Belle's baby

Rhett Butler had received a message from Belle Watling. It came to him through a young errand boy, a thin freed boy of mixed race who was paid to sweep up and empty ashtrays at Belle’s house of ill repute. The boy stood outside the study at Rhett and Scarlett’s house and threw pebbles at the etched glass window panes. When at last Rhett opened the heavy windows, threw up the sash, and looked outside, the boy darted over and dropped in Rhett’s hand a note written on Belle’s distinctive stationery, the embossed B and W at the top of the thick ivory paper written in gold, curling script. 

Luckily, it was late and Scarlett had already retired for the evening. Rhett, as he was often wont to do, had been alone in the study brooding and drinking his whiskey. As he sipped his whiskey, he morosely stared at the portrait of Scarlett hanging on the wall. It showed her in her full glory, attired in a low cut velvet gown, her white shoulders and bosom shining against the deep red of the dress like a translucent pearl. Her lips were equally red and her luxurious black hair billowed around her. The artist had captured the spirited, mocking gleam that frequently appeared in her eyes, a challenge that never failed to arouse Rhett. The come hither if you dare look was the one that had initially attracted her to him, that momentous first day at Twelve Oaks plantation. Rhett had quickly discovered that Scarlett was not meek and mild like all of the other Southern belles. She was one of a kind. Like him, she was no “gentleman”, or gentlewoman as the case might be.

Unfortunately, she was not his. He knew that her heart belonged to another – Ashley Wilkes. He had discovered that fact long ago, and it continued to be true, even though Rhett and Scarlett were now married and had a child together, Bonnie Blue Butler. It was this painful realization that frequently drove him to Belle Watling’s brothel and had led him to his current tangled mess – a mess that was rapidly becoming even messier as evidenced by the alarming words on the recently delivered note. 

Come right now. My time is imminent. We will soon have a visitor. B

After delivering this message, the boy crossed over to the other side of town, to where the Yankees had their headquarters in an old stable, the very same stable where Rhett himself had once been held prisoner. He delivered the exact same message to the Yankee captain, Tom Johnson. 

Come right now. My time is imminent. We will soon have a visitor. B

Although it was quite late (the clock had just struck midnight), both men hurried over to the brothel. Rhett rode on a large black stallion, a fine mount he had managed to win in a card game from Johnson himself, back when they were still on good terms. At one time, they had played poker together, warden vs. prisoner, North vs. South. For a while, Rhett lost heavily to Captain Johnson, but then his luck slowly began to change until he finally won the prized stallion he coveted from his jailer.

Rhett pulled up at Belle’s, tying his mount to the hitching post in front of the building. Captain Johnson arrived at roughly the same time. Tom looked over and saw Rhett dismounting his favorite horse, and he burned inside. Why did this Rhett Butler have to steal everything that was his? First his horse, and now his woman? 

Tom wanted desperately for Belle to be his exclusively. He didn’t care that she was a Southerner, nor that she was the immoral madam of a thriving brothel. He was in love with her and didn’t want to share her with anyone else. To his dismay, he quickly discovered that Belle had some sort of strange tie to Rhett Butler, an intimate connection. He had seen Rhett at Belle’s place many times, despite Rhett’s marriage to a well known southern belle, Scarlett O’Hara Butler. (Scarlett had been married and widowed twice before marrying Rhett, being married to two Confederates who had more or less died in the line of duty: Charles Hamilton and Frank Kennedy.) 

One or two less rebels in the world didn’t bother Captain Johnson in the slightest. As a matter of fact, he often wished that Rhett would join the ranks of Scarlett's deceased husbands in gray. Tom didn’t understand the relationship between Belle and Butler. What sort of hold did Rhett have on Belle? 

If Captain Johnson only knew the truth, it would kill him. Belle was head over heels in love with Rhett. Belle in turn knew that Rhett was still in love with Scarlett. She tried to tell Rhett that Scarlett was poison to him, but he wouldn’t listen. One night when he was particularly despondent over Scarlett’s actions and apparent lack of interest, Belle had comforted him in the only way she knew how, by giving him her ample woman’s body. She would have given him anything, if only it were to make his everlasting, excruciating heartache go away.

