Lee and Eli's Quest

Chapter 1

The sky was a deeper blue today, or it seemed that way to Lee. Wispy clouds stretched out across the sky like a horse’s tail, but they moved fast, much faster than the wind at ground level. It was a pretty good sign that the weather was about to change.

Lee and his brothers were picking corn in the field. His stepfather, Tom Cossman, was on the wagon driving the mules. He was a mean bastard who never let up on the animals or the kids.

Lee was the oldest of the three boys, so Tom used his fist on him at the least provocation, usually beating him senseless. Lee fought back hard, but he realized at a young age, that one day he would be big enough to turn things around.

The day was extremely hot. Lee paused in his work to wipe the sweat mixed with corn husk from his eyes. They had been picking three rows of corn, throwing it into the wagon. Lee was picking two rows, his two younger brothers were picking one together, but they couldn’t maintain the pace Tom was setting. This day wasn’t any different than the rest. Tom was cussing, yelling at the boys, Work faster you good for nothing lazy brats! This corn ain’t gonna pick itself, goddammit!

Jesse was the youngest. Lee could see he was about to lose it, his face was red from crying. The old man turned his head around to lay some leather to the mules. When he did, Jesse threw an ear of corn, hitting him up side the head. Lee would sure be happy if it had killed him, but it didn’t, just knocked his hat off, making him madder. Tom tied the check lines to the brake, climbed down from the wagon, put his hat back on while looking around for someone to hit. He was a big man with a cruel, tight lip expression on his face, small beady eyes set too close together, with tobacco juice dribbling out of the corners of his mouth, running a little way down his chin. He never smiled. When he said something it was always loud and belligerent.

He came around the end of the wagon taking big steps. By this time the boys were hiding behind Lee, who knew what was coming. Lee had already decided that he had had enough. He wasn’t taking anymore beatings from that bastard.

Lee was nineteen, almost as tall as Tom, but not as heavy. His hands were big from all the hard work. When he made a fist it was like a club. He had wide shoulders that gave promise to the size man he would be someday when he finished developing.

When Tom stomped up to him, Lee hit him square in the face, as hard as he could. Lee knew Tom wasn’t expecting anything, because his feet flew out from under him when he was knocked flat of his back, down between the corn rows. Lee straddled him, hitting him with everything he had. When the boys dragged Lee off, Tom didn’t move. Blood was running out of his nose and from his busted lips, but he was still breathing okay, so Lee knew he was alive.

Lee stood there for a minute catching his breath, contemplating what he had just done. Sweat mixed with corn husk was running down into his eyes, stinging them. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face. Looking at Tom lying on the ground, he realized this posed a real dilemma; if he didn’t kill Tom now, Tom would surly kill him. Lee always knew Tom hated his guts. He would have run him off a long time ago if it wasn’t for all the free labor.

Lee hated to leave the boys to deal with him alone, but he knew he would have to. He ran out of the corn field, climbing over the split rail fence into the pasture, making his way to the barn yard. He ran around the barn, with chickens squawking as they flew in every direction, pigs squealing loudly as they ambled out of the way. He jumped the barn yard fence as he ran to the log cabin on the rise that his father had built before he died from a burst appendix.

It was the only home Lee had ever known. When he crashed through the door it frightened his mother who cried out, Lee, what in the world is going on?

He tried to explain to her, what had happened in the corn field, and what would happen when Tom came to, as he threw a few things in to a gunny sack.

His mother stood there watching him. Oh Lee, I’ve known this day was coming for a long time. I’ve been so worried, but I haven’t known what to do about it. I know you have been unhappy. She dissolved into anguish, Will I ever see you again?

He hugged his mother tightly, for she was wringing her hands and crying, but she also knew that for his safety, he would have to go.

He hesitated at the door and looked down at his mother standing there with tears rolling down her cheeks. As he hugged her to him, he said, I love you Mom. I will try to come back to see you someday if I can. He reached up, took Tom’s pistol from a peg on the wall, putting it into his sack, he turned and left without looking back.

Chapter 2

Lee stopped running after he put a good distance between Tom and himself. Now what am I going to do he thought, as he walked down to the creek. Sitting down by a big oak tree, leaning back against the trunk, he watched as the creek made a sharp turn here forming an eddy. The water traveled around in a circle boiling up in the middle, but not so much that would make it dangerous to swim. The boys had a rope swing tied high in a tree over the water, which they could swing out on, letting out a loud yell as they dropped into the water with a splash.

