The Mirk and Midnight Hour (23 page)

“No,” I said. “We’re staying as far away from them as we can. Where were they when you saw them, Sparrow? Close by?”

“Yonder. A right far piece, near a big house. They wasn’t dancing, though. I don’t know what they was doing. I ran fast to get away, and it took me a while to come to this place. In all my born days, I ain’t never come across this place before.”

A smile quirked the lieutenant’s lips. “I’m glad you found us—after all your born days.”

“The VanZeldts won’t be here till the evening,” I said. “I guess we’ll stay a bit longer. There’s things we need to talk about. Seeley, will you grab Lieutenant Lynd’s bags?”

Since Coon Baby had made a mess of Sparrow’s pie before falling asleep, I passed the girl another slice. She nibbled it as Seeley trotted over to the saddlebags. He heaved them up and dropped them beside Lieutenant Lynd. “Aren’t you surprised?”

The lieutenant stared as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Why, those are mine. I never thought I’d see them again. How—where did you find them?”

“They showed up with Star in our pasture a while back,” Seeley said.

“You have my horse? She’s at your place?”

“Sure is,” Seeley said. “We’re taking care of her.”

“But how did you know Star and these bags were mine?” Lieutenant Lynd touched the leather with wonder.

I was glad he was so surprised he didn’t ask how we knew his horse’s name. I could never let him know I’d read his letter. Would he believe the horse had told me? “We didn’t
know
,” I said. “We
brought them because we thought they
might
be yours. We don’t have that many riderless Union horses around here—yet.”

He began pulling out item after item. “My toothbrush! And soap! Unheard-of luxury!” When he drew out the shirt, the carvings fell from it. He was wriggling into his sleeves when Seeley reached for the figures.

“Can I see these?” He took them up before the lieutenant could answer and rubbed his palm along the woman’s flowing gown.

“This is so much better,” Lieutenant Lynd said as he fastened his buttons. “One feels vulnerable without clothing.”

I was more comfortable with him in a shirt as well.

He nodded toward the carvings. “I never did get those polished as smooth as I wanted them.”

“You thought these up and made them yourself?” Seeley asked.

“I did.”

“With just a pocketknife?”

The lieutenant nodded.

“Would you teach me how?” Seeley reverently traced the man’s curling beard with his finger. “I’ve got a pocketknife too.”

“I can show you how I do it, anyway,” Lieutenant Lynd said. “I sort of taught myself. It was as if the figures just grew naturally out of the wood.”

“Are they elves?” I asked.

“Don’t know,” Lieutenant Lynd said. “I don’t know what they are. I didn’t really think as I shaped them.”

Sparrow had been watching with interest. Now she spoke. “They be People Things.”

I started to laugh but couldn’t because it wasn’t funny; it was true.

“We’ll bring you wood,” Seeley said, handing the figures to the lieutenant.

Lieutenant Lynd rubbed his bearded chin. He held out the carvings to me. “Would you like these? I really don’t know what to do with them.”

It had caused me a pang to turn the figures over to him, and now I could keep them. He removed the sapphire velvet case, opened it, studied it a moment, and held it out to us. “My sister, Addie.”

His sister. Oh
.

“She’s pretty,” I said.

Next came the packet of letters. He unfolded one and smoothed out the paper. “You’re already doing so much for me, but is there any way you could get a note across the lines to my family? They’ve got to be worried sick.”

“I can try,” I said. “Our older cousin is staying with us and he does some smuggling now and then, so maybe he can get it sent.”

“Smuggling, eh? Sounds awfully adventurous.”

“Yes, indeed. Dorian is most definitely an adventurer. I can’t even tell you how many times he’s run the blockade—he’s a Southern patriot. I guess I’ll pretend your letter is from me. I’ll make up some story.”

“Isn’t it funny?” Lieutenant Lynd retied the string around the packet, and for the first time I noticed a ring on his pinkie finger—a carnelian stone set within a scrolled gold frame. “The rest of the world seemed so unreal until you came the other day. If I strained to clearly remember people and places, they eluded me, as if I were
trying to recall a dream, but now everything has come rushing back. I wonder …”

“You wonder what?” Seeley asked.

“Oh, nothing.” The lieutenant glanced out the door. “Look, Seeley. There’s a toad hopping right there. Could you and Sparrow catch that one and find some more, do you think? We could have a toad race.”

