DEMONS
Prologue:
Memories of the Heart
There are places in the heart that keep memories as
firmly as the mind remembers the images of yesterday. Sometimes in the darkness
of the night, when it was still and quiet, he looked into that secret place
where he kept his most treasured memories. In that safe place, he would reach
in and see her as he had seen all the years they had grown up from childhood
into the blossoming people they would some day become. The anguish that came with
knowing it would never be for her was a pain that he spoke of to no one, not
even those he called his dearest friends. No matter how hard he may try to
explain it, they could never truly understand what it was like for him to lose
her the way he had.
She was not a lover or anyone to whom he could give
his heart in a romantic way but she was just as important to his existence as
the air he breathed and when she had died, all that was good and holy within
him disappeared with her. In that one blinding instant of understanding, he
knew that she was too good for the world and to pass out of its realm into a
better place was more merciful than the death she had deserved. He watched her
die, bleeding her life into the green grass, her face unrecognizable from a
thousand abuses and twisted inside knowing he would have to call the man who
did this to her; master.
It was more than he could stand.
They had drilled God into the minds of all those like
him as if the knowledge of a supreme deity in his heart would lessen the
injustice of his existence. If there was a higher power that deemed that this
was right, then a man could be considered cattle merely because of his skin. He
had prayed to their god and begged as any angry young man would beg when left
no other choice, for there to be miracle that would keep her with him, even for
a second longer.
God had remained silent that night and she who was his
sister, Rebecca, slipped from this world to the next. All Nathan could do when
he saw the light die in her eyes was weep that she was gone from his life and
he would never get her back. No matter how far he searched, no matter how much
freedom he craved. She was lost and gone forever. His grief was well into his
soul that had no ending and as he clutched her lifeless body in his arms,
weeping that she was gone while her blood oozed all over him, the sense was
driven from his world was just one brief moment.
He would never know what possessed him. Whether it was
rage, revenge or the plain weariness of being a slave whose rights equaled to
less than an animal for an animal at least, had the choice of laying with its
own kind and not be forced upon by its master. For the first time in his life,
he crossed the steps that took him to the big house where the master lived. It
was like crossing from one world into a completely new one. It was world of
freedom, of excess, of choice and the fulfilment of
any desire. It was as close to heaven as a slave was allowed to imagine.
He had never reached the master but his defiance cost
him nonetheless. He remembered the laughter as they took him away, the marks
the rope made on his throat as they dragged him out of the house like a fatted
calf being led to the slaughter but he should have known better. Death was too
good for a slave. They strung him up with that same piece of rope and he
remembered the torches burning around him as the laughter ceased and the others
of his kind stared in sorrow and acceptance that this was the way thing had to
be. He had lost a mother who had been brutalized by the way things had to be.
Her one act of defiance had seen his father taken away and sold. He and Rachel
had somehow remained together and the bond of family was all that had kept him
from going insane.
When she was taken from him, the first sting of the
whip hardly registered. Its pain was inconsequential to the great chasm that
had opened up in his soul because she was no more. The second one brought tears
to his eyes but not because of the pain. It was because she was his sister and
while she lived she given him reason to hope, reason to believe that something
good was allowed to exist in his bleak world. The third lash made him grind his
teeth in rage and strengthen him in ways the master could not have anticipated
because he had to be strong now, for she had always been that for him. No
matter how much he despaired and lamented his outcast fate, she would take her
hand in his and smile ever so brightly and tell him that they were outcast
together and thus not outcast at all because outcasts were always alone.
He did not scream but he cried for her through the
agony of his flesh being literally torn from his back. None of it registered
and he drew some satisfaction in knowing that his failure to beg for mercy had
given his master no pleasure in the whipping. They cut him down and let the
others deal with him and still Nathan could think of nothing else but Rebecca
being gone. The woman who tended him had cleaned his wounds, soothed the great
rips in his back and whispered gently in his ears that he was strong and he
would survive.
Nathan knew he was going to survive for the despair
within him had evolved into something else while he lay there on the thin sheet
of bedding that passed for his sleeping place in the slave quarters. It
transformed into a fierce determination to live as no one's creature and should
he die in the pursuit of that dream, then so be it for it was better to die
like a man then live as slave. He was allowed some measure of respite by being
allowed to recover from his injuries after his punishment. He recalled with
disgust hearing the others tell him how lucky that he was to be alive.
Master could had you killed.
No, he could not. For Nathan had come to understand
that too when he was hanging like a slab of meat. To be dead was to escape the
cruel torture of servitude and the master did not want that at all because to
die was to be free and slaves were not meant to know freedom. It was only
allowed when they were too weak and feeble to understand its significance.
Nathan waited no more than a day to escape knowing that they would not believe
him strong enough to move let alone make such a foolhardy quest. However, he
was seventeen years old and he had more bravery than he had brains. Relying on
his mind would come later for now, he had known only one thing.
He was not going to reach eighteen and still have to
call someone master.
No Sir, he was done being anyone's property and if
death was awaited him at the end of the road, Nathan could accept that. For the
god they would have him believe in so mindlessly had no rules to keep him out
of Heaven for being killed in search of freedom. His escape was hardly planned
and certainly clumsy but it got him off the plantation and he kept to the woods.
Each step forward away from the den of his misery was an agony he had to fight
to control as he struggled through the dense forest, his back a mess of raw
flesh open and bleeding.
Eventually the scent of blood brought the dogs but
Nathan kept running. He kept running because he had nothing to lose and that
gave him a valuable edge that kept the slave hunters one step behind. There
were moments when the exhaustion and the delirium of exquisite pain drove all
sense from him and all was left in place of reason was the compulsion to keep
moving. His legs forced the rest of him forward when there was no will left
anywhere else. He ran through rivers, over rocky terrain so sharp and jagged
that his bare feet were cut to ribbons since slaves without shoes could not run
very far and thus not escape. He did not care and so he kept going, moving on
sheer will alone when exhaustion threaten to break him more completely than any
master's whip was capable of doing so.
He had no idea where he was when the exhaustion finally
claimed him, knowing only that he was done and he had run as far as he was
going to go. He could almost accept what would happen to him when they found
him. Nathan had surely expected to die. He knew he wanted to. Rebecca's memory
had driven this far but with his mind descending into the chaos wrought by his
fevered mind, he could no longer remember her and so he was defeated at last.
