Our eternal curse II Read online

  As the door slammed shut, Count Anton placed his arm around Julii's shoulder and escorted her gently but firmly from the kitchen room into the center of the building. There, in a room with “settees” and soft “armchairs”, he stopped walking and waited silently.

  Julii held her breath because she did not understand what was happening, and Count Anton's actions made it clear they were both in terrible danger. He even crossed to the “window” and pulled the hanging cloth across the “glass”.

  Listening in the silence of the room, Julii could hear the ticking sound of the thing called “clock” coming from another room. When her ears grew used to the silence in-between the ticks, she caught signs of muffled shouting coming from the direction of the front of the tall building.

  Count Anton heard it too. He did not say so, but he held her closer at the very moment she heard the distant noise. His firm touch felt safe, but he was mopping more and more beads of sweat from his brow with the pretty little red thing. He was obviously afraid and that made Julii afraid.

  They both jumped in surprise at the muffled sound of breaking glass from the front of the tall building. 'Were people coming inside to hurt them?'

  Count Anton looked back towards the kitchen room. He was obviously weighing his options, when the man from the front of the hotel ran through the open kitchen door. He was still terrified, but even in this moment of extreme danger, he could not forget his brutal, ugly, prejudice. "What the hell are you doing? You can't bring no Injun in this here part of my hotel."

  Julii thought Count Anton was going to hit the man. She felt his body tense with anger. She could feel many strong muscles moving under his heavy flesh. His anger made his many chins move in a way that Julii had never seen human flesh move before. He was so close to violence. Count Anton's fight for self-control came through the tone of his reply. "Did you do as I asked?"

  "What? Yeah. General Hardee's men are out front."

  The man from the front of the tall building pointed towards the kitchen. "You can take your squaw out through the back."

  Count Anton moved forward until his face was nearly touching the man from the front of the tall building called “hotel”. The man flinched and looked down at his feet as Count Anton snarled: "We will be leaving this hotel through the front door like human beings, you southern heathen!"

  The man from the front of the tall building’s reply sounded surprised, pathetic and hurt. "What you going at me for? I'm the guy who let that Injun squaw in my kitchen to eat my food. I'm the guy who fetched the general."

  Count Anton had clearly had enough. He grabbed the man by the front of his shirt as he growled directly into his face, "And you are the guy who's getting out of our way!"

  Count Anton simultaneously tightened his grip on Julii, while using his body weight to push the baffled man easily to one side.

  Standing tall, Count Anton escorted her proudly towards the front of the tall building. In the front room, terrified people were gathered behind the chest-high wooden thing nervously watching the rabble jostling outside through the broken front window.

  Seeing Count Anton and Julii, they all turned to stare. The expressions on their faces made it clearer that they now understood and believed the people outside had good reason for rioting outside their hotel.

  Count Anton stopped walking and looked at them all. Striking a match, he lit another of the long brown things. Puffing smoke, he spoke with a tone of pride in his voice. "This is a human being in need of help. Can you cruel people ever see past color?"

  Everyone standing in the room looked shocked and outraged. Their expressions said: 'Why was Count Anton blaming them when he was the one so clearly in the wrong?'

  Shaking his head in disgust, Count Anton flicked his extinguished match in their direction and escorted Julii out through the front door. Still holding her firmly, he stopped on the sidewalk where many gray men with the long leafless branches were struggling to hold back the angry mob.

  Count Anton stood puffing out smoke while looking at the mob with an air of defiance. He stood his ground as the mob increased the volume of their abuse. It was clearly intended to intimidate Count Anton, but Julii could feel the determined movement of his body. He was having none of it. His fear had been left inside.

  One man in the crowd shouted: "That's him! That's the foreign bastard what beat on my boy!"

  Julii looked to see who was shouting. It was a tall man who held a boy painfully by the ear. He was the boy who hurled mud at her, and he was being held painfully by the same red ear that count Anton had slapped.

  Julii could see that the boy was ashamed and embarrassed. She wanted to enjoy his pain, but even after all he had done to hurt and humiliate her, she felt sorry for the boy's obvious suffering.

  As General Hardee approached, it became very clear that Count Anton did not feel sorry for the boy. His words made it even clearer that he felt no sympathy for any of the men in that street. Looking General Hardee in the eye, he puffed smoke from his long brown thing and said, "If you want to receive your ammunition you need to break some heads, General."

  Pointing to the tall man, Count Anton added, "And you need to start with him!"

  Angered by being singled out by the “foreigner”, the tall man shouted the words: "Get em bo..."

  General Hardee nodded to one of his gray men, and that man used the thick end of his leafless branch to hit the tall man in the face.

  The tall man's nose exploded into a horrible bloody red mass as his knees gave way and he hit the street like a falling tree. The grip on his son's ear still held firm and the tall boy followed his father violently down to the dirt.

  As the violence spread from man to man, General Hardee grabbed Count Anton's arm and looked at Julii. He spoke in a clear and powerful voice. "Is all this happening because of that goddamned Injun squaw?"

