“That you, Sammy?”
Easing down the steps Sammy tottered over to where John was saddled and reached up for the reins. “Let me take yore hoss, Mist’ John and yes suh, this is what’s left of Sammy. I ain’t as spry as I used to be.”
Sitting there looking down at the old colored man, John could see that the outcome of the war had changed nothing for the man. As a boy, Sammy was always there to meet him when he rode up. He would ask about his parents, make a comment about the weather, and then lead John’s horse off to the barn where he would feed and water the animal and brush him down before placing him in a stable. Although the war had freed the slaves, here stood Sammy taking the reins.
“You can get down now, Mist’ John. I’ll shore ‘nough take care of yore hoss.”
Hesitating, John said, “Sammy, you know Mister Lincoln freed all of you. Why are you doing the same things for the Ollivers that you did when you were a slave?”
Sammy began to chuckle. “I ain’t no slave no more, Mist’ John. The Ollivers give me a place to live and food for the table and when I needs some clothing, I can go down to Walker’s Store and charge what I needs. I did try to go off but they says that since I didn’t have no job, I have to go back to Mast’ Olliver.”
Surprised by his logic, John said, “Sammy when you were a slave, the Ollivers gave you quarters, fed and clothed you. I can’t see anything’s changed at all for you. Appears to me that you’re still in bondage.”
Not understanding what John really meant, Sammy said, “I just works here, that’s all. By the way, ain’t it shore ‘nough a cold night.”
At that moment, the front door burst open and Suzanne whirled out on the porch and down the steps. Dressed in a black velvet dress with a high-necked white laced blouse and with her long black hair pulled back and pinned behind each ear, she smiled up at John.
For a moment, John sat there mystified.
“You’re late young man. The party is awaiting you.”
With the sound of screeching leather, John brought his right leg over the saddle and effortless dismounted, standing so close to Suzanne that he could feel the warm touch of her breath against his face.
John was dressed in a dark gray woolen suit that had belonged to his older brother who died during the war, and it was a little snug. The tightness of the fit revealed the strong body that John had acquired while laboring in the field, and nothing could have aroused Suzanne more. Not worrying about what Sammy might think, Suzanne reached out and pulled him close as she whispered, “Tonight is going be something special for you and I hope you’ll stay over. I promise you it’ll be worth your while.”
Without thinking, John leaned down and kissed her. “We’ll see. I’m not sure I’m ready for any of your surprises, but I must say you do look enchanting.”
Sammy led the horse away and began to laugh. “I must say you two shore does make a good match, and I thinks ole Sammy better get on to the barn and leave you two be.”
Suzanne took John by the hand and led him up the steps and into the house. “Where is your mother and father? I thought they would be coming.”
John didn’t reply, but thought, you know good and well why they didn’t come. And for our relationship, Mother is apprehensive and Papa knows how difficult it is for a young man to resist the temptations of a beautiful woman.
Walking down the hall toward the parlor, John could hear what seemed to be a large number of men chatting and laughing. He was unable to identify any familiar voice. A haze of tobacco smoke filled the air as he and Suzanne entered and the group stopped talking.
To John’s surprise, Professor Hendon and Frank were sitting over near the fireplace having an evening smoke and next to Frank, John recognized Daniel McWorthan from the Hickory meeting. At his left was a short, well-dressed man in his late fifties standing next to the roughest looking man John had ever seen. The man was taller than John and was dressed in a brown cotton shirt with black trousers tucked into his knee length boots. He wore red suspenders that pulled his pants high above his waist line, making him appear even taller. The man’s hair was combed and greased straight back revealing a wide scar that began above his left ear and ran down across his cheek to his nose.
Frank quickly got out of his chair, walked over to John and Suzanne and extended his hand. “Good to see you John. I’m glad you made it. There’s some folks here I want you to meet.”
Frank was dressed in his best for the evening. He wore a light beige suit with a ruffled brown shirt and dark brown tie. He stood slightly taller than John with long well groomed hair combed straight back. He was clean-shaven and thin and still appeared younger than his age. Even with a somewhat feminine appearance, Frank was unusually handsome.
John could think of no reason why he would be meeting with such an unusual group of men. Glancing over at Suzanne, he felt she must be behind whatever was going on and he became very uncomfortable.
Motioning John in, Frank began to make introductions. “Gentleman, this is John Wilson, the man we’ve been telling you about. Of course you know the Professor.”
Hendon nodded and a wide smile crossed his face as he extended his hand.
“And I think you remember Mister McWorthan from over at Meridian,” Frank continued.
McWorthan carefully examined John with the care of an officer inspecting his troops and then reached with the weakest handshake John could ever remember. Thinking back to his father words, “A hardy handshake reveals a man’s inner strength,” John became suspicious.
But John cordially shook his hand and replied, “I remember seeing you at the meeting.”
Putting down a glass of whiskey and not waiting for Frank’s introduction, a well-dressed man walked toward John and handed him a full glass of whiskey. “I’m Jasper Sikes from Jackson and to answer that blank expression on your face, you might say I’m the head of the Democratic Party here in Miss’sippi. And young man I’ve been anxious to meet you.”
Stunned, John took the glass and reached out to clasp his hand. “Sir, I don’t know what you’ve heard and I surely don’t even know why I’m here tonight. This isn’t my normal kind of party. I think we could use more female companions.”
With that, the group began to laugh, and even the solemn man with the scar smiled.
“Yes sir, Frank,” Sikes laughed. “The man don’t even know why we wanted to meet him. Mister Wilson, you do have a sense of humor, and I guess you can say, you might have wandered into your own destiny tonight. By the way, this here is Herschel Pierce. Ain’t he one ugly son-of-a-bitch.”
Herschel, rubbing his short scraggly beard, made no effort to shake John’s hand. He just stood there with a face as cold as steel and glared straight at him.
Finally he said, “I could see you staring at me when you come in. The scar got yore attention, didn’t it. Ugly ain’t it. You know what caused it?”
John pushed his hair back revealing a large scar across the side of his head and replied, “Same place I got this one. Some blue bellied Yankee cut you?”
The man nodded and a slight smile came across
