Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (8 page)

Daddy nudged me along without saying a word
or looking back to Mammy and without acknowledging Hamilton
again.

His pace was brisk, and although I could
barely keep up, unable to avoid the rocks that pierced my feet, I
remained silent. When he reached the mansion, Daddy shot up the
back stairway and went off to his wing without addressing me. There
was no reprimand, no lecture. He didn’t have to say any of those
things. I was completely ashamed.

Our buggy ride to church the next morning was
uncomfortable, to say the least. Daddy couldn’t bear to look my way
without clearing his throat, shifting in his seat, and appearing
flushed, while Eugenia glared at me from across her seat beside her
two haughty daughters. They boasted about how lovely they looked in
their new dresses. Even Beatrice was pompous; she was slowly coming
out of her shell to be a true duplicate of her sister. Daddy was
even more uncomfortable with Hamilton as our driver, but he didn’t
protest. Hattie stayed behind, and I learned from Helen that she
was sick again. When Eugenia overheard this, she nearly collapsed
with worry.

“What’s wrong with the girl? Has she scarlet
fever, typhoid fever?” she said anxiously and pulled her daughters
to her side.

“No, ma’am. Hattie just gits fevers d’at come
and go. No harm come of it.”

Eugenia turned pale with fear. “My sister
died from typhoid fever.”

“Ain’t no one gonna die today,” Helen said,
continuing to sweep the floor.

“Who knows that kind of diseases your kind
carry!”

Eugenia flew out of the room with her girls
by her side, apparently fearing they would catch something from
Helen.

“Guessin’ she don’t know d’at if she gonna
catch somethin’ from
our kind
, it gonna be Masta who’d be
givin’ it to her,” she mumbled under her breath, apparently
forgetting I was in the room as she swept the floor, seeming to be
consumed with her own thoughts. Helen often talked to herself,
never fearing who might overhear.

Church was unbelievably stuffy and hot for so
early in the morning. The Montgomery’s were there to greet us, and
it was really the first time it occurred to me that we were now
related by marriage.

Eugenia took her seat beside Daddy, and I
found myself at the end of the pew, as far away from the Norton
sisters as I could sit. Perry and Myrna Montgomery sat behind us,
along with his parents.

All eyes were on Eugenia, as this was the
first time we were all out in public together as the
new
Arrington family. Some of the single women, daughters and widows of
rich plantation owners, seemed obviously disappointed with Daddy’s
new status as a married man. Pretty women who had batted their long
lashes at him and pined for his attention from afar now sat sullen
and uninterested.

Eugenia sat proudly beside Daddy, her head
high, her expression confident and dignified. When the procession
began, she stood like a queen beside her king, while I felt as
insignificant as a peasant, but only until I began to sing.

Eugenia’s eyes widened with surprise and
slowly turned to a steely glare, with her mouth twisted so tight it
drained the color from her thin lips until they were pasty white.
Beatrice and Violet seemed stunned and stared up at Daddy, who
smiled proudly while he sang the hymn along with the
congregation.

During every hymn, Eugenia subtly shook her
head in displeasure, as if the sound of my voice was piercing her
ears. She appeared so consumed that she didn’t notice her nephew
leaning in from behind, standing so close that I could feel the
heat of his breath move the strands of hair that lay against my
neck. I even thought I felt his finger graze against my shoulder as
he held the book open for himself and his wife. His girls were so
fidgety and the baby so consistently fussy that his wife spent most
of her time as inconspicuously as possible hushing them.

I turned slightly to look at him. His dark
eyes were fixed on the hymn book, while he stood straight and
strong. An instant daydream filled my thoughts. Perry Montgomery
was kissing me just the way Daddy did Mammy.

It wasn’t until Reverend Carter began the
Lord’s Prayer that I suddenly snapped to my senses and felt
shamefully full of sin. I didn’t want Eugenia to be right about me.
I didn’t want to be like those girls she mentioned - loose women. I
was going to have to battle my own daydreams and the new grown-up
urges that were rushing through me. Not only to prove Eugenia
wrong, but to protect myself from the kind of pleasure that only
too often, nine months later, took women like my own mummy to their
graves.

