Caleb's Wars (5 page)

"That's 'cause you had so many sins to wash away," I reminded him.

"Ha ha. What about
you?
"

This was my invitation. But I didn't take it after all. "I was all right. Didn't even get any water up my nose."

"But how did y'all
feel?
" Henry wanted to know. "In you souls."

"My
soul
was feelin' all right," Nathan said. "It was my
lungs
that wasn't feelin' too good."

"Be serious! I mean, did y'all get saved?
I
did."

"I guess so," Nathan answered.

"Praise the Lord! You repented of your sins?"

Nathan shrugged. "I reckon. What sins you got in mind?"

"All of 'em! I repented for smoking. I ain't never gonna smoke again. I promised the Lord last night I wouldn't."

"What else?" Nathan asked. He was trying not to laugh in Henry's face, but Henry didn't notice.

"I promised God I wouldn't cuss no more, or tell lies, or steal nothin', or ... think about girls in a lustful way."

"Sounds like you fixin' to be a real saint," Nathan said. "What you gonna do for fun from now on?"

"Leave him alone," I said. "He's trying to be serious."

"That's right," Henry agreed. "From now on, I gonna live my life for Jesus, do what he say, and try hard not to do what he don't like."

"What made you decide all that?" I asked.

"The Lord spoke to me after I come up out of the water, told me I needed to start livin' a holy life, 'cause I gonna be a preacher!"

That got my attention. God had spoken to Henry, too?

"Hey, what is it?" Henry asked me. "You look funny, Caleb."

"Nothing," I lied. "I'm surprised you're gonna to be a preacher, that's all. You really hear God?"

"Naw. Daddy told me that stuff only happen in Bible days. The Lord don't talk to people in this day and time."

I wanted to tell him that his daddy was dead wrong. But then he'd go and snitch, and Brother Johnson would want to ask me a lot of questions and prove from the Bible how
I
was wrong ... Suddenly, it just didn't seem worth all the mess.

"It warn't a voice I could hear," Henry said. "It was more like—like knowin' inside o' me."

"That ain't no surprise," Nathan pointed out. "Your daddy a preacher, you gonna be a preacher."

"That ain't it! You gonna be a bum just 'cause your daddy one?"

Nathan went for Henry then, and I had to pull him off. Truth is, his daddy, Mr. Artie,
was
a bum, and Nathan was touchy about it.

"We'll see just how long your 'decision' about holy livin' lasts," Nathan told Henry. "Won't we, big man? No more cigarettes, no more of my daddy's moonshine, no more cussin', no more—"

"God'll help me! And he help you, too, when you really ready to repent.
You
ain't been saved."

"Guess I jus' gotta take my chances, then. If gettin' saved make people act like
you,
I can do without it."

"How 'bout you, Caleb?" Henry asked. "You really get saved yesterday?"

At that moment I was so sick of Henry that I felt like punching him, too. "If I tell you, will you shut up about it?"

"All right."

"I don't know. I don't feel any different. Maybe I did and just don't realize it yet. And that's all I'm gonna say." If only Henry knew how much more I
could
say...

The camp was nothing fancy, just wooden buildings with metal roofs. It reminded me of Fort Gordon up in Augusta, where we'd gone when Randall got inducted into the army. All around this camp, though, were two wire fences a few feet apart—an inner and an outer one—each topped with three strings of barbed wire. At the corners were guard towers, and in them were men holding rifles.

A soldier appeared from the guardhouse at the gate. He had a rifle, too. "What do you boys want? This is no place for you to be hanging around."

"We ain't doin' nothin'," Nathan said.

"There's nothing to see here," the guard persisted. "You fellas better move along."

He was annoying me. "No harm in us looking, is there?" I asked.

"Get moving." It sounded like an order.

"Let's go," Henry whispered. "We don't want to get in no trouble."

"How we gonna get in trouble standin' in a public road?" Nathan shot back.

I had an idea. "Come on. Follow me."

"Bye," Nathan said cheerily to the guard. He ignored us.

I led the way back a little farther along the road and cut into the woods.

"What we doin'?" Henry asked.

"Going back to the camp. No one can tell us we can't stand and look. We weren't doing anything wrong."

"I ain't goin' back there."

