The Return of the Freedom Thief Page 13

  Ben pushed the money towards the barkeep. “Look, it’s all there. There’s thirty cents for the eggs and bacon, and these ten pennies are for coffee and bread for each of us. We’re not going to steal anything, we just want something to eat.”

  The man grabbed the money from the counter, and motioned them away. “Go find a table or somewheres to eat. Can’t eat here, this here’s reserved for men. You,” he nodded at Puck, “you be a girl, so you’se better just sit yourself down in a dark corner and behave.” He scowled at Ben. “Iffen you her brother, best take care of her outside these kinda places.” He waved a dirty rag he was holding towards the back of the tavern. “This ain’t no place for a female young’un.”

  Without another word, he walked back into the kitchen.

  Ben stared after him, shook his head, and motioned towards the back of the room. “It looks like one of the tables back there is empty, so let’s go sit.”

  Before long, an old man with a crooked back, a prominent crooked nose, and a heavy, crooked walking stick approached them. In his free hand, he somehow managed to balance a tray with two plates of eggs, bacon, and bread, and two large mugs of steaming coffee.

  Ben got up to help him, but when he saw two full plates, he said, “Oh no, this isn’t for us. We only paid for one plate of eggs and bacon. We’ll just take one plate and both coffees.”

  The old man slid the tray down on the table, ignoring Ben. He grumbled in a hoarse voice, “Ye’ll take what I gives ye. The master says take two plates to them young’uns, so I takes two plates, and there they is. Ye don’t wanta et ‘em both, no skin offen my nose.”

  He turned and shuffled off, muttering under his breath.

  Ben shrugged, and sat down to eat. Puck had already started on one plate, and was shoving the food into her mouth as fast as possible. As the aroma of fried eggs, bacon, and warm bread wafted up from the plates, Ben’s stomach growled loudly. He grabbed a fork and began to eat, forgetting most of his table manners in the process.

  * * *

  The sun was resting low in the sky, and had lost much of its heat. Still, the air was warm and muggy, as Ben and Puck slowed their horses down to a walk. Puck wiped her face with her arm.

  “Ben, how much farther is this town we’re supposed to be in? We’ve been riding for hours, and there’s nothing to see but this road and woods on both side. I’m getting tired.”

  “I don’t know, Puck. I’ve never been past the Kentucky border in my life. Mister Taylor showed me this road on the map, and said to stay on it until we got there. That’s all I know. If you’re going to ride with me, you can’t just stop any time you want. We have…”

  Ben was interrupted by the sound of horses’ hooves pounding the road behind them. A moment later and they were surrounded by a group of Confederate soldiers. Ben recognized a couple of them from the tavern where they had eaten earlier. Unfortunately, he and Puck were also recognized by the soldiers.

  “Hey, it’s them kids from Carl’s place.”

  “Yeah, where you kids going, anyway?”

  “Why don’t you just pull up now, and let us inspect what you got in them saddlebags?” The soldier who said this reached out and yanked the reins out of Puck’s hands. “You just stop for now, little missy, and we’ll see what’s what here.” He pulled Bandit to a stop, ignoring Puck’s feeble attempts to grab her reins back.

  Ben reined in Socks. “What in tarnation do you think you’re doing? You’ve got no right to stop us or go through our saddlebags. We’re traveling, we’ve lost our parents, and we’re trying to get to some relatives. That’s my little sister you’ve got your hands on. Just leave her alone. Leave us both alone, we don’t have any money or anything you’d want. We’re not hurting you, so just let us get on our way.”

  His outburst startled the soldier who had pulled the reins out of Puck’s hands, and now she was crying. Her sobs got louder and louder, as they developed in eerie howls. The men all stopped talking at once, and one of them said, “Bloody hell, Buck, now see what you’ve done. She’s just a kid, and now you’ve scared her so much she’s crying.”

  “Crying my foot, she sounds like a banshee. Never heard no woman cry like that.” Even the horses were moving restlessly, as the sounds coming from Puck disturbed them.