He cooled off in the water. It felt good to wash all the sweat off. This place was special to him and his brothers, a refuge, a place they came often to fish and talk, as they licked their wounds after the old man got through with them.

Jesse, twelve, was the youngest. Ronnie was fourteen. They were his half brothers. They had the same mother but a different father. Lee’s dads name was Leroy Somers, who had died with a bad infection from a burst appendix when Lee was but a year old. His mother married Tom sometime after that, who was a widowed neighbor whose farm joined theirs. Tom was mean and abusive to Lee from the beginning, causing the child to grow up miserably rejected. His mother tried to intercede for her eldest son, but she was too weak to stand up to her overbearing husband.

Lee had spent his whole life on this farm in south eastern Missouri, seeing little of the world, so he was more than happy to rid himself of this place, with all the bad memories and endless hard work. He thought it would take about three days to walk to New Madrid, a little town on the banks of the Mississippi River that Lee had been to for supplies a few times, but that was all he could figure out for now.

He continued to sit there with his back against the tree, watching the water moving slowly past him on its meandering journey to the sea. His light brown hair hung down over his collar, bleached almost blond from the sun, like it did every summer because he liked to go bare headed. He had a dark complexion, a strong chin, which some said favored his fathers with his handsome face.

Lee checked some limb lines that he and the boys had set out this morning before they went to work. They hadn’t caught anything, but the bait was gone, so he figured the crawdad’s had got it, which they often did. Anyway he thought he would need the fishing gear, so he rolled it up before placing it in his sack. There was plenty of daylight left as he began walking. He felt better with every step he took away from Tom and his corn field.

He felt that if he was lucky, he would get a job in town making a new start for himself. Little did he know that events hundreds of miles south, in a swamp in Louisiana that involved a runaway slave, would have a profound effect on his life when their paths crossed, setting the stage for a partnership that would last a lifetime, seeing two young men traipse half way across the continent on a journey from the muddy banks of the Mississippi river, to the shores of the Pacific Ocean.

Lee had been following the creek most of the afternoon. It was getting close to sundown when he picked a spot close to the water to make a camp for himself. He gathered some wood for a fire, which he at once had blazing. He put a couple of ears of purloined corn on the coals to roast.

He baited a fishing line with a grasshopper, hanging it from a limb over the water, but before he could get back to the fire, the limb was shaking, so he ran back, took hold of the line, pulling a big crappie out of the water.

He leaned back against the tree watching the flames, with smoke curling up into the tree limbs. There is something about a campfire that’s real comforting. He had cleaned the fish with his pocket knife, wrapped it in leaves, packed mud from the creek bank over the leaves about a half inch thick, before putting it into the fire to cook.

The stars were starting to twinkle, though the sky wasn’t completely dark yet. The frogs were croaking their nightly mating calls. He dozed off while relaxing in his campsite under the tree. When he awoke the fire was almost burned out. He took a tree branch to dig in the coals with until he found his fish, then put some more wood on the fire to get it going again.

The mud was baked hard on the fish. Lee had to break it off around the edges, lift off the top half, and there lay a perfectly cooked fish in the mud brick dish. It was moist and flaky, just falling away from the bone. As he sat leaned against the tree, eating his fish, at rest for the first time he could remember, he thought, Life couldn’t get any better.

With a full stomach, Lee rolled up in his blanket, using the gunny sack for a pillow. With easy untroubled thoughts, he settled down for the night. As he fell asleep, he dreamed that he was searching the country side for a black stallion that was so elusive he could only catch a glimpse of it as it disappeared into the forest. He would follow, but the sightings were so fleeting that he wasn’t sure he had even seen it. He couldn’t stop; he had to keep following until he caught that beautiful animal. He became so tired he had to lie down on a bed of pine needles to rest. In his dream sleep he dreamed he fell asleep. When he awoke, the stallion was standing beside him.

He reached up, stroked the horse’s muzzle, then rose to climb on its back, grabbing a handful of the flowing mane. He dug his heels into the stallion’s flanks, spurring it to take off running across the field so fast it felt as though he was flying, so fast the wind was blowing his hair every which way, but the horse was slowly disappearing from under him, even though he still had two hands full of mane.

A rumbling that started a long way off kept getting louder as it came nearer, until it culminated with a loud clap of thunder that woke him .The wind was blowing hard, and with the last vestiges of the dream slipping away, he glanced down at his two hands gripping the blanket. The lightening was flashing across the sky in long streaks before it came down to jolt the earth; the sky was a churning mass of dark clouds.

