The black swan (17 page)

"I'll not forget it."

"Indeed you won't," the captain replied, and laughed. "You'll remember everything the sea has to teU you. She's an awesome mistress, Tremain. She doesn't permit a man many mistakes. And I'll warn you now, while you're still young and full of dreams, once she takes you as hers, she'll never let you go."

"It's.too late already. Captain Connacher. I love the sea better than anything else in the world."

Walking again on deck, it was easy to imagine it was his own. He gazed out across the smoothly rolling waves to the darkish line where blue water swallowed blue sky. Around him were nettings, masts, and stacks, and things called bow-chocks, davits, cleats, braces, halyards, sheets, chain plates—all pieces and parts of a steamship rigged for sail, things whose very names spelled mystery and adventure to Adam.

Adam begrudged the years he would have to spend at the university before he could sit for his master's papers and captain such a ship as this. For the moment he gloried in the possessive richness of the borrowed deck, and felt through the soles of his boots the surge and pull of the Atlantic Ocean. Here, he knew with a joyous excitement, lay his destiny.

Long before they came into the Wilmington pier, they sighted the many steeples, the high square tower of Saint James's Church, the fine homes with their shade trees and outbuildings. In the Cape Fear River running west of the city were a number of smaller ships, loaded flatboats, and barges. Over the entire dock area hung the sharp odors of tar, turpentine, and resin being shipped to ports all over the world.

The passengers were being met by a peculiar assortment of Negro men, dressed in oddments of garb they thought attractive. All of them wore the badges that proclaimed them free; all of them clamored for business. "Ca'iage, suh? Ca'iage, ma'am?"

Zoe retreated in indecision, and Adam took charge. "We want to go to the home of Mr. Garrett Pinckney, a lawyer," he said. "He lives—"

The driver's face halved itself in a glad smile. "Yassuh, Ah knows dat house well. On Dock Street near Thud. Yassuh! Mistah Garrett Pinckney is a mighty fine gent'man, mighty fine, suh!"

Mammy eyed the driver distastefully and said irritably, "Den quit chewin' de fat an' take us dere, nigger!"

The driver said respectfully, "You a mighty fine Mammy, an' you thinks you knows ever'thin', but you doan, no'm, you doan. Dis way, ma'am! Dis way, suh! Watch de li'l lady over dem loose planks, Mammy!"

Along the way the driver continued exceptionally loquacious, pointing out the Cassady Brothers Shipyard and the Marine Railway and the home of Mr. James Cassady. On Front Street they passed the imposing Georgian home of Governor Edward Dudley, where plans had been formulated for the Wilmington and Weldon Railroad and Daniel Webster had once been a guest.

"Dar's Saint John's Lodge." The driver pointed to a building with shuttered windows and white-painted steps leading to a second-floor porch. There was a dignified, new

double house with stone eyebrows over its five upper windows, near to a handsome brick home whose Hnes were accented by geometric ironwork. Everywhere were signs of construction.

Leona and Garrett Pinckney hved in a two-story clapboard house, with wisteria climbing the porch and tall black gum and Spanish oak trees shading the yard. A latticed wall led them to the porte cochere, where the driver let them out with more beamings and good wishes.

"Uppity free nigger," muttered Mammy darkly, as the carriage pulled away. "Talkin' up to white folks like he sumbuddy."

Zoe said, "Oh, dear! Suppose Leona isn't at home!"

Adam shrugged. "We'll find a place to stay until Aunt Leona returns."

Zoe looked apprehensively at the door. I can't stand it if we have come all this way and Leona isn't even here."

Adam laughed and raised the lion-headed knocker on the door, letting it fall with a resounding clank. "One way to find out."

Chapter Eleven

Leona Pinckney opened the door to see her small sister standing on the stoop, tears forming, her face forlorn. "Zoe! Zoe, my dear! My heart can't trust my eyes!" She gathered Zoe into her motherly arms, with Zoe laughing and snifiBing in relief as she tried to dab her nose. "Oh, Adam, you're a man!" Leona gave him a hug as strong and possessive as the one she had given Zoe. Then she saw Mammy, waiting with endless patience, approving the reunion of two of the three sisters she had reared. Leona hugged and clung to Mammy's stolid bulk. "I'm so happy y*all are here! I do hope it's to be a long, long visit!"

Zoe's conscience smote her for dropping her problems onto an unknowing Leona. She looked toward Adam. "I'm afraid it's going to be more than a—" A smiling man appeared in the parlor doorway.

