A Journeyman to Grief (35 page)

She shook her head. “No we did not. A Quaker family brought him to us. They were from Ohio and all they could tell us was that his mother was a fugitive, a very young girl who had barely escaped with her life. She had been able to hand the baby over to a minister of God who in turn got him to Mr. and Mrs. Scott. The pastor, alas, died in a fire that was deliberately set when he returned to his church.”

“Will you tell me this child’s name? I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t consider it most important.”

Mrs. Archer hesitated, and he was afraid she would refuse to answer. He knew he could get a warrant to see the records, but he didn’t want to do that. Finally, she slumped a little as if she could read his thoughts.

“I must stress that he himself does not know his parentage. He believes that Mr. and Mrs. Gr –” She stopped and her hand flew to her mouth.

Murdoch finished the sentence for her. “Mr. and Mrs. Green. Elijah was that boy.”

“Yes.”

Now that she’d said it, Murdoch realized what had been nagging at him. Green didn’t look anything like his brother, Lincoln. He was taller, lighter-skinned, with sharper features. And
at the same time, Murdoch recognized who he did, in fact, resemble, he who also had six fingers, hexadactylis: Thomas Talbert.

Both Murdoch and Mrs. Archer heard the sound of footsteps outside in the hall, then the door burst open. A woman stood for a moment on the threshold, then she lifted the revolver she held in her hand and fired straight at Stanley Archer.

CHAPTER
FORTY-FOUR

“T
here you are, Fiddie. Come and sit down, I have something for you.” Lena handed the sepia-coloured daguerreotype to Faith. “I thought you might like this.”

The other woman viewed it suspiciously. “Where’d you get it and why are you giving it to me now?”

“I stole it from the poor old preacher. He’s quite senile, so it wasn’t hard.” She stretched out her hand again. “Please, take the picture.”

Faith slapped her hand away so that the daguerreotype fell to the floor. “I don’t want it. You’re a planning to stay here, ain’t ya? Well, don’t think for one blue second I’m going anywhere without you.”

Lena’s voice was sharp. “Yes, you are, Fiddie. And you’re going tonight. It’s only a matter of time before we’re caught.”

“You didn’t do nothing. It was me. I thought he was goin’ to punch you, father or no father, when I shot him. And I’m sorry, I’ve said I’m sorry.”

Lena stood up, took her cane, and began to walk up and down. They were in the hotel room, the lights burning low. Bursts of laughter came from outside on the lawn where there was some kind of birthday celebration in progress.

“It doesn’t matter any more, Fiddie. You did what you thought was right for me. In fact, I’d say my father died to me a long time ago.”

“He was lying, you know. He was in on the sale just as deep as the other one.”

Lena winced as she made a turn. “Was he, Fiddie? I was starting to believe him.”

Faith was almost yelling. “Well, don’t. He was lying. Do you think he’s going to come right out and say he sold his own daughter? No, he ain’t.”

“There was an expression on his face when he saw me…it was joy.”

“No, it weren’t. It were pure shit fear.”

“Calm yourself, Fiddie. We don’t want the manager knocking at the door. I’ve told you it doesn’t matter to me any more and it doesn’t.”

“Why’d you go to see the preacher man? You crept out as cagey as a white massa coming down to the quarters. You was up to no good. Why’re you speaking so sweet and honeyed about him? ‘Poor old preacher.’ I thought he was the last one for us to do? Did you change your mind?”

“Yes, I have, Fiddie. I’ve had my fill. Believe me, things look different when you’re moving toward death. What seemed of consummate importance once, no longer is that way. Besides, Pastor Archer was kind to me when I was a girl.”

“That’s not what you were saying afore.”

“Wasn’t it? I hardly remember any more.”

Faith glared in exasperation. “That’s mighty convenient. Well, I’se remember. I remember everything you’se said over all these years. ‘First the son, then the father, then the holy one who should a knowed better.’ All those years, we talks about it and we plans and we saves our money till we could come here and eat that sweet meat of revenge. And now you’se waving it away like it were no more special than a mosquito landing on your arm. You says it was nothing when you knows it was everything.”

“Fiddie, please. We mustn’t quarrel now of all times.”

Faith was not placated. “Did you tell this good old preacher man who you were?”

“I didn’t have to. He’s confused in himself. He thought I was my own mother.” She gazed at Faith. “He said that my father was distraught over my disappearance.”

