Part 17 (1/2)
Winston gathered Elijah in his arms and sobbed tears of relief. The joy was short-lived, though, because the water continued to seep its way up into town. James helped Livie and me into the carriage, then called to Winston, ”We gots'ta get on higher ground.”
Winston lifted Elijah back up onto the bench. He looked around anxiously. ”Where's Miz 'Gusta?”
”Don't know,” James shouted above the frantic chorus. In our struggle, we did not see what became of her. We scanned the chaos around us to no avail. James grabbed two sinking men, one white and one black, and tugged them into shallow water. ”We gots'ta move de hosses and carriage befo' it's too late.”
”Miz 'Gusta!” Winston yelled as he climbed up and stood on the driver's bench to get a better view. ”Where you at, Miz 'Gusta?”
Livie went limp in my arms, exhausted. ”I don't want to lose my chile. Do you think my baby drown inside me with all this water?”
”No, Livie,” I said, scrambling to lift the top of the bench seat in the carriage. Aunt Augusta stored quilts inside the hollow seat to safeguard them from dust and rain on their way to market. I took one and wrapped it around Livie to warm her trembling body. ”Your baby is safe inside you. We shall get you to dry land even if I have to carry you there myself.”
I looked for James. He had the banker's wife around the waist and her three young children in tow. When he pulled them far enough to continue the escape on their own, he waded through the water rising halfway up his thigh. ”We gots'ta move now, Winston!”
”Miz 'Gusta,” Winston called out, cupping his hands around his mouth. ”I can't see you. Is you out there?”
Tears filled his eyes as he held his hands to his head. ”Lawd have mercy at the sight befo' me.” His shoulders hunched with defeat as he stepped down to take the reins.
”Here,” a strained voice called out. ”Winston, I am here by the toolshed.” Winston spun around and jumped into the water.
”Go back and ready the hosses, Winston,” James yelled as he pushed his way to where Aunt Augusta, drenched and unrecognizable, was clinging to the top of a doorframe. Her body stretched lengthwise across the surface of the water trying to s.n.a.t.c.h her downstream. Riding the current, James reached her quickly. ”I got her, Winston,” James called. ”I got her.”
Winston reached them and helped free Aunt Augusta's hands, which clenched the frame so tightly it was as though survival instinct nailed them to the wood. Each with an arm around her, the determined men dragged Aunt Augusta from the deep water. The great and mighty Augusta Reynolds was a rag doll in their arms, but they handled her with protective gentleness until she got her feet under her as they reached waist-high water. By the time they lifted her into the carriage, all three were so physically drained, they could not speak.
”Get over here, boy,” a voice demanded from a whirl of splas.h.i.+ng water behind us. ”Come fetch me. My leg is tangled in some chicken wire.” Twitch's nasty bite did not ease even as he thrashed desperately for his life. ”I said, move your lazy haunches over here!”
Neither James nor Winston lifted a head in Twitch's direction. James looked over at Winston, who stared back without a flinch in his expression. Heaving an anxious breath, Winston crawled to the open bench seat and rummaged for a quilt to wrap around Aunt Augusta. ”I best move these horses befo' we sink too deep in de mud.”
James struggled onto his knees, then rested his head against the small mound of Livie's seeded belly. Livie rubbed his wet back and wept softly. After catching his breath, James pressed his hand to Livie's cheek. ”We gonna get you gals up on dry land now. Everybody hold tight, 'cuz the hosses is gonna have to fight dere way outta the muck. Might throw us around a bit.”
”James, you no-good-” Twitch cursed as he gulped and spat the floodwater pus.h.i.+ng him into the splintered remains of a shed. ”Untangle me now!”
James stood as though Twitch's voice was unheard. He jumped down into the water where Winston had already started pulling the team, coaxing their entrenched hooves from the muddied road beneath the floodwaters. The cries of those around us were deafening as the watery a.s.sault continued. If we did not move immediately, we would be washed over by the currents still swirling and s.n.a.t.c.hing victims into its grip. A terrified yelp rose from the water to our left.
”Sweet Jesus, have mercy on an ol' woman,” Mabelle cried as she held to an apple barrel dragged off by the river. Her face, nearly submerged, was slapped over and over again with brown water. ”Save me from de fist of h.e.l.l and deliver me to de Promised Land!”
