The Great Plains (11 page)

Aloysius sensed the fight begin to drain out of him.

From outside came the sound of arguing, male and female voices streamed through the air. Annie and Aloysius moved to the window. It was Serena and Thomas. They stood barely five feet from the porch, their backs to the house, talking loudly.

Aged twenty, Thomas had grown tall and wide-shouldered. A capable man, he tended to the herd of cattle Aloysius ran on his allotted one hundred and sixty acres as well as ensuring horses, saddlery items, their surrey and wagon were all maintained in good order.

‘Miss Serena, don't go out there again. You should have some breakfast and wash-up some. You look a sorry sight and you must be tired.' He followed her to the edge of what would eventually be a garden. There were wooden pegs outlining the Wade lot but no fence as yet; cows grazed in a paddock a short distance away near the barn; a windmill turned listlessly. In the distance the great trees that lined the North Canadian River formed a jagged boundary against the sky.

Serena turned in a circle. The landscape was almost devoid of trees except for those hugging the river. ‘They have made a prairie,' she commented as if seeing the land for the first time. ‘They have made the living dead.'

‘They had to build houses out of something, Miss Serena.'

Aloysius opened the window and was about to call out.

‘Wait,' Annie said, touching his hand. ‘Listen.'

Serena was walking as if on a tightrope, her skirts lifted to reveal her muscular calves. She pointed one foot in front of the other, ten steps, and then she turned and retraced her route. ‘I'm Indian, but you knew that, didn't you?' Serena spat the words out.

Thomas shook his head. ‘No, Miss Serena, I don't know nothing.'

From down the dirt road came the steady clip-clop of a horse, the squeak of leather and wheels.

Serena's forehead creased. ‘Sure you do. You're older than me. You would have heard the talk. Why are you lying when I thought you cared for me? Isn't that why you follow me, because you like me?' Serena spun in a circle and came to a sudden stop. ‘Well, isn't it? You've been following me around forever, always watching me with those big eyes of yours.'

‘I follow you 'cause I'm scared. Those places you go to, Miss Serena, they aren't the right places for a white girl.'

Serena laughed. ‘I'm not a white girl, I'm an Indian.'

‘You don't look like no Injun to me, Miss Serena.' Thomas took her hand in his but Serena snatched it away. ‘You can't go running around this here town barefooted and by yourself looking like you do,' Thomas told her bluntly. ‘Firstly it's dangerous and, second, what will people think?'

‘Why should I care about what people think?' Serena replied, turning her back on him.

Thomas moved to face her. ‘Mr and Mrs Wade are real good people, they done took you in and cared for you because they love you.'

‘Really? And I suppose that's why they don't want anyone to know about me being an Indian, because they love me.' She looked out across the paddock. ‘They just told me the truth of things, Thomas.'

‘Well then, that's a good thing, ain't it, Miss Serena?'

The girl kicked at a tuft of soap-weed. ‘I think they felt obliged to save me but they didn't want the Indian part of me. They're embarrassed about the Indian blood in me.'

‘But they've been real good to you, Miss Serena.'

‘Grandpapa has, I think the rest just do what he says. I heard them talking once, Aunt Chloe and Uncle Joe's wife Aunt Susan, those two women said it was a crime that I was being reared like any normal white girl, when it was obvious I was different and would always be different. They said I didn't belong with the likes of the Wade family, that I shouldn't have been made a ward or be entitled to money and that eventually I'd cause trouble. Well, maybe they were right.' She paused. ‘Look what happened to Gwen.'

‘That was an accident.'

Serena kicked at the ground again and pursed her lips. ‘Do you know who Geronimo is?'

‘Sure, everyone knows that name.'

Serena said the word
Apache
, slowly, thoughtfully. ‘Was he a murdering savage?'

Thomas thought for a moment. ‘Probably. He sure killed lots of people.'