When Nathan opened his eyes, he found that he was
alive and in the back of a strange wagon. Above him, the stars twinkled
pleasantly with promises of evening calm and twilight peace. The man who sat by
the campfire and had apparently spent five days ridding him of the fever that
would have otherwise killed him, was a preacher. His eyes were older than the
wind but Nathan could only see that he was a white man. Even with the rosary he
was praying when Nathan came to, it was all the young man could see. Colour. In later years, Nathan would feel the intense shame
to know that he had treated the man with no more respect than his master had
judged him less than human.
"You gonna turn me in?" Was Nathan's first
word to the preacher he would come to know as Josiah Sanchez.
Josiah looked at him with those soulful eyes and shook
his head. "Not unless you want me to."
"I ain't gonna go back." He said defiantly,
challenging the man to defy him even though he could barely stand despite the
banishment of the fever.
"You don't have to." Josiah shook his head.
"You ain't in the south no more. We crossed the border into
It was too much to take in. He was aware that he had
crossed over into Kentucky because he had stolen eggs from a farmhouse and
heard enough conversation from the people who lived to know that he was no
longer in Georgia. However, the fugitive existence he had been living had
finally taken its toll upon him not long after and he knew no more after that.
"Is that North?" He asked, not daring to
believe it.
Josiah had nodded. "As north as you can
get."
"Then I'm free." He stated firmly as if
saying it out loud would make it real.
Josiah finally smiled then. "I reckon you
are."
"Why'd you help me?" Nathan looked at him
suspiciously. "You could have turned me in and got a reward. My Master
would have paid you."
"I could have." Josiah agreed. "But its
one thing preaching something and another thing believing it and I don't
believe it was right to send you back. Not even for 30 pieces of silver."
Nathan did not understand. He did not understand why a
white man would help him and further more; he did not understand what 30 pieces
of silver had to do with anything.
"You got kin here?" Nathan asked, suddenly
curious about the man who would risk so much for a runaway slave.
"No," The preacher said lighting his pipe.
"Never been here before so I thought take a look. Besides, there's a war
coming."
"A war?" Nathan's brow furrowed trying to
understand. He was always trying to understand and Josiah was the first person
to not tell him that understanding was not required merely obedience.
"What kind of war?"
"A holy war." Josiah answered. "A war
of dreams and ideas, old ways and new progress, a war about slaves and slave
owners."
Nathan begged Josiah to tell him more and for the next
three months that he remained with the preacher, he learnt to read and write
and he discovered that not all men wearing white skin were evil and not all men
wearing black were good. It was an eye opening experience and he learnt a great
deal from the preacher who apparently had a little difficulty keeping his
temper. Josiah told him stories about people and places further away from the
world he had known and had been trapped for so many years. He discovered he had
a good mind for learning.
When the war that Josiah spoke about finally came,
Nathan and Josiah split company because the preacher understood that they had
different paths to walk and it was time Nathan found his place in the world.
He turned eighteen years old and enlisted in the Union
Army.
And he didn't have call anyone Master.
Part One:
Parenthood
It was supposed to be a simple job for Mary Travis.
At least it was when she first set her mind to do it.
The trunk had been gathering dust for sometime now and she had been telling
herself repeatedly that it could not be left a day longer every time she made
her bed and noticed it.
With Chris out at the saloon with the rest of the
seven and she had a few hours to herself, Mary decided she would finally make
good on the decision to sort through the contents, discarding what was refuse
and doing something definitive as the rest. She had slipped into her work
clothes and produced the nice new box covered in rose patterned paper where she
would keep the more precious items that she came across.
As she pulled the lid open on the heavy trunk and felt
the dust drift into the air, having been shaken loose after experiencing the
dormant existence beneath her bed, she wrinkled her nose at the intrusion of
particles and coughed slightly when some of them entered her lungs. She
realized then just how long the trunk had been hiding where she had secreted
it. It had not been a matter of months but of years, three to be exact. If one
required a specific date, it would have to be approximately two months after
Steven had died.
Even now, the pain was fresh and sharp when she
thought about her husband. She loved Chris Larabee
and would die if he were ever taken from her but they had come to each other
jaded and worn and somehow found something beautiful in their mutual despair.
With Steven, it had been so different. As Mary started shifting through the
things she had hidden away because the memories were too painful to endure, she
had not even noticed when the first tears started running down her pink cheeks.
She saw pictures of them both, not as they were when they were straight laced
and respectable but of a time even more distant in the past.
She remembered cool nights when Steven would tap on
the glass of her bedroom window. He was seventeen years and she was fifteen. If
her father knew that he was out there, poor Steven would not have made it to
eighteen but Mary never cared. She would slip on her dress and they would bolt
across the lawn and escape into the darkness, caring for nothing except that
they were together.
They never behaved anything less than respectable but
Steven had always wanted to show her the world, even if it was just their
corner of it.
Their favourite place was a
creek not too far from his house and they would sit by the bank, watching
fireflies do their luminescent dance to the song of croaking frogs. With the
stars above them, keeping watch over them, they would sit and talk of the
places they would go and whisper dreams that would carry them away forever.
When she went back to that same creek after he died, she saw nothing but a fly
infested bog, full of mosquitoes and crawling things. She stood by the bank
watching its decay with confusion at where the beauty had disappeared until she
realized it was Steven being with her that had made it beautiful.
She never went back there again.
As she studied the pictures of them together, of happy
smiles and possibility etched in their eyes, Mary started crying softly without
even being aware that she was weeping. Her fingers ran gently across the faded
photograph, trying to remember what his skin felt like under her fingertips and
felt fresh tears when the faded visage before her was unable to answer. Steven
made her understand how precious life was, how each moment should never be
squandered but enjoyed like the final sip in cool drink of lemonade. He had
taught her to watch the sunset, to revel in the colours
that dragged the curtain of night in the sun's gradual departure.
She used to watch it after he was gone and like the
creek, realized that him by her side that made it beautiful. She stopped
sitting on the back porch when he was gone and after awhile forgot all together
why she did not do so any more, the further away he faded into the past. Mary
did not remember again until the first time Chris had sat there with her and
she had gazed into the dusk falling around them that she realized that the
beauty had come back. Perhaps, it was at that moment, she knew that Steven was
gone and Chris was the future.
