You could see the gears engaging and the wheels beginning to grind with some effort.
—Bacon, he said.
—Bacon, please? V said.
The boy just glared.
—All right, V said. We’ll try again when you find yourself more composed. Meanwhile enjoy the warmth of the fire we built. By the way, what’s your name?
—None of your damn business what my name is.
V looked back to the women, and one of them said, He’s Elgin.
V said, And what’s your name?
—Belle.
THEY PASSED AND SHARED FOOD, including a bacon biscuit for Elgin, still sulled. He took a bite and stewed awhile and finally spoke up with great pent emotion. He swore that with the death of the Confederacy he would pine down to nothing within a few months and be the last of the Confederate dead.
V said, Elgin, if all you have to say is nonsense, stop talking. While you’ve been here hiding, everything has changed. It’s not the same world out there. You need real plans, not fantasies.
—I heard the government and army are moving to Texas. I might volunteer.
Ryland and Bristol both coughed a laugh.
—I’ve heard that same rumor about Texas, over and over, V said. Nobody sane believes it. The war’s dead and done. Lost. Think of a real plan. Starting with, for example, who holds title to this place?
The boy looked puzzled. He said, How’s that your business?
Belle said, Probably he owns it. His daddy went out on the porch to stop raider trash picking through the leftovers after Sherman’s army. Carrying a shotgun against a half dozen. He didn’t even get one barrel fired before they cut him down.
—And the mother? V said.
—Died first year of the fighting, Belle said.
—Brothers or sisters?
—Nope.
—Son, V said to Elgin, think hard about this place. It’s a real thing, not some theory or philosophy or crazy dream. It could feed all of you.
—I ain’t feeding every stray slave in Georgia. And I ain’t feeding y’all neither.
Ryland—real sarcastic—said, Brother Elgin, correct me if I’m wrong, but ain’t we mostly feeding you? You’re offering us shelter in return. Calm down and consider something. In your position, what would Jesus do? He’d say something about inviting strangers in, about how he loves a cheerful giver.
Elgin stood up and all-fervent said, Probably Jesus would yank you by your neck and then beat you to the ground like a drunk foreman with a long tomato stob. Don’t be talking Jesus to me. Just say Jesus one more time and see what happens. Come on. Say his name.
—You forget, Ryland said, rising to his feet, we’re the ones with guns.
Since everybody else was doing it, Burton stood up too. He had his right hand in his coat pocket. Delrey stayed where he was, leaning against the wall with the shotgun angled half down, watching close.
Bristol kept his seat and regarded the moment.
He said, Ry, maybe sit your ass down and shut your mouth for a whole minute.
Ryland sat. And then the others did too.
Bristol said, Can we leave Jesus alone? He deserves a rest now and then.
When his minute ended Ryland said, I’m curious, Elgin. With all your strong feelings about the Confederacy, how come you weren’t in on the fighting? You’re old enough.
Elgin said, I paid a dirt farmer to take my place, like the law allows.
Ryland said, A study in courage. Mr. Elgin puts his money where his big stupid mouth is.
Bristol laughed, and so did Delrey and V.
Elgin’s face blazed holly-berry red.
Belle said, You have to allow for him. He’s lost so much. Ten years ago on this place, three hundred of us, nearly. Cotton growing to the sky every way you looked. Hog pens and pastures with cows. Lots of cotton, lots of corn and vegetables.
V said, After things settle, the land will still be worth something.
Elgin bristled and said, Who’d be buying? Nobody, that’s who. Nobody’s got money. And whatever happens, I ain’t hoeing cotton. Or beans and corn and collards neither. Or milking cows. I don’t plan to live in a world without slaves. Besides, we made more money breeding slaves to sell than growing cotton. So maybe I’ll go to Brazil where the laws keep making sense. These people here want to think I’m responsible for them, but the truth is purely the other way around.
V looked at Belle, and Belle said, I wet-nursed him from the day he was born until he turned three. It’s hard for me to believe he hates me, and hard to hate him.
—Not hard for me, Ryland said, in a whisper loud enough for everyone to hear.
Elgin said, Shut the hell up.
THE CHILDREN DOZED IN FRONT OF THE FIRE, piled together in a nest of quilts. Except Jimmie Limber, who sat next to V, leaning a shoulder into her hip, a hand on her leg as she rubbed his back, cupped the side of his thin neck in her palm. He watched the freed children intently, and they looked back at him the same way, curious and confused.
Belle said what they were all thinking, Whose baby is he?
—Jimmie’s mine, V said. He favors me a little.
—Hmm? Belle said.
Very quickly Ellen said, Nobody knows who his mother was. We found him taking a whipping on the street in Richmond. So Miss V moved him in with her children. Been living there for a couple of years.
—Polishing their shoes and fetching things? Elgin said. Or more like a pet?
—Not either one, Ellen said. They all slept in the nursery. Played and had classes. All the children together.
—Good Lord, Elgin said. You think you’ve heard every manner of shit there is to hear, and then some crazy bitch comes up with something new.
Ryland rose slowly, eased his pistol out of his belt, and held it down by his leg.
He said, Little man, that kind of talk ain’t at all Christian.
V looked at Burton and Burton looked at Ryland and said very low, We can’t
