Slave Girl (3 page)

I aine never seen my daddy. Mama told me his name was Bob Coleman. He drowned in the river ’fore I was borned. We all live right here on the river, but cain’t none of us swim.
Mas’ won’t ’llow it – say we run away. Thinkin’ ’bout my daddy makes me think ’bout my mama. I miss Mama so bad it hurts ’cause I knew her, touched
her face, seen her smile. But in a strange way I miss my daddy, too, even though I aine never, ever saw him.

Midweek

Sunshine skies, blue skies so far this week. Spicy and me been piecin’ a quilt ’bout a hour or two every night – patches from old rags the Missus throwed away.
Aunt Tee is always busy scrubbin’ old pots with river sand, or shellin’ or snappin’ some kind of bean. If Uncle Heb aine down in the stables with Hince or drivin’ the family
to or from somewhere, he sits with us. We tell stories to pass the time.

My favourite story is how Uncle Heb and Aunt Tee got married.

Uncle Heb starts the tale, but Aunt Tee puts in along the way. When Aunt Tee got to Belmont, Uncle Heb was livin’ here over the kitchen where she was put to live. She caught his eye right
away, she bein’ so fine-lookin’ and all. “She put me in the mind of you, Spicy, but she was real skinny. Didn’t weigh more than one hundred pounds soakin’ wet. I says
to her for fun one day, ‘How can you be a good cook thin as you is?’”

Aunt Tee took one look at Heb, and says to Mas’ Henley, “I aine gon’ live in sin with no man, never-you-mind how old he is.” And she just wouldn’t cook for a day or
two.

Uncle Heb picks up the story again. Miz Lilly was put out. In her mind, slaves stayed where they was put, and that was that. Left up to her, Aunt Tee woulda got a good beatin’ for
havin’ the nerve to rebel. But Mas’ Henley is particular ’bout who fixes his food. Aunt Tee done been with him for years. When Miz Lilly tried to get one of the women from the
Quarters to cook, he wouldn’t ’llow it.

Finally, Mas’ come upon a perfect salvation that was good for everybody – ’specially Uncle Heb. One Sunday mornin’ durin’ the Christmas Big Times, the preacher man
come to Belmont. “Mas’ announced that Aunt Tee and me was to jump the broom.”

“Didn’t ask us. Just told us,” said Aunt Tee. “I wouldn’t have chose this old man, myself,” she always say, smilin’. “But over time, I done warmed
to the idea of havin’ him ’round though.”

“Come Christmas it will be our sixteenth year together,” Uncle Heb say. At that point, Aunt Tee always pats him on the back of his hand. That’s the way the story always ends,
everybody smilin’. Them smilin’ at each other. I love that story and the way they tell it. It makes me feel good all the way through and through.

Friday

The days is gettin’ longer, and that means we have to work longer, too. In the summer, Miz Lilly bath almost every day. This evenin’, Spicy and me carried water up
the steps in buckets and poured it in Miz Lilly’s bathin’ tub. Then when she got through, we had to drain the water into buckets and take them down the steps and dump it. Spicy spilled
water all up and down the steps comin’ and goin’. I got tickled at her, and she got tickled at herself. ’Fore you know it, we was laughin’ so hard. It felt fine to laugh.
And it felt even finer to see Spicy laughin’. I didn’t think she knew how.

Next night

It’s a clear night. Good moon. Good night to write.

The upper room was too stuffy to sleep, so I brought my mat outside. We sometimes do that. Spicy followed me. It was just the two of us girls. We just laid there, lookin’ up at the stars.
We had laughed together, so it was easier for us to talk together.

Come to find out, Spicy is motherless, too. And, just as I thought, she been mistreated somethin’ awful – beaten and yelled at by her ol’ mas’. Say he’s meaner than
Mas’ Henley. I cain’t demagine.

“If I could, I’d run away from this place so far they’d never fine me,” she blurted out, lookin’ like a cornered cat. “You won’t tell on me, will
you?”

“None of us is tattlers,” I told her.

“I aine either,” she said. I believe her.

Fourth Sunday in April

Sunrise will be here soon, but before startin’ the day, I want to write “freedom” again. It is such a strong word to so many people. F-R-E-E-D-O-M. Freedom. No
picture comes to my mind. It just aine got the magic. It shows me nothin’.

I’ve looked at the drawin’ of the one-eyed man over and over. His face don’t show me nothin’ neither. One thing for sure – if the one-eyed man is doin’
somethin’ that makes Mas’ Henley mad, then I figure he cain’t be all that bad.