Leona rushed to his side, looking up at him adoringly. "Zoe, this is my darling husband, Garrett." They made a

striking couple, both gray-haired, tall, and big-boned. They even looked alike, with their aristocratic features and their direct way of looking at others.

Zoe smiled hesitantly at this Yankee, the brother-in-law she had never met.

"Leona, Garrett, there is something I ought to tell you. This isn't exactly a visit—"

"Well, let's sit down and relax a bit, Zoe. Then you can tell us whatever you want." Leona busily ushered them into the parlor.

"Leona, wait, please. We . . . had to leave New Orleans—"

Garrett took Zoe's arm. "There's time for that, Zoe. Right now, Leona and I are just happy you made the journey safely. We'll deal with the rest later. You're welcome to stay here as long as you like."

"Thank you, Garrett, but I must tell you right away. Tom and Angela were being hunted—may still be! Some men tried to kill him, and—"

"Dear sister Zoe," said Garrett with maddening casual-ness, "let us go into the parlor where we can be more comfortable."

"I'll just tell Cooky to put another potato in the pot,*' said Leona.

Mammy took Angela into the kitchen, while Zoe, Adam, and Tom talked to Garrett. He listened with interest and no visible shock.

Adam said, "We've pretty much put ourselves in your hands. We don't want to stay here under false pretenses. Perhaps you don't want to be involved."

He didn't miss the glance that Leona exchanged with Garrett before she said, smiling, "You're welcome here. My Garrett is just a sweet ol' transplanted Northerner who never acquired all the Southern sympathies."

Garrett smiled with tolerant affection at his wife. "Leona delights in telling people that around these parts I am considered a doughface. Those who know I am Northern think more highly of me than those who assume I am originally Southern. In either case my sympathies, or lack of them, cause some of the local folk to question my sanity. But rest easy, you will be safe enough here."

"Garrett, if people are already worried about your Northern sympathies, we'll only cause you more trouble," Zoe said anxiously.

"Not at all. I am merely the local eccentric, no more." He looked toward Tom. "My friends will be happy to give you employment, Mr. Pierson."

"Call me Tom," he said hoarsely. "I thank you for the offer, Garrett, but employment is about the only thing I don't need. I have a fair amount of money—if I can figure a way to get it out of New Orleans. As Adam told you, we left in a hurry."

"And I had to leave some of Mamma's furniture, Leona. It nearly broke my heart to go off and leave all that behind." Zoe looked pleadingly at Garrett. "Perhaps you could help me find an agent—"

Garrett laughed. "I thought Southerners never hurried! We'll arrange it all tomorrow. Leona, perhaps Zoe would like to see the house. I'm going to the docks to-get their goods. Adam, will you accompany me?"

When the men left and Tom was resting, Leona proudly showed Zoe Garrett's law certificate and other treasures he had brought from the North.

"Oh, Leona, Garrett is a fine man!" Zoe exclaimed.

"When I think that I wasn't sure I should, marry him, I actually feel like fainting!" When her first husband. Clay Thomas, died in the Mexican War, Leona had thought her life was over. Then she had fallen in love with the attorney who was clearing up Clay's estate. Still starry-eyed after two years of marriage, she wished the same for her younger sister. "I don't suppose there's a gentleman in your life, Zoe?"

Zoe shook her head. "I've only loved one man."

"Romantic tomfoolery! We know plenty of eligible gentlemen, and more than enough young ladies to delight over Adam. I will never understand how Paul Tremain sired a boy like him! He is such a handsome thing!" Leona cooed, mentally planning parties.

"Leona, really!" Zoe laughed. "Please keep in mind he is only sixteen years old."

"I wasn't judging merely by looks," Leona said, piqued at the implied criticism. "He is quite mature, and what else would be expected? After all, with Paul inebriated so often, somebody had to be the man of the house." At Zoe's pained look she said, "Well, I'm sorry, but it's time you quit mourning for a marriage that never worked out. If Papa had realized the kind of man Paul was, he'd never have allowed y'all to marry.'*

"Well, it*s past and better forgotten," said Zoe pleasantly. **0h, Leona, it's just like old times with you scolding and bossingi"

Leona laughed heartily. "I never learn, do I? What are your plans?"

