Specially if you’re going to be out there working in the field like a plantation hand.” She sniffed.
Filmore reappeared in the doorway, but remained silent, just stooping there,
looking in.
“There’s easier ways to make money,” Iola said.
“Like what?”
“Well, if your boy’s any kind of shot, you can get between two fifty and five dollars for a deer in Detroit. I seen you got a wagon, so you ain’t got no problem
getting it there. You ever making a trip like that, we’ll be glad to share it with you. Pay our way. Filmore’s been chopping cord wood to sell to the railroad.”
“They pay money for wood?” Olivia asked.
“Seven shillings a cord, but you got to get it to the depot office in Detroit. But
they pay in Michigan state scrip, which is only good for its face to pay your state
taxes. You want real money, you got to sell it for six shillings on a dollar. Man
can still make two dollars a day chopping wood, but sure is easier to shoot a deer.” She took a sip of her coffee and sighed before going on.
“Too bad for us, my Filmore ain’t never been much of a hunter. Can’t follow
a blood trail for his life, not even in snow, bless him. But them niggers are good
at it. It’s in their African blood. And if your boy sees any coons, their skins go
for a dollar apiece. But there ain’t no better money than getting a wolf in your
sights. Got a bounty on those devils – 25 dollars each. Nobody gives a hoot what
shape the pelt’s in neither. All they want is proof that the mangy critter is dead.
You take the skin to Squire Goodel in Detroit, down by the river.”
“Are there a lot of wolves around here?”
“Sometimes I think they eat more of my chickens than we do. Folks say that
if they keep laying railroad track and blowing them whistles, time’ll come soon
we ain’t gonna have to worry about no wolves no more. But for now they’re still
a worry.”
“I’m surprised nobody’s penned them up for breeding, if they’re worth that
much.”
Iola slapped the table and cackled. “Now, there’s a thought. Folks would just
about kill anyone tried that. Ain’t nothing they hate more than a wolf. You’re looking a little peeked, child. That time of the month?”
This question sent Filmore backing out of the cabin again.
“No, I’m just tired,” Olivia said. “It’s been a long week.”
“Aren’t they all? But listen child, next time you got the curse coming on you,
you drink some of this special tea of mine.” She pulled a small packet out of her
pocket. “You make yourself three cups a day, you won’t have no pains at all.”
They sat talking for another half-hour. Iola tried to pry more information out
of Olivia, but Olivia politely avoided answering the questions that were too
personal. But Iola’s nosiness no longer angered Olivia. Wasn’t that the way
women were? Wasn’t that how they made friends? It made Olivia feel grown up
to be chatting with another woman. When Iola touched her and called her “dear”
and “child,” she felt less lonely.
“Yula, we got us a long walk home.” Filmore appeared in the doorway again.