She wiped her tears when her cheeks became too wet and
continued shifting through the photographs, finding the corsage, now withered
and brittle, that he had bought her on their first time to a real dance before
finally arriving at the pictures of him and Billy. Mary stared at those images
of Steven and her Billy, no more than two years then; smiling into the camera
and waving for her because she had gone to Eagle
Mary wept, feeling the loss at this moment more
profoundly than when he had died. She could not understand why she was crying
because she had come to terms with his being gone a long time ago. She had
moved on as she promised him she always would and she had found happiness but
seeing Steven with Billy, knowing that he would never do all those things they
had promised to do together when the children came struck Mary with intense
grief. Her entire body shuddered as she cried harder than she had cried even
when she had first found him lying on the floor of the old house, his blood
running through the floorboards.
"Mary?" Chris hurried into the room and
found her on the floor, sobbing. He had stopped in to say hello when he had
made his way up the stairs and heard the tears he knew could only be for her.
Mary looked up, feeling foolish as she tried to
compose herself. He was at her side in a moment, dropping to his knees so that
he could reach her. No sooner than he was within her reach, Mary buried herself
in his arms and wept.
"What is it?" He asked, genuine alarmed at
this inexplicable show of grief. She did not answer, clinging on to him as she
sobbed and Chris felt helpless, not understanding until his eyes moved to the
trunk and he saw what was within it. Then he understood almost completely and
stopped his question, stroking her hair gently as she released a torrent of
sorrow in memory of the man he could never replace, just as she could never
take Sarah's place in her heart.
"I'm sorry Chris," she stammered after a
moment. "I don't know what came over me." She replied. "I was
just going through this things and it just started."
"Its okay," he whispered softly. "I've
been there too."
He moved her gently up to the bed and they both sat
there, side by side for a spell as Mary took control of herself. Chris let his
eyes moved to the pictures and saw one of Mary and Steven; they could not have
been any more than teenagers.
"That you?" He asked with a bemused smile as
he reached down and picked up the picture. He had not thought it possible that
the mane of golden hair could have been any lighter in colour.
However, in the black and white image of her before him, Chris could tell that
her hair must have been almost flaxen in her youth.
"Yes." She sniffled. "Steven and I were
going to our first dance." She said shyly. "My father was so happy
that someone actually asked me that he went and got one of those photography
devices just to frame the moment. Apparently, he thought I'd never have a beau
because I was so headstrong."
"Really?" He said with a raised brow.
"I can't imagine that."
Mary chuckled slightly and sniffled into a linen
handkerchief she had produced from her pocket. "Steven brought me this
corsage and I had no idea what to do with it until he explained it to me and
then I thought it was very presumptuous of him to assume that I was his girl
just for one dance."
Chris could picture a young Mary Travis giving the
poor young Steven hell and then let his mind drift. "I had to get Buck to
pass my messages to Sarah." He confessed with a smile on his own.
"Ol' Hank wouldn't let me near his daughter. I wanted to ask her to meet
me one day so I got Buck to pass this message to this girl he knew who was
friends with Sarah. I turned up at the meeting place with my best Sunday
clothes and there was her pa with a gun."
Mary giggled, feeling inordinately better. "What
did you do?"
"Ran out of there before he put some buckshot
into me." Chris retorted and was rewarded with another titter of delight
and a smile on her face. With a start, he realized he had not told anyone that
story, not even Buck who never knew the outcome of that particular rendezvous.
Still, it had made Mary smile and that was worth a tiny fragment of his
dignity.
"I've been thinking Chris," she raised her
blue grey eyes to his, a serious note creeping into his voice. "I would
like to bring Billy home permanently. He's been away from me long enough."
"I think that's a good idea." He nodded in
agreement. "Boy should be with his mother." Chris paused a moment and
then asked. "How do you think he'll take to us being together?"
"Billy adores you Chris." Mary said without
hesitation. "I've only ever seen him that happy with his father but
obviously, adjustments will have to be made. I'm through letting someone else
to raise my son. I need him to be with me."
"Okay," Chris replied, perfectly aware how
much she missed Billy when the boy was forced to return to the judge whenever
his school breaks were over. Mary would spend the next day or so pining for him
and it made Chris ached to see her that way. There were times, he had to keep
himself from riding to Eagle Bend and bringing Billy back to her. However, if
Billy Travis was going to make a permanent return to the household then
perhaps, there needed to be some other adjustments made as well. "Maybe we
ought to think about getting married."
Unlike her normal reaction, which was usually to talk
him out of it, there was no argument to that effect this time. She merely
nodded and let out a deep breath before meeting his eyes once again.
"Perhaps we should."
"Really?" Chris was mildly surprised that
she had capitulated so easily. He was perfectly aware that marriage frightened
her a little and had not pressed the issue during the past few months but if
Billy were to come home, then changes would have to be made. For starters, he
could not come and go as he pleased since he was sharing her bed most nights
and he could not imagine staying away from her, stealing secret meetings only
when time allowed for it. He could not stand sleeping without her in his arms
and he loved the scent of her hair in his lungs when he awoke in the morning.
"I think we should set a date." Mary
declared, showing just how serious she was on this point. However, she did not
want to marry Chris simply because Billy was coming home. The past few months
with him had been wonderful, despite the calamities that turned up with regular
frequency. She still could not imagine why they had stayed away from each other
so long in the light of all they had come to mean to one other since admitting
how they felt. Perhaps shifting through Steven's things had reminded her how
truly short life was and it was necessary to grab on with both arms, when true
happiness showed itself.
Like the happiness she felt with Chris Larabee.
"When?" This was one area where he had no
particular reference.
"Preferably before Billy gets home." Mary
answered without having to think twice, giving Chris the impression that she
had pondered this question before this moment.
"Just tell me which church to show up at."
He threw her a grin. "I'll turn up in my best Sunday suit."
"You don't have a Sunday suit any more." She
pointed out.
"That's right," he teased. "I guess
we'll just have to call it off."
Mary merely smiled at him and felt the need to hold
him close. She slipped her arms around his taut body and held him tight as she
relished the sound of his heart beating so close to her ear. Chris wrapped his
arms around her and wondered how he had ever let this widow with her golden
hair so close to him that he could not imagine living without her. At the
moment however, Chris left such questions for another time. All he knew was
Mary wanted to be held and in that, he would always oblige her.
