Savage Flames

“What will I hate to hear?” Hiram shouted, suddenly lashing the belt across the belly of the woman who had been brave enough to speak to him. “You’d better tell me the rest of it, or I’ll do even worse to you.”

The young woman cried hard as she clutched her belly. She was too distraught to respond to Hiram. She was afraid she’d say the wrong thing and be hit again.

“I’ll tell you,” one of the older women said as she stepped in front of the crying slave. “Just don’ whip this gal again.”

“Well, then, say it,” Hiram shouted. “And you’d better be quick about it, do you hear?”

“Yes, suh, I’se understand,” she said, still standing tall and straight as she gazed directly into his one eye. “Many of your slaves are gone, but there are enough left to tend the fields. Massa Hiram, they are afraid of what you might do to us because the others have left. And Massa Hiram, we have no idea where Twila has gone. She’s just gone.”

Hiram was shocked at the thought of so many of his slaves running away. Surely they were long goneby now. They’d had plenty of time to get away as he lay in his bed in a drunken stupor.

“Your overseer also left,” the woman quickly added. “Those who are workin’ the fields are doin’ it out of loyalty to you, Massa Hiram. And they are doin’ fine without the whip of the overseer.”

Hiram stood there for a moment longer, absorbing all that he had been told. He was stunned that his overseer had walked out on him. If you couldn’t depend on your overseer, who was paid well for his services, then who could you depend on?

“I appreciate your tellin’ me everything,” Hiram said, looking from one slave to another. “Now get out of this pantry and get to work. I’ll be expecting some mighty good food on my dining table after I return from speaking with Colonel Cox at the fort.” He leaned into each of the servants’ faces in turn, hoping to intimidate them into obeying him.

“If you leave, I won’t be far behind,” he warned. “As for those who have already left, they’ll pay for their disobedience. I’m going to find them. Do you hear? I’m going to find them! They are gone for now. But you’re still here. And I expect you to obey me, same as always. Do you understand?”

They all nodded, then filed past him out of the pantry.

They scurried through the house, returning to their usual chores, each one different.

“That’s more like it,” Hiram muttered.

He went to his gun cabinet, unlocked it, and took a rifle from it, too rattled by all that had happened to miss the rifle Lavinia had taken.

He grabbed a pocketful of bullets, then went outside and stood at the edge of the tobacco field.

He mentally counted how many slaves were still there, stunned at how many had deserted him.

He hurried to one of the heftiest men and grabbed him by the arm. “In which direction did those slaves who deserted me go?” he asked, his jaw tight.

“North,” the man said, pointing in that direction.

That meant that the runaway slaves had not gone into the Everglades to hide. They were headed out of Florida.

His jaw tightened as he stepped away from the slave and stood with his hands on his hips. He just couldn’t let the runaway slaves go.

Surely with the colonel’s help, they could be found. If so, he’d punish them good and then give them the hardest work he could come up with.

“Get back to work,” he said, turning and glaring at those who had stopped to stare at him. “Now. Do you hear? Now. And don’t you think of tryin’ to escape while I’m gone. I’ll be back soon. You’d best be here.”

They all nodded quickly and returned to their harvesting of the tobacco.

Hiram ran to the stable and threw a saddle onto his best steed, a white mare, and mounted it. Then he rode off, ignoring the hunger that ate away at his gut. He’d already lost too much time by lying in bed, wallowing in self-pity for having lost Lavinia.

Once he reached Fort Adams, Hiram wasted no time in getting to Colonel Cox’s office.

He saw the look the colonel gave him and understood the reason for it. Hiram had never allowed himself to look so disheveled in the presence of others.

But that was the least of his concerns. He wanted his slaves back and would go to any length to reclaim them.

“Well, now, look what the cat dragged in,” Colonel Cox said, gazing at Hiram over his desk. “Lord, man, have you forgotten how to shave and bathe? And look at your clothes. Aren’t those the same duds you wore when we were playing poker the other night?”

He sniffed and frowned. “And do you know how bad you stink?” he said, waving a hand toward Hiram. “Step back. Do you hear? Step back away from my desk and then tell me why you’re here so you can leave. I don’t savor havin’ your company in this condition.”

“I need help,” Hiram said, ignoring Cox’s command to step back. Instead, he placed the palms of his hands on the desk and leaned even closer to the colonel. “Fred, did you hear me? I need your help.”