The two children jumped up and ran outside.

I waited until they were out of earshot. “Now, what did you want to say without them around?”

His face was grave. “Do you mind if I confide in you and ask your advice?”

“Of course not.”

“Even though I’m a Yankee?”

“I suppose the whole war isn’t entirely your fault.” I examined my nails as if it really mattered that they were stubby and chipped. “I think—I think you would have liked Rush if you had ever met him. And he would have liked you.”

“I’m sure that would have been the case. I wish we had known each other. I—there’s nothing I can say except, once again, how sorry I am.”

I gave a slight nod, accepting his words. “I guess I’ll have to admit here and now that I’ve had some doubts about things myself. Slavery and—everything.”

“I knew it! You’re too smart not to have questioned it.”

Should I be insulted or flattered? “You must know,” I said slowly, “even if Mississippians want to free their slaves, the law makes it almost impossible. You can’t just do it because of a change of heart.
You have to get permission from the state legislature, and it’s rarely given.”

Lieutenant Lynd nodded. “I understand.”

“Now,” I said, “there’s things I need to tell you too, so we better talk fast. For instance, do you know what that bag is that you’re wearing around your neck? That mojo bag?”

“Hmm. ‘Mojo,’ it’s called? There’s dried leaves and flowers and some little pebbles in it.”

For a moment I toyed with the notion of showing him my amulet, then dismissed it. Right now I was too unsure of everything, and Amenze’s gift was too personal to display to anyone else. “Their magic is called ‘hoodoo.’ You may have heard it called ‘voodoo’—that’s when it’s practiced as a religion. Some of the slaves brought it with them from Africa. On some plantations it’s a common practice, even though preachers preach against it and masters try to stop it. I’ve always thought of hoodoo as something frightening, but the VanZeldts are healing you, so maybe it evokes good as well.” I lifted my chin. “I believe it really can have some power.”

“So do I. Now. But
why
are they healing me? That’s one of the questions I need answered. They don’t seem to actually care about me. They’re saving my leg and keeping me alive, but I feel no compassion coming from them. They bring me food and change the dressing with almost a—a contempt.”

“And the fact that they don’t speak to you and leave you no light, with only that skimpy blanket as a cover … All that is cruel. I’ve thought they could be acting under orders from their master, Dr. VanZeldt. Maybe he’s a Northern sympathizer. Has he ever come here?”

“Not that I know of. But I’ve slept an abnormal amount during these weeks, and when I’ve been awake, my brain has been foggy; he may have come when I wasn’t quite present. Could I have been drugged? That’s what I was about to say before the children left. They bring an odd-tasting drink every night with the stew. There’s a bitter taste to it, disguised with molasses. I’ve been drinking it because I supposed I needed all the nourishment I could get. Last night, though, I poured it out after they were gone. For the first time since I came here, I woke with the dawn and my mind has worked clearly.”

“Perhaps they gave it to you in order to ease the pain.”

He stretched out his arms and shoulders. “Well, no more. I don’t like being unaware of reality and having no control of my thinking.”

“When we were little, we used to play around pretending we could cast spells because we’d heard a few things about hoodoo from Anarchy. That’s Sparrow’s grandmother. She’s—oh, I’ll tell you about her later. Anyway, Aunt Permilla—she was a servant, but acted as a mother to me—she caught us doing it once and said”—I deepened my voice to mimic Aunt Permilla’s—“ ‘Hoodoo sounds like foolishment when you’re setting in your cozy house, but when you seen what I seen when I was a child and a conjure man stayed right there on the same plantation, you don’t laugh no more.’ ” I shivered. Aunt Permilla’s normally snug manner had prickled as if her every sense were on edge.

“Did she tell you what it was she had seen?”

“When we prodded, the only thing she ever said was, ‘Doornail dead one minute, then walking around live as you or me the next.’ She pursed up her lips after that and wouldn’t explain or say
anything more about it. Her silence made it all the scarier. Ever after, we took spell casting seriously. And that’s why I need to tell you something else.”

He waited.

It was hard to know how to voice it out loud. I licked my dry lips. “Back at the beginning of April, right around when you were wounded, I was working at the hospital in town.”

“Commendable.”

“No. I was not a good nurse. I tried, but there really wasn’t much I could do but bring food and water and write letters for the poor men.”

“And that’s a great deal.”