"Fine," Nathan replied. "Run on home to your mama. She got your baby bottle all ready."

"We're just gonna look at the camp where there aren't any guards," I explained. "Nothing can happen."

"I don't know—"

"Do it say in the Bible, 'Thou shalt not look at the camp'?" Nathan asked.

Henry laughed. "I reckon not. I'm with y'all."

We came back to the camp halfway along its left side as you faced it from the road. The corner guard towers were pretty far away, and no one was watching the fence. We walked right up to it and looked inside.

Two prisoners were stringing a clothesline from the corner of a barracks to a pine tree. Others were digging a ditch. From a shower house came three men with wet hair, towels draped over their shoulders.

We walked toward the far corner of the camp and ducked into the woods to avoid the guard tower. Then we came around to the back, where a large space had been cleared and several prisoners were playing soccer.

A couple of men watching the game noticed us. "Hallo!" one shouted.

"What now?" Henry asked.

"Say hey back," I said.

"We won't get in trouble?"

"You can't get in no trouble sayin' hey to somebody," Nathan said.

The prisoner who'd said hallo started talking to the others. Then the soccer stopped, and in a moment, several of the men were looking at us and talking to each other.

"Come on," Henry said.

"Yeah," Nathan agreed. "They lookin' at us like we monkeys, even if
they
the ones in the cage."

As we went, I heard, real clear in the middle of all the German I didn't understand, one word I knew: "niggers."

Nathan and Henry heard it, too.

The soccer players started back to their game.

"Let's get out of here," Henry said.

"Wait," I said, searching for a rock. Nathan did the same. In a moment, I had three.

"What you gonna do, Caleb?" Henry asked.

I ran to the fence and let fly. "Hey!" I shouted.

"Go kiss Hitler's ass!" Nathan yelled. "But mine first!" Quick as anything, he dropped his pants and flashed his behind at the camp.

I threw another rock, and by a miracle it went through both fences and hit a prisoner in the head. Some others started for the fence, yelling.

"
Now
it's time to go!" I cried. "Come on."

Nathan gave the men his middle finger. I did the same. Some of the Germans returned the favor, so they knew exactly what we meant. Then, laughing, I ran back to the woods, Nathan and Henry right behind me.

"We showed 'em!" Nathan crowed when we stopped for breath. "That was a mighty lucky shot."

"You did your part!"

"I meant it, too. Any time they want to line up, I'm ready."

"Y'all shouldn't of done that," Henry protested.

"Why not?" Nathan cried. "They insulted us."

"We suppose to turn the other cheek."

"I
did!
Both of 'em! Jeez, I was obeyin' God without even knowin' it!"

"You better not take the Lord's name in vain."

Nathan turned on him. "Listen. If you want to get all holy, okay. I can put up with you bein' a pain in the ass for a while. But don't go tellin'
me
how to be, understand?"

Henry lowered his eyes. "All right. It just that I'm worried about you."

"About my soul, I reckon," Nathan said wearily.

"Yeah."

"Look. I can take care o' myself. Caleb, too. So just relax, okay?"

"All right."

We went through the woods, Nathan and me joking about how we'd insulted the Germans. Then, after we came back to Brinson's Mill Road, I heard the wagon. The sound came up behind us pretty quick, like the driver was in a hurry. "Move," I told Nathan, touching his shoulder. I didn't want to get run over.

When I turned to see who it was, something hit me right in the face—hit me hard. I touched my mouth and found blood.

"What the hell?" Nathan cried.

The wagon pulled up beside us. It was the Hills: Lonnie and Orris, the ones we'd met in town on Saturday, and their big brother, Dolan. They were laughing like the jackasses they were.

"You got him good." Lonnie gave Dolan a congratulatory slap. "Right in his big black mouth."

"Why'd you do that?" I cried. "We weren't bothering you."

"Look," Nathan said, picking up something from the road—a purple and white turnip. "This is what got you."

Without warning, another one caught Henry in the forehead.

"If this ain't my day!" Dolan crowed. "Got him, too! Jes' one to go."

"Come on," Henry urged. "They drunk."

Sure enough, there was a whiskey jug on the seat.

I didn't want to tangle with the Hills, especially not all three at once. They were mean enough when they were sober, and Dolan was a big guy.

