Chapter 14: REVELATIONS
Thursday, November 20th... "Dear Mom and Dad... Sorry I have not written you sooner. As soon as we got into Galveston, a lot of interesting things started happening. We met these very nice folks who invited us to stay in their house right on the beach. Mom... you would like Miss Rosalie—you have a lot in common. I have written down some of her recipes and home remedies for Bo Hai to try out. The first week she and Jess went around visiting different places trying to find out anything about his sister but no luck. Or I guess I should say, some luck—they know she was in the Catholic hospital for a while but then she disappeared. Jess was real sad about that.
Jess got awful blisters from all that walking around and could not put on his boots for a week. Since there was nothing for me to do I spent all my time with Miss Rosalie's daughter Cecelia who is almost my age. We went swimming in the Gulf of Mexico and went clam digging and crabbing. Do not worry... we were never alone together. They take care of a bunch of orphan children and there were always kids with us. Cecelia teaches one day a week at a primary school and I sat in on her class. I also helped out with chores like chopping wood and cleaning fish.
We boarded a sternwheeler paddleboat and headed east from Texas along the coast to Pensacola Bay in Florida. I know you are looking that up in the atlas right now. Sometimes we were out on the ocean and sometimes between barrier islands and the mainland, on what they call the intracoastal waterway. The captain's name is Bruce Baldwin but he goes by 'Booger'. The name of our boat is 'Jolie Rouge', which means 'Pretty Red' and does not mean redheaded girl as you might think but refers to French privateers of the 1600s and 1700s who used to fly a Jolly Roger flag that was red instead of black. Jolie Rouge flies an American flag, by the way, although Captain Booger says she flew a Confederate flag until the end of the war.
Nothing much happened except for one bad storm and Jess being seasick. I have never seen so much puke in my life and, Mom, I want you to know I helped clean it up. I can see you rolling your eyes. Saw my first alligator and, boy, was it scary. As big as a cow. That reminds me... in addition to a LOT of fish we often eat alligator meat and it is not bad. I will bring you a recipe... ha ha.
Oh, and there was a fight at one place we stopped, between sailors and soldiers stationed at a fort. There was some shooting but no one was killed and none of us from the boat got arrested. Jess told me to stay up in the wheelhouse, which I did. All the fighting was down below so I did not have to shoot anyone. Jess got stabbed with a knife but not too bad. Maybe I should not have told you that.
So then we got to Choctawhatchee Bay which used to be called Santa Rosa Bay, which is the general area where Jess' brother might be living since the war if he is not dead. It has got to where I do not actually spend much time with Jess because I started helping the crew—you know, for something to do to keep busy. In my opinion traveling by boat as a passenger is almost as boring as traveling by train.
It took a long time to go all the way around the top half of this bay because we were 'gunkholing', according to Captain Booger. This means we travel close to shore in shoal water (shallow) and stop at every cove, inlet and slough along the way to trade with people who live out here away from civilization as we know it. This boat is like a floating general store. Sometimes there's no dock and we just nose up to a muddy bank (mud is called 'gunk'). Captain Booger says they use jungle telegraph, whatever that is, so most times the people know we are coming and they are already waiting for us with their trade items so we are there only an hour or so. If our last stop is near sunset we tie up or drop anchor for the night.
You are not going to believe this but the town (yes... a real town!) we are staying in for a few days is called 'Boggy'' on account of it is on 'Boggy Bayou.' We are staying in a very nice hotel called the Lafayette. The captain is taking Jess to meet 'someone important' today. He would not say who, only that it is a surprise for Jess. They both got dressed up like they are going to a wedding or something. Tomorrow we get back on the boat and will be traveling up the Choctawhatchee River.
Well... I am going to stop here and walk this over to the post office. Love you and miss you all! Sorry about missing Thanksgiving.
Your loving son, Jay Dee"
"Dear Slim and Daisy and Mike... Found out Francie was in Galveston like Gil said but not there now. She got sick and was in the hospital run by nuns but then a hurricane came and no one knows what happened to her after that. Heard some rumors about where Tony might be but using a different name somewhere around this Choctawhatchee Bay. I copied the name off the map so no jokes from you, Slim. Should have wrote more but I have to give this to Jay Dee so he can mail it along with a letter to his folks. We are in a town called Boggy and the captain says there won't be any postal service after this. We are in good health...hope you are, too.