“Any fool can fake that. Ain’t hard at all. So that’s why you’ve gone all soft on me. Cos you think your pappy really cared and tried to find you.”

“The preacher said Pa had lost almost all of his money searching.”

“Well, we didn’t hear of it none, did we?”

“No, and I think that’s because Daniel took it.”

“You’re not getting sorry ’bout him too, are you?”

“No. When he saw me and realized I’d come back, it was as sweet a moment as I’d ever imagined it would be.”

“And he deserved a whipping. He deserved it a lot more than you and me when we got our thirty-nine.”

“I know that, Fiddie, I know that.” She moved to the couch by the window. “Come and sit beside me, dearest.”

“Not until you tell me why you’ve got that look on your face. You’re going to tell me something bad, and I won’t hear it.”

She put her hands over her ears. Lena smiled at her.

“You look twelve years old when you do that. Don’t be silly. Come and sit close to me, one last time.”

“One last time,” Faith shrieked. “I told you I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Well I am. You can’t pretend any more, Fiddie. I am dying. I want to die in the place I was born.”

“That don’t make no sense. You ain’t been here since you was no more than a child. What about our house? You’ll be comfortable there.”

“I know that, dearest. But the fact is, it isn’t safe for you. No, hear me out. My last days on this earth would be unsupportable if I thought that you had been captured and were in jail. I shall say I killed the two of them, but if you are there they will charge you as an accomplice.”

Faith ran over to the wardrobe and dragged out the valise. “We can still get away. We’ve done it before.”

“Fiddie. You’re not listening. I don’t want to run any more.”

“But you’ll need me to look after you.”

“They won’t let you. If we are caught and we surely will be, we will be separated. Come, please, please sit beside me. I cannot go on talking to your back.”

Faith reluctantly turned and went over to sit on the couch. Lena put an arm around her shoulder, drew her close, and began to stroke her hair. “Death is going to separate us anyway, so this is only a little earlier than planned.”

“I’ll die too. I’ll die at the same time.”

Lena kissed the other woman’s forehead. “No, you won’t. If you love me, you will grant me this, Fiddie. You’ve got many years left to live in you. I want to know that you are safe.”

“Safe don’t mean much if you’re in misery. How can I be happy without you? We ain’t bin separated since I first knowed you.”

“You must try. I’ll be with you, just not physically. You’ve survived so much, Fiddie, you can survive this. Please, for my sake.”

Faith stuck out her lower lip. “No, it’s too much to ask. I want to stay with you till you pass.”

Lena lost patience. “But
I
don’t want you to do that. I want you to get your clothes together now and leave. There isn’t much time if you want to catch the last train. You’ve got plenty of money and you can be in New York by tomorrow.”

“What will you do?”

“I’ll wait here. It’s comfortable. I don’t think that detective will be too long finding me out.”

“He don’t suspect anything. He won’t come.”

“If he doesn’t, then I shall send for him. They won’t look too hard for you if they think they’ve already got the killer.”

“I don’t like it, none of it.”

“If you don’t do this for me, I shall come back and haunt you.”

“You can’t haunt somebody who’s already a ghost. What do you think I am, the little pickaninny from the garden still? Well, I ain’t.”

“I know that, my dearest. I know what you feel, but I’m asking you to do this for my sake. I want you to promise to live out your natural life, and you’ll know I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

“Mebbe there ain’t another side. Mebbe this is all we got.”

“Of course it isn’t. I’ll be there and I won’t have any pain any more and I’ll open my arms and take you in them just as before.”

“You and your pretty words.”

Lena straightened up. “You must go, Fiddie. Travel as a man, it’s safer and less conspicuous. Go, my little nigger gal, before I start crying myself. We can’t have two of us blubbering at the same time.”

“Why not, we’ve done it before many a time?”

“Come on, there’s a good girl. Get your things.”

Suddenly, Faith seized Lena’s face between her hands and gazed into her eyes.

“I just told you, I knows you better than my own soul. You still ain’t telling the entire and whole truth. You wants to send me away because you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me for what I done. I shot your pappy just when you were thinking he cared for you. Ain’t that the case, tell me true from your heart.”

“I know you were trying to defend me, Fiddie.”

