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The Sweetness of Water(95)

Author:Nathan Harris

“Mrs. Walker told me what you did,” Clementine said. “To Wade Webler. That’s courage, Prentiss. Maybe not smart. You’re behind these bars—let’s not pass that over.”

He laughed again, though the no-nonsense warmth of her humor nearly broke his heart.

“But there are some things we’re called to do,” she said. “Being a woman, and an authority on such things, I can tell you that I for one am swooned, and I’m sure Delpha was, too.”

These precious and unexpected minutes had passed swiftly, and the night was growing long. Hackstedde would make her leave soon, Prentiss knew, and he was fearful of being robbed of her presence, of losing her to the shadows and facing the dark alone. He knew what would follow the darkness, the end that would find him when they carried him from his cell. He shuddered and swept the thought from his mind once more.

“Tell me of you,” he said.

She asked if he’d heard of New Orleans. It was where she was from. In New Orleans, she said, the men wore clothes more garish than the women, and there were parties every night. Drinks flowed endlessly. Faces were hidden by masks. The port was built to hold hundreds of ships, schooners, and steamers, and those who were of the disposition to do so could travel all over the world. And there was a market the size of Old Ox itself, haggling so loud you couldn’t hear your own voice.

“You take yourself to a horse race,” she said, “and you’ll see Negroes, mulattoes, white men, Frenchmen, all packed together.”

Prentiss had never heard of a place so peculiar, and he could only imagine how distant it must be from Old Ox. How stupid he must look to her in his shock.

She laughed at him, a little teasingly.

“You have to see it to believe it, I know.”

“And you came here? From there?”

“That’s a longer story,” she said. “One I fear I don’t have time to tell.”

Every minute with Clementine was so spontaneous, so freeing, that he didn’t think he could bear to watch her go.

“What if I was free? Would you meet me?”

“The men I meet”—she rolled her eyes—“you don’t want the association, believe me.”

Not at her workplace, he said. New Orleans. Baltimore. Anywhere else might do.

“Ah, we would run away! But what of my daughter? My Elsy? I don’t think you’d want the extra worry.”

They were playing with each other. Yet he couldn’t help believing in the imaginary world they were conjuring together. What else was there for him to hold on to?

“I lost a lot,” he said. “Ain’t got to tell you that. But my heart’s grown with all that pain, I like to think. Always making room for what might come. A daughter would fit that bill real nice. Maybe more than one, even.”

Perhaps he was fooling himself, but Clementine appeared to be enjoying the game as much as he was.

“That is the sweetest thing a man has said to me,” she told him.

“I got more like that one stored up,” he said. “Ain’t never had no girl to speak ’em to.”

“Except Delpha.”

“We saw how that worked out.”

She grew oddly stern, her eyes narrow and searching.

“Have you touched a woman before, Prentiss?”

He seized up, pulled into himself, shook his head.

“Just my mama,” he said. “Isabelle for a hug.”

She looked back at Hackstedde, who was pretending to read his paper a mere few yards from them, yet in that moment the man felt to Prentiss an ocean away. Clementine reached between the bars. She nodded at Prentiss, and he reached forward and curled up her fingers, sealing her hand within his own. It was the softest thing he’d ever felt—nothing compared.

She leaned forward. Her voice was so close it rattled the inside of his head.

“I would go with you,” she whispered.

There was a snap, like the sound of a whip striking its target. Hackstedde was folding his paper.

“I’m just overjoyed you two got to reunite,” he said. “But visiting hours are over. Time to say your goodbyes.”

When Clementine did not move, Hackstedde stared at her unyieldingly. Finally she rose, and the sudden movement pulled Prentiss to his feet as though they were tethered to the same rope.

“You tell the Walkers I’m getting on,” he said. “That I’m more than fine.”

“I will,” she said, then paused a beat, giving him a once-over. “Don’t give up hope, you hear? Find your strength and protect it.”

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