A surrey appeared over a rise in the road. ‘It's Mr Edmund and Miss Chloe. I heard that Mr Edmund is going to be your guardian when Mr and Mrs Wade have gone to meet the Almighty. That's why we up and moved here to Oklahoma City, so you'd be near them.'

‘I don't want a guardian,' Serena said curtly.

‘But everyone needs someone to look after them, Miss Serena.'

‘Aunt Chloe hates me so why would I want Edmund looking out for me?'

‘You're awful sad inside, ain't you?' Thomas stated.

They stared across the field, at the cattle with their heads down in the long grass, at the carriage approaching at a steady pace. Edmund's surrey was ebony black with finely spoked wheels and a thick fringe that hung from the edge of the roof.

‘I got this thing inside of me, Thomas.' Serena held a hand to her chest. ‘A thing that wants to get out, sometimes it's here,' she touched her head, ‘sometimes here,' then her heart. She moved closer to Thomas. ‘Your grandpapa, he was a slave, wasn't he?'

Thomas was caught off-guard by the change in topic, but he puffed out his cheeks and nodded solemnly. ‘Yes, ma'm, he came out from the old country chained up like an animal.'

Serena took another step towards him. ‘He didn't like it.'

‘No, ma'm, he didn't like it. And my pappy, well, he was born a slave, course now he's a freed man.'

Serena sidled closer to Thomas until they were only a foot apart. ‘A freed man,' she repeated. Lifting her hand she traced the contours of Thomas's face. ‘I've got this wanting inside of me,' she whispered.

‘What are you wanting, Miss Serena?' he asked nervously.

‘I don't know, but maybe I'm just like your grandpapa and pappy.'

Thomas licked his lips.

‘Maybe I just want to be free.' Lifting her skirts Serena ran swiftly down the dirt road away from the house.

At that moment Edmund halted the surrey outside his parents' house and climbed out before lifting six-year-old Tobias to the ground. He then walked around to assist his wife.

‘Stop her, Thomas!' Aloysius yelled from the porch.

Edmund took his hands from Chloe's waist and stared down the road. Serena was running like the wind, her dark skirts billowing out behind. Thomas glanced towards the house and then he too was running, chasing Serena down the street.

Aloysius touched the spur to the horse's flanks. At his back lay a swathe of gently undulating country and the residue of an afternoon sun. He imagined what the area may have once been like before the arrival of settlers in 1889, when the country was still empty of people, the trees grew tall and straight and buffalo wandered the plains beyond. There were farms here now, people grew wheat and corn and cattle. If a man were to go up in a hot air balloon he would see the new town, Oklahoma City, spilling out in all directions from a neat grid formation. There were three-storey buildings, grand hotels and a civic hall, electric streetcars and some very fine parks as well as a zoo. One couldn't deny the progress that had been made in a little over a decade and Aloysius would be the first to argue the merits of opening up these lands. In fact, it should have been done sooner, yet there was another part of him that wondered at what was lost when change came too quickly. The outskirts of the city were ill-defined, a straggle of buildings interspersed with the tented population, order ringed by half-formed dreams, opportunities stymied by lack of resources and, people who were yet to find a place in mainstream society. Aloysius rubbed at the small of his back. He had been in the saddle for four hours straight; he was tired and thirsty and becoming maudlin, yet he had to keep his mind busy for he had a tendency to imagine the worst.

The horse nickered softly as they left the open country and reached the trees that bordered the waterway. Aloysius gave an encouraging cluck of his tongue as they crossed from daylight to semi-darkness. There was a well-defined trail to follow. This was the second time in as many days that he had travelled this route and the men that he rode to meet were already ahead of him, waiting with Edmund.