Your friend, Jess"
"Are we there yet?" Jess grumped as he and the captain shared a cab trotting smartly along a boulevard paralleling the waterfront. This morning, at Cap'n Booger's direction, he'd got a close shave and a haircut before sashaying out to buy a decent pair of trousers, a ruffled dress shirt, a vest and a coatjacket. The captain loaned him some cufflinks and a tie. He'd clipped and filed his fingernails and dug out all the gook he could from under them. He'd polished and spit-shined his boots and given his hat a good brushing and spot-cleaning. They were off to visit someone in an upperclass neighborhood. More than that Cap'n Booger refused to say.
"Just another mile or two. Quit fidgetin' an' act your age. Miss Amelia's a real lady an' we wanna give 'er the impression we're real gentlemen."
The cabbie turned into a cul-de-sac and halted at a double wrought iron-gate set in a high whitewashed brick wall enclosing a two-story mansion of matching construction. Hopping down from his seat, the driver pulled on a rope attached to a cable extending to the house. Presently a liveried manservant scurried out and loped toward the gate.
"May I hep you?"
Cap'n Booger stood up where he could be seen. "Captain Bruce Baldwin and friend to see Miss Pettus by invitation."
The servant bowed in recognition. "Yassuh, Cap'n. She waitin' on y'all." He unlocked and opened the gates, allowing the cab to pass through and down a short graveled drive to a circle surrounding a multi-tiered fountain. Dismissing the cabbie, Cap'n Booger and Jess waited for the servant to catch up to them to escort them up the staircase. Jess took the time to look around at the luxuriant landscaping... magnificent magnolias and royal palms, flowering shrubs of every description and masses of flowers in winding beds contained in whitewashed brick borders. More fountains, birdbaths and flagstone walkways filled the grounds. Potted plants and wicker furniture graced wide wrap-around verandahs on both levels.
Whose house is this an' what're we doin' here?
"If you gennemuns'd follow me..." The servant preceded them along a wide hall that led directly to the back of the house. Glass doors stood open to a section of verandah partitioned off by latticework laced with honeysuckle and Lady Banks roses. At one of three cushioned wicker armchairs arranged around a glass-topped table sat a diminutive woman well over a 'certain age,' who smiled as Cap'n Booger came around to bow over her offered hand.
"Bruce... how wonderful to see you! Hale and hearty as always."
"Amelia... my ageless beauty."
The captain straightened and nodded at Jess. "Jess... I present to you Miss Amelia Pettus, doyenne of Boggy's top crust."
Is he serious? Sounds kinda sarcastic to me...
Caught off guard with hat in hand, Jess gave a stiff bow and made a concentrated effort on correct pronunciation.
"M'am... Miss Pettus... very pleased to meet you."
"Amelia... this is my friend Jess Harper... the one I wrote about in my note yesterday."
"Welcome to my humble abode, Mister Harper... or may I call you Jess? As you can see, we're quite informal here."
"You sure can," Jess blurted, then caught himself. "I mean, I'd be honored, m'am."
"Please have a seat... both of you. Otis, would you be so kind as to serve refreshments?"
"Yessum." Otis turned to a drinks cart nearby to retrieve three heavy crystal tumblers and a cut crystal decanter filled with a golden liquid. Filling the glasses with a generous hand, he withdrew to a discreet distance.
Miss Amelia languidly lifted her tumbler in a toast. "To old friends and new..."
Jess cautiously sipped while the other two tossed back what was perhaps the finest bourbon he'd ever thrown a lip over. Smooth as silk, glowing as it slid down his gullet. On his second go he caught up with them. Otis had their glasses replenished in the blink of an eye.
"Would you prefer luncheon sooner rather later?" the lady inquired with a twinkling eye. "This vintage is best appreciated with a full meal."
"Sooner the better, Amelia," the captain stated flatly. "My stomach thinks my throat's been cut."
"Otis, please inform Cook we're ready."
"Yessum. I be raht back."