Ezra Standish watched Julia Pemberton swirled the
contents of her coffee cup with her spoon for the dozen time, without saying a
word. They were enjoying a quiet Sunday afternoon, watching the day go by from
her back porch that overlooked a delightful garden she had spent considerable
time and effort cultivating since buying the house. While it seemed overly
manicured with its trimmed hedges and bird feeder, Ezra knew it was a
sentimental gesture that beckoned back to the days when she was socialite from
a world far removed from the one she now inhabited.
It was at her invitation that he shared this afternoon
luncheon and yet she had barely said two words to him since his arrival, nor
had she even touched the food on her plate. Ezra had tried drawing her out of
her self-imposed silence but she seemed determined to be lost in thought while
he made futile attempts at conversation. By the time she had poured them both
coffee, his patience was almost at breaking point. He would have left already
if he had not believed that there was something on her mind that she was having
a great deal of difficulty voicing.
"Well," he said easing back into his chair
because that was far easier than fighting the urge to throw the spoon in her
teacup into the garden, if just to eliminate the sound of metal scrapping
against the porcelain bottom of her cup. "This has been a scintillating afternoon,
you are certainly in rare form today."
He commented, unable to hide the sarcasm from his
voice. " I simply cannot begin to list down which snippet of your witty
repertoire I enjoyed most."
Julia looked up at him, her green eyes meeting his
gaze with a look of intense fear that Ezra immediately felt guilty for making
such a sharp remark.
"I'm sorry." She apologized. "I am a
bit distracted today." She shifted her eyes to the food before her and
winced visibly at the sight of it, before shoving the plate away.
"Julia," he reached across her table and
took her hand in his. Only when he enclosed her tiny palm in his did he realize
that she was shaking. Suddenly, Ezra felt inordinately insensitive; unable to
fathom why she was so afraid but furthermore at his inability to notice any of
it until now. Julia was hardly the most sentimental of women even though she
was feminine in every way. Very little effected her to such a degree and Ezra
wished she would let him in on what that could be so terrible to drive her to
such distraction. "What on earth is the matter?"
Julia swallowed hard; not knowing how to say the words
for the idea was so awful that she was scarcely able to hear herself saying
them. However, she had no choice in the matter. He had a right to know and
perhaps he might have a solution because she certainly did not. Julia had
suspected this terrible possibility for the last two weeks and with each day
that passed, grew more certain that her fears was not unjustified and were the
harbinger of an even worse fate.
Finally, she knew that there was no other way but to
simply tell him and face his reaction, whatever it would be. Julia swallowed
thickly and let the words slip past her throat into his hearing.
"Ezra, I think I'm pregnant."
Considering what she had just told him, Ezra thought
held his poker face quite well. Amazingly enough, instead of descending into a
blind panic or adhering to the little voice in his head that was telling him in
no uncertain terms to pack his bags and start running until he hit the border,
Ezra remained calm and opted for another approach.
"Are you sure?" He asked with a perfectly
calm voice, fully aware that she was watching his reaction very closely.
"Yes," Julia nodded slowly. "I am
late."
Ezra nodded slowly, allowing the full implications of
his statement seeping into his consciousness. In truth, he felt fear. Cold and
sharp like nothing he had ever experienced in his life. It took the air out of
his lungs and compelled him to start running. It was not that he disliked the
possibility that now presented itself. He liked children, enjoyed their company
but in no way did he wish to have any of his own, at least not yet. His
relationship with Julia was relatively new and she hardly seemed to overflow
with maternal instinct. He remembered what his own childhood had been like with
Maude pawning him off on a string of relatives. Julia reminded him a great deal
of Maude, too much as a matter of fact that he would like any child of his own
to endure the same upbringing.
"I don't want it." She said softly, her lips
trembling.
He looked at her and saw that she was about to break
into a thousand pieces but he could offer her no false hope in that regard.
"Julia, I don't see how you can work your way around it."
"There are places." Julia stood up from the
table and walked the wooden porch rail. Because she was unable to look him in
the eye when she said this. She had no idea how he was going to take her
suggestion. Some men may find it a relief while others may abhor such a radical
idea not to mention the moral implications of what she intended. "That
take care of it."
Ezra knew the kind of places she was talking about and
he also knew that these things were performed by half witted butchers who
claimed to have a medical license and usually ended up killing the patient. The
procedures were done in darkened alleys that stunk of drink and urine. He
shuddered just envisioning Julia under ministrations of such men. "I know
the ones." He said softly, understanding the fear in her eyes was real and
was not about to rebuke her for such a suggestion.
If he could feel this incessant pounding in his chest
that was making him so terrified he could hardly speak, whatever could she be
enduring? He stood up and went towards her, slipping his arms around her waist
and drawing her back into his chest, so that he could hold her and let her know
that he was not angry or upset but rather supportive. Ezra felt the sigh of
relief that escaped her when she felt his arms around her and tightened his
grip, trying to will his strength into her.
After a moment however, Ezra made her turn around and
look at him. "Those men are hardly doctors, let alone surgeons. I do not
want you to suffer that." What he did not say was that he could not bear
to lose her if such a procedure when wrong as it was likely to do. Still, there
were not a lot of options left to them other than the most obvious and yet
neither had voiced it. Suddenly, Ezra knew he would have to make the first step
because it was a gentlemen's duty. "Marry me."
"Oh god!" She groaned and broke away from
him at that suggestion. Breathing hard, she drew a few feet away from him and
then began pacing before the wooden floorboards like a caged animal, trapped
and cornered in a snare that had no visible means of escape. At that moment,
Ezra had never seen her looking more vulnerable.
"I should take that as an insult." Ezra
responded, trying not to take offence at her less than delighted response to
his proposal but understood the fear that motivated it. He tried to inject some
humour into the situation hoping he could at least
draw a smile from her. However, judging by the nervous expression in her eyes,
it was not helping.
"I don't want to have it." She stared at him
in nothing less than wide-eyed fear now that she had revealed her terrible
situation. "I'm not ready for children or marriage. I mean I have my
independence for the first time in my life, I'm happy! I can't think of having
children!" She was starting to ramble now and Ezra went to her again
recognizing the seeds of panic in her emerald coloured
eyes.