The rain was already splattering around him as he grabbed his gear, and ran down to the creek where an out cropping of rock sheltered him from the rain. There was enough dry brush under the ledge for kindling, so he was able to lean back enjoying the comfort of a fire. He immediately went back to sleep. When Lee next awoke, the sun was coming up, the rain had stopped, birds were chirping, and frogs croaking. Lee knew it was going to be a beautiful day, full of promise. For what, he didn’t know.

He had been walking for three days, living on corn he stole from fields he passed, and fish he was able to catch out of the creeks. Lee was getting comfortable with his new-found freedom. He wasn’t in much of a hurry to get anywhere, as he was discovering how much he enjoyed life, after being under the tyranny of his step-father for so long.

While passing a farm house he saw a woman heading toward the shed with a bucket in her hand. She had long red hair that hung almost to her waist. When he hailed to her, she stopped and stood there for a moment with some reservation before saying, Can I help you?

Lee answered, My name is Lee Somers. I will work for something to eat, if you can spare it? I lived over near the Arkansas border up until three days ago. I’m heading to New Madrid to find work.

The woman responded, I guess if you feel like doing the milking, I can fix you some breakfast.

He was feeling a little puny after all that parched corn he had been living on for the last three days, so he could surly do the milking for her.

He threw a little hay in the manger for the cow before getting down to business. The cow wasn’t keen on letting a stranger milk her, so when Lee took hold of her udder, she kicked over the bucket. But after a little soothing talk while gently patting her rump, she settled down, letting him do the job.

When he was finished, he walked to the house carrying the bucket of milk. The lady met him at the door introducing herself as Mary. She looked to be about twenty five. When she smiled her whole face lit up, and her eyes sparkled. She had dimples dancing on her cheeks, with a dusting of freckles trailing across her nose. She took the bucket of milk from Lee, before leading him to the table where a man sat with his big hands wrapped around his coffee cup. The man just nodded his head to Lee before taking another drink of his coffee. Mary poured another cup of coffee, and handing it to Lee; she introduced the man as her husband, Joe Deets.

That food sure smells good, Lee said with his mouth watering. Mary dished up the food. Biscuits, gravy, fried potatoes, and a big bowl of scrambled eggs were set on the table.

Where you headin kid? was the first thing Joe said to Lee when he set his coffee cup down.

I was hoping to get a job in town to earn some money. Lee replied. He then told the two about the run-in with his stepfather, which caused him to leave home without planning what he was going to do.

They finished breakfast, which was about the best meal Lee could ever remember. Joe told Lee if he came down to the wharf with him, he might get a job loading sacks of flour on to a boat.

I’d be so grateful, sir, he stammered.

Joe’s wife fixed Lee a lunch in a syrup bucket, just like the one she fixed Joe, making Lee so grateful, he just nodded his thanks to Mary, for he couldn’t find the words to thank her for her kindness. He had to swallow the lump in his throat.

When they left the house heading into town, it was one of those perfect mornings. Lee felt like a million bucks. Joe said it was about a four mile walk into town. Lee exclaimed with a smile, I could hop on one foot that far, after eating such a good breakfast!

The town was starting to come alive as they trudged down to the river, the Mighty Muddy Mississippi River, as what it was called, where Joe introduced him to the boss, who was more than glad to hire a big strong kid to work for him.

A teamster was driving a load of flour up to the loading dock as they were speaking, so Lee was put right to work carrying sacks of flour down onto the deck of the paddle wheeler that was tied to the wharf. It was hard, hot work, but it was the kind of work he was used to. They worked non stop until a whistle blew a shrill blast of steam. Joe motioned him over to a tree where everyone was gathering to eat their lunch in the shade.

Mary had fixed fried potato and biscuit sandwiches for them to eat. Once again Lee deeply appreciated Mary’s cooking.

Just as soon as we finish eating, we can check my limb lines to see if I caught anything last night, remarked Joe while chewing his food.

They walked down the river a little way where an ancient sycamore tree leaned out over the water. Joe had several lines tied to it. One was jerking the limb. Joe ran when he saw the limb moving, and grabbing the line, he started pulling the fish in. It was a big blue catfish. It must have been fighting that line all night, because it was wore out without much fight left in it. The fish broke the surface of the water as Joe was bringing it in. Lee figured it was about ten pounds. Joe got the fish up on the bank while Lee started fashioning a stringer out of a piece of hemp rope. He ran it through the gills, out through the mouth, then tied it off to the tree.