The result of that night was that she was now pregnant and about to give birth. Well, she thinks it was because of that night. It could have also been from the one time she slept with the Yankee captain. She had only slept with him once to make Rhett jealous, but Rhett refused to take the bait. Rhett simply saw Belle as a confidant, a colleague, a friend, an astute businesswoman just like his wife. As he told her frequently though, Belle had a heart, something Scarlett lacked. He found himself craving Belle’s softness. He had quickly and easily tumbled right into her clutches and into her bed. For just one night, which he later regretted, she had made him feel better. Strangely enough, even though Scarlett rarely gave him the time of day and had wounded him many times with her cruelty and emotional infidelity, he felt unaccountably guilty. He had physically cheated on her, and although he often told himself he didn't give a damn, he actually did.

Now, all three of them were in a rare pickle, since no one knew which man’s child Belle now carried. Would her child be a Confederate or a Yankee? A Butler or a Johnson? They might never know. As a madam of a brothel, Belle really should have known better and not played such a dangerous game of Russian roulette with her body. She should have somehow prevented the pregnancy. Deep down, however, she wished with all of her heart that the child was Rhett’s. The fling with Captain Johnson was nothing more than a one night stand. Her love affair, such as it was, with Rhett had been going on for many bittersweet years. She was strongly attracted to him and she sensed in him a kindred spirit. Her love for him was pure and resolute, something that would never change.

To further complicate matters, Tom and Rhett, once friends, were now enemies. From what Belle had gathered, it all began when the Yankee captain was investigating the shooting on Decatur Road, and the clearing out of the “riff raff” in shanty town by a few Southern gentlemen. The Yankees were trying to teach the southerners the lesson that they couldn’t take the law into their own hands. Butler had covered for himself and his vigilante southern friends, including the honorable Ashley Wilkes and the esteemed Dr. Meade, by claiming that all three men had been at Belle’s that night. Of course, Belle had corroborated his story. Without fault, she always had Rhett’s back. After all, she would do anything for Rhett, even if it meant lying and cheating for him.

Much to his embarrassment, Tom later learned her story was simply not true. All three southerners, Rhett included, had indeed been involved in the violent events on Decatur Road that night. He felt that Rhett had played him for a fool. Rhett always seemed to get his way. Even throwing him in prison had little effect on him, either on his wayward behavior or on his love life. To add insult to injury, the Yankees never did locate the source of his much discussed and long, searched for caches of gold, and Rhett continued to live high off the hog.

To make matters even worse, Rhett continued his work as a blockade runner, easily outwitting even the most seasoned Yankee ship captains. On Rhett’s part, he was not as incensed by Captain Johnson. The animosity was not quite reciprocated at the same level. Nevertheless, he regarded Captain Johson as an annoying, pesky fly. He wanted to sort out this dilemma with Belle on his own, and not be part of this convoluted baby mess with another man, let alone a Yankee.

Despite their mutual dislike for each other, both men were there for Belle. Entering her lavishly decorated room, they soon discovered that Belle’s labor was progressing quickly and painfully. Rhett laid a comforting hand on Belle’s forehead. She was lying in bed with a cool cloth on her head. Captain Johnson stood on her other side, rubbing her shoulder gently.

Her contractions were now coming closer together, maybe five minutes apart. Rhett and Tom heard the rapid panting of her breath and the faint ticking of the clock. The air was hot and still, apart from the sound of Belle’s labored breathing. 

“Gentlemen?"

Despite Belle’s discomfort, her voice was strong and clear. Rhett was suddenly reminded of the calm, cool business woman she was. Nothing seemed to rattle her, not even the imminent birth of her child.

“Yes Belle?” Rhett answered.

“What dearest?” said Captain Johnson.