Wrapping her shoulders with his arms, he held her for
a while knowing that she needed to feel reassurance because she was terribly
afraid and he could share her fears, although he was hardly in the same
predicament. With men it was always simple. He could walk away and never have
to worry about it. There was a time in the past when he was scoundrel enough to
do that but that man was no more. "We do not have a great deal of choices
left to us." Ezra whispered softly.
"I don't accept this." She replied
breathlessly. "There must be a way out."
If there was, Ezra could not see it. He did not wish
to be a father but it was inevitable, he could accept the role. He had no wish
to allow any child to suffer the upbringing he had been forced to endure. No
child should be made to feel that unwanted certainly not one of his own. He
barely knew his father and had no more images of him other than a dapper smile
and the glint of a gold pocket watch. Maude had chosen not to speak very much
about him and so Ezra had gone through his life not knowing what it was to have
a father. He would not wish that uncertainty on any child of his.
"Julia," he made her look at him. "We
will think of something. " He said reassuringly. "I promise you, you
will not endure this alone."
And yet as she stared into this eyes, she could see
nothing but loneliness in the road ahead.
As soon as she had read the contents of the telegram,
Alexandra Styles had started running. She hurried to the infirmary and found
that Nathan was not presiding over his clinic. There had been no criminal
activity of any sort during the past week so the jailhouse was empty. Thus that
meant that the only other place he could be was naturally in the saloon where
all the seven seemed to gravitate whenever they had a spare moment. Normally,
she did not like to go into the establishment because proper women did not
frequent such places but lately she gone in there for so many legitimate
reasons that it hardly mattered to the townsfolk of Four Corners any more.
Besides, the news in her hands could not wait.
She stepped through the bat wing doors and immediately
spotted the group seated around their regular table except for Buck who was
indulging in his favourite past time, flirting with
Inez. The saloon was not very busy so Inez was humoring the big man as he
performed his usual mating dance that would soon be followed by the inevitable
rejection when Inez shot him down with a spirited refusal. Josiah, Vin, Nathan
and J.D. were playing cards and it was the tracker who noticed her first.
He offered her a warm smile as she approached and her
eventual arrival was met with a chorus of greeting from everyone respectively.
"It is time for our ride already?" Vin
asked, certain that he had yet another hour to go before he was meant to call
on her. He glanced at pendulum clock hanging on the wall, with its pitted glass
covering and saw that he was correct in it being too early. Normally on
Sundays, when Alex was not busy with patients, the two of them would ride out
of town and enjoy a lazy afternoon exploring the country. Vin knew Alex enjoyed
getting out of
"No, it isn't. Inez," Alex looked up at the
lady bartender and called out. "How about some champagne!"
"
"Darlin' you don't
drink." Vin pointed out, looking at her with confusion in his eyes.
"I know, " she responded cheerfully,
throwing him one of her more dazzling smiles before turning back to Inez to
reconsider her drinking options. "Okay, sarsaparilla then."
Inez rolled her eyes and returned. "Coming right
up, you reckless thing you."
"Are we celebrating?" Josiah inquired,
exchanging amused glances with the rest of the man at the table over Alex's
unusually exuberant demeanour.
"Yes," Alex grinned simply bursting with
pride. She was very pleased with herself a this moment. "We are definitely
celebrating." She replied and planted a very fierce kiss on Vin's lips.
The men around the table responded with a series of hoots and whistles as the
tracker turned very red before pulling her down on his lap.
"Siddown woman."
He growled with a bashful smile on his face. "What's happened?"
"Nathan, I wrote to the Boston Medical Society
last month." Alex announced and saw the confusion in everyone's face; even
Nathan's himself. "I wrote to them about you. My father has an old friend
on the board of regents at
"You know someone at Harvard?" Josiah
exclaimed.
"What's Harvard?" Buck inquired, unfamiliar
with that particular institution.
"A very fancy school." J.D. answered. One
could not possibly be hail from the big city and not know about that educational
icon.
"Anyway," Alex shook her head from their
distracting chatter and continued with her story. "I asked this old friend
what it would take to have you qualify for a proper medical licence."
Nathan's eyes widened in nothing less than
astonishment. "You did that for me Miss Alex?" He asked, unable to
believe that she would make such inquiries on his behalf to such a prestigious
institution.
"Of course," she shrugged, surprise that he
could even ask such a thing. "Anyway, obviously you're too old to go to
medical school not to mention the cost of it but I convinced them that you are
highly skilled but lacking no certification and he informed me in this
telegram," she waved the crumpled in her hand and continued speaking.
"That if you were to study your brains out for the next year, you can sit
for the equivalency exam next fall."
"Hear that Nathan!" Buck slapped him on the
back with a wide grin. "You gonna be a real doctor!"
"Hold it!" Alex frowned at Buck for
interrupting because there was a little bit more to it than just that. "If
you pass the exam then you'll have to spend the next three years working
closely with me so I can complete your accreditation. However, at the end of
it, you'll sit for another exam and get yourself a legitimate medical degree as
a fully fledged general practitioner!"
"All right!" Nathan practically leapt out of
the chair as Alex rose off Vin's lap to embrace him hard. "I can't believe
you did this for me Miss Alex. I don't know what to say!" He stammered and
finally decided to express his gratitude by twirling her around once before
setting her down, the wide grin on his face a clear indication of how he felt
about the opportunity before him.
"Its what you deserve. Doc." Vin smiled,
inordinately proud of Alex for going to all the effort for Nathan. He slid his
arm around her waist and pulled her down onto his lap once again.
"That's wonderful Nathan." Inez who had come
to the table with Alex's drink, set it down near Vin's own glass of whisky
before giving the healer a warm embrace of her own. "You will make such a
good doctor."
"Doctor Jackson," J.D. laughed easing back
into his chair. "I think it sounds really neat."
"Now hold on," Nathan reminded, not about to
let everything go to his head just yet. "I still got to pass that
exam."
"And put up with her for the next three
years." Vin pointed out and caused Alex to pull his hat down over his face
playfully.
"I can help you study Nathan." J.D. offered
being the only one of the group with the most recent experience of school and
studying.
"Well I can take care of the entertainment at
recess." Buck replied, not willing to be left out of anything. "The
only question is blond or brunette."
"Senor Wilmington," Inez shaking her head
with disapproval. "You are a pig." She said sharply before turning
back to the bar with her skirt flouncing behind her.
