pipe with fresh tobacco. “We didn’t sleep out; we spent the night in Jamie Butler’s father’s barn. We made a bed of hay and had a mountain of cover to keep us warm. Yes, we had a fine time. We should try it some time, you know, just you and me? Could be a lot of fun,” Doc Caulder said with a twinkle in his eye.
Blushing and trying not to smile, Mrs. Caulder said, “Mister Caulder, there are young people in our presence, so you’d better watch your tongue.”
Seeing how humorous and youthful Doc Caulder could be at times, Robert and Lucretia smiled at each other.
Rising from his chair, Robert said, “Well, it’s getting late and I’ve got to get the sleigh back, so if you will excuse me, I must be on my way. And, by the way, Doctor, if you two decide to visit the barn tonight, I’ll be in the office in the morning to treat the both of you.”
Little Rock, Mississippi
In the days that followed John’s meeting at the Olliver’s, his parents saw a drastic change in him. Even though he was still dedicated to his work and to the supervision of the farm, he seemed to have a new approach to life. He became more social and optimistic, much more like the person his parents had known before the war: a young man full of dreams and ambition.
On his return from the Olliver’s, John had told his parents the purpose of the meeting and his possible opportunity to represent the county in the state legislature. Even though the group had not officially offered him their support, John felt it would only be a matter of time until he would be asked to qualify.
John’s father, Lott, was somewhat apprehensive about the whole ordeal and showed little enthusiasm about John’s aspirations. Lott had heard talk of an organization that was meeting secretly and, from what he understood, the group was up to no good.
A few mornings later, Lott roused John a little earlier than usual, and after the two had finished their breakfast, he pointed to the jackets hanging on a set of pegs on the wall and said, “Son, we got most of the work done for a spell. I want you to take a walk with me. I want to go to the Big Woods.”
When Lott and his brother, Jake, came into this country as surveyors in the 1830’s they were able to acquire two sections of six hundred and forty acres. Later, Jake had married a Choctaw woman named Hatta and when the Choctaws were forced to leave, some were given land in return for giving up their tribal allegiance. In this way, Hatta’s brother, Minsa, was also granted a section of land. When Jake was murdered, his land naturally went to Hatta, but when she and her brother Minsa decided to move to Oklahoma, they left the land in Lott’s care. Since that time, Lott had not touched a tree or plant in the area and referred to it as the Big Woods.
As they headed down the steps and out onto the yard, John said, “Want me to saddle up the horses?’
Lott shook his head and walking with a slight limp, he headed toward a narrow lane that led to the woods and replied, “We’ll walk this morning. Won’t be too many years ‘till I’ll have to ride. We’ll just walk.”
John hurried to catch up with his father and before long they had crossed their farmland and entered a beautiful and somewhat sacred forest. The ancient long leaf pines seemed to reach their fingers to the sky. Observing the trees closely, John saw where fires and lighting had taken their toll on the giants, but they stood tall and commanding as if they were standing guard against anyone who threatened their existence. Enthralled by their size, John reasoned it would take at least five men, hand in hand, to reach around just one of the trunks.
After a while Lott and John left the hills and made their way down into the swamp bottoms which were covered with masses of hardwoods and, in the damp places near the creeks, ferns and canebrakes still grew in abundance. These trees with their summer canopy of leaves allowed little summer light to filter to the ground thus leaving little undergrowth and miles of openness.
Tiring, Lott motioned for John to help him down a steep bank that led to a trickling brook. Once down, Lott knelt and after cupping his hands together, brought a handful of cold water to his lips. John wasted no time in joining his father.
Then they settled down on a mound of soft moss to rest their backs against the trunk of an old beech tree.
Once entering the forest, John knew that his father seldom spoke. He was their gardener, their keeper. John also knew that he often came to these woods when something was bothering him.
John pulled out his pocketknife and began trimming a small reed of cane into a toothpick. Chewing on the cane produced an unforgettable sweet taste.
“This is something, ain’t it, Son?” Lott said. “God don’t make it any prettier than this. It ain’t changed a lick since before the Choctaws were here.”
Lott pointed to a thick canebrake down to their left. “Them sorry Yankees stole most of our livestock but I’ll tell you one thing, that brake over there sure enough hid a few of our horses and cows. We got to telling them hoodlums about the rattlers down here in the swamp and they decided to leave well enough alone.”
John chuckled, “You ought to have sent ‘em on down here with a prayer the snakes would be out.”
A few moments passed in silence and John sensed that his father had more on his mind than just a discussion of nature.
“Papa, I love to make these walks with you, but is there something on your mind we need to talk about?”
Lott stretched out his legs to relieve a cramp. “You mean it’s that obvious.”
John nodded. “You’re concerned about me thinking about entering the race, ain’t ya?”
“More than concerned, Son. I am somewhat troubled. John, you’re the only son I’ve got left. James Earl died up in Virginia during the war and Thomas deserted when he thought you’d been killed. You remember. He came by here one evening with some more men who had decided to leave the army and said they was headed for Texas, Mexico or somewhere of the sorts. A few days later the army came looking for him and they told me that if they caught them, they was going to string ‘em up. Never heard from him since. Don’t know if he’s dead or alive. Probably dead. So what I’m trying to tell you is that first, you’re needed at home, and second, I have little respect for any politician. Them politicians in Washington and in Richmond started them a war that tore this country apart and took two of my sons from me. It would have been a different story if them bastards had been out there on the firing lines like you and the other boys. I have a feeling that war would have never been sparked.”
John thought for a moment about what his father said, and then carefully replied, “The war cost me far more than you could ever imagine. There are details I haven’t shared with you or mother. When I got home, I found that I had lost the thing I valued the most.”
“You talking about Rebecca, ain’t you, Son?”
John nodded. “The only reason I stayed here in Little Rock was because you needed help with the farm, and I guess I needed the healing power that only you and Mama and the good Lord could give me. I worked day and night for you, not because I loved working that much, but as long as I was busy, my mind tended not to wander.”
John stood up and slowly rolled his neck around to relieve the stiffness. “Papa, the farm is in good shape. We got Andy to help us when we want him and James is chewing at the bits to get into the fields full time. He’s tired of his soldiering, ‘specially