That should hold him til we get off work tonight, Joe said as he lowered the fish back down into the water. Were going to eat fish for supper tonight kid, Joe laughingly said.

It made Lee feel good to be included in this families plan for supper that night.

How wide is the river Lee asked Joe. I figured it’s about a quarter of a mile across. Am I right?

Joe commented that it was real low for this time of the year. It’s not good for the river boats, but as you can see it does make for better fishin. Fishin’s best when the river is low or droppin. Right now, you are probably close to right. They headed back to the boat, for it was almost time to go back to work.

Joe pointed out to the river saying, That’s where the town was before the big earthquake. The town was wiped out by a bad earthquake back in the seventeen hundreds. Some of the eye witnesses said the river ran backwards for a time, changing its course, forming Reel Foot Lake in Tennessee, which lies on the other side of the river. When the town was built back, they called it New Madrid, because the old town was gone.

I don’t see how a river can run backward. Said Lee, shaking his head.

They finished loading the boat before dark. The Captain eased it back out in the river because he was fearful of getting stuck on the bottom, with the river dropping and the water being as low as it was.

They got paid off that evening, leaving Lee feeling like a rich man with a whole dollar in his pocket. The boss thanked him for his hard work, telling him to show up the next day because there would be another boat to load.

The two men walked over to the big sycamore tree to collect their fish, which they cleaned beside the river before heading for home. Lee was really tired, but it felt good to have made friends with these good people. He milked the cow again, and at Mary’s insistence, made a bed for himself in the hay loft.

After supper he settled down to get some rest. He had a belly full of catfish, a place to sleep, and a whole dollar in his pocket. Life was good.

The next evening after work, Lee took Tom’s pistol out of his sack, wiping the dust off with his handkerchief. It was a forty four. He thought it was beautiful, but his step-dad had absolutely forbid him to touch it. He had to laugh at the thought of the old man’s anger when he found his gun missing. Now it was his. No one would ever knock him around again. Strapping the pistol around his waist it felt real good, causing him to feel invincible. As he started practicing his draw, he thought, If I practiced enough, mastered this thing, it will protect me.

He kept hanging around the dock with Joe, sleeping in the barn at night. There seemed to be a boat waiting to be loaded with something almost every day. The dollars were mounting up in his pocket.

Chapter 3

One evening proved too warm to be in the barn practicing drawing his gun, so Lee crawled down out of the hay loft, moving around back to a place where he could practice where no one could see him. He was still shy with the gun, so he kept it hidden.

All at once, he heard a commotion at the house. Hearing Mary scream, he ran around the barn heading to the house at a dead run. As he came around the corner of the house, he saw Joe lying on the ground. Two men were struggling with Mary, but they let go of her and started clawing for their guns when they saw Lee. The military holsters they wore had a flap that kept the gun from bouncing out of the holster while riding, which slowed down their draw. Lee pulled his forty-four, shooting both of them in the chest before they could clear leather.

The one holding the horses jacked a shell in the chamber of his carbine to draw down on Lee, but before he could fire, his horse spooked, throwing his aim off. The bullet whizzed past Lee’s head, and without a thought, Lee shot him out of the saddle, his shot catching the man in the forehead, throwing him to the ground where he didn’t move.

Lee walked up to where the men had fallen. Taking a good look at the army uniforms they were wearing, he thought these men couldn’t be real soldiers with these mismatched uniforms and their dirty unkempt looks. He thought they must be scalawags, out robbing and killing because they were too lazy to work.

Mary had run to Lee, making sure he was okay. Then they both went to help Joe, who looked to be dead lying there on the ground. Blood was running from a cut on the right side of his head with a big goose egg forming, but he was still breathing. Lee carried him into the house and laid him on the bed. Mary started wiping his face with a wet cloth, and soon he started coming around. Mary told Lee, You better do something with those horses and those dead men before someone sees them.

Lee put two of the horses in the barn before stripping their saddles off. He used the other horse to drag the dead men out into the woods, where he dug a hole big enough to hold all three bodies. There he buried them.

He took everything from the pockets of the uniforms he had stripped from the dead men, and put it in the saddle bag. He was really tired, but he still had to get rid of the evidence, so he built a fire to burn the uniforms.

It must have been midnight by the time he put the other horse up before going to the house. There was a light burning and Mary opened the door as soon as she heard him step up on the porch. "Come on in Lee, I got some