"She loves me you know," Buck looked at the
others as he prepared to follow her. "She's fighting it but she does
indeed love me." With that, Buck strode away to continue his afternoon
attempt at winning the hand of the fair but adamant Inez.
"Come by the clinic tomorrow Nathan," Alex
said in the wake of Buck's departure. "I've got most of the books you'll
need for this exam so you can get started on working up some type of study
schedule and believe you will need it. There is hell and then there is studying
to be a doctor. You should see what I had to go through as intern."
"If its anything like what I seen in the field
hospital during the war, it ain't going to frighten me much." Nathan
replied, still feeling euphoric after Alex's statement. Ever since he had
helped his first patient that was all Nathan had ever wanted to be, a doctor.
Not just some back yard quack that might have some skill in mending bones but
an honest to God doctor, with his name on the door and a piece of paper saying
he could heal.
"Wait until you have to do your first
autopsy." Alex remarked with a smile, remembering the experience well.
"It's not the cutting that gets to you, it's the smell of the
formaldehyde."
"Easy ma'am," Josiah responded nudging her
gaze towards J.D. who was visualizing the picture and turning a shade green at
the same time.
"Sorry J.D." Alex apologized. "I keep
forgetting not to talk shop."
"I can take it." J.D. said with great
dignity although he did admit the idea of autopsy or anything to do forensic
medicine did make his stomach quiver. Sure, the young man had seen his share of
bodies but to imagine them on a table, bare with the cause of their death
displayed so clearly while someone started disemboweling it with a knife, did
send shivers down his spine.
"Sure you can." Josiah rolled his eyes with
a resigned expression on his face that told the others not to argue with the
boy.
"Its nice thinking that I'll be a doctor some day
though." Nathan sighed, easing into his chair with a smile of contentment
on his face. "A little country doctor where I get paid in nickels and
dimes."
"Not to mention chickens." Alex pointed out
with a laugh.
"Chickens?" J.D. looked at her.
"Someone paid you in chickens?"
"Yeah?" Alex nodded, "we get paid in
barter all the time."
"That's right." Nathan replied, knowing that
with some people it was necessary to accept payment in currency that was not
cold hard cash. He would have treated them anyway without the money but pride
was a difficult thing to hurdle. Some patients insisted on paying, with
whatever they had. "You don't think I got new curtains in my infirmary
cause I decided to sew them? That was Mrs. Samuels, paying me for fixing her
Becky's teeth."
"Don't forget the jams, preserves and the
pies." She added.
"I knew it was too good to be true." Vin
said wistfully.
"What?" Josiah looked at him.
"That she made all those herself. I thought I
finally had me a woman who could cook." He offered Alex a devilish grin
and she threw him a sarcastic smirk.
"Keep it up and you won't have a woman at
all." She retorted and pulled herself off his lap. "Well gentlemen,
its been fun and you if you're real nice," she glared at Vin. "I'll
see you in awhile." Her lips curled into the barest hint of an affection
smile that Vin returned in kind before she kissed him on the cheek and swept
out of the saloon.
"Now that's a real nice lady." Nathan
grinned, still shell shocked by what Alex had done for him. Since her arrival,
they had been the best of friends ever since she pulled those bullets out of
him that almost ended his life. With the arrival of the doctor in town, Nathan
had thought that his services would no longer be required since most
practitioners were rather territorial but Alex was never like that. She treated
him like an equal and more than that, she treated him like a friend. They were
not only healers but almost family. She reminded him of someone he once knew although
he never voiced that similarity to her or anyone else. Even Rain understood
that their friendship was completely platonic but extremely close. While Alex
was a private person who rarely revealed much of her inner thoughts to people,
Nathan had a deeper sense of her than possibly Vin himself.
"A bit of pain." Vin volunteered even though
he did not at all mean it. He was as close to happy as he had ever been with
his life in
"Sure Vin." Even J.D. knew that he was
lying.
"See," Josiah smiled at the younger man.
"You are learning things already."
Nicholas Serfonteine had no
intention of climbing out of the stagecoach, much less take in the sights of
this utterly panoramic vista of a town that happened to be called
"It looks we shall have to take a slight detour
my dear." He said to his sister, Violet. As siblings went, they did not
look very much unlike. Violet had his mother's dark gold hair and her clear
blue eyes. She was vacuous as most southern women of her day since she was born
after the war and had no memory of those terrible days when the Northern army
had plundered their world.
"Whatever do you mean Nicholas?" She
inquired, staring at him with her doe eyed look, an expression of innocence
that belied what he truly about his sister. Vacuous she might be but there were
dark thoughts running inside that pretty little head.
"The driver has informed me that there is a
problems with the carriage and we will need to stop and have it repaired."
"I had no idea this trip was going to be so
tiresome." She gushed, reaching into her velvet bag and producing a small
lace fan, which she promptly started waving at her supposedly warm face.
"You did want to come." He reminded her. The
West was opening up and Nicholas was wise enough to know that the day of the
plantations in the South was done. To survive, one had to adhere to the
convention of the day, to move beyond the cotton fields into the unexplored
territory of business opportunity. The Serfonteine
family had suffered better than most in the aftermath of the war. This was
mostly his foresight to invest a considerable part of the family's fortune in a
northern bank. Some may have considered this sacrilegious but Nicholas was not
about to be left destitute no matter how things went in the great conflict.
In any case, the end of the war had seen him retaining
enough assets to rebuild his plantation while neighbours
and friends collapsed in defeat to the scavenging of carpetbaggers who bought
their land from under them. Nicholas had survived the war and his family had
prospered despite the indignity of northern rule in his home in the great state
of
"I thought there was some semblance of
civilization in the West, not the primitive sewers we have been forced to
endure." She replied looking out the window at the parched landscape with
clear distaste.
"These primitive sewers are the cornerstones on
which the West will be built, my dear Violet and it is a wise man that takes
part in all that. There is a fortune to be made."
"Oh do stop talking about money," she
replied closing her fan and slipping it back into her purse. "It is so
tiresome when you drone on about such things. A real lady has no use for that
kind of information, I only require that it is there for my use."
Nicholas laughed, pleased that he had raised Violet
the way his mother would have been proud. Elisabeth Serfonteine
had passed on ten years ago. She was already old when Violet was born and the
birth had weakened her considerably. She spent the next ten years after
Violet's arrival bedridden and pining for the way things were and the father
that had fallen on the fields of
Of course, he had his own way of fighting such things
too.
