Natashia Deon: Grace

SISSY ROCKS IN her chair, not talking to nobody, the children play coin roll on the floor and Jackson’s holding the bread above Josey’s head making her leap for it, laughing.

I circle the room, don’t know what to do. I can stay here and do my best to protect mine, or go out and face that pack and maybe stop one of ’em. I cain’t be everywhere at once.

Rachel gets up and asks Josey if she can scrape the skin off a potato for the stew. Josey rolls one to Rachel and says, “Let me show you how to slice it off without losing too much.”

Squiggy swats an onion off the table to the floor and chases it while Jackson puts salt and pepper in a pot of water on the stove. He tastes the broth, adds a last bit of chopped garlic. Tastes it. “That’s what it needs more of,” he say, wiping his hands down his shirt.

“So you’re a regular cook now?” Josey laugh.

“You just watch my pot,” he say, smiling. He kisses her on the way to the door. “You’ll see what a fresh clove’ll do.”

Jackson opens the front door, stops when he sees the soldiers emerge from the tree line three hundred yards away. They’re on top of their horses, swaying toward us. Colonel’s up front.

Jackson slams the door closed, locks it.

“What’s wrong?” Josey say.

“We gotta get outta here,” Jackson say, frantic. “Right now. All us. We got to go.”

Sissy sits up.

He pushes Josey and the babies to the back of the house. “Come on, Momma,” he say. “Open this pantry.”

Hearing the tone in his voice, Sissy takes the key and its chain from around her neck and gives it to Jackson. He unlocks the door, throws it open, and they all crowd inside. All but Sissy. He lifts the toilet seat cover and the smell of the rotten food they’ve been pitching down the hole wafts up. He moves the whole seat over.

“Go on!” Jackson say to Josey.

Josey sits on the floor and lowers herself down the hole, standing on rot. She reaches up for her children.

Jackson lifts Squiggy first and fumbles him down the hole to Josey’s waiting arms. He grabs for Rachel.

“Daddy, I don’t want to go down there,” she say. “It’s dark.”

“There ain’t nothin to be afraid of, baby.” He puts his hands around her waist.

“And it stank,” she say. “Daddy, I don’t want to go.”

He lifts her. “Nothin to be afraid of. Your momma’s right there. And Squiggy.” He eases her down.

“No, I don’t want to go!” she cries. Kicking now.

“Just help her down,” Josey say.

But Rachel climbs over his shoulder, digging her feet in his stomach, stepping up him, falling over him, screaming, her face red and sweaty now. He yanks her away from his shoulder like a kitten caught on a blouse, but she keeps screaming, scratching, her teeth clinched, her face shaking. Jackson stuffs her down the hole with her legs in splits. Josey pulls Rachel through the rest of the way, holds her arms, puts her hand over Rachel’s mouth.

“Go!” Jackson say. “Back to the old slave quarters.”

Josey hesitates.

“I know. . I know,” he say as calm as he can, apologizing. “I know it’s hard for you to go through them woods but you got to. For our children. For me.”

Josey takes Squiggy’s hand and carries Rachel, running with ’em toward the unfinished trail.

Jackson turns to Sissy who stands at the cupboard opening. “All right. Come on, Momma. I’m gon’ lower you down and we gon’ go together. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

Sissy backs away.

“Momma, we gotta hurry.”

“Why? For what, Jackson?”

“There’s soldiers coming.”

“None of us did nothing wrong.”

“Men like them only mean to harm.”

“To you? You a deserter, Jackson?”

“You got to trust me, Momma. These cavalry men.”

“Nobody makes me leave my house,” Sissy say, and takes another step back.

“Momma, I promised you I wouldn’t leave you again. And I won’t leave you here.”

“Cain’t you?” she say. “You got a new family now. Don’t need me. You just gon’ throw me out like I’ve always been thrown out. I shoulda taught you better, Jackson. .”

“Momma, please.” He reaches out for her arm, pulls at her.

Knocks burst at the front door. Jackson’s eyes widen. “Momma! We got to get outta here.”

Sissy takes a step toward Jackson, pushes him hard into the cupboard. He stumbles all the way back to the hole in the floor, one of his legs fall through.

Sissy shuts the door as he fights his way back up. She locks it from the outside before he can get to it. It’s too late for him to turn it open now. He hunches down inside the door, looking through the key hole. “Momma?” She turns her back to him and shuffles to the front door.

CYNTHIA SPINS HER pistol’s barrel; the single bullet inside is lost now. The other bullets that were on the bar top roll across the counter and one falls on the wood floor, thuds when it hits — my signal to get across this room and out the door. When the chamber stops, Cynthia lays her head on the side of the pistol like it’s a pillow. A hush falls over the room.

“Put the gun down, Cynthia,” Bobby Lee say.

“Or what?” she say. “You gon’ shoot me, Bobby Lee?”

“I can’t let you hurt nobody,” Bobby Lee say.

“What is this game?” Ray say.

“I call it, ‘Who’s The Asshole?’” Cynthia say.

Ray laughs. His noisemaking gives me the cover I need to take my first step.

I stick my foot out toward the plank closest to me and hold my belly for balance, touch my big toe to it, slowly lean forward, and ease my weight on it. Slow. . slow. . the squeak is loud. Only twelve, thirteen, fourteen steps to the side door.

The front door in the saloon swings open and Henry comes barging back in. “What the hell’s goin on in here?”

“She gon’ shoot her brains out!” Ray say.

Henry rushes over, happy to see.

The board squeaks under me and the men look down. I hold still and Cynthia croons. “Just in time, Henry. You love games, too.”

Bobby Lee say, “Just put the gun down, Cynthia.”

“It’s just a game, right, Bobby Lee? Just a job?” she say. “Surely, you of all people have nothing against it.”

“Come on, Cynthia,” Bobby Lee say. “You ain’t faster than a bullet.”

“Yours or mine?” she say. “I ain’t got to be faster than your bullet, just faster than your trigger finger.”

I reach out my next foot. Run one, two, three quiet steps and suddenly, my whole body burns. Stabbing pain is shooting up my body and around my belly.

I cringe, hoping it’s false labor pain. Cynthia told me these false ones ain’t nothin compared to the real ones coming in three or four weeks. But this pain is winding up worser and worser. I hunch over, grunting, look up through the floor boards in tears.

Ray say to Bobby Lee, “Let her do it.”

“Yeah,” Henry say. “Don’t ruin the fun, Bobby Lee. I want to see.”

Cynthia smiles. Spins the barrel again.

THE FOUR SOLDIERS — FATTY, Skinny, Snooper, and Colonel — line the porch in front of Sissy’s opened door with their hats in their hands, like they polite and friendly. Fatty stands on the last step, watching their backs. Colonel say with a smile, “How do you do, ma’am?”

“How do, suh,” Sissy say.

“We was told we could find Jackson and Josephine here.”

Sissy don’t answer.

Skinny looks over Sissy’s shoulder trying to see in the house. Colonel say, “They haven’t done anything wrong, ma’am. We just need to check on ’em. Are they here?”