AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Anot'er woman went to the headsman 'stead of me. They put a gag in her mout' and tied her feet and hands. From my window I saw them lift her head out of the basket and hold it up by the hair for the crowd to see."
Abigail kept her eyes on the tops of her hands and cleared her throat.
"I think you've had a hard life, Miss Carrie," Abigail said.
"You been trying to borrow money around town. Ain't nobody gonna give you money to go up against Todd McCain. He's in the White League."
"How do you know?"
"He visits my house."
"You're offering to lend me money?"
"He's gonna set up a saloon, probably wit' girls out back. What's good for him is bad for me."
"And part of the deal is I help you with your health? I'd do that, anyway, Miss Carrie."
"There's somet'ing else." Carrie rotated a ring on her finger.
"What might that be?" Abigail asked.
"I cain't read and write, me. Neither can my brother, Jean-Jacques."
IT was late evening when Willie Burke walked into town and stood in front of his mother's boardinghouse on the bayou. A rolled and doubled-over blanket, with his razor, a sliver of soap, a magazine and a change of clothes inside, was tied on the ends with a leather cord and looped across his back. A narrow-chested, shirtless boy, wearing a Confederate kepi, was sweeping the gallery, his face hot with his work, his back powdered with dust in the twilight.
The boy rested his broom and stared at the figure standing in the yard.
"Mr. Willie?" he said.
"Yes?"
"Ms Abigail said she thought maybe you was killed."
"I don't know who you are."
"It's me-Tige."
"The drummer boy at Shiloh?"
"Lessen hit's a catfish dressed up in a Tige McGuffy suit."
"What are you doing on my mother's gallery?"
"Cleaning up, taking care of things. I'm staying here. Miss Abby said it was all right."
"Where's my mother?"
A paddle-wheeler, its windows brightly lit, blew its whistle as it approached the drawbridge. "She died, Mr. Willie."
"Died?"
"Last month, in New Orleans. Miss Abby says it was pneumonia," Tige said. He looked away, his hands clenched on the broom handle.
"I think you're confused, Tige. My mother never went to New Orleans. She thought it was crowded and dirty. Why would she go to New Orleans? Where'd you hear all this?"
Willie said, his voice rising. "Miss Abby said the Yanks took your mother's hogs and cows. She thought she could get paid for them 'cause she was from Ireland," Tige said.
"The Yanks don't pay for what they take. Where'd you get that nonsense?"