  Another soldier broke in, saying, “Yeah, come on, leave her alone, Buck. Let’s just get the hell out of here. They don’t have anything, and if we’re late getting back to camp, we’re all in big trouble. You can stay here if you want, but I’m getting on back.” With that, he spurred his horse and galloped down the road.

  The rest of the soldiers must have agreed, as without another word, they were all gone in a cloud of dust. The remaining soldier handed the reins back to the still sobbing Puck, and muttered, “If I see you again, things are gonna be different. Don’t you forget that, little girl.”

  He dug his boots into his horse’s side, and raced to catch up with his comrades.

  It took only a minute for the cloud of dust to dissipate, and the horses could no longer be seen. Immediately, Puck stopped the howling. Ben looked at her, and saw that her face was dry, and so were her eyes. She had not shed a tear.

  “Puck, what in the…”

  She laughed. “I learned how to do that when I was a little girl. The parents ignored me most of the time, and were mean to me the rest. When I would howl that way, they thought I was cursed or something, so they would leave me alone. If it worked with them, I knew it would work with a bunch of soldiers who don’t know anything.”

  Ben’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He just sat there, and stared at her. Who is this girl, anyway? I never in my life heard sounds like that come from a human.

  “Ben, it’s okay. I’m not weird or anything. Look, let’s get moving again, and I’ll tell you a story along the way.” She picked up the reins, and Bandit moved out at a walk.

  Ben caught up with her, and for a few minutes, rode in silence beside her. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, but didn’t speak.

  After a while, Ben said, “Okay, what is this story you were going to tell me?”

  She spoke quietly, just barely heard above the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves on the dirt road. “The parents never wanted children, I’m sure. They were always too busy with their plantation and their businesses in town. I grew up with a succession of nursemaids and governesses looking after me. The only time the parents gave me any attention was if they saw me outside, and immediately thought I was doing something I shouldn’t be doing. The father would pick me up, throw me down on a chair or some place, and then he beat me with a small whip. They never talked to me, or even bothered to ask what I was doing.”

  “But if you had to stay inside all the time, how did you learn to ride, and to do all the things you do, like tie those soldiers up?”

  “I learned a lot from the books I read. There was a library in the house, and no one around to tell me I couldn’t read, so after my nursemaid taught me the alphabet, I taught myself how to read. There were all kinds of books, but I mostly read the ones that teach something. It’s how I learned to shoot a gun, too. When the parents were busy in town, I had one governess who knew about horses, and she taught me to ride, to saddle up, everything. She’s even the one who taught me how to make that howling sound. Her name was Rose, and I really loved her.”

  Ben saw a tear trickle down her cheek. “What happened to Rose? Was she still with you when you ran away?”

  Puck sniffed, and rubbed her nose on her sleeve. “No, that’s why I ran. The father caught us in the barn, while we were unsaddling the horses after a ride. The parents came home early, and when the father saw what was happening, he threw Rose on the ground and beat her with a bullwhip. He started after me, and I started howling. He gave me a mean look and ran out of the barn. He slammed the doors shut, and I heard him locking them. He yelled at me that I was a demon and could stay with Rose forever.”

  “Was that when you ran? And what happened to Rose?
”

  “The father killed her. She was really hurt bad from the beating. We stayed in the barn all night, and when he came in the morning, he had his pistol with him. Rose couldn’t get up, she couldn’t defend herself. He shot her. He kept on shooting her until the gun was empty. He started after me, but I picked up the bullwhip and swung it at him. I didn’t think it would even hit him, but it did, right across the face. I think it put his eye out, but I’m not sure. I just saw blood running down his face. He screamed and ran back out of the barn. I got up and ran.”

  The longer she talked, the angrier her voice became, until she started crying quietly, tears running freely down her face. Ben slowed Socks down, dug through his pockets, and came up with a rather dusty handkerchief. He handed it to her, and said, “Puck, I’m so sorry. Can I ask you something?”

  She blew her nose, wiped her eyes, and handed the handkerchief back to him. “Yeah, what?”

  “You called them ‘the’ parents, ‘the’ father. What’s that all about?”

