Louis Collins: A Post-American Odyssey

Louis had not slept. He lay on his back with his boots still on and watched the ceiling. Across the room, Nicholas sat with the M14 across his knees and his hat pulled low. At first Louis thought the man had fallen asleep sitting upright. Then Nicholas’s eyes met his.

Nicholas stood with the M14 in one hand and said quietly, “Harris. Come.”

Louis got up at once. They moved through the room without stepping on anyone. A man on the floor stirred and muttered into his sleeve. Another slept with one arm over his face and a rifle beside him.

Nicholas led Louis through a narrow side passage and stopped at a door near the back. He knocked twice, waited, then knocked once more. The door opened a hand’s width. A thin man looked out, around forty, with a narrow face and tired eyes. He looked first at Nicholas, then at Louis, then past them into the hall.

“You shouldn’t be here, brother,” he said.

Nicholas pushed the door open enough to enter. “Neither should that negro girl.”

The man shut his eyes once and stepped back. Nicholas entered. Louis followed. IIt had once been a cooperative office. A metal desk sat under the window, and old ledgers filled one shelf. The man went behind the desk but did not sit.

Nicholas said, “Pike.”

Pike’s mouth tightened. “Nicholas. This isn’t the time or the place.”

Nicholas did not apologize. “The girl they brought in. Where is she?”

Pike looked at Louis again. “Who is he?”

“Friend,” Nicholas said. “Now where is she?”

Pike’s eyes moved over him. “Since when do you care about a nigger, Nicholas?”

“Since she was in my house with my daughter under the same roof,” Nicholas said, his voice low. “Now I’m asking again.”

Pike stared at him and breathed out through his nose. “You brought this to my door.”

“Look. The girl knows things about us.” Nicholas kept his voice low but hard. “If she talks to them, they will come to my farm. And they will find your name there.”

“If she talks.” Pike leaned forward slightly. “Then we make her not talk.”

Louis’s hands closed at his sides. Pike lowered his voice and looked toward the door. “A nigger girl fires on county patrol and dies resisting before morning. Happens all the time. We write it up that way. No one asks questions.”

“No,” Louis said.

Pike turned his head toward him. “You don’t get to say.”

Nicholas stood beside him and said nothing.

Louis stepped closer to the desk. “If you kill her, I will report you myself.”

Pike stared at him.

“Report?” Pike almost laughed. “You don’t look like the kind to snitch to the county.”

“Try me.”

“What do you care?”

Louis kept his voice steady. “I care about this one girl. And I will kill anyone who harms her.”

Pike glanced at Nicholas. “Who the hell did you bring me?”

Nicholas answered without looking away from Louis. “A man who knows what he wants.”

Pike looked Louis over, then turned back to Nicholas.

“Fine. We don’t kill her.” His voice grew harder. “But I can’t just let her walk away without being seen. That brings its own kind of trouble.”

“Let me see her,” Louis said.

“Do you have any idea what you’re asking for?”

“I know what I need to do. Put me there.” Louis leaned over the desk.

Pike looked at him. “You understand if this goes wrong, I never saw you.”

“Yes.”

Nicholas said, “Do it.”

Pike looked at Nicholas, then opened the ledger. His finger moved down a column.

“Name?” he asked.

Louis said, “George Harris.”

“George Harris. Temporary auxiliary.” He took a pencil and wrote something under a line of names. Then he reached into a drawer and removed a ring of keys.

“You lose these,” he said, “I’ll say I never met you. You understand?”

Louis took the keys. Pike took a paper slip, wrote on it, and handed it to Louis.

“Back room,” he said in his normal voice now. “Relieve Norris for outer door watch. Hold until rotation.”

“Understood.”

Pike looked at Nicholas again. “You too, brother. This doesn’t happen. And you and I don’t talk about it after tonight.”

Nicholas nodded once. “Done.”

Pike gestured to the door. “Go, then. And remember, I don’t know either of you.”

They left the office and walked back through the side hall. The clerk at the desk had not moved.

“I’ll be here,” Nicholas said quietly.

Louis nodded and went on alone. The holding area was behind an old sliding partition. Someone had reinforced the door with a crossbar and a new lock. A guard sat beside it with a carbine across his lap.

He looked up when Louis entered.

“Who are you?”

“Harris. Pike sent me.”

Louis handed him the slip.

The man squinted at it, then at Louis. “You new?”

“Yes.”

“Hell of a night to join.”

“It’s how it worked out.”

The man jerked his chin toward the back. “She’s in there. Hands and feet tied. Don’t get close unless you like getting bit.”

Only then did Louis look through the barred inner door. Savannah sat on the floor against the far wall. Her hands were tied in front of her with dirty rope. Another length bound her ankles. Her jacket was torn at one shoulder. Mud dried across one knee and along the side of her boot. A scrape ran high on her cheekbone, and dried blood marked the corner of her mouth. Her hair had come partly loose from its tie.

She looked at him. Then her gaze moved past him to Norris. Louis looked away and stepped to the wall beside the door, rifle low.

Norris shifted in the chair. “She gave patrol some trouble. Fought like a demon. Busted one of them in the mouth before they got her tied up.”

