Page 39 of Junie

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Junie runs home through field grass, the dwindling smoke at her back. When she pushes the cabin door open, she finds her grandparents and aunt sleeping across two pallets. She tosses her maid’s uniform into the hearth, exchanging it for her plain nightdress. She runs her fingers over Minnie’s charcoal sketches on the mantel, around Muh’s chair, and across the splintered walls. Critter rubs against her ankles. Junie bends and grazes her hand along the cat’s head.

“I’ll miss you, too, Critter.”

Her grandparents hold each other’s hands in sleep, the dimming glow from the flames dancing across their faces. A smile creeps over her grandmother’s face as her eye twitches. It would be easier to leave now, to let them sleep through her escape, only knowing she is gone when they awake.

Instead, Junie kneels next to Muh’s worn face, her knee causing the floorboards to creak. Muh stirs a bit, then Grandaddy after her.

“Why you still up, Baby?” Muh says, squinting her eyes.

“Muh, I’m going on.”

“Good. Then get on and stop talking.”

“No, Muh. I’m going on. ” Muh’s shoulders stiffen. Grandaddy sits up. Junie swallows and continues.

“One of Violet’s reading candles fell and started a fire. She and I got out of the house in time, but—”

“Good God Almighty,” Auntie Marilla says, sitting up. “We ought to get help.”

“There ain’t no use, Auntie. It’s already down to the foundations.”

“Oh bless the Lord you’re still alive.” Muh wraps her arms around Junie and squeezes her to her chest.

“I’m still here, Muh. I’m still here.”

It would be so easy to stay, to let her grandmother’s embrace coax Junie into sleep. To let herself believe that the fire has burned the evil, that they will have peace now. Who will be there to control them, now that Taylor and the McQueens are gone? But people in town will notice by morning. They’d find her family and take them God knows where once they realize Taylor is gone. A new day will always bring more white folks to Bellereine, and with them, more evil.

“The masters are gone now, Muh. There ain’t nobody to stop us leaving.”

Muh pulls away, her eyes narrowing to slits. Junie inhales her tears.

“Junie,” she says, her voice wavering. “You have to stop this foolishness and accept your lot in this life.”

“I can’t do that, Muh. And you ain’t got to, either.”

Muh looks up at the ceiling, the stars shimmering through the cracks in the wood planks.

“I can’t lose another one of my babies, girl.”

“Sadie,” Granddaddy says, clutching her hand. Muh looks over her shoulder at his placid black eyes. “She ain’t gonna stop trying.”

The room goes quiet, save for the chirps of the bugs outside.

“Come with me,” Junie says.

Muh looks back at Granddaddy and Auntie. They shake their heads.

“For Uncle George, Auntie?” Junie says. Auntie wipes the tear dropping from her eye.

“I’m old, Baby. My bones is too tired,” Auntie says. “I already lost him once, I can’t bear to try and lose him again.”

“Master or not, this is our only home,” Granddaddy says. “I wish I had it in me to go with you, but I don’t no more, Grandbaby.”

Muh grasps her hand in hers.

“You got a fight in you like none I’ve ever known,” Muh says.

Junie falls into her grandmother’s arms. She holds her, her body shaking with sobs. Granddaddy and Auntie join, holding one another together in the night.

She pulls away at the sound of boots on the wooden floors. Caleb stands outside the doorway, his body too tall to come inside without bending down. A burlap pack hangs over his shoulder, while the fire from the kerosene lantern in his hand bathes him in a glow. Her mind slips back to that first night in the cotton fields, when the candlelight and moonlight blended together on his face as he read.

When he first told her she wasn’t anything without her words.

When he first saw through her.

Loose coils dangle from underneath his cap toward his umber-toned eyes, freckled nose, and stubbled cheeks; all features she’s memorized and fantasized about since last summer. His face could grow to be as familiar to her as Muh’s and Grandaddy’s.

He could become her home.

“We ought to be off now, Junie,” he says. “Not much time until midnight.”

Junie wipes away her tears. Caleb looks toward her grandparents and Auntie.

“Thank you for your kindness, all of you. I mean it.”

“Take care of our baby, Caleb,” Muh says.

“She’s the only family I’ve got.”

Junie pulls away from her grandmother’s arms, running her hand over her short, gray curls.

“Why didn’t y’all tell me about the pillows? Why didn’t you tell me about your hair, Muh?” she asks.

Muh sniffles, touching her head. “You always saw so much beauty in the world. Carried so much of it with you. I didn’t want to spoil it, Baby.”

—

They close the cabin door, and Junie falls to her knees.

“The white folks will come for them by morning. Where will they go?” Junie sobs.

“They’ve made their choice, and you have to respect it, Delilah June. See how they ain’t chasing after you? They’re respecting the one you made,” Caleb says, pulling her to face him. “Now listen, we got a whole life on the other side of that river, don’t we? We can almost touch it, it’s so close.”

Junie sniffles, gazing into the woods. The moon sits high in the sky. The boatman will be coming along the river any second now.

“All right,” she says.

“Good, now I brought you some pants so you look less like a lady. Tuck your hair into this hat, too.”

