hat, and Del had the distinct feeling he’d been up to no good.





Chapter 14


Rae Lynn


Rae Lynn and the rest of the work hands watched as the fallen woods rider was trundled away, his boots rocking back and forth as the wagon rolled along the path, giving the illusion of life still within. Crow waited until the wagon was out of sight, and then he turned to the men who stood in a semicircle. They had been talking low amongst themselves and hushed at the look on his face.

“Those who worked for Ballard, stand over there.”

Rae Lynn and a few men moved to where he pointed, hands holding hats or hands shoved in pockets. Most seemed to have trouble standing still, shuffling their feet, looking at one another or at the ground. Rae Lynn felt vulnerable, exposed without the protection of the kindly Ballard. Crow’s work hands stood nearby, waiting to see what was going to happen. Crow paced back and forth in front of Ballard’s little group, glancing at each of them, except he ignored her. Forgotten were the sweltering days of work, the insects, the hunger she’d felt only moments ago. Her heart bumped unevenly, and her mouth turned the kind of dry no amount of water would cure.

The man who went by the name of Preacher because he was always spouting off Bible phrases as he worked, leaned over and said, “Best get to praying.”

From someone else behind them came, “He got something up his sleeve.”

Crow stopped in front of Rae Lynn but didn’t face her. He spoke, randomly commenting in a thoughtful tone.

“I reckon y’all made your numbers today.”

Heads bobbed with a murmur of assent, “Oh, yessuh, sure did. Always do.”

Rae Lynn could hardly think. Her stomach rolled. This was about her. He whipped about, the move so sudden, she stumbled back a step. She quickly righted herself and crossed her arms. She made herself look him in the face.

“How about you, Cobb?”

She hadn’t, and he knew she hadn’t.

He said, “Did you make count?”

She didn’t move. Didn’t answer.

He turned to Ballard’s men. “Now, it don’t seem fair, him slacking off when the rest of you do what’s expected, day in and out. Sure don’t seem right to me.” He spread his arms, like he was giving a sermon. “Say what you want about your boss man, Ballard, but way I see it, he played favorites. Way I see it, whites, nigras, you choose to be out here, you do the work. Fair’s fair. Maybe he had him a thing for this one. Now, wouldn’t that be unseemly?”

She felt all of them staring at her now. She dared a glance at the group, saw a mix of distress or indifference. She tried to think of something, anything to help herself. Crow pointed at one of his own men, the one called Pickle who’d seen his share of trouble at the camp, thereby acquiring his name honestly.

“Pickle, what you reckon?”

Pickle raised his shoulders and said, “Can’t say it’d be right.”

Crow zeroed in on one of Ballard’s other men, Big’Un.

Crow pointed at Rae Lynn and said, “What you think?”

Big’Un had been one of the ones who’d let it be known what he thought on those early-morning and late-evening wagon rides. Under other circumstances, it could’ve gotten him into trouble because she was a white “man.” To speak against one was risky. For such an offense, one could end up dead. Rae Lynn watched him struggle for the answer he thought Crow might want.

His voice a whisper, he said, “I reckon we all got to do what we’s supposed to. Got to learn right if we don’t.”

“Why, ain’t you smart.”

Big’Un hung his head as if in an apology of sorts. Rae Lynn felt faint, and her fear over what was happening made her hot, then cold.

Crow yelled out. “Anybody else got something to say about this? Come on! We’re having us a trial here. What’s the verdict gonna be? I know for a fact your new boss man ain’t gonna do a damn thing about it.”

The men shifted as one, uncomfortable with the direction they were being taken in. All their lives they’d been schooled about the whites. Keep your head down. Don’t speak unless they talk to you. Hope and pray nobody thinks you done something you shouldn’t.

Crow was having none of it. “Come on. You don’t start talking, I’m gonna pick one of you.”

He uncoiled the whip from his belt, letting the length of it lie on the ground. They started off soft at first, until everyone was eagerly yelling something.

“He ain’t made his numbers since he been here!”

“Naw, it ain’t fair!”

“Everybody’s s’posed to do what they’s s’posed to!”

“He about grown now. Got to do a man’s work!”

Crow nodded with approval. “There you go. That’s right.”

He raised a hand, and they all hushed. Rae Lynn stood alone because Ballard’s men had quietly sidled over to stand with Crow’s group.

He tilted his head and said to her, “Only seems fair, don’t it?”

He wiggled the whip, and panic shot through Rae Lynn. She tried to speak, and couldn’t.

Crow pointed at her and said over his shoulder, “Cat got his tongue. Or is it catface got his tongue?”