Chapter 11

“Sioux says it’s time to eat,” announced Beth.

“Okay, we’re coming,” Grant answered as he crawled across to the bed and pulled himself upright. “Jane and Janice want to fix a plate and eat in here.”

Sabrina replied, “They’re welcome to join the rest of us, but if that’s what they want, I have no problem with it. In fact, Marcel, Lea and Meme may also want to eat with them.”

“Who are Lea and Meme, and why would Marcel want to eat apart from us?”

“They’re our two runaways, and I think Marcel is interested in Lea. She’s sixteen, and she looks out for her eleven year old sister, Meme. Lea is also teaching Marcel how to be a slave and what it’s like to be one.”

“Then help me improve the situation. I have a card table and chairs in the hall closet.”

“Great,” said Beth. “We’ll get the chairs if you’ll get the table.”

Grant was still getting everything set up when Beth and Sabrina led Jane and Janice out to the kitchen. Grant positioned the table to meet corner to corner with the end of his bed. That way, the women could all have a chair, and Marcel could sit on the bed, but still use the table to support his plate. He passed the five on his way to the kitchen. They all had plates stacked high with food in one hand and an iced drink in another. Jane had a smile on her lips and in her eyes, and all four women seemed more at ease than he could have imagined just a few minutes earlier.

Grant entered the kitchen, and Sioux said, “Your plate’s already out on the deck.”

Looking through the window at the happy people eating on the makeshift tables, Grant said, “I know it was a lot of effort to fix this, but I think this may be a good start.”

“With everyone’s help, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and you’re right, I see a positive start to a better Nation. We’ve got uptimers and downtimers eating together, and the Marion brothers apologized to John and I about their attitude. We didn’t even know they had an attitude. Sabrina’s father was encouraging the Blacks to eat with everyone as he helped fill their plates, but easily accepted their desire to eat in your room. And the way Gabe Marion is sucking down that iced tea, I think he may ask us to adopt him.”

Grant laughed, and said, “Isn’t it amazing that something as common to us as ice in our drinks has to almost seem like magic to these people.”

“True, but you need to eat, and my husband is going to send out a search party for me if I don’t soon join him.”

The meal went well, and everyone obviously enjoyed the fried chicken. The green bean casserole was a hit, as many of the group had never eaten anything like it. Of course, that made sense since one of the main ingredients didn’t exist during this time. That thought reminded Grant that their diet would soon be making significant shifts as they couldn’t run to the store for canned soups and such. It also meant that they would have to do much of their own canning and freezing in the future.

Toward the end of the meal, Grant mentioned the problem he had about the holster.

Tom asked, “Why don’t you switch to a model twenty-three and use a shoulder holster. You will only lose one round in the standard magazines, and I’ve got a couple of after-market magazines that will hold twenty-two rounds each. You could carry the gun on your left side, three standard magazines on the right and an extended magazine in each of those big side pockets. I think I may have something that could double as a money belt and still hold a couple of those other magazines.”

“Speaking of those other magazines, what is that surprise you wanted me to see earlier?”

Tom said “I’ll be right back.” He returned moments later, carrying a cane, and said, “This is what every gentleman should carry.”

“That’s a nice looking cane,” remarked Grant, “but isn’t the head a little large.”

Tom stood, holding the cane in two hands, with its point resting between his feet. Even from Grant’s memory, this was a common pose for a man who carried a cane, but didn’t require it for walking. Grant also noted that in that stance, the over-sized head was hidden by his hand.

“Okay, I’ll admit that the head is not that noticeable when carried in that position. So what makes it so special?”

Tom lifted the cane and re-positioned his hand. Suddenly there was a muted pop and a plastic glass sitting on the rail at the end of the deck exploded. Grant asked, “What did you do?

“The handle is a detachable Walther PPK firing subsonic three eighty rounds. The shaft of the cane is literally a very long sound suppressor. You have to keep the end of the cane free of dirt and mud, but otherwise, you are far more deadly than you look.”

“Wow! And you say the PPK is detachable?”

“It unscrews with a couple of twists, though remember your shots will be much louder with it removed.”

“Duh!” laughed Grant. “You’re starting to sound like one of those warnings about a cup of coffee might be hot. Now, besides a few things I need, are we ready to leave as soon as it’s dark?”