"Adam and I will buy a house, I suppose. Tom says he'll do the same. This reaUy is a permanent move. We can't ever return to New Orleans. That Mr. Revanche means harm." Zoe shuddered at the memory, then paused, considering. "But here's the odd thing. He's also very attractive. I've never seen a man move so gracefully. Mind you, I didn't think of this until later. He frightened me badly at first. I was quite ready to faint. What terrified me most is that he is so pleasing to look at, yet he has this deadly air of control and purpose. One simply cannot imagine Mr. Revanche being at a loss. He commands. . . ." She shivered, then laughed uneasily.

"I'm glad you had the good sense to come to me immediately. You're no match for a man like that. And Adam need not be exposed to another worthless man. Paul was quite enough. Garrett will be good for him. Didn't it seem to you he was acting rather fatherly toward Adam?'*

Zoe hid her smile. "I do think he was, and I am so glad for it. I worry about Adam, Leona. All he wants is the sea. He dreams of a ship of his own, but I am anxious for him to be properly educated. As soon as it can be arranged, I'd like him to start at the imiversity."

"Garrett will be a strong aUy for you," Leona said,' and stood up. "I must see to some things in the kitchen. We employ free Negroes, you know, but even the best ones still require some supervision."

"You don't iown slaves anymore?"

"Garrett is a Yankee, remember? He doesn't believe in slavery."

"He didn't grow up with it as we did, or he'd see the necessity."

"I grew up with it, Zoe," Leona said softly. "I don't miss it either. Garrett says that historically it has never worked and that he does not wish to claim ownership of other men's lives. Would you disagree with his feelings?"

"Of course noti" After a long pause Zoe added, "But those are just idealistic words, Leona. Garrett may be right in theory, but the South needs her slaves. One man's opinion is not going to change things."

Again Leona smiled but did not reply.

At dinner Garrett proved to be an entertaining host as they all exchanged anecdotes about the past. Then Tom and Adam launched into an exaggerated version of Zoe's fright over the bear. Garrett laughed heartily.

The fish muddle had just been served when the butler came to the table. "An impohtant bizness mattuh has come up, suh."

Apologizing, Garrett left the room.

Tom smiled. "Clients before kinfolk anytime."

Leona excused herself, following Garrett into the hall. When she returned, Zoe looked questioningly at her. "Poor Garrett. I hope his clients don't do this to him often. I can hardly imagine George Andreas interrupting his supper for his clients, can you, Tom?"

Tom replied hoarsely, "Not likely."

Leona, preoccupied, said, "There are only certain clients for whom Garrett will do this. Some matters simply will not wait, you understand."

Zoe smiled. "No, I don't understand at all, but I believe you."

Not another word was said about Garrett's mysterious clients, and within the week he left for New Orleans. Armed with powers of attorney, Garrett would see George Andreas and arrange to sell Zoe's house, ship her household goods to Wilmington, and transfer Tom's and Zoe's accounts to the Bank of Cape Fear. He expected to return within the month.

Tom and Adam explored the streets and wharves of Wilmington, built a flatboat, and poled it in the shallow marshy areas of the Cape Fear River. For Adam it was a schooling of the sort he liked best. He learned the depths and shallows of the Cape Fear and its branches. New Inlet became one of his favorite areas as he went over the shoals and moved along inside the breaker line of the Atlantic. Vaguely he thought of serving as a river pilot for incoming and outgoing ships long before he would be able to sign on as an apprentice.

As Adam concentrated on the land beneath the water, Tom's eyes gafced fondly at the islands and swamplands, lush and inviting to him. "A man could build a house on one of these islands," he mused.

Pulling up his sounding line, Adam glanced at him.

"Aw, c'mon, Tom, you're not gonna take to the swamps again, are you? It was a good idea for New Orleans, but not here. Live near us, among your friends."

Tom looked at him coldly. "Friends," he said contemptuously.

Adam sighed. "You've got to trust somebody."

Apologetically Tom clapped him on the shoulder. "I trust you, and I think mebbe I'm gonna trust Garrett. // he comes back with my money."

"He'll be back. Listen, Tom, Ma and I could buy a double house."

"No," said Tom harshly. "Oh, hell, boy, I know you've got my best interests in mind, but I don't want much to do with people jes' yet."

"When we divide the flatboat, which half you gonna take?"

Tom laughed ruefully. "The half that floats, I guess. Give me time, boy. Right now I just want some quiet. You know, I liked the bayou house. It wasn't much, but damn if it wasn't the nicest little place I ever did have. Seems like a spot here in the swamp would suit me fine."