“There is some business we need to attend to.” She stated firmly. “Rhett, can you go find my lawyer, Mr. Reeves, and ask him to come in?”

Rhett knew better than to be surprised by anything Belle did. If it made her feel better, he would move heaven and earth to get her what she wanted.

Rhett quickly exited the room. He entered the main tavern area which was filled with tables and the smell of cheap perfume and cigar smoke. The room was bordered on one side by a long, polished chestnut bar. The lawyer was sitting at the bar in front of a tumbler of scotch, his cigar burning with a pleasant, warm smell in a crystal ashtray. 

“Mr. Reeves?”

The man looked up. “Is Belle ready for me?”

Rhett was not surprised that Belle had already made some sort of legal arrangement. She was nothing if not a shrewd business woman.

“Yes. Her time approaches.”

Reeves gathered a sheaf of papers, his reading glasses, and a quilled pen. He followed Rhett into Belle’s private quarters where Captain Johnson was waiting nervously. He was now pacing the floor. Butler felt that the Yankee captain would have rather been surrounded by a battalion of armed Confederate soldiers out for blood then one lone woman and her soon to be born child. 

“Captain Johnson, I presume?” Reeves asked.

Johnson nodded.

“May I proceed with the reading of the agreement?” Reeves asked Belle gently.

Belle nodded, her face suddenly going stark white as another contraction swept forcefully over her. 

“Please expedite the matter,” she said through gritted teeth. “My time is nigh.”

“Yes, ma'am. Gentlemen, please give me your full attention as I read this legally binding document which Belle has asked me to witness the two of you signing. Are you both ready for the reading?”

Butler swallowed and nodded, his mouth suddenly dry.

Johnson had finally stopped pacing and looked positively green, but he also gave a weak nod.

Reeves cleared his throat. “Not knowing which one of you is the father, Belle has asked for equal and full support for her child from infancy through age eighteen. In return, she will never disclose the parentage of said child to either of your wives and will raise the child far away from Atlanta, in the town of New Orleans. Visitation of the child is at the discretion of each father, with adequate notice to Belle. All decisions regarding the child’s education and medical care are solely left to Belle, with the fathers providing equal financial support for any and all of the child’s needs. Belle is to submit regular invoices listing her expenditures which will be equally divided between the two of you.”

Suddenly Belle yelled out as another painful contraction rippled through her, like the wave of a once calm ocean before a frightening storm. 

“If you both agree to these terms and conditions, raise your right hand and repeat after me in turn, ‘I do’. First you, Mr. Rhett Butler, and then Captain Johnson.”

Rhett raised his right hand, his signet ring catching the light of the lamp which glowed softly at the head of Belle’s bed. He looked Belle full in the eyes, promising her something with his gentle, strong gaze. 

“I do,” he said forcefully.

“And now you, Captain Johnson,” Reeves continued.

“I do,” Johnson croaked from behind a suddenly painful lump in his throat.

“Excellent. And now if you would both sign and date the agreement at the bottom. Again, Mr. Butler and then, Captain Johnson.”

Rhett signed his name with a flourish, before turning the pen over to the Yankee captain. Captain Johnson’s hand was shaking, but he somehow managed to finally sign the document.

The lawyer then summarily added his own name at the bottom as a witness.

“And now, Belle has asked me to escort you gentlemen to the bar. She prefers to be alone with the midwife during the birth of her child. You will be invited back into the room to see him or her once it is born.”

Rhett expelled a long sigh of relief.

“Good, I can really use a stiff shot of whiskey. How about you, Captain?”

“Yeah, me too."

Captain Johnson looked like he couldn't escape the room fast enough. The two men sat at a table in the corner, the whiskey bottle in front of them. Rhett poured them each a full shot that they both immediately slung back in tandem, the strong spirits burning a fire all the way down to their respective black souls.

“Do you think this unique arrangement will work?” Johnson asked softly.

“I do."

Author's note: This story is of course inspired by "Gone with the Wind" by Margaret Mitchell.