  “I’m not stupid, Ben. Just because I grew up the way I did doesn’t mean I don’t know how parents are supposed to act with their children. Those people aren’t my parents. They’re just a man and woman who had a baby, and threw it away. Now you know the story of my life, so can we just forget the whole thing and get on to this bughill we’re supposed to find?” She spurred her horse, and galloped away from Ben.

  He caught up with her, and said, “Well, first off, I don’t think Broomville is a bughill, but I guess we’ll see. And yeah, I won’t ask you anything more about your, uh, I mean, those people. Let’s just slow the horses a bit, and take it easy for a while.” He reined in Socks to a slow canter, and didn’t attempt to catch Puck when she galloped past him. He knew what it had cost her to tell him what she did, and he figured she needed a little time to get herself under control. He continued his slow canter, and a short time later, saw her waiting for him down the road. He didn’t speak as he rode up to her, nor did she. She gathered Bandit into his gait, and she and Ben cantered on together.

  * * *

  Dusk was setting in when they topped a hill, and saw the town below them. Broomville lay spread out on both sides of a railroad bisecting the middle. On the one side, stores, saloons, taverns, and one hotel were lit with both lanterns and oil lamps. On the other side, the one closest to Ben and Puck, the straggly line of buildings had only candles and lanterns showing. As they rode down into the town, they passed through what was obviously the ‘bad’ part. The buildings were all of wood, some partially falling down, others with doors off the hinges, some with boarded up windows, yet all seemed to still be doing some kind of business. Most of the foot traffic belonged to men, as shabbily dressed as the shops they were going into. A few scantily dressed women hung out of upper story windows, flaunting their wares for whoever might be interested.

  Puck shuddered. “I don’t aim to stay anywhere near here, Ben. We can bed down on the other side of town, right?”

  He laughed. “Well, as long as you don’t have some high-falutin ideas about where we bed down. We don’t have any money, remember?”

  She scowled. “You don’t have to remind me, my stomach is already doing that.”

  The horses clip-clopped over the rails, and a moment later, they were on the main street of Broomville. They walked slowly down Main Street, taking in all the stores and shops. On this side of the railroad tracks, the buildings were mostly brick, with shiny glass windows. Some of the smaller shops were built of heavy logs, packed with adobe, and swept clean of spiders, insects, and tiny pieces of wood splintering off from the logs. They passed a large hotel, with a saloon on the lower level, packed with Confederate soldiers. The General Store, Adam Johnson, Proprietor, was next to the hotel, and next door was another saloon. Sam’s Saloon boasted whiskey for ten cents a glass, or twenty-five cents for a “true shot.” Sam also proclaimed he had the ‘prettiest girlies’ in town, as well as the most ‘respectable.’ Next to Sam’s was Miss Virginia’s Eatery, with a bold Bill of Fare posted near the door. They passed Bubba’s Hardware, Simon the Blacksmith, and Henry’s Livery Stable.

  At the end of Main Street, the Congregational Church rose up pure white against the darkening sky. From there, two more streets angled off from Main, and they could see homes and barns in the distance.

  Ben reined Socks to a stop. “Well, we’re supposed to stay in town for a few days, and hobnob with the Rebs as much as we can. I reckon we’d best be finding a place to stay.”

  Puck looked at him in astonishment. “A place to stay? That’s just hunky dory, Ben. Where we going to get money when we don’t have any?”

  He grinned. “I have a secret stash. Mistress Fenaway hid some money in the envelope she gave me, and when Mister Taylor handed me the papers to put in the satchel, he had some money in them, too. I don’t know how much. I haven’t counted it. I just put it all in the bottom of one of the saddlebags. I don’t want to use it except when we have to, but I guess this is when we have to.”

  Puck gave him a disgusted look. “You could’ve told me. I wasn’t going to steal it, you know.”

  Once again, the petulance was on her face and in her voice.

  Ben was impatient. “Aw, for crying in a bucket, Puck. I know you’re not going to steal it. I just wanted to keep quiet about it until we had to use it. Quit being such a baby.”

  “You just hush your mouth. I’m not a baby. You’ve got no call to not trust me.”