Junie nods, slipping the pants over her nightdress.

“Quite the diversion you and Miss Violet came up with. I didn’t think she had it in her.”

“She always has.” Junie wiggles to feel the strangeness of the fabric on her legs.

“We better be off, then.”

Caleb walks toward the cotton fields and the woods beyond them. Junie stops, looking behind her at Old Mother and beyond it, her place by the river, where Minnie waits. She can’t leave without saying a final goodbye.

“I think we should go this way, toward the river,” Junie says.

Caleb looks back at her, wrinkling his eyebrows.

“But that side of the woods is closer to the road. If anybody comes looking, we’ll be safer in the thick part of the woods over here.”

Junie bites her lip. He’s right, being closer to the road is dangerous. But she can’t leave without saying goodbye to Minnie.

“That side is farther from the river,” she says. “It’ll take us longer to make the boat. We could miss it.”

“Not much longer if we’re quick.”

“We ought to go this way,” she says again. Caleb looks at her and sighs.

“All right, then, you got us this far. I’ll follow you.”

Junie creeps behind Caleb over twigs and leaves, wary of disturbing the forest floor. Caleb dangles the dimming lantern in front as Junie directs him with whispers from behind, past the blackberry bushes and hollowed trees, weaving between the freshly blooming wild pears, tangled in moss. They take a few steps farther until they reach the base of Old Mother, each taking turns running their fingers over the trunk. Junie looks up at the web of branches, moss, and leaves; her refuge since she was old enough to climb. Old Mother is her last goodbye, her final marker of a home she’ll never see again.

Junie crosses her arms over her body, looking back through the woods. The smell of burnt pine and fabric still taints the air, even after the haunts put out the fire. How far has Violet gotten by now? Have Muh, Granddaddy, and Auntie left the cabin? Her muscles yearn to turn back toward Bellereine, if only to check. A single crow lands on the tree branch above her head and caws.

“What will our house be like, you think?” Caleb asks, as if sensing her apprehension.

“On the river, I hope,” Junie says, then sighs with a smile. “With a little garden in the back, and lots of places to write. And a piano, too.”

“I don’t care about the piano really,” Caleb says. “As long as I got you, Delilah June.”

She rests her head on Caleb’s for a moment, until a golden light grows around them. Junie turns to see Minnie standing on the edge of the water, gesturing for them to come forward as a rowboat glides into view.

Junie smiles, leaning to kiss him.

“The boat’s here,” she says. She sees the boatman from a distance, old and white, with a beard that tangles around the neck. Caleb’s face stretches into a half-grin, the lantern light illuminating the freckles underneath his eyes.

“I’ll go wave him down,” he says.

As Junie watches Caleb inch toward the riverbank, her body floods with warm realization. This will be her view the rest of her life: watching him wake up and walk out to their garden, staring at him building their own cabin one day, gazing at him when he fills their fireplace with fresh logs. He will be her future, her forever, her home.

Moonlight shimmers like sparks on the water. A stick snaps under Caleb’s boot as he treads forward, and she begins making her way toward her sister.

He stops, his back going stiff.

Junie’s brows knit, and a call of concern dies in her throat. He shifts the lantern to hang farther in front of his body, illuminating the man before him.

Mr. Taylor stands at the edge of the woods, his riding trousers and undershirt covered in soot. Ash coats his blond hair and pale face, jaw set in a stern line.

He holds a rifle against Caleb’s head.

It isn’t possible. Junie saw his bedroom explode in flames, watched the house crash to the earth. He should have died in that house, like Mrs. McQueen.

“I don’t want no trouble, sir,” Caleb says, his voice rising in register.

Junie rushes toward Caleb, cracking a stick under her foot as Caleb coughs to mask it. He gestures behind his back for her to stop. Taylor hasn’t seen her.

“You burnt my house to ashes,” Taylor scoffs. “I’d call that trouble.”

“Sir, I ain’t had nothing to do with burning the house. I was coming out here to…fetch water, is all.”

The lantern shakes, hanging from his trembling hand. Mr. Taylor steadies his rifle.

“Go on, then, Caleb,” Taylor says. “I’ve been waiting to see if you’d turn up down here. Ain’t no use getting water now, so you’ll go on and turn back toward the plantation, won’t you? We ought to be leaving for the army by now, ain’t we?”

Junie watches tremors shake through Caleb’s body. There’s no way out of this, not without a fight. The boat coasts along, just off the edge of the riverbank.

“Awful funny that you came all the way out here for water with no bucket,” Taylor says, pressing the gun into Caleb’s chest until he stumbles backward. “And you got a little pack over your shoulder, too. You wouldn’t be deserting the war effort, now would you, Caleb?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, see, I ain’t quite convinced. And from what I know, deserters and cowards ain’t even worth the tree we hang ’em on.”

Junie’s pulse throbs as her legs begin to weaken; she can’t let him face this alone. She tries to rush toward him, but cold hands pull her back.

“You have to go now, Junie,” Minnie says.

Junie looks back at Caleb. He raises the lantern even higher, until it hangs in front of his face. Mr. Taylor winces.

“That lantern’s awfully bright, boy. Can hardly see for shit.”