With the emancipation of slaves and former property
strutting around the town he lived as good as you please, Nicholas had no
choice but to take action. He could not see how their current situation was any
better than their ordered existence on the plantation where they were provided
with good honest work and a belly full of food. Instead they were not forced to
scramble for scraps, taking on work that should have gone to decent white
families barely getting by in the wake of Yankee plunder. It infuriated him
when he heard words like 'civil right' and equality when any sane person knew
that the white man was meant to rule and a nigger was just a nigger.
Not that it was just the niggers that were getting
uppity, travelling in the West had been an eye opening experience where he had
seen all kind of racial types polluting the waters so to speak. There were
Mexicans moving up north from the border, Chinamen who inhabited railway lines
like infestations of locusts and rats, growing in number while demanding to be
respected. The abominations seem to escalate with each town he visited, half
breed children running around the place, their odd colouring
revealing the bastardization two species.
Yes, if he did not feel so inclined at the moment to
return home, he would have been tempted to stay and do something about it. It
appeared the West was in need of some decent ethnic values regarding purity of
race and the dangers of contamination.
"This must be it." Violet declared as the
barren landscape of flat, unending plains was quickly replaced by the busy
street of a small town.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Nicholas stared out the
window and saw a town not much different than any other he had seen so far in
the west. Wooden buildings covered in dust, a few stone edifices that marked
itself as government built, generals stores and barber shops with its striped
poles, not to mention the saloons that were a necessary staple of life in this
rugged frontier village.
There was nothing here that Nicholas found surprising
or at all interesting. All he wanted was to find a cool place to sit out the
heat while the stagecoach was repaired. As it was, he had no idea how Violet
was going to stand being in such a place, considering her attention span was
limited to how much she could entertain herself.
"Hardly a charming place." He remarked and
saw from her unhappy expression that she agreed with him wholeheartedly.
"How long are we to remain in this place?"
She asked hoping that it was not very long because could not abide having to
remain here more than a day.
"Until the stage is fixed." Nicholas
retorted as the rumbling in the carriage started to fade away gradually as the
stage came to a stop.
"That cannot be soon enough." She grumbled
and Nicholas had to admit he could not disagree with that assessment.
Nathan and Vin left the saloon together.
Nathan wanted to take a ride out to the Seminole
village to see Rain and tell her the good news. The healer was on such a
euphoric high at the moment, he wanted to share it with the woman he loved. It
was still so hard to believe that a medical degree was within his grasp and it
was no pipe dream. All he had to do was launch into his studies with the same
kind of determination he launched into everything and some day he would be
Doctor Jackson. He liked the sound of that very much.
"So you gonna head out today?" Vin inquired
as the two men walked along the boardwalk together since they were both going
each other's way.
"I think maybe I'll go at dawn tomorrow and
surprise Rain." Nathan grinned. "So that you and Miss Alex can have
your ride in peace this afternoon, in case anything comes up." By that of
course he meant any medical emergencies that might occur in town while she was
with Vin. Since her arrival in town, Nathan and Alex had taken turns covering
for each other whenever the need arose for one of them to leave.
Vin smiled faintly. "Thanks," he replied
quietly and then added, "I'm real glad she did this for you Nathan. Ain't
no one I know who deserves to be a doctor more than you. You saved my skin a
couple times for me to know that you're a born healer. I know Alex thinks so
too."
"That real good of you to say Vin," Nathan
found himself genuinely touched by the admission. "Some people have a
calling," Nathan confessed. "I guess healing folks has always been
mine. Always seemed to have a knack for it."
"It's more than a knack," Vin pointed out as
they saw the stage rumbling into town. "You got a way with people that
makes 'em trust you."
Nathan could not say that he knew exactly what Vin was
talking about but he did know that he had been drawn to healing from the first
moment he had entered the walls of that field hospital during the war. Even
now, the stench of old blood lingered in his memory when he recalled the sight of
uniformed bodies, whether they were blue or grey, stained in blood, their pain
dissolving the cause they had fought and would soon die for as well. They wept,
screamed, argued and prayed but all wearing the same need in their eyes. He had
wandered through the halls that first day, watching the doctors hiding their
own pain behind their eyes for the ones who could not be saved and taking not
enough pleasure from the ones that could.
"Is the stage meant to be in today?" He
asked off-handedly as the carriage thundered past them and came to a halt
outside the Four Corners Hotel.
"I thought it didn't come through here on a
Sunday." Vin replied now that he thought about it.
The stagecoach driver pulled the team of horses to a
standstill before climbing off his perch. Opening the door for the passengers
inside the carriage, a man and a young woman stepped out of the compartment and
surveyed the town with interest and very quickly Vin saw that interest fade into
dismay. Judging from their clothes, they were rich and no doubt came from some
big city with all its excesses. He could see the young lady in a particular
state of dislike.
Obviously,
Nathan could not believe it.
For a moment, he thought his eyes were playing tricks
on him because his astonishment was too complete to accept the other
alternative, that what he was seeing was no illusion and the man stepping out
of the stagecoach was exactly who Nathan believed he was. It had almost been
twenty years in the past but the memories allowed Nathan to recognize the face
just as clearly as if it had been only yesterday. A wave of nausea threatened
to overwhelm the healer as he stared into the face that had been the source of
so many nightmares. How many times had he awaken screaming in the night,
covered in sweat while the lingering memory of that face laughed at his
impotent fury.
"Serfonteine."
Nathan uttered that one word and started walking.
"Who?" The tracker asked but received no
answer.
Vin stared after him in confusion as Nathan strode
across the street, purpose in every forceful step towards the carriage and its
occupants. Instinct forced Vin after Nathan, not knowing why but recognizing
trouble on the horizon by all the hairs on the back of his neck that were
standing on end. There was something in Nathan's voice that Vin had never heard
before and it unsettled him.
Nathan was across the street in no time and it was the
stagecoach driver that saw him first. He had on occasion treated the man who
went by the name of Charlie Burns for injuries incurred during his stage
coaching duties. While the two were not close friends, they were friendly
enough when they came across each other.
"Howdy Nathan." He greeted pleasantly as his
passengers turned at the sound the rapidly approaching footsteps against the
dirt.