When we returned to Sutton Hall I made myself
scarce, staying far away from Perry Montgomery. I headed to the
cabins to see how Hattie was feeling and to apologize for my
atrocious behavior. I wanted her companionship more than ever.

Mammy was outside hanging the washing.

“Is Hattie feeling any better, Mammy?”

“She is. Go in and see her.”

Hattie was sitting up in her bed reading a
book aloud to Jacob Thomas, who cooed and flailed around in the
cradle. When she noticed me standing in the doorway, she continued
reading as if she hadn’t seen me.

I waited patiently for her to finish and then
went and stood beside the bed. Hattie and I rarely fought, and when
we did, she was usually most forgiving. This time, however, a
stubbornness showed in her that I tried to understand.

“How are you feeling?”

She placed the book next to her and turned to
her side to peer down at the baby.

“I’m fine.”

“Sure is a hot day.”

“I suppose.”

“Can’t you forgive me? I know I was harsh.
The things I said were absolutely uncalled for.”

She swung her eyes up at me, revealing my
reflection in her tears.

“Things aren’t the same for you and me,” I
said wistfully, taking hold of her hand, “but we will always have
each other. You’re my very best friend, my sister, my better half.
That will never change.”

“I forgive you,” she said through a genuine
smile. “Can’t ever stay mad at you, though sometimes I want
to.”

We hugged and laughed and then we brought our
brother up onto the bed with us.

“As soon as Jacob Thomas is big enough, as
soon as he can walk, we’ll teach him how to fish,” I said, as he
grasped my finger with his pudgy little hand.

“And swim in the river.”

“And catch frogs,” I added.

After a long silence, Hattie asked, “Do you
like having a momma - a real momma?”

“Mrs. Norton is not my momma, nor ever will
she be. She is the meanest person I have ever known.”

“Meaner than Mr. Giles?”

“One hundred times meaner! She looks at me
with eyes as cold as stone.”

“Why did your daddy marry her?” she asked
with a voice so full of hurt it pained my heart. “He doesn’t love
her, does he?”

I shook my head. “Not even a little.”

“Do you think he still loves my momma?”

“I know he still loves Mammy.” I tried to
hide my blush behind the long strands of hair that fell near to my
face.

Between us, we shared a bond, a real
lifeblood bond that was our brother. No new marriage could take
that away. Through Jacob Thomas, Hattie and I had become real
sisters, and from that day forward we leaned on each other more
than ever. The secrets, lies, and sins we shared remained strictly
within the union of our sisterhood.

* * *

Life during the months to follow took a
dramatic turn. In some ways I cherish that period, though I can
honestly say I didn’t feel that way at the time. The world seemed
to be going forward at an escalating rate, like a locomotive, so
fast the ground underneath felt unsteady.

Without much warning, or perhaps because I
wasn’t paying close enough attention, the world as I knew it was no
longer mine to make of what I wanted.

When Daddy left for the Southerners’
Commercial Convention, along with Perry Montgomery, I was left in
the care of Eugenia and governess, Mlle. Collette Duval. She wasn’t
English as I had expected, but French. She was a small woman,
probably near Eugenia’s age. She had thin silvery hair, pulled back
into a tight bun, and small, black, beady eyes which only reminded
me of a vile mouse.

She spoke exclusively in French, and to my
dismay I couldn’t understand a word she said. Beatrice and Violet
clearly understood. They spoke the language fluently and were most
amused at my confusion. Instead of helping me, they went off to
school and left me embarrassed and alone with Mlle. Duval and my
new schoolmaster, Mr. Arthur Leeds.

I believe my lessons with the rather
mild-mannered teacher would have gone well if Eugenia didn’t lurk
about in the room watching over me. Even Mr. Leeds appeared
uncomfortable with her presence, but as I came to learn, no one
ever stood up to Eugenia Norton Arrington. Not Mr. Leeds or Mlle.
Duval, not the slaves, not even Daddy. The only person to
occasionally challenge her authority was me.

“Go to your room and study the Bible,”
Eugenia demanded after Mr. Leeds departed.

“Why? It’s not Sunday.”

“Collette, take Miss Arrington to her room
and see to it that she studies. I have to see to a matter, and then
I am going into Savannah to do some shopping with the girls.”