Monday

Miz Lilly favours her daughter Clarissa and I see why. She’s all growed up and married with children of her own near ’bout the same age as William. Aunt Tee say Miz
Lilly thought she was through havin’ babies, when along come William. She almost up and died tryin’ to get him borned. If it hadn’t been for Aunt Tee they say Miz Lilly would have
done died. The fancy doctors from over in Richmond had done everythin’, but Aunt Tee fixed up a potion and the next mornin’, little William come into this world feet first.

“The tree with all its won-won-won” William was tryin’ to read a poem and got stuck on a easy word. His face turned all red. “What’s it say, Mama?”

Miz Lilly is short tempered and quick to hit in good times. Today wasn’t one of her better days. She whacked William’s knuckles with a stick. “Wonderful!” she shouted.
“Wonderful. That’s a plain English word used by millions of people. Wonderful. Look at it. Say it. Won-der-ful!”

William threw the book over his shoulder and stomped away. Miz Lilly followed close behind, threatenin’ to skin him alive. The lessons ended on that sour note.

I looked in the hedges and found the book William had tossed away. I’ll give it back to the Missus in a bit, but not before I’ve had a chance to finish readin’ the rest of that
poem.

Tuesday

Wonder what a new pair of shoes feels like? It’s warm enough to go barefooted now. My feet are glad to be out of William’s old throwed away shoes. The ground feels
good comin’ up through my toes all soft and cushy-like. Maybe that’s how new shoes feel.

Wednesday

Mr Ben Tomson’s Betty came to Belmont to finish fittin’ a dress for the Missus. Betty is a good seamtress. Her mas’er hires her out to make clothes for people
far away. Makes weddin’ dresses, fancy party dresses – everythin’. Good as she is, though, Betty cain’t hold a candle to my mama when she was the seamtress. Here at Belmont.
Everybody say so.

The ugliest dress in Virginia is bein’ made right here at Belmont for Miz Lilly. It is a shade of light green that looks washed out – no colour. I’d rather wear this little
plain cotton shirt I got on, with nothin’ underneath it, than all that grand mess she’s havin’ made.

After Betty finished in the Big House, she stopped by to speak to Aunt Tee in the kitchen. I listened, careful not to jump into grown folk’s talk.

Betty say Jasper and Naomi from over at the Teasdale Plantation runned away several weeks ago! The dogs was on they cents, when all of a sudden, they got all befuddled – went to
howlin’ and carryin’ on.

“Heared red pepper will do that,” say Aunt Tee.

Then Betty say somethin’ that make me listen real close. “Word tell, it was a white man that helped them get ’way on a railroad what runs under the ground – a one-eyed
white man, they says.”

That set me to thinkin’. If the one-eyed man helped Jasper and Naomi run ’way then he must be what they calls a abolistine.

Day later

I cain’t stop thinkin’ ’bout the abolistines. Seems some white folks don’t want slavery. They be the abolistines. I can hardly demagine that – but
it makes me happy to know that them kind of people is out there somewhere. The white folks that is mas’ers wants to keep slavery. I know ’bout them. I want to know more ’bout the
abolistines. Where do they live? How many is it? Do they all wear patches over their eyes? Are they all men? One thing for sure is that the abolistines is helpin’ slaves to get to freedom,
and knowin’ that is good for now.

Friday evenin’, April 29, 1859 (I think)

Spicy and I was dustin’ the large parlour. Spicy broke a vase and Miz Lilly gave her a bad whuppin’ – ten hard swats across the back with a switch – look
more like a tree limb to me.

Aunt Tee rubbed her wounds with a paste made from powdered oak leaves and rain water. Takes the sting out and keeps the sores from festerin’. It almost made me sick when I saw
Spicy’s back. It wasn’t the new cuts, but the old scars. She done been beat many, many times before – and hard, too. Now, I see why Spicy is so deep down hurt – been beat on
so much. I aine never come under the lash like that, and I don’t want to either. Miz Lilly beat Spicy bad just for breakin’ a vase. What would she do to me if she knew I could read and
write? The idea makes me tremble.

Sunday – after last meal

I almost died of fear when Spicy spilled gravy on a guest’s dress, broke a plate and chipped a cup while servin’ dinner. I thought Miz Lilly was goin’ to kill
her. Miz Lilly promised her guests: “She’s goin’ straight to the tobacco fields tomorrow.” I saw Spicy smile. She wanted to get sent to the fields – to get away from
bein’ ’round Mas’ Henley and Miz Lilly. That was a silly way to go ’bout it, and I told her so, later on. Anyway, Spicy’s plan didn’t work. ’Cause just to
spite his wife, Mas’ Henley took sides with Spicy. Say all Spicy needs is to be trained.

“Why do you care what happens to me?” Spicy asked me later.

“I saw your back and I wouldn’t want that to happen to you again – not to nobody! And I like you—” Spicy looked real surprised – like nobody had ever said
that to her before.