"Don't turn your backs on me!" Lonnie shouted at us. "Look at me when I'm talkin' to you."

We all turned around. A lifetime of training made us do whatever any white man told us—even a sorry cracker like Lonnie Hill.

"So talk," Nathan said. "I can't wait to hear what somebody brilliant as you got to say."

"Hush!" I hissed at him.

"You got a smart mouth, you know that?" Lonnie said. "One thing I hate, it's a nigger with a smart mouth."

"You know what
I
hate?" Nathan asked.

"Don't!" Henry begged. He looked scared out of his wits.

"What'd that be?" Lonnie asked.

"That a woman old and ugly as yo' mama charge half a dollar. The boys in Toad Hop say she ain't worth more'n two bits."

In a second they swarmed off the wagon and charged us. Now we had to fight, and we did.

It's a good thing the Hills had been drinking—else they might have whipped us bad. They were fit to be tied, and Henry wasn't much help at first. I thought he was just going to stand there and "turn the other cheek" after Orris punched him in the face, but he got mad and fought back as best he could. Nathan took Dolan out with a quick knee to the crotch. Then we fought Orris and Lonnie. I got in my licks against them both, and so did Nathan, who could scrap like a cornered bobcat when he was really angry.

When it was over, we hightailed into the woods, leaving Dolan on the ground clutching his nuts, Orris with a nose pouring blood, and Lonnie with a gash on his cheek. Henry's face was a bruised mess, Nathan had lost part of a front tooth, and I had a split lower lip and a right eye swelling shut.

"I could choke you," I told Nathan when we were safely away from the road. "That cracker is right. You
do
have a smart mouth."

"Why you mad at
me?
Maybe you don't care what white folks say, but I'm sick and tired of bein' called a nigger. I'm gonna fight back every time trash like them boys mess with me."

"And get yourself killed," I predicted.

"Y'all both shut up!" Henry shouted. "Just shut
up.
We in bad trouble now, and y'all can't do nothin' but fight each other. What gonna happen when them boys get home and tell they daddy?"

"Nothin'," Nathan said. "They old man sorrier'n they is. Long as they bring him his liquor, he won't care if they get they white asses killed."

Henry wiped away tears. I wanted to smack him.

"Nathan's right," I said. "Nothing else will happen."

"You don't know that! It's all your fault," Henry accused. "You, too, Caleb. If y'all hadn't of throwed them rocks at the prisoners, them boys wouldn't of chucked turnips at you."

"How you figure all that?" Nathan asked. "That's crazy talk."

"Bible say, 'As a man sows, so shall he reap.' Y'all throwed rocks at the Germans, and God brought it back on you right away."

"You gone plumb crazy!" Nathan exclaimed. "I told you to shut up about that Bible stuff. You say one more word, I swear I'm gonna bust your head wide open."

"Let's just get home," I said.

"I told y'all not to go back to the camp after that guard say for us to move along," Henry added. "If you'd of listened to me—"

That's when Nathan punched him in the stomach.

Then he stalked off through the woods.

***

Pop was sitting on the porch when I came into the yard. "What on
earth
happen to you? Lucy!" he called. "Come out here."

I stood at the foot of the porch steps. Ma came through the door, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "Caleb?" she exclaimed. "How—"

Pop got to his feet. "You been fightin'."

Yes, sir.

Ma came toward me, but Pop stopped her.

"Frank, the boy's hurt. His lip's cut and that eye's a mess."

"Who'd you fight?" Pop demanded. "Don't tell me you and Nathan got into it."

"No, sir. He was with me, though. Henry, too."

"What happened?" Ma asked. Her voice was tight.

Now I was in for it. Wildly, I searched for a story—a lie—anything. Why hadn't I thought of something on the way home?

"He needs tending," Ma said.

"That can wait. Caleb, what'd you get into?"

There was no way out. I couldn't think of a lie, and Pop could ask Nathan and Henry to check my story. "We went to the prison camp."

"What? That ain't no place for you!"

"Just to look at it. We went to the front gate and the guard told us to move."

"What else?"

"So we went around to the back of the camp—"

"After the guard told y'all to leave?"

"We were just standing there in the road, and he didn't have any right—"

Pop cut me off. "Yeah, he did! It his job to keep order around there."