James ran toward her, but the deep water had become thick with silt, slowing his stride and broadening the distance between them. James dove beneath the surface. ”James!” Livie screamed. There was no sight of him. We all stood and searched the water now peppered with corpses and remnants of an uprooted town. The degree of tragedy unfolded before us. Buildings, livestock, and people swept by. I held tightly to Livie's hand as she screamed for James. Aunt Augusta came and steadied her from the other side. Livie buried her face into my shoulder. Like a rising turtle, James appeared from the dark water and grabbed Mabelle across her breast. He tugged hard and stroked with relentless determination. Mabelle choked and spit up water. The closer James moved her in our direction, the easier it got for her to lift her chin and breathe in the sweet air of salvation. Winston waded out and s.n.a.t.c.hed them each by the collar. To my amazement, he summoned the strength to pull them toward us.
”Toss that worthless blind woman aside and help me!” Twitch screamed as he drifted farther downstream. ”I command you to come for me now, or answer to the whip later.”
We focused our attention on Mabelle. James carried her in his arms and laid her into the carriage. She was weak and disoriented. Aunt Augusta threw a blanket over her. Livie reached for James, his hand bracing Mabelle's shoulder with encouragement. James squeezed Livie's hand as he s.h.i.+vered with exhaustion. ” 'Tain't no time to spare,” he called to Winston. ”Let's move them hosses.”
Elijah scrambled up to the driver's bench and lashed the reins as Winston centered himself between the noses of the two frightened horses, yanking their bridles until they kicked their legs free of muck. At first the carriage rocked unsuccessfully. Then James whacked them on their haunches with enough insistence to drive them in the right direction. They slopped their way through the mire, stumbling and rearing up. Like children watching a footrace, we yelled our encouragement.
”Go, girls!” I cried with the others. ”Pull harder!”
I doubt the frightened horses could hear us above the commotion, but they lunged more fiercely, and with each step gained, the grip of the river loosened. The carriage nudged forward, then with one last powerful surge from the horses, we broke free of the water. Elijah continued to crack the reins as Winston and James stepped back to let the horses run. I never imagined a cloud of dust swirled from a dry road would make me sob with joy, but I was not alone in my tears. Elijah handled the frantic horses with calm expertise learned through years on his father's knee. In spite of his small stature, he guided them to a halt at the livery. Winston and James caught up with us there and moved quickly to secure the horses to the hitching post. Cuts and bruises were had by all, but no serious injuries were apparent, with the exception of Mabelle, who swayed with grogginess brought on by a bulging knot in the center of her forehead. I was the first to speak.
”We must get all of you back to the safety of Hillcrest. Your wounds can be tended to there.” Mud smeared Livie from head to toe, but she appeared unharmed. I pressed my hand to her cheek. ”Are you strong enough to make the trip?”
” 'Tain't the first time I tangled with the river, but I hope to high heaven it be the last,” Livie said with an anxious smirk. ”Every time I think it's gonna swallow me up, it spits me back out again. I is either the luckiest soul alive or the most cursed.”
James climbed into the carriage to put his arm around his shaken wife. ”Livetta, you sure you is not hurt?”
”I am fine, thanks to you and Winston.” Livie s.h.i.+vered into the crook of James' arm. ”We may be a mite thick with mud and bruises, but you held our lives in your hands and never let go. You is a brave man . . .”
”James, you no-good buck!” Twitch sloshed from the water's edge, snarling and limping like a beaten dog. ”I am gonna whip the hide from your bones and feed it to the hogs!”
James climbed down to meet him face-to-face. ”Ma.r.s.e, I was jes' goin' to look fo' you.”
”Nonsense. You went for the ol' woman instead of me,” he screamed, his eyes wild with fury. ”You will pay with your life, as sure as I am standin' here.”
”I didn't see you, Ma.r.s.e,” James said, averting his eyes from Twitch. ”There was so much screamin' and cryin' out, I couldn't make out one voice from t'other.”
Twitch seized James by his torn s.h.i.+rt. ”You lyin' darky. You will sure enough hear my voice loud and clear when I howl at the sight of your dead body hangin' from a tree.”
”That's enough, Twitch.e.l.l.” Aunt Augusta stood on feeble legs, but her jaw was firm with intent. ”None of us saw you or heard your cries for help.”
”I tell you he saw me, Augusta, but he was more concerned about savin' his own kind. He would watch me drown with a smile on his face, then reap the benefit of an easier life with me at the bottom of the river.”
”Nonsense, I say,” she snapped, sounding stronger. ”If what you imply is true, he would have let me drown with you. He saved me and anyone else he could get his hands on. You should be grateful for the breath left in you and not waste it engaged in pointless bellowing. Now unhand him and make yourself useful. There are a great many people around us who need help.”
