The Cottoncrest Curse: A Novel

Chapter 55

195 Chapter 55 Bucky proudly rode at the head, followed by Tee Ray, Forrest, and four other Knights, armed with pistols and rifles, who had decided to ride with Tee Ray. The rest had stayed back to harvest the cane fields. Bucky preened at the way Raifer had treated him once they had gotten to Cottoncrest. Raifer had put him in charge of the posse of sharecroppers . Now the men knew of his importance. They were following him, just as they should. As they headed toward Lamou, Tee Ray had let Bucky ride at the front. Let him think he’s in charge. It didn’t matter as long as they got the Jew. Tee Ray had given instructions to the Knights before Bucky got there. They were to kill the Jew the moment they spotted him. They bore southwest, following the road away from the river and into the swamps. It was just a narrow dirt path barely higher than the surrounding boggy land. Now the hardwoods lined the road. Tall sycamores and oaks and hickory dripping with Spanish moss formed a canopy under which they passed. Thick-leaved vines climbed into the trees on stout brown stalks forming veils that hid the woods beyond. Palmettos , their fan-shaped leaves as wide as a horse’s flank, glistened green in the morning sun that filtered through the verdant woods. The Knights tried to move quietly on their horses, but Étienne, hunting for squirrel, had heard them coming when they were still more than a mile away. By the time they rounded the bend and saw the bayou and the Acadian cottages of Lamou, they were more than expected. Trosclaire Thibodeaux relaxed in his rocking chair on his porch, smoking a pipe. Aimee stayed inside with the children, but Tante Odille sat in the other rocking chair, calmly shelling peas. Bucky quickly surveyed the scene. It seemed quiet enough. Trosclaire was sitting with an old lady who was probably as senile as Little 196 Miss. A young boy and girl—they couldn’t be older than fifteen—were loading up a pirogue, probably for a day of fishing or trading with the Cajuns who lived deep in the swamps in houses accessible only by water. They were putting baskets on top of a large muddy bearskin that was undoubtedly covering a stack of other trading items. No one else was in sight. The dozen or so houses in Lamou were dark and empty of life. Bucky quickly concluded that the rest of the Cajuns were out fishing . These were simple people. They made their living on the water and in the swamps, eating things no one else would eat, doing work no one else would do. This would not take any time at all. “Trosclaire! I’ve got to talk to you.” Talk to them with authority. That was the way to impress them. Tante Odille cackled, taking in Bucky’s elongated face and gangly limbs. “Vilain comme les sept péchés mortels.” “What did the old lady say?” Bucky demanded. “She said,” Trosclaire explained, “just that you must be an important man to head up such a group.” Bucky straightened up in his saddle. This was going exactly as he had planned. Jake, hidden beneath the bearskin in the long cypress pirogue that Jeanne Marie and Étienne were loading, smiled to himself. What Tante Odille said was that Bucky was as ugly as the seven mortal sins. “Well, she’s right! I am important. I’m here on official business. I’m looking for the Jew Peddler.” “You mean Monsieur Gold, the peddler? Is he a Jew? This is strange news. Is that now what you do for the law? Hunt Jews?” Bucky detected a tone of derision in Trosclaire’s voice and didn’t like it. The way to deal with the ignorant was to show them who was boss. Take control in every way. Bucky squinted his eyes in what he knew Trosclaire would take to be a look of imminent danger. Bucky would show Trosclaire he was not to be trifled with. “I don’t need none of your sass! Has he been here? We know he’s traveling in this direction. Tell me where he is, or we’re going to execute a writ of habeas corpus and corpus delicti and fieri facias and search each and every one of your houses!” Bucky said all this forcefully . He knew he could...