The Saints of Swallow Hill(74)

Crow’s voice dropped so low, Del almost couldn’t hear him. “You mark my words. Before long, every damn nigra’s gonna think he can do the same thing if you let’em think they can get away with it.”

Del said, “Funny. Ain’t nobody under me took off yet. I reckon if you hadn’t told him he had to come work for you again, he’d still be here. I’d bet on it.”

Everyone looked to Peewee. He stared at the spot where Nolan had disappeared. After a minute or two, he let out a heavy sigh, apparently having come to a decision.

He said, “Woodall?”

“Yeah, boss.”

“Got your hounds?”

“I do.”

“Go on and turn’em loose.”

Del turned away, wishing he’d never come here.





Chapter 26


Rae Lynn


Though no one said a word about it, the distant baying of the hounds in the swamp told the camp someone was being hunted. General activities could typically be heard throughout any given day, but all sounds of living had stopped as the echoes of yelping from enthusiastic hounds hung in the air. There wasn’t one note of singing while women hung out the wash, no chatting over fences, no children shouting in play, not one chant of the alphabet from the schoolroom; silent were the swishing of brooms in yards and absent were the fragrant smells from cook pots. Chickens clucked and pigs rooted, but otherwise, the camp had quietly died, its lifeblood withdrawing, the same way blood withdraws to the center of the body when dying.

Rae Lynn and Cornelia heard from Otis, who heard from Weasel at the distillery, who heard from somebody in the camp it was Nolan Brown, or Long Gone, as his call name went. The dogs continued to bay, and random, periodic shouts of encouragement to them from Woodall or Crow could be heard throughout the morning and on into the sultry afternoon. Rae Lynn and Cornelia worked at putting the dry goods onto shelves Otis brought back the day before, then set about canning peaches, their faces reddened and damp as they hovered over steaming pots of water. They remained occupied, but not much was said between them. Every once in a while Cornelia went to the small window at the front of the house to look out and listen.

She would return to the kitchen and say, “They’re still after him,” or “Them dogs is louder, must be closer this a way.”

Otis whistled and seemed almost cheery, while the sky reflected Rae Lynn’s mood. For the first time in a while, heavy clouds hung over them, draped low, and dark and more ominous to the west. Occasionally she searched for any sign of the woods riders and the dogs to come into sight. She didn’t know why she felt such dread in the pit of her stomach, but it likely had everything to do with what Cornelia had told her.

“If they catch him, it’s gonna be almost like sport what they’ll do. To set an example, is what they get told, if they can hear anybody by that point.”

Rae Lynn’s concern deepened. She reckoned she’d been sheltered somewhat against this difference between people, what with immediately marrying Warren straight out of the orphanage before she’d seen the true ways of the world. She reckoned she was na?ve. She was certain she was about to witness something that would stay with her all the rest of her born days. Cornelia bent close so Otis couldn’t hear her.

She said, “If he’s caught, they’ll bring him in with a rope tied from his neck to his hands. I seen’em drag one in behind a horse once. He was already dead before they got here, but it didn’t stop them from pulling him on in so everybody could see him. They strung him up in a tupelo tree, let him hang there a day ’fore they let his family take him down. We need to stay out of the way till it’s over. Try not to think about it. Try not to hear it, if it can be helped. I know this. When it happened before, it sure was a long time ’fore I could bear to look at any of them colored folks straight in the eyes. Like to have tore me all to pieces, and I didn’t hardly know the feller. Way I see it, Rae Lynn. A life is a life, you know?”

Rae Lynn couldn’t speak. Her stomach was trying to crawl up her throat. The howls and yelps faded in and out and told them the hunt was still on. How long could someone stay on the run in this heat without water, or food? Toward suppertime, Rae Lynn noticed the long, drawn-out howls coon hounds are known for had gone silent. She paused, rag in hand and suspended midair where she’d been wiping off shelves. Her mouth went dry in the way a drink of water couldn’t fix, and she was filled with a sense of dread. Otis drummed his fingers on the counter, then started pacing back and forth at the front of the store. Several times he went outside onto the stoop only to come back in with a grumpy expression.

He said, “Ain’t no sign a them coming back yet. Can’t hear no wagons, no nothing. Damn. What’s taking so long?”

Cornelia said, “Well.”

Otis said, “They either got him, or he got away. They should a been back to the camp by now. Them dogs is quiet. I wished they’d hurry it up.” He rubbed his hands together, like he was excited, and said, “I wanna see what they gonna do. Hell, we might have us a bona fide lynching! I ain’t seen one of them in a while!”

Rae Lynn stopped her work. What talk! Like he was eager for something like this to happen!

She swung around, her palms instantly going sweaty as she spoke up. “What is wrong with you?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”