Savannah’s mouth moved. “They exaggerate.”

Norris snorted. “Hear that? Still got a mouth.”

Louis reached for a paper cup and filled it from a water dispenser in the corner. He made himself walk slowly. He crouched outside kicking range and held the cup through the bars, near her hands.

“Drink.”

Savannah looked at the cup, then at him. “Took you long enough.”

Norris laughed from the chair. “Mouth on her, ain’t there?”

Louis did not react. “Quiet keeps you alive.”

Savannah took the cup awkwardly between her bound hands and drank. Her fingers were swollen below the knots. She swallowed hard once, stopped, breathed, and drank again.

When she handed the cup back, she lowered her voice.

“I didn’t tell them.”

Louis took the cup.

“Good,” he whispered.

Norris glanced over. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Louis said. He stood up. “She’s asking for food.”

“Don’t have any.” Norris shifted in the chair and set the carbine across his knees. “Not until the morning.”

Louis went back to the wall and rested the M14 against it, one hand on the stock. Norris looked him over, then settled back.

“Pike must be short on men,” he said. “Bringing in a boy like you.”

“Heard it pays better than farming.”

Norris grunted. “Only if you live long enough to collect.”

“Planning on it.”

“Plan all you want.” Norris looked toward the ceiling. “The county takes what it needs. It doesn’t give a damn about your plans.”

“You don’t look happy about it.”

“I’m not.” Norris adjusted the carbine. “I’ve been on patrol since this morning. I’m tired, and my wife will ask me why I didn’t come home again.”

“Wives do that,” Louis said.

“That they do.” Norris almost smiled. “You married?”

“Not yet.”

“Smart boy. Save yourself the trouble.”

“Maybe.”

“Or maybe you’ll meet a girl like that one.” Norris tipped the carbine toward the cell. “Looks good until she pulls a knife on you.”

Louis kept his face still. “She doesn’t look like she has a knife now.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Norris laughed. “But I wouldn’t turn my back on her. Not for a second.”

“Good advice.”

“Yeah.” Norris shifted in the chair. “So where are you from, Harris?”

“North Carolina,” Louis said. “You?”

“Born and raised here.” Norris gestured toward the ceiling. “Never left the county. Don’t see why I should.”

“What did you do before this?”

“Butcher. Had a shop in town. Good business. Then the county needed men. So here I am.”

“That’s rough,” Louis said.

“Tell me about it.” Norris leaned back. “I miss my shop. Good meat. Clean cuts. Customers who paid on time.”

Louis watched him. “Would you give me a discount if I came to your shop?”

Norris laughed. “Sure. First cut on me. If we ever get out of here.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Do that.” Norris looked toward the cell. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Equipment sales,” Louis said.

“Equipment sales?” Norris raised an eyebrow. “What kind of equipment?”

“Televisions and stereos,” Louis said.

Norris laughed. “You’re kidding me. What are you doing here?”

“Visiting kinsfolk,” Louis said. “Got drafted into this.”

“Tough luck,” Norris said. “You should have stayed in North Carolina.”

“Couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Family,” Louis said. “Their farm is short-handed.”

Norris nodded. “Family is important.”

“Yeah,” Louis said. “It is.”

Norris looked at his watch and sighed.

“I need to take a dump,” he said. “You good here?”

“Yes,” Louis said.

Norris stood and slung the carbine. “Don’t let her talk you into anything. And if she moves, you shoot.”

“Understood.”

Norris left the room. The outer door closed behind him. Louis turned back toward Savannah. She had not moved. The lamplight showed the scrape on her cheek. She looked tired. Her eyes were still hard. He went to the cell door and unlocked it with one of the keys. The lock clicked open. He opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him. Then he knelt beside her and began working on the ropes around her wrists.

“Can you walk?” he whispered.

She nodded once. “Yes.”

He freed her hands first. Red lines marked her wrists. She flexed her fingers slowly, feeling return. He moved to her ankles. She kept her eyes on the cell door.

“Why did you leave the farm?” he asked.

Her voice was low and rough. “We thought they were gonna find out who you are. Gladice and I came for recon. Didn’t expect patrols on the back roads already.”

The ankle rope was tighter. He had to pull at it with both hands. Savannah watched him work, then looked back to the door.

“Is Gladice safe?”

“She got away.” Savannah lowered her voice even more. “She’ll go back to the farm.”

Louis nodded. He stood and offered his hand. She took it and rose with more control than he expected. He steadied her. Her weight shifted against him before she caught herself.

“I am getting you out of here,” he said.

She looked at him. “How?”

“Nicholas is helping. We have the keys. We will figure it out. Now let’s move.”

He opened the cell door again and stepped out. Then he took one of the ropes, wrapped it twice around her wrists, and tucked the end under the loop instead of knotting it. It would pass from a distance. Savannah understood. She brought her hands together and let them hang in front of her. They moved for the door. Louis kept one hand on her arm. He felt the muscle in her arm under his hand and kept walking.

They stepped through the first door. The hallway beyond was empty. Louis turned toward the back office. A boot scraped ahead. Norris came around the corner, tucking in his shirt. His eyes went from Louis to Savannah and back.

“Harris,” he said. “What the hell are you doing?”