Daddy had been gone for two weeks, and in
that time Eugenia had taken her daughters into Savannah every day
after school to shop for the most fashionable dresses, hats, shoes,
and gloves. They came home loaded with boxes piled so high,
Hamilton could barely see over them to deliver them up to their
rooms. Once he even dropped a hat box, and Eugenia was livid.

“You clumsy fool, pick that up!” she
bellowed. Her voice boomed throughout the giant mansion, causing
everyone around to stop what they were doing and stare.

I rushed over to Hamilton and handed him the
box, only to have it snatched away by Eugenia.

“Take your hands off my things!”

“I was only trying to help.”

Hamilton eased the box from Eugenia and gave
me a wide-eyed look of warning. If he could speak, I’m certain he
would have said,
Don’t get yourself into trouble; get along
before she lets you have it.

In the short time that Daddy was gone,
Eugenia managed to sell a dozen of our loyal slaves, including
Grover, Daddy’s slave driver. He was replaced with a tall, lean,
white overseer named Curtis P. Boyd. He had the meanest natural
scowl I had ever seen on a man, and his temperament matched his
hateful expression.

I heard that many of the slaves had been
whipped, and the thought terrified me. I often heard him out in the
fields belting out orders, commanding them to work harder and
faster.

All the slaves were in a dither. A few,
Hattie told me, had run away. While some protested and suffered
harsh consequences, others, like Mammy and her sisters and their
husbands, remained obedient and silent, though behind their eyes I
could see the burning resentment toward Eugenia. Our formerly
smooth-running, quiet plantation had become disordered and full of
turmoil.

Mlle. Duval escorted up to my room, talking
to me as if I could understand.

“I have a piano lesson in a half hour,” I
said as she sat me down at my writing desk and instructed me with a
sharp, pointed finger to begin reading. “Mr. Lang is on his way,” I
attempted to explain.

She adamantly shook her head no.

“Yes, yes he is. Daddy has arranged for my
lessons every Friday afternoon.”

“
Non
,” she said, with a thick
accent.

“What do you mean,
non
?”

Mlle. Duval grabbed my hands, turned them
face up, dropped the book down so hard it stung my palms, and
rambled on again about something I couldn’t understand, and then
she flew out of the room.

If it wasn’t the Holy Bible that was slammed
into my hands, I would have flung the book across the room,
straight at the closed door. I knew better, however, and
reluctantly I opened the Bible and began to read.

I occasionally looked up at the clock, and my
heart sank when four o’clock came and went without Mr. Lang
arriving for my piano lesson. It was what I looked forward to most.
I loved the piano and learned so quickly that Mr. Lang had to
continually bring new, more advanced lesson books. I loved to play
Beethoven and Chopin and would always remember how pleased Mr. Lang
was at how quickly I mastered the pieces.

“You are a gifted student. It is my pleasure
to be your teacher,” he said after every lesson.

By five in the afternoon it became dark
outside, and the clouds were threatening. The wind kicked up and
whipped through the leaves of the magnolia and live oak trees that
surrounded the lawns of Sutton Hall. Soon the thunder rolled over
the plantation and boomed overhead, shaking the mansion. With no
more natural light to read by, I closed the windows to my room, lit
the lamp, and sat on my bed waiting for Mlle. Duval to take me down
to supper.

In years past, supper had been served
whenever Daddy saw fit. Sometimes we ate early, and other times he
and I sat down late in the evening. If I was hungry before then, I
would help myself to whatever fruits were set out in the kitchen.
Since the new dictator arrived, supper was served promptly at five
o’clock, whether she was there or not.

Over the past two weeks, I had been dining
alone. When Eugenia and her girls returned from their shopping
engagements, they were served. I was long done and off playing with
Hattie and the other slave children until night was well
underway.

Under the blanket of bright stars in the
midnight-blue sky, through the oppressive heat of the night, the
children of the Sutton Hall plantation, with the exception of
Beatrice and Violet, played hide and seek in the adjacent forest.
We all rushed into the dark woods and then scattered, hiding behind
oak trees under the cover of darkness. Hattie and I always stayed
together. Though our game of hide and seek was meant for fun, I was
always afraid of the dark.