“But you’re mad ’cos I tied him up in the Stoop when you had run out of there to look at the garden or whatever it was you was doing.”

Lena shrugged. “He was dead. He would not feel it.”

“If it’s not that, what is it, then? There’s something come between us for all your pretty words. I shall go mad if you don’t tell me.”

Gently, Lena removed Faith’s hands. “Nothing is important now except that we part this last time with love for each other. You have been my right hand for so many years. It is not only you who will find it hard to be separated, Fiddie, I will find it agonizing.”

“No, I won’t go anywhere. You ain’t telling me all the truth that’s to tell. You went to that preacher man because you wanted to make sure about Isaiah, didn’t you?”

Lena grew stiff and she looked away. “Why would I do that? I know he died. You told me so.”

“But I always knows you didn’t believe me. Never did. Even after all these years, you thought I was lying to you.”

“No, Fiddie, not lying. Never that. It’s just that I sometimes thought, or hoped, you were mistaken. You never saw his body, after all.”

“I didn’t need to. I sees the church on fire. And I hears later that the preacher was burned to death. I’d given him the babe so I knows he must be dead. I’ve told you this a dozen times.”

“You’re acting jealous and you don’t have to. I was curious, is all. I just wanted to make sure before it was too late that my son had not made it to Toronto as I requested, as you swore to me you told the minister. ‘Take him to Toronto, Canada, and hand him over to Reverend Archer.’”

“I did say that. That’s exactly what I tells the pastor before I runs for my life. If he could have got the child out, he would have. And I ain’t being jealous. Why should I be jealous over somebody who ain’t alive? So, what did the old man tell you?”

“He couldn’t tell me anything. He lives in the past.”

“You’re a liar. He told you s-something and it-it has come between us.” Faith was sobbing so hard she could hardly speak. Finally, Lena reached under the cushion that was on the couch and pulled out a little blue linen jacket.

“He showed me the boxes where he kept his records and mementoes of the children he had saved. There was one labelled
Unknown
, but the date seemed right so I opened it. The jacket I sewed for Ise was in there.” She pointed at the collar. “The place where I’d sewed the paper with his name and my name and the date of his birth, remember?”

Faith nodded sullenly.

“The paper was still there unread and untouched,” Lena continued, “but I knew for certain he had survived.” Tenderly, she picked up the jacket and pressed it against her cheek.

Faith stared at her in horror. “I swear to you – I didn’t…I didn’t know. I thought he died in that fire.”

“When I asked you if you had seen the body, you said you had.”

“No, you are remembering wrong. I said I hears from somebody who told me the minister had been found all burned up and there was a baby’s body there too.”

“But that wasn’t the truth, was it, Fiddie? You preferred it if I believed my child was dead.”

Faith was rocking back and forth and moaning. “I didn’t want you to fret. You – you would’ve wore yourself right out trying to get to him if you thought he was still alive. I thought it better to let him go.” She caught Lena’s hand and kissed it passionately. “Tell me you don’t hate me, darling Lena. I did what I thought was best.”

“Fiddie, I will never hate you. How could I?”

“But when you die, it won’t be me you’ll be thinking of, it’ll be him and how you never knew him. And whether he’s alive now. Won’t it? Tell me the truth, it’ll be him, won’t it?”

“It’s all in the past. It’s too late for regrets.”

“You didn’t answer my question. It’ll be him you thinks about on your deathbed, ain’t it?”

Lena’s eyes were filled with tears. “Yes, Fiddie. In all likelihood, it will be him.”

“So what you’re saying is you ain’t ever going to forgive me.”

Lena sighed. “Yes, I suppose that is what I’m saying.”

CHAPTER
FORTY-FIVE

L
ater, Mrs. Archer swore that the good Lord himself had deflected the bullet. Murdoch thought that God had been assisted by the surprise that the assailant had experienced on seeing Murdoch leaping toward him. Unfortunately, he was detoured by Mrs. Archer’s cry and the necessity of determining the condition of the pastor who had blood pouring from the side of his face. Murdoch just had time to register that the shooter had fled. He ran over to tend to the old man. The bullet had shattered the lamp beside him and shards of glass had cut his scalp and cheek, but otherwise he was unhurt. Minutes later, Fyfer ran into the room and Murdoch was about to berate him for neglecting his duty when he saw that he, too, was bleeding. He had an ugly bruise on his temple.