  Count Anton was not intimidated by the general's obvious authority. He shook off the general's grip, puffed more smoke, and looked him in the eye. "This woman is a human being and you will be well advised to treat her with a good deal more respect in front of me, General!"

  Julii could see the general's surprise. He was not used to being spoken to in this way. His next words were arrogant and defiant but tempered with a tiny hint of humility. "And, if you want to live, you would be well advised to leave that Injun with me while you high-tail it out of Atlanta, sir."

  Count Anton's temper grew and the volume of his voice increased with each smoky word. "And, if you want your ammunition, it's best you keep me and this fine human being alive, General!"

  Pointing across the street he added, "Clear a path to my carriage, and do it now!"

  The general replied in a very menacing tone. "You be careful now, sir. Everywhere she goes this Injun stirs up a mess of trouble. She has already destroyed the reputation of a very decent man."

  Without waiting for Count Anton to speak again, the general turned to the man called Lieutenant and shouted a rapid series of words. The man called Lieutenant repeated the general's words and all of the gray men moved as though by magic. Working as one man, they cleared the mob from the street using various levels of violence.

  Julii could see that some of the gray men liked hurting people while others did not. The ones who did not act violently were eventually driven to violence by the constant insults and jostling of the mob.

  By the time Count Anton had led Julii to the other side of the street, through the terrifying gap between the mob, many men on both sides of the fight were bloody. Their hatred for her was clear in all of the men's eyes. Even the gray men gave her hate-filled glances as her huge savior pulled her through the heaving gap.

  At the far side of the street she could see a carriage waiting with a brown man sitting high on top. Count Anton waved and the brown man waved back. Realizing that Count Anton had a means of escaping gave Julii a boost. The chance of survival was exhilarating. She was about to escape. She was also about to take her first exciting ride in a carriage.
Everything was changing for the better, when a heavy clod of mud hit her hard in the side of the head.

  Time slowed down. She could sense the mob still fighting violently against the gray men, but in her mind they were moving at half speed. She was watching from a place that seemed outside herself. She was no longer in control. She was frozen in terror. She could no longer feel the reassuring grip of Count Anton's arms around her shoulder.

  Looking down, she saw the arm still firmly in its place. Then she noticed her feet. They were still moving towards the carriage. Her feet were moving without her permission. 'How can that be?'

  Like a passenger in her own body, Julii watched herself cross the remainder of the street. She watched her legs rise to board the carriage. Before she could even sit down, she was tossed onto the beautiful studded leather seat as the horses instantly started pulling her away from the angry mob at an unimaginable speed.

  Julii saw, but could not feel, Count Anton slapping the back of her hand. He sounded truly worried. "Julii! Are you alright, my dear girl?"

  Julii could do nothing but give a halfhearted-but-reassuring smile as her head cleared and her senses slowly returned. It was while giving this exhausted smile she noticed something very odd. The carriage had made a turn, and from the open carriage window she could see that the men in the street were still fighting.

  Struggling to focus the full power of her unsteady mind, Julii tried to understand the rioter's motivation. Something about the violent scene seemed important. 'If she was no longer there, what was their reason to fight?' 'Why did these men of the same tribe keep hurting each other when the reason to fight was removed?'

  She realized the conflict must now be entirely driven by the momentum of the violence itself. One man hit another man because of her but, once that blow is struck, the fight became personal and she was forgotten. The need for individual revenge had become their single goal.

  In this moment, Julii understood that 'white men's violence can be redirected'. 'The need for retaliation could become its own motive.' That lesson, which was going to prove very damaging for the South, was never, ever going to be forgotten.

  The road to Savannah

  Atlanta was left far behind and Julii could once again see trees and grass and clear sky and birds. She was exhausted. Being hit in the head while crossing the heaving street had taken more out of her than anything she could remember, but she was alive and safe with Count Anton.

  She was also riding in a carriage, and she could hardly believe how exciting it felt. She was traveling at a truly exhilarating, even dangerous, speed, but the feeling of danger only made this journey more exciting. 'This is what it must be like to fly like a bird.'

  Just a few weeks before she had learned the word “carriage”, and today she was riding in one. She was so high off the ground and the speed of two galloping horses was intoxicating. Raw excitement pulsed through every inch of her played-out body, and even from her seat in the carriage, Julii could smell the magnificent galloping horses.

  Unlike Robert's horse, these two gave off a musk that she had never smelled before yet seemed as familiar as the smells in her father's tipi. The hide and metal things that connected the horses to the carriage jingled as they rose and fell, and even that sound seemed familiar. The countryside rushing by the open window was also, somehow, familiar. Somewhere in a vague and distant memory was a journey made in a vehicle pulled by horses, but Julii knew that had never happened to her. 'This was the fastest she had ever moved in this life.'

  Riding on the horse with Robert had been exhilarating because of the close contact with him, but even that did not provoke the thrill and excitement of this speeding carriage. Julii could not believe that such a speed could be maintained. The horses must have been galloping for at least ten of the time things that her Robert called “minutes”. She looked to Count Anton for reassurance. 'Had the carriage gone out of control?' 'No.'