I waved my hands through the air as if waving his words away. “Afterward the bodies were laid outside waiting to be taken off for burial. One of them had red hair.”

He frowned, questioning.

“What color was your friend Jorgenson’s hair?”

“Oh. Red.”

“This corpse also had a mojo bag like yours. And—and his throat was slashed above it.”

Lieutenant Lynd drew in a sharp breath. “They killed him.”

“That’s what I thought. It wasn’t the sort of injury that would happen in battle.”

“Jorgenson’s wound was to his stomach.” The lieutenant put his head in his hands.

I waited a moment to let everything sink in before going on. “That’s why I may not be able to keep the promise I made to Seeley.
I said I wouldn’t turn you in. But if your life truly is in danger from the VanZeldts, I’ll go to the marshal in a flash in order to save you.”

“I understand,” he said as he raised his head. “And I trust you to do what’s best. In fact, I’ll ask you myself to turn me in if I think they’re about to harm me. Somehow I believe I’ll be able to detect a change in their manner in time to be warned. At least now, for whatever reason, they’re keeping me alive and they’re saving my leg.” He paused and studied his hands. “You don’t—you don’t know how mutilated I was and what a miracle it is that I’m healing. If I leave here anytime soon, a surgeon would still amputate, and with the wound so high on my hip …” He looked up at me earnestly. “But if I keep progressing as I am now, I think I could be walking in a few weeks, even though I’m almost scared to say so out loud.”

The children returned. Seeley held some moving things folded up in his shirttail. “It took so long because we wanted three to race. You two each get one, and I’m sharing mine with Sparrow.” He set the toads down in a line against the far wall. They squatted unmoving and unblinking.

“How do we know which is whose?” I asked.

“The smaller, faster-looking one is mine and Sparrow’s,” Seeley said, “and the biggest is Lieutenant Lynd’s. The other is Violet’s.”

“The prettiest,” Lieutenant Lynd said.

“Where is it pretty?” I demanded.

“Oh, you know … for toads.…” Lieutenant Lynd was watching me closely. “By the way, the blue of your ribbon exactly matches your eyes.”

I looked quickly back at the toads. “How do we make them move?”

“Tickle their feet, Seeley,” Lieutenant Lynd said. “That’s how I always did it.”

Seeley complied, and soon it was a real race across the floor. We were all—even Sparrow—cheering on our favorite and laughing noisily.

“Them toads are sure ’nough having a good time too,” Sparrow said.

Seeley studied me. “Violet, you never laugh that loud.”

My face grew hot, but I laughed again. “They look so funny galumphing like that. Maybe Lieutenant Lynd should write about toad people instead of snake people. Because villains with legs would be more threatening.”

Seeley’s eyes danced. “Ooh. I think they’d be more creepy slithering around with their tongues poking out. You know—like this.” He narrowed his eyes to slivers and his tongue flashed in and out.

Sparrow gave a little shuddering cry.

“Stop it, Seeley,” I said.

“I’ll try it both ways,” Lieutenant Lynd said. “We’ll see which works best.”

Suddenly, with a roar, the rain came down again as if the bottom had let loose from the sky. I jumped. “We need to go.”

Lieutenant Lynd shook his head. “You can’t leave in weather like this.”

“We’ve got to.” I stood. “It’s getting late and we need to be long gone before the VanZeldts come. Sparrow, will you be all right? Won’t you come with us to Scuppernong and stay till the storm stops?”

She looked scornful. “The warm rain feels good on my skin.”

“Do you know your way home?” I had to ask.

“Course. I go everywhere all the time. Sometimes I even sleep all night out in the trees. Memaw don’t never fuss about me.”

“Oh,” Seeley said, “I just thought of something. Don’t tell your memaw about Lieutenant Lynd. He’s a secret.”

I had been wondering how to ask Sparrow to keep quiet.

She gave a sober nod. “When I find nests and things, I don’t tell nobody. ’Tis best.”

Without another word, before we knew it, she was gone.

“We’ll see her again,” I told Seeley. “We’ll visit her at Anarchy’s.” I picked up the saddlebags Lieutenant Lynd had repacked. “Do you think we should hide these?”

“Yes,” he said. “Even if their motives are entirely innocent, from the way the VanZeldts act, it’s obvious I’m their secret. Let me remove the shirt. Then you better take everything away with you.”