“I can’t see you properly without it, sir,” Caleb says. “I swear on my life, sir, I was out to fetch water.”

Caleb uses his free hand to point toward the river.

Right at the boat.

He is telling Junie to go.

Without him.

“You know, I ain’t seen my wife or that darkie bitch maid she used to have, neither. You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to them, would you, Caleb?” The rifle clicks, ready to shoot.

“I don’t, sir,” Caleb says, placing the lantern at his feet. Mr. Taylor chuckles.

Caleb turns around, his hands behind his back. He looks into the night at Junie. The rowboat floats out of her sight. Every muscle in her body begs her to jump to Caleb, to beat, scratch, and bludgeon Taylor until he lets Caleb go.

She won’t leave without him.

She can’t say another goodbye.

“Run,” he mouths as Mr. Taylor nudges his back with the barrel.

Caleb kicks the lantern behind him, sending it straight into Mr.Taylor’s leg. The fire catches fast, up along the leg of his pants. Mr. Taylor stumbles backward and screams, flinging the rifle onto the riverbank.

“Go, run!” Caleb screams, running toward her.

“No!” she cries, clutching his arm. “I ain’t going without you—”

“What did I say about your dreams, huh? Go, I’ll find you, I’ll find you!” Caleb yells.

“She’s here!” Mr. Taylor yells.

“Please, Delilah June, run. Run with all you got.”

She knows then that he means it. That she has no other choice.

Mr. Taylor puts out the last of the flames on his pants. Junie runs for the water, shards of sticks and broken glass cutting into her bare feet. She glances behind her as Mr. Taylor and Caleb spot the rifle at the same time.

“You ain’t going after your little bitch, you hear, boy?” Mr. Taylor thunders as they both lunge toward the gun.

She wades into the river water, the current dragging her away from the rowboat, just out of Mr. Taylor’s eyesight. The sound of their struggle muffles as the undertow pulls at her ankles from below. She kicks and beats against the water, stretching toward the surface with futility. She sucks air in and out of her lungs as she coughs up ash. The water drips into her open mouth, salty and metallic. Her lungs are too weak from the smoke, her limbs too tired from running.

Her head goes under.

Cold water fills her nose. A thousand frigid knives cut into her skull as the water rings in her ears. Her legs kick and arms flail, even as she sinks deeper. The river floods into her open mouth, and she’s left gasping for air. The pain overwhelms Junie as her limbs go limp, until all she knows is the ringing in her ears and the infinite darkness.

Her heart thumps as her feet hit the bottom. Her eyes open for a moment, staring up at the trickle of moonlight making its way to the river bottom.

The same moonlight she’d watched to follow the fate of Minnie’s spirit.

The same moonlight she’d read beneath with Caleb.

The same moonlight she counted on as Bellereine burned.

Her dreams can’t end here. She will not let them end here.

She uses the last of her strength to push herself off the river bottom, shooting to the surface long enough to see the boat, hovering a few feet away.

“Help,” she gurgles between coughs. “Help!” She beats against the water with all her might.

As her head slips back under, the boatman grabs her by the shoulders and drags her into the boat. She vomits and coughs up water, gasping for air. The air is freezing as her pants and dress stick to her body.

“You’s a real lucky one, girl, I nearly—”

Before the man can finish, a gunshot rings out from the riverbank. The boatman’s blood and flesh splatter like hot oil. His clouding eyes roll back in his head before he falls over the boat’s edge into the black water.

A screeching ring fills Junie’s ears as the world begins to spin. The boatman’s blood speckles her damp clothes and pools in the hull, staining the cuff of her pants. She crouches down and floats with the current, back toward Bellereine, as the next gunshot sounds from the bank, cracking a hole at the top of the boat.

Mr. Taylor is shooting at her.

Golden light begins to gather as Minnie floats across the water and into the boat. She hovers over the water at the back of the boat, glowing hands pressed against the stern.

“You have to row, Junie,” Minnie says.

“I can’t,” Junie coughs.

Run. Caleb’s voice echoes in her head. He had just been beside her, holding her underneath Old Mother.

“I can help you once you start it moving, but I can’t start it myself,” Minnie says.

“Not without him. I can’t without him.”

Mr. Taylor shoots toward Junie again, a bullet that hits the water.

“Make all this mean something, sister,” Minnie says. “Don’t give up. Make the pain mean something.”

Moonlight gleams on the river as Mr. Taylor fires another bullet, this one cracking another hole in the edge of the boat. On the shore, limbs tangle and bodies collide as Caleb tries to wrestle the gun out of Mr. Taylor’s hands.

He’s still fighting.

Fighting for her.

She takes the bloodied oars into her hands and starts to row. The water fights her, pushing her to move with the current and back toward Bellereine. She rows with all her might, slapping against the water until it gives way. The boat inches forward against the current.

“You have to row harder,” Minnie says.

Junie pushes the water with a scream, and the water breaks. The boat rushes forward as Caleb and Mr. Taylor disappear behind the trees. A sob rips through her chest and she drops the oars.

She waits for the crack of the bullet. Caleb’s fate. It never comes.