  Count Anton sat calmly on the beautiful hide seat across from her. He was completely relaxed. He clearly had total faith in the carriage and the integrity of the spokes within the frantically spinning wheels and the brown man, he called “driver”, who sat atop the carriage expertly controlling the horses.

  Confirming Julii's belief that he was in no way threatened by the incredible speed they were traveling, Count Anton spoke in a matter-of-fact voice. He sounded so relaxed, as though they were still sitting in the kitchen room at the back of the tall building. "Tell me how you came to be standing all alone outside a cigar store in that awful city of Atlanta?"

  Julii was excited. 'This was a chance to repay his kindness.' 'She would teach him her words as a thank you.'

  As the horses outside slowed to a trot, Julii looked him respectfully in the eyes and used her own words to tell her story. After each sentence she translated them into English words, but much to her amazement, Count Anton did not want to learn a new language.

  He said, "Please be so kind as to use your English words, my dear."

  'Here was another white man like her Robert.' 'How could anyone not want to learn new words?' Julii was flabbergasted. 'What is wrong with these white people?'

  When she spoke again, Julii sounded deeply concerned as she asked, "Does not wanting to learn my words mean that you will not teach me yours?"

  Laughing, Count Anton feigned submission. "I would not dream of denying you such pleasures, my dear."

  Julii felt great relief. The mere thought of the existence of a completely new language that she could not learn horrified her. Hiding her concerns, Julii used her English words to tell him everything about her short life and how she had come to be in that hostile place called “Atlanta”.

  As she recounted her experiences, Julii noticed that certain words provoked painful memories of her journey with Robert. She found herself avoiding his name and the word “Shiloh” and the words “dead bodies” and the word “bushwhackers”.

  There were quite a number of these nasty thought-provoking words and censoring them left little gaps in her story, but Count Anton was clever. He understood the need for those gaps. He understood that she was protecting herself from pain by creating those gaps. Count Anton even filled some of the gaps with new and less provocative words. Shiloh became "That place". Murderous bushwhackers became "Southern riders who encountered the blue men".

  He also invented many more of these filler words, but he was sensitive enough to leave one permanent gap. After seeing the terrible emotional turmoil that saying Robert's name caused Julii, Count Anton never again asked a question that would steer her mind back to the man at the center of everything.

  At the end of the sad story, Count Anton looked silently into Julii's troubled eyes. His face held an expression of deep sympathy and understanding, and when he spoke his voice was filled with genuine understanding. "So, our mission is to get you back home to your family, if that can be done."

  "Can it be done?" Julii was excited by feelings of hope. She had suppressed all thoughts of going home because she believed it to be totally impossible but now there was hope.

  Seeing her excitement, Count Anton sat forward, grasped her hands, and adopted a serious tone. "I said 'if' it can be done. I do not know if it can be done. Since the battle of... Since the battle at 'that place', many Yankees now stand between us and your village."

  Then Count Anton sat back and looked out of the window as he added in a thoughtful tone, "And that is extremely unfortunate for you but quite fortunate for me."

  Julii thought about the strangeness of the count's words and the tone he used to say them. 'Why unfortunate for me but not for him?' She was sure that there was hidden meaning in these words and she was determined to find it because she really wanted to impress him. Arriving at what she hoped to be an intelligent conclusion, she spoke in a cautious voice, "You told the man called General to save me if he wanted to receive his ammunition?"

  Count Anton turned to look back at Julii. He smiled. His expression and nod of the head 'yes' told he
r that he could tell she was going somewhere interesting with this. It also told her that he was impressed. His positive demeanor gave her the added confidence to go on and expand on her thought. "Many Yankees mean the General will need more of the thing called ‘ammunition’."

  Another nod of the head 'yes' led Julii to her logical conclusion. "You must benefit from the General's need for more ammunition."

  Sitting back in his seat, Count Anton asked in a serious tone, "Please do not think me rude, but I must ask, is your story true? Have you been speaking English for just a few weeks? Have you truly lived a sheltered life?"

  Then he added with a smile, "You can be honest with me, my dear. I will understand."

  Julii felt spontaneous tears welling in her eyes. Her attempt to impress him had turned and bitten her like a rattlesnake. Now the man who had provided all of her support, all of her security and all hope of any kind of future, doubted her. The man who held her life in the palm of his hand believed her to be someone capable of telling untruths, and she could no longer find the courage to answer him.

  The raw agony on Julii's face caused Count Anton pain that he could not hide on his own. "Please forgive me Julii. I can see that I have hurt you. I asked my question only because you are a most remarkable woman. Your accomplishments in such a short time and your remarkable intelligence are beguiling."

  Taking hold of her hands he smiled. "Can you forgive me, Julii?"

  Julii nodded her head 'yes' as a single tear fell slowly down just one of her cheeks.

  Count Anton followed that awful tear with his eyes. His hangdog expression yelled out his insensitive feelings of shame and guilt louder than any words of apology ever could. When he eventually found more words to say, his tone pleaded for forgiveness. "Please, allow me to explain. I am what the Yankees call a blockade runner and, as you so cleverly concluded, many Yankees means these horrible confederates need more ammunition. They also need more rifles, more cannons, more gun powder and more food to feed the soldiers."