The lady and the captain spent a few more minutes in an exchange of pleasantries, during which time Jess had the opportunity to look over his hostess without seeming too obvious. Miss Amelia wore a simple gown of pale pink lavender muslin with delicate traceries in a floral motif worked in silver and lavender purple threads—colors that accentuated her silver hair and complemented her pale violet eyes. For a woman of her years she had remarkably few lines yet didn't seem to be powdered and rouged the way some older ladies did trying to disguise their ages.
Bet she was a knockout in her day. Wonder how old she is?
When the first luncheon course was presented, Jess blinked. He'd never eaten uncooked green stuff in his life and wasn't sure what it was... or what he was supposed to do with it. Tomatoes he knew, and spring onions. Other items he recognized in their natural state—the way Daisy bought them at the farmers' market or grew them in their little kitchen garden. However, that's not the way they appeared on the table at home. Surreptitiously following the captain's lead, he dribbled some vinegary green sauce over the dish and took a mouthful. Alien—but delicious.
There was some kind of fruit that resembled a pear with leathery brownish-green skin and yellowy-green innards, sliced into halves with a depression in the middle where a pit or nut must have been. Bruce and Miss Amelia squeezed fresh lemon slices on theirs and dug out the creamy interior with little silver spoons. It, too, was very tasty.
Next came tiny buttered potatoes the size of quail eggs and miniature whole baked chickens no bigger than his fist. Jess was thankful that it appeared to be proper to eat the latter with his fingers. Last came dessert... an icy, creamy fruit concoction that gave him brain freeze.
No sooner had Otis cleared away the last dish than Miss Amelia got straight to the heart of the meeting.
"So... you want to know about Carlton Harper… whom we know as Carp?"
Jess was so startled he nearly upset his newly poured drink. Captain Baldwin intervened.
"Amelia... I haven't got around to explaining to the lad yet... if you don't mind?"
"Please... do go ahead."
Jess idly noted that the captain was perfectly capable of abandoning his rough-hewn, unschooled veneer when it suited him.
"Amelia is a historian and authoress of some renown in certain circles. She writes scholarly articles for such prestigious publications as Harper's, Scientific American, Atlantic Monthly and Royal Geographical Society. Her field of expertise is regional folklore. She's traveled extensively all over the world in pursuit of legends. However, since she's more or less retired these days, she's focused on folk tales here in Florida... and our local legends... such as Carp."
"Carp's a legend?" Jess was astounded. "You... you know my brother?"
"Indeed I do... and may I say, the resemblance is uncanny! Were it not for the age difference you could have been twins."
How does she know so much about us?
Jess wasn't sure why he was so pleased to hear that. Maybe because it confirmed what he wanted to believe... that this Carp really was his brother?
"Take it away, Amelia." Cap'n Booger lounged back in his chair to accept from Otis a fine Havana cigar and silver cutter. With a nod of permission from the lady, Otis lit the captain's cigar.
"Close yer mouth, son. Yer lettin' in the flies," the captain joshed.
"Carlton turned up here looking for work in... oh, I believe it was about 1849? He was around seventeen then—as scrawny and sorry a specimen as I'd ever seen. I prevailed upon Mister Pettus to give him a job in the stables and, further, to allow me to teach the boy to read and write… along with the children of our servants—which was against the law, of course, but my brother adored me and gave me great latitude in management of the household staff."
If it was against the law, then these 'servants' musta been slaves...
"Carlton was extremely bright and a quick study. Marvelous with horses. In four years he advanced to stable manager. Allen—my brother—put him in charge of training our racehorses. He was paid bonuses commensurate with their success at the track and by 1855 he'd put by enough to make a down payment on the property where he intended to establish a farm. Over the years he'd confided to me the particulars of his... your... dreadful upbringing, which served to confirm my belief that with proper education anyone can rise above his antecedents to become anything he wishes."
For heaven's sake, lady... can you talk in words I can unnerstand?
"Did he ever say anything about Jonathan... our other brother what left at the same time?"
"He did mention that Jon intended to go out west, to the gold fields, but that he—Carlton—wasn't interested. They went their separate ways and lost contact. Carlton wasn't ambitious, in the sense he wasn't seeking riches. His ultimate goal was a farm and family of his own and he'd heard good reports of opportunities here in Florida.