  He sighed, and turned his horse back in the direction of town. “I’m not going to fuss with you about it, so button your lip. I’m going to find us a place to stay. You coming, or not?”

  She rode up beside him, and remained silent as they rode through the town. Night had fallen, and the town was busy with nighttime activity. Horses and carriages vied for space on the wide street, and rowdy laughter could be heard up and down the length of the town.

  Ben turned Socks at the end of Main Street to walk over the railroad tracks. Puck stopped Bandit, and refused to move.

  “Ben, where you going?”

  “I told you, I’m going to find us a place to stay. We have to stay over here, Puck, that’s all there is to it. I don’t know how much money I have, but it has to last for a long time. We can’t stay in some uppity hotel, so get that off your mind.”

  He picked up the reins and Socks moved out, crossed over the tracks. Puck remained stubbornly on the other side. “I’m not sleeping over there. I’m not.”

  Ben nodded and kept Socks moving. He said over his shoulder, “Fine, do whatever you want. Just be careful where you bed down. I reckon I’ll find you in the morning.”

  He was walking Socks slowly down the rough gravel road when he heard Bandit come up behind him, and Puck mumble, “All right, I reckon I’ll sleep wherever you say. But I won’t like it.” He ignored her, and continued looking at the rundown shops, little more than shacks, that lined the street. The street which had no name, he noticed. He saw a few signs, most of them offering the kinds of services he had no thought of accepting, like Madam Marie’s Magical Massages, Get One and Sleep for Free. Another one read Lacie’s Ladies of the Evening, $.75 to $1.25 per hour, Drinks Included.

  After riding down the entire street, Ben turned Socks down a short side street, and stopped in front of a small wooden building. It didn’t seem to be falling down, as the others were, and the sign looked to be newly painted. It read “Buster’s Small Hotel.” Under that were the captions: Rooms Men $2.25 per day Women $1.75 per day Supper Included Baths Extra.

  He dismounted, tied Socks to the hitching rail, and took the saddle bags off the back of his saddle. Turning to Puck, he said, “This is where I’m bedding down. You coming, or not?”

  She didn’t respond, but slid down from Bandit and tied him up. They stepped up onto the front porch, lit by lanterns on each side of the front door. Ben opened the door into a small parlor. On the left side of the room was a counter, with an older man behind it. He greeted them with a half w
ave. “Good evening, can I help you?”

  Ben smiled. “I hope so, sir. We’d like two rooms, one for me and one for my sister here. We can pay for two or three days up front.”

  The man held out his hand. “I’m Buster. My wife Alice and I own this place. But we’ve only got one room left, young fella. It’s got two beds, but that’s all I can offer.”

  Ben shook his hand. “If that’s all you’ve got, we’ll take it.” He heard a protest from Puck standing behind him, but he ignored her. “We’ve got horses outside. Is there someplace we can put them for the night?”

  Buster nodded. “There’s a barn back there.” He gestured behind him. “You can throw them some hay, and there’s water in a barrel. Only one stall left, so they’ll have to get along. Oh, and that’s an extra forty cents a day for each of them. Includes hay and water.”

  “That’s okay. Can you show us to the room, and then I’ll bed the horses.”

  Buster handed a lantern to Ben. “Just go down that hall right there to the end, room’s on the left. It’s number eight. Here’s some matches, there’s two lamps in the room. Oh, that’s another five cents for the matches. You put your things up, bed down the horses, and we’ll settle up the bill.”

  Ben nodded. “Be right back.” He picked up the saddlebags, and strode down the hallway, with Puck following him. He could hear her muttering to herself, but he didn’t respond.

  The door to number eight opened into a small but seemingly clean room. Ben lit the two lamps, and saw two beds, one rocking chair sitting beside a small round table, another straight chair, some large hooks on the wall, and one window with dark curtains drawn across it. Another curtain was drawn across a small section of the far wall. Puck immediately claimed the bed closest to the window, dropped her knapsack on the floor, and fell across the bed. She squirmed around a bit, and announced, “Hey, this feels pretty good.”