Twitch obliged by letting go, but not without protest. ”No disrespect, Augusta, but this here is Mooney's buck. He is driven by my whip. Overseein' is my business and n.o.body-”
”Don't dare challenge me, Twitch.e.l.l,” Aunt Augusta said, narrowing her eyes. ”Be gone with you. Time is of the essence in a crisis of this magnitude. Go do some good for someone other than yourself.”
He stepped back, awash with contempt flowing as heavily as the water that dripped from his face, hair, and clothing. He turned to James. ”I won't forget this, boy. You'll pay another day. I never leave a debt uncollected.” His crooked teeth widened into a seething smile to punctuate his antic.i.p.ation. ”Now come on with me. My buckboard sank in the marsh down yonder. You ain't helpin' n.o.body but me. Your duty is to your master.” As James complied and walked away with him, Twitch swung his leg around and kicked James in the hip. James's knees buckled, but he never broke stride or acknowledged the aggressive reminder delivered by his overseer. Twitch shook his wet hair like a mutt caught in a rainstorm, then looked back over his shoulder at Aunt Augusta. His dead eye oozed mucus, in contrast to the renegade glimmer in its counterpart. His message was clear: Aunt Augusta's power no longer intimidated him.
Overcome by a dizzy spell, Aunt Augusta staggered backward. Was it her brush with death or her recognition of Twitch's unleashed danger that caused her to sway from her perch? If not for Livie and me steadying her, she would have toppled from the carriage. She sat for a moment, and with Elijah fanning her with the corner of a quilt, she regained her composure.
”If it suits you, Miz 'Gusta,” Winston said. ”I will have Elijah drive you and these gals back to de big house. I'll stay and do what I can fo' these poor souls struck by de river.”
”I shall stay as well,” I said, giving Winston my hand to help me from the carriage. ”Perhaps I can aid the injured in some small way. Alert Colt to what has happened. With his medical training, I know he will come immediately to a.s.sist in the rescue.”
To my surprise, Aunt Augusta did not forbid me my desire. She looked at me through aged eyes, then nodded her approval to Winston. As they rolled off toward the highlands of Hillcrest, a tremor quaked throughout my body. I wish I could have attributed it to the soaked dress hanging from my limbs or the frigid puddle slos.h.i.+ng in my boots; however, it was an undeniable shudder of vulnerability waking in my consciousness. Aunt Augusta's forceful presence, which often had been oppressive and cause for resentment in my life, also afforded me a great deal of protection. Twitch had torn a hole in my blanket of security, and it chilled me. The time had come for me to grow up and rely on myself, to trust the beliefs seeded in me or chance being swept away by the storm hinted at in the wind that s.h.i.+fted from north to south. I turned away from the retreating carriage to face the overturned world spread before me.
Chapter 25.
The wall of water that pushed downstream after the ice break receded back within the banks of the river. However, the destruction left in its wake was not so easily tamed. Thirty souls drowned or were missing. Most were slaves who worked in the vicinity of the bridge or along the sh.o.r.eline, engaged in the tasks of their masters. A handful of white slave drivers and business owners, including Jeremiah Taft of the gristmill, were mourned as tragic losses. In contrast, the deaths of the enslaved were viewed as mere inconveniences until they could be replaced at the next auction. However, inside the quarters of every plantation bordering Echo Ridge, the loss of dear friends and family members struck a harsh blow. Though spared any direct impact, the population of Mud Run cried out in heartache as word of the dead blazed up the mountain like a wildfire.
I shall never forget the magnificent image of Colt riding down from the hills on his stallion. With saddlebags loaded with bandages, ointments, and other medicinal necessities, Colt leapt from his horse and rushed to take me in his arms. Adversity transformed Colt in my eyes, as well as in those he touched with his healing hands.
”I came as soon as I got word,” he said while carefully checking the cuts and welts on my arms and face.
”My injuries are minor and will fade by week's end,” I said, sinking into the security of his embrace. ”Look around us. There are not many as fortunate.”
”Help us, Colton,” Mac Prentiss called from the lumber mill. ”My wife's arm is broken.” I marveled as Colt took charge of setting up a makes.h.i.+ft infirmary in the schoolhouse, treating the injured who arrived helpless and dazed from the stricken part of town. I stood in awe of his gentle expertise and calming presence in the midst of the uproar.