"In 1859, he married the daughter of a family friend, resigned his position and took his bride to their new home on Turkey Creek. I can't say I approved of his choice—Minnie Ragsdale was a sweet, biddable girl but such a ninny! However, with our blessing the ceremony was performed right here in this house and we hosted a reception for them. None of us could have anticipated what lay down the road in two years' time."
Yeah... but how'd Carlton turn into Carp?
"We were proud of Carlton's decision to do his duty and distressed beyond measure when it appeared he'd been lost in the fighting. I suppose we could have done better by Minnie but, frankly, we were too embroiled in our own problems at the time."
Yeah... I'll just bet you were... poor rich folks.
"I had been a committed abolitionist from the time I was able to speak my own mind."
From the cradle, I bet...
"If I'd had my way, I would've emancipated our people long before Mister Lincoln got around to it, but Allen would have none of it. Many's the time we quarreled bitterly over the issue. Our fortunes depended on rice and sugar cane, he said. And while I'm loathe to admit it, he was right. All of this... everything you see around you, was built on the backs of our slaves."
... an' don't forget us poor white folk...
"After Carlton went away to war I never saw him again. Like everyone else, I assumed he had perished. Allen, too, passed away and I had my hands full running the estate. When the news came that Carlton had survived—though imprisoned—and had been released, we waited for him to come home. He never did, that we know of... until that terrible event occurred. I wrote to the commandant at Fort Pickens inquiring as to Carlton's condition and state of mind at the time of his release. I have here the letter I received in response, if you'd care to read it."
Hell yeah I wanna read it!
"Dear Miss Pettus, Regarding your recent inquiry concerning Captain Carlton J. Harper, I'm afraid the news is not serendipitous. Though we met in person on several occasions during his time here, I did not know him well. Upon review of the medical records kept by our attendant physician, Doctor Charles Ainsworth, it appears Captain Harper was in extremely poor physical condition at the time of his release, having not made a complete recovery from wounds sustained during the Battle of Mobile Bay. Furthermore, his psychological stability had significantly deteriorated.
The doctor was of the opinion Captain Harper should be remanded to a facility suitable for treatment of disturbances of the mind, along with others who obviously would encounter much difficulty in returning to civilian life. Unfortunately, we were unable to comply with that suggestion. Quite simply, there are no such facilities available in this area at this time, nor have we been provided with the funding necessary to transport mentally- or physically-impaired patients to other states where appropriate treatment might be obtained.
Captain Harper was provided with a horse, civilian clothing and a monetary allotment deemed sufficient to return him to his home. Beyond that, we have no idea what has become of him. I personally disagree with the federal government's view that we have no further responsibility toward veterans, disabled or otherwise, of our former adversary. However, I have no authority in such matters.
Very truly yours, Colonel Joseph W. Hunnicutt, Commandant, Fort Pickens Military Prison."
"I'm so sorry, Jess," Miss Amelia said quietly. "If there's any good in this, it's the possibility that he may still be alive. That is what I choose to believe. But you must accept that he's no longer the brother you remember... or the man I knew."
"I understand," Jess replied, devastated.
"In the seven years since, I've been collecting data on those people who have retreated from civilization and are now living in the swamplands and other inaccessible areas... and the local legends that have grown up around them. One such is the man known as 'Carp', who I believe is... or was... Carlton Harper.
"Shortly after his disappearance, a local widow by the name of Olivia Bentfield also went missing. The Bentfields and the Harpers were very close friends. There was public speculation that she might have run away with him. I am inclined to believe that this scenario is correct as Carlton and Olivia had often spoken admiringly of each other and had now found themselves unencumbered by mates.
"I have already arranged for transcription of all information pertinent to him, so that you will have a written account to accompany you as you continue your search. You are planning to continue, are you not?"
Jess gave Cap'n Booger a long beseeching look.
The captain nodded. "Yes, Amelia. We're goin' on with it," he said, adding, "Any knowledge of what became of the child?"
"None whatsoever. It's assumed he took her with him, if indeed he were there at all. If still alive, she would be thirteen now."