“We’re ready,” answered Isaac, “though I think we would both like some more time shooting those new pistols.”

“Tom, let them shoot and then make sure they have what they need. It probably would be a good idea if I also fired a few rounds from the new guns.”

“I’ll bring everything to the range.”

“Good, though it will be a few minutes before I can get there. I need to let my seamstresses know what’s going on, as well check with the others who are going with me.”

Grant entered the house and complimented the women for a wonderful meal. He entered his bedroom and found Jane and Janice pondering how to solve the problem with the gun.

“Jane, we’ve got the problem solved. I’m going to use a smaller version of that pistol and carry it in a holster under my arm. That holster also has a place for me to carry the extra magazines.”

“I’m glad you’s solved the problem, cause only answer we’s could figure out was to make a coat just for the gun.”

“And that’s something we may have to do in the future, but Er ah Tom’s solution should work for now.”

“It good you work to get used to saying right name. Mistake could cost Tom his life.”

“You know?”

“We know, but we promised Mistress Sabrina that we would help keep his secret.”

“He’s a good man, and can use all the help he can get. Have you met his son, Michael?”

“He has a son? I didn’t know he’s married.”

“Jane, his wife was killed when Michael was four. Eric, or Tom, was in the Marines and had to come home to care for his son. In uptime, he owned a gun shop on this side of the Cooper River.”

“How’s she killed?” asked Janice.

Trying to explain things in downtimer terms, Grant said, “A man drank too much and was too drunk to drive his carriage. He ran her carriage off a bridge and she drowned.”

“What did they’s do to da man?”

“Not enough, but six months later, he was found mysteriously floating face down in one of the tidal creeks. Many thought Tom killed him, but it couldn’t be proved.”

“Good, better Eric or Tom punish than law.”

“Will son live with Tom?” asked Jane.

Grant answered, “Michael will probably live with me, as Tom having a son that age might be hard to explain.”

“How old Michael?” asked Janice.

“He’s fifteen, but is bigger than his dad.”

“Then he man.”

“That’s true,” Tom said from the doorway, “but he still needs a lot of love and understanding.”

“Tom,” asked Jane, “would he accept from us?”

“Are you asking sex?”

“No, just love, hugs and talk.”

“I can’t image why he wouldn’t. He’s been raised like most of us uptimers. The color of one’s skin does not define that person, it’s only a color.”

“Tom, why don’t you get Michael and introduce him to Jane and Janice while I see how the holster and stuff will work with these clothes?”

“I’ll do that.”

“Would you also have John join us?”

“Sure.”

For the first time, Grant put on the entire outfit, from the Navy Blue with gold trim tricorne hat to his silk hose and buckled shoes. With a little adjustment and a couple of loops added to his britches by Jan, the shoulder holster and companion magazine holder worked well, and was completely hidden by the large gold coat. The coat had a red silk lining and its red and blue trim matched the baroque material of his waistcoat. He could tell quickly that the wig and cravat were going to drive him nuts. However, he said, “Jane, Janice, you did an outstanding job, even though I doubt I’ll ever get used to wearing these things. What can I bring you from New Bern as a thank you gift?”

“Massa Grant, we don’t get paid for what we do. That why we’s slaves.”

“Jane, I didn’t offer to pay you, but to give you a gift. My problem is that I don’t know what would make a good gift for you.”

“They can always use material and sewing notions,” Sabrina answered from the door.

“Good, then I’ll see what I can do.”

John walked up beside Sabrina, and asked Grant, “You wanted to see me?”

“How do we stand as for getting ready to leave?”

“The Stiletto’s ready, including a couple of surprises. The food’s stored along with extra fuel and ammunition and your crew is waiting to depart.”

“Excellent, I need to change back to my fatigues and pack these clothes. Can you get with Thomas and the Marion brothers and select the various coins I need to carry in my pocket, and what I should be carrying in my money belt, luggage, etcetera. We also need to give Gabe and Isaac some money to carry so the weight’s not all on me. These clothes are heavy enough, without loading them down with gold.”

“We’ll work things out. Anything else?

“Yes, that teak case in my office.”

“Your swords?”