LITMIR.BIZ

      John reined his horse to a stop and gently patted him on the neck. The horse shook his head and snorted. It was barely dusk, and a full moon was bringing light to what could be a dark winter night. A light breeze shuffled the fallen leaves about on the ground, and John noticed small puffs of clouds dancing across the sky. The chill of the night caused him to button the top of his jacket and adjust his wrap snugly around his neck. Up ahead, he saw a long straight road bordered with large oak trees which, during summer, created a green lush canopy overhead, but now appeared as large skeletons with thin arms reaching out to grasp and devour wanderers invading their territory. Accepting the challenge, John kicked his horse in the flank and galloped up the road, dodging the bare oak limbs overhead.

      Located on the crest of a large hill overlooking a creek bottom that had produced some of the finest cotton in the county, the Olliver’s large lighted two-story mansion dominated the skies. The four massive brick columns supporting the roof looked like sentinels standing guard.

      John reined in his horse and thought back to the time when as a youngster he had enjoyed many visits to the Olliver’s. They were full of fun and foolishment as he and Frank created new adventures. All the hunting trips, camping, horse racing or playing hide and seek in the spacious barn seemed to melt away the exhaustion from the daily toil and labor which occupied his every waking moment at his father’s farm.

      To John this was his home away from home, but that was years ago. In a way, he still had the same warm feeling about the place, but the relationship with Frank had changed through the years. The Frank Olliver he had known as a boy no longer existed.

      A shuffling sound on the porch caught John’s attention, and looking closer, he saw the figure of a man rising from a chair behind one of the columns. At the same time he was aware of the sound of people inside the house enjoying the evening.

      As the man made his way to the front steps, he stopped and peered into the darkness. “Who’s out there?”

      “It’s John, John Wilson.”

      “’Bout time you got here. You by yoreself? Where’s yore folks?”

      “They ain’t coming. Papa said he didn’t like eating late and that late hours is for young folks,” John answered, knowing the real reason couldn’t be revealed.

      “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

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