The black swan by Day Taylor Read Free Book Online Page B

was shaking her head.
    "Tom gone to the bayou. Good thing fo' you he is. What you want?"
    Adam's eyes ran approvingly over the tidy room, looking at everything in minute detail, everything except Ullah herself. "What happened to Old Man Welkins? He never said anything about leaving."
    " 'Pears as how he did, doan it?" she said saucily.
    "He always said he'd stay here as long as it took for the Yankees to come South and—^" Adam shrugged.

    "Do tell. That what you come fo'? Tell me 'bout Mistah Welkins?"
    He met her dark, expectant eyes. "I came to apologize for last evening. I shouldn't have talked to you as I did. I'm sorry for that."
    UUah relaxed and smiled in satisfaction. "Ah knowed that already."
    He looked up at her, surprised.
    "Sho' Ah did, an' Ah tol' Tom. But he wasn't much fo* Us'nin'."
    Adam shifted his weight, began to speak, then bit his lower lip.
    "Mebbe you wasn't 'tendin' to 'pologize to Tom."
    "I've got to be going. Beau—^my friends are waiting for me. I just wanted to tell you that you were right last everdng. My mother would have been ashamed, and so was I." Hurriedly he made for the door.
    "AdamI"
    He turned on the path from the house, looking back at her.
    "You come back heah, Adam. It ain't me you owe a 'pology. It's Tom."
    His expression was closed and stubborn. "I've got to be going."
    "You a gent'man, Adam?'*
    "Yes, ma'am. Well, most of the time."
    "If you wanta be a gent'man you proud o* bein', you starts today. Go make yo* manners to Tom. Then you come back heah, an* I'll mebbe have some lemonade an' mulatto bellies all hot an' ready fo' you." She smiled.
    He stood where he was, stubborn, desiring to obey, yet uncertain.
    "Pridefull" she scolded him gently. "Go on, now!"
    Ullah went into the house. She began to make the batter for the ginger cookies. No use lookin* on the dark side o* things when there's a hope the bright will come out. She began to sing. She wouldn't even go to the window to see if he was going toward the swamp. He was her black swan. That Adam boy would be the first friend Tom would have in these bayous. He was a sign.
    Adam took his time. It was one thing to apologize to UUah. He had wanted to, had instinctively liked her from the outset. But Tom was another matter. Adam had never

    felt trusting toward any man. His memories of Paul Tre-main were filled with hostility bred out of fear. He had grown up seeking his satisfactions out of range of his father's eye, encouraged to by his mother, driven to do so when Tremain's baleful glare was directed at him.
    He knew the bayous intimately, having spent days there sometimes alone, more generally with his friends Ben West and Beau LeClerc, exploring the many channels, visiting with the families that lived nestled within its confines.
    Even before his father's death, Adam was determined to become a better man than Paul Tremain. But widowed Zoe Tremain had no men friends. There was no individual her son wished to emulate. So he read much and observed and analyzed his friends and the men he knew. He created for himself a lofty pattern of perfection.
    Only sometimes, Adam admitted ruefully, the pattern slid out of reach. Right now all the old hostilities were with him as he moved with the quiet, easy grace of one familiar with the marshy terrain.
    He winced as he saw Tom, his knee pressed tight against a fallen tree, wielding the broadax with an ungainliness that defied the continuance of life. Fascinated, he forgot his reluctance to apologize. "Mr. Pierson.'*
    The ax hit crookedly on the trunk, jolted, and flew from Tom's grasp, Tom clutched his throbbing hand, holding it tightly between his legs.
    Adam stared. "Did you cut yourself?'*
    "No! Damn! I told you never to show your face heah again." Tom began to walk with menacing determination toward Adam. The boy didn't look as cocky today as he had yesterday; still, there was that air of self-sure calm about him. Tom would make him show some respectful fear if it was the last thing he