So for now, Spicy stays with us in the kitchen. And I’m glad. I think she might be, too.

First Sunday in May

Cooked and served three meals. Two house guests. Toted waters for baths. Helped with the clean up. I am so tired. No spirit to write. I’ve still got to wash out my dress,
so I’ll start the week clean.

Monday night

Aunt Tee sent me down to the Quarters to take a ointment to Aggie. Spicy went ’long. Wook tries to be nice. But for some reason, Missy done took a dislikin’ to
Spicy. That Missy is really changin’. I showed her Little Bit, and she laughed at me ’bout still playin’ with dolls. Later, Spicy told me not to worry ’bout what Missy say.
“People teases you sometimes ’cause they know it’ll make you mad.”

I asked her why she let Hince’s teasin’ make her so mad then?

“I hate my name,” she say. “Spicy! Whoever heared of such a silly name? My mama was all set to call me Rose. But our ol’ mistress say no, and named me Spicy. Mama had to
do it – couldn’t say nothin’ ’bout it.”

The more I learn ’bout Spicy the more I like her, but the more I hurt deep down for her, too.

Day later

Hince hardly ever comes to the kitchen since he and Spicy had that bad fallin’ out. So, I been goin’ to the stables whenever I get a chance. “Is Spicy mean to
you?” Hince asked me.

“Not at all.” I told him Spicy is just totin’ a lot of hurt from the way she been treated. He nodded a understandin’. I really do like her a lot. I think she might be my
friend. I wrote F-R-I-E-N-D-S. This time I seen Hince, Wook and now Spicy. Missy aine even now in the picture.

Wednesday

Hince and Mas’ Henley been goin’ to horse races most every week. They rode off last night, on the way to Southampton. Hince is a mighty fine jockey – wins a
heap of money for Mas’ Henley.

Wednesday evenin’

I can smell the word K-I-T-C-H-E-N and see it, too. It always smells good – herbs hangin’ from the eaves, dryin’. Hickory chips slow-burnin’ on the back
fire. A pot bubblin’ or boilin’. Aunt Tee loves her big, four-hip fireplace where four grown women can stand side by side and cook together. She’s truly the mistress of
Belmont’s kitchen.

Miz Lilly was in the kitchen today chatterin’ on ’bout what she wanted fixed for a special dinner. Aunt Tee just say, “Yes, Miz Lilly,” but in the end, Aunt Tee cooked
what she always fixes on Wednesday.

I had to tell Spicy how Aunt Tee and Mas’ Henley get along. Mas’ Henley be real particular ’bout what goes in his mouth. He don’t trust nobody but Aunt Tee to fix his
food. I once heared him say, he wouldn’t eat behind a cook he had to beat – scared of bein’ poisoned, I s’pose. Aunt Tee know just who she cooks for, and it aine Miz Lilly.
“Mas’ ’spects to have fried chicken and whipped potatoes on Wednesdays and that’s what I fixed.” And that’s what we served to the guests tonight.

Next day

Tellin’ Spicy the way things work here at Belmont is fun. Last night I ’splained to her why Mas’ Henley favours Aunt Tee, but all the time ’gainst Uncle
Heb. The best way for her to get an understandin’ was to start at the beginnin’ – back when Mas’ Henley first come to Belmont.

Uncle Heb was here at Belmont when Mas’ Henley married Miz Lilly who was a widow-woman with one child. Uncle Heb ran the place, keepin’ the orchards goin’ and all.

Word tell, Uncle Heb was once a tall, handsome man. Even now, all crippled from hard work and age, he still look good. First thing when he got here, Mas’ Henley wanted to sell Uncle Heb.
Miz Lilly wouldn’t have it. Uncle Heb had been born here at Belmont. Him and Miz Lilly’s daddy, David Monroe, was boys together. Miz Lilly likes to brag that presidents and governors
have ate here at Belmont.

Uncle Heb loves to brag, too. “Been all over this ’Merican land,” he say, callin’ up memories of when he travelled ’round with David Monroe. He say he been
everywhere. “Take the time me and the Mas’er went to Richmond Norfolk … Jamestown … even been to Mount Vernon. Been everywhere, all over this big ’Merican
country.” I would give anythin’ to see just one of them places.

Hince is the onlyest one of us who done travelled further than Uncle Heb. I remember once, William told me there were ghosts in the woods and a big snake lived there. It ate up all slaves who
dared to leave Belmont. It was Uncle Heb who taught me better. Everybody young and old loves the old man – everybody ’cept’n Mas’ Henley – and that’s
’cause he’s part of Miz Lilly’s family. “Mas’ Henley aine nothin’ but white trash who married into a fine Virginia family,” say Uncle Heb. He’s never
had no use for his new master.