Overhead, the canopy stretched from branch to branch. A few spindles of light angled between gnarly cottonwood and hackberry trees, highlighting patches of grass, otherwise it was dark. Aloysius directed the horse in a zig-zag pattern, covering fresh ground from the previous day. The gelding circumnavigated a horizontal tree. There was a depression beneath the decaying cypress, a gap large enough for a body. Dismounting, Aloysius peered into the recess, checked the leaf litter for any traces of disturbance. There was no sign that anyone had rested here. No footprints, nothing. Taking the canteen from his saddle, he leant against the fallen tree, and took a swig of water. The liquid was tepid. He rolled it around his mouth and spat it into the dirt at his feet.

Further down the bank he could hear voices. He knew he must remount and join Edmund and the others but exhaustion was eating at him. Aloysius had no idea where Serena had run off to, but the girl had been missing for two days, as had Thomas. It was not a coincidence. He knew this in his heart. Having witnessed their conversation the day that Serena disappeared, he now wondered at their relationship. Aloysius always assumed that Thomas was a good boy at heart. He had been in his employ for many years and up until two days ago, was considered the most reliable of their staff. But he couldn't ignore the fact that Thomas was a descendant of slaves and as such could not be trusted.

Heaving his body into the saddle, he urged his mount down the sandy slope to the North Canadian River. Voices echoed as the horse moved automatically towards the sounds, weaving through the trees and stepping gingerly over fallen timber until eventually Aloysius glimpsed the wide expanse of water that moved languidly from west to east. There were four men on horseback, including his son. Edmund waved to him on approach. It was clear by the expression on his face that there was no good news.

‘Sheriff Cadell has taken the second search party some four miles downstream,' Aloysius informed the men. ‘I went briefly back to our residence,' he told Edmund, ‘just in case there was any word.'

Edmund had a leg strung out across the front of his saddle and the dark cloth of his suit was covered in dust. His son looked exceedingly well; action suited him.

Ben Wright spat out a wad of chewing tobacco, the juice of which was beginning to leave a permanent stain in the corner of his mouth. ‘I know you said that you can vouch for the Negro boy, Mr Wade, but time's a-marching on. You'd think he'd be doing his best to get your girl home by now.'

The two other men in the search party mumbled in agreement. They were young, rough-looking types, called up by the sheriff when a job needed doing quickly. The wooden stocks of their rifles were shiny from use.

Ben took a flask from his vest and swallowed thirstily. He'd recently come down from Dodge City, Kansas, having collected on a bounty owed him. At twenty-five years of age, he was a hardened man partial to hunting men on the run from the law. ‘I went back down to West Second Street last night, called in at a few establishments to see if anyone had heard of a black and a white girl on the run.'

‘You think my little girl would be in Harlot's Lane?'

‘Don't take offence, Mr Wade,' Ben continued. ‘That there place is the best source of information in the city. Anyways, a couple of women know your girl, say they've seen her walking around at night on the edge of town.'

The men stared at Aloysius. He could only guess what they were thinking. ‘She's been upset recently,' he said by way of explanation.

‘Well, a Negro matching your boy's description was seen outside of Schweinle & Monroney Dry Goods store on West Grand Avenue yesterday, but there wasn't any white girl with him.'

‘If it was Thomas,' Aloysius replied, ‘and Serena wasn't with him then he must be looking for her as well.'

‘Yup,' Ben sounded unconvinced, ‘that is, unless he's got her holed up somewhere and he went out to get food. Abducted, maybe.'

Aloysius shuddered at the word.

One of the other men, Tyson, scratched at a thick beard. ‘That's the worst of these free blacks, give them a bit of money and they think they're just like anybody else. Anyway, the word's out now. The whole town knows that black boy took your girl.'

‘Now hang on just a minute,' Edmund interrupted. ‘There is no proof whatsoever that Thomas has done anything wrong.' His horse backed up nervously, unsettling the other mounts. ‘You'll have half the town after him.'

‘Well, if that be the case,' Tyson sniffed, ‘you'll have your girl back sooner rather than later. And then you can write it up in that paper of yours. Anyway the only good black is a dead black.'