Nathan did not answer and as he drew closer to the
man, knew with absolute certainty that he was not wrong in his identification.
This was him, all right. No doubt about it.
Without giving quarter or warning, Nathan literally
pounced on the man and brought him down like a sack of rice, slamming him hard
against the ground. The woman beside him staggered backward and started
screaming.
"Nathan are you crazy!" Charlie shouted as
Nathan grappled with Nicholas Serfonteine on the
ground. The woman had cringed away as Nathan started pummeling the man beneath
him with heavy blows.
"You bastard!" Vin heard Nathan scream as he
went to help Charlie to pull the healer off the stranger. The voice that Nathan
used was unlike anything Vin had ever heard Nathan utter. The intensity of the
hate in it was beyond description and Vin was at a loss to understand what
could inspire such anger, especially from a man as abhorrent of violence as
Nathan. It there was anyone in their group that could be relied upon to keep a
cool head at all times, it was the healer. Yet watching him tear into the man
below him with such brutal rage, Vin knew if he did not stop it soon, Nathan
was going end up killing him.
"Charlie shut that woman up!" Vin snapped as
he brushed past the driver and wrapped his arm around Nathan's arm. A small
crowd had started to form, attracted by the commotion by the time Vin was able
to tear Nathan away from the man. It took almost every ounce of strength the
tracker possessed to wrench Nathan free of the man but somehow he managed.
Nicholas scrambled to his feet, almost as confused as everyone else who was
witnessing the event.
"Nathan take it easy!" Vin tried to reason
with his friend, who was in no mind to hear anything.
"Stay out it Vin!" Nathan fairly snarled and
glared at Vin with look in his eyes that bordered on murder before he started
back towards Nicholas again. However, Vin was not about to let him go any
further than that and slammed the healer into the side of the stage, forcing
his elbow into the man's throat just to get his attention.
"I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!" Vin shouted, staring
hard into Nathan's eyes so that the healer would know that he meant what he was
saying.
"You don't know who that is!" Nathan cried
out almost hysterically. Vin had never seen him like this and frankly it shook
the tracker to the core. The feral rage that Vin saw in his eyes astonished him
and he knew that he was not going to be able to hold Nathan back for long.
"I suggest you keep your nigger under
control!" The man said viciously as he shook the dust from his expensive
clothes and was himself, being restrained by Charlie, who did not want this to
escalate any further than it already had.
Charlie, who also knew Nathan Jackson well and
respected him, was almost as mystified by his behaviour
as Vin Tanner.
"Mister, we don't use that word around
here." Vin snapped angrily, still keeping a firm grip on Nathan who was
struggling to break free of his hold. Vin was using almost every iota of
strength in his body to keep Nathan pinned and was grateful when he saw Ezra
appear.
"What is going on?" The gambler asked
astonished when he saw Vin struggling to restrain Nathan from going after
Nicholas Serfonteine who had calmed down enough for
Charlie to release his hold. Unfortunately, Vin could not say the same for
Nathan. The healer was fighting his grip and Vin was unsure of how much force
he would need to use before he ended up hurting Nathan in his attempt to keep
him at bay.
"Just shut and help me." Vin ordered. Still
confused but understanding the urgency of the situation, Ezra brushed past the
onlookers and helped Vin keep Nathan from doing anything else to exacerbate the
situation. When he came to help, Ezra had not realized how hard a time Vin was
having just keeping Nathan from breaking free. The look on the healer's face
was almost rabid. He was fighting the tracker with every inch of his frenzied
rage.
"Where is the law in this town?" The woman
demanded. "I want this nigger locked up for this unprovoked attack on my
brother!"
"Your brother is nothing but murdering
rapist!" Nathan shouted in fury and produced a ripple of shock and horror
throughout the crowd watching this altercation. Eyes immediately focused on
this stranger of which such heinous crimes had been accused.
Suddenly, the expression in the stranger's face
changed as understanding poured into his eyes with that statement even as the
woman recoiled from Nathan's harsh words. His eyes narrowed as if looking at
Nathan for the first time and the barest hint of a smile curled his lips into a
look of recognition.
"Well, well, if it isn't
"That ain't my name!" Nathan screamed with
renewed vigor that he almost broke free from the combined efforts of Vin and
Ezra to keep him from tearing out the man's throat out with his bare hands.
Both men had seen Nathan set enough bones and dislocated joints to know that
there was enough strength in his hands to do just that. "My name is Nathan!
Nathan Jackson and you ain't my master no more to be calling me that!"
Both Vin and Ezra exchanged glances as they began to
realize why Nathan was acting the way he was.
"Oh shit." Vin muttered under his breath, as
he understood what was the source of all of Nathan's anger. "Mister,"
he turned sharply at the stranger. "I don't know who you are and I really
don't care but it would be best if you got out his face before he does
something that none of us can stop."
"He needs to be locked up," the man said
viciously and just to be spiteful, added with a cruel sneer, "or at least
subject to another good whipping to teach him his place."
That did it.
Whatever control Nathan had remaining, shattered at
that moment. He broke free like a man possessed and lunged at his former master
like a caged animal. He drove the stranger straight into the dirt and pulled
his fist back to begin a fresh beating when his arm was caught from behind
before he could strike the first blow. Nathan turned around sharply to attack
whoever who had dared to stop him when he found him staring into the cold, blue
eyes of Chris Larabee.
"That's enough Nathan." The gunslinger said
with enough of an edge to his voice to penetrate the red haze of anger that had
robbed the most sedate member of his group of all good sense. Chris grip was
strong enough to keep Nathan's fist from making contact with Nicholas Serfonteine's face. "You can't change what happened
like this." Chris replied quietly. "You kill him and you'll only
force us to take you in. Don't do that to us." Chris paused and then
added. "Please."
Nathan swallowed hard because the words had
penetrated, from the only person who might possibly know what he was feeling
although even Chris could not fathom all of it. No white man ever could. He was
shaking when he finally stepped away from the fallen man, never wanting to kill
as much as he did at this moment. However, Chris was right. Murdering this
piece of trash was not going to bring Rebecca back, nothing would.
Unfortunately, Nathan could not let this go.
"This ain't over." He met Chris gaze and
declared in no uncertain terms.
Chris exchanged a worried glance with Vin and Ezra and
knew that he was probably right. This was far from over.