The Slave Master's Son (35 page)

“Hello, ma’am. My name’s John Stewart, Jr. I was told that this was the address at which I could find a Mrs. Sarah Hawthorne,” John said matter-of-factly as he pushed the paper back into his pocket.

“May I ask what this visit concerns?” asked the woman, in a polite but assertive manner.

“I’m her brother,” John stated. The woman looked at John closely. A silent exchange began between the two of them. She studied his eyes, his nose, his lips, and his posture. She looked over his clothing.

“Please come inside,” she finally said, leading him into a small sitting area with azure, white, and gray paisley-print furniture. John felt his body temperature slightly rise as he waited for Sarah to enter the room. He heard chatter but couldn’t distinguish what was being said. Suddenly, a tall, dark complected, distinguished man entered the foyer area.

“Hello, Mr. Stewart,” he extended his hand to John, receiving a firm handshake. His booming voice matched the look of concern on his taut, cocoa face. Chiseled jaw line, thin, narrow nose and full, fleshy lips encompassed his discerning features. His hair had a slight wave with silver teasing his temples.

“My name’s Graham Hawthorne. I’m Sarah’s husband. Normally, I wouldn’t be at home at this hour, however, I had a pending matter that required my attention.” He sat down leisurely across from John, crossing his long legs at the ankle. “So, let’s cut straight to the chase.”

“Yes, I suppose I should.” John removed his hat and laid it next to his side. “I don’t even know if Sarah remembers me or not. I vaguely recall her. I don’t even know if she realizes she had another brother. I know some of this may come as a shock, but…”

“It isn’t,” a delicate voice answered. Sarah entered the room, wearing a long, flowing, simple, white gown. Her swan-like neck was adorned with a pearl necklace that contrasted deeply with her dark-brown eyes against her caramel skin. Long, dark-brown tresses were delicately up swung to the crown of her head, creating a look of royalty that she already possessed, even if she were bald. John looked at her and immediately saw a darker version of himself. Their father’s facial structure had glued itself firmly to her, screaming out the paternity to anyone in earshot and with eyes to see. Sarah sat down next to her husband. She looked at John awhile before speaking again.

“And I see that you look like Master Stewart,” she said dryly. “Is that bastard still alive?” she asked calmly as she poured a glass of water, and then offered it to John.

“Ironically, that’s what I’m here about. He’s indeed alive, but barely,” explained John. Sarah laughed.

“Did he bequeath something to me out of guilt? Yet another monetary allowance, perhaps?” she said harshly.

“Not quite.” John rubbed his hands together nervously. “He…he wishes to see you, actually.” Sarah looked at John sternly. Her heart began to pound louder and harder inside of her body. For an inkling, just a moment in the shattered realms of time, she felt “Daddy wants me.” This was quickly replaced with rage.

“For what – to absolve himself of final guilt before he meets the Lord? I’d never give him the satisfaction. My mother died trying to take care of my sister and me while he sat back and did nothing but send monies on holidays. He deserves to swallow the stench of his actions over and over again. If I were at his deathbed I’d curse and spit on him so much he’d think he was outside in a thunderstorm!” Sarah hollered. Her husband took hold of her hand.

“Sarah! Please.” he calmed. “I know that this is upsetting, but your absentee father has haunted you your entire life. It may be a way for you to finally move on.” Sarah’s eyes grew wide with anger as her husband exposed her true emotions for the open air to embrace and remember. She turned from Graham abruptly.

“So John, what are your intentions regarding this matter?” she asked, tempering her tone.

“Master Stewart’s in New York, which is where I live. He’s staying with my wife, our two children, and me, and is receiving diligent medical care. I came here to help in his last request – to have all of his children around him so that he may speak to us before passing away.

“Sarah, I can never pretend to understand the pain you endured from your childhood and having him not participatory. However, please be assured that he and I had a rather lively discussion regarding this and I wasn’t respectful to him, in the least. He and I’ve had a tumultuous relationship, Sarah. I don’t wish to bore you with the details nor monopolize your time with my own sordid stories, but his being in your life directly may not have been the bed of roses you imagined it could be,” John explained, peeking Sarah’s interest.

John continued, “He’s a very intolerant, demanding man who let many of his own dreams go in an effort to keep up appearances. Not that it will make anything better, but I’d also like to state to you that though he wasn’t honorable in the least regarding your mother, I do believe that he honestly thought the money he was sending was taking care of any necessary matters. I’m sorry for the loss of your mother, as well.” John stood up and prepared to leave. He looked at the address on the paper.

“Wait a moment,” Sarah said as she rose to her feet. “I want more information.” She hung her head briefly. “What do you have there?” she asked, watching John read the paper.

“It’s the address of your sister, Mary.” He handed the piece of paper to Sarah.

“This is incorrect. Mary lives here now. Her husband passed away two years ago,” Sarah said solemnly as she handed the paper back to John.

“Do you know where Jonah is? I understand you three were together at some point in time?” John questioned. Sarah looked away abruptly. Graham cleared his throat.

“Jonah’s probably not a good candidate to speak with regarding a voyage right now. Though they did have different mothers, they did stay together and moved here from New York together. He was in the war and now walks unsteadily, however, his lack of mobility, depending on his pain threshold that day, sometimes leaves him completely unable to move. I highly doubt he could make the trip, even if he agreed to it,” Graham explained.

“I see,” John said as he tucked the paper back in his pocket.

“Mary is upstairs. I’ll retrieve her,” Sarah said as she dismissed herself.

“John,” Graham spoke slowly as he lit a pipe. The thick orbs of smoke swam through the air like cotton filled bubbles. “Though Sarah and I both appreciate what you’re attempting to do, a part of me is concerned that this may bring her more detriment. You haven’t been privy to her life, but I assure you, it’s one of great loss and grief. She often times had to survive on her own accord with little to no assistance. Sarah is the strongest out of the three from an appearance standpoint, however, she’s also the most sensitive. She keeps this under wraps from most of the outside world. She’s the guardian, the protector of the threesome, so please understand that more than likely, Mary will follow Sarah’s decision,” Graham warned nonchalantly.

John nodded in understanding as he heard two sets of footsteps approaching. Mary stood slightly behind Sarah. She was about the same height, but significantly lighter and brandished the same piercing blue eyes as John. Her features were delicate and her hair jet-black in loose spirals along her face. She looked at John curiously, not saying anything.

“Hello, Mary. My name’s John. I’m your brother.” John extended his hand. Mary slowly approached him. He took her hand and kissed it. Mary’s eyes began to fill with tears.

“You look just like him,” she said in a low voice. “It’s like seein’ a ghost, even though he ain’t quite dead yet,” she added. John nodded uncomfortably as he sat back down.

“So, John, I was explaining to Mary the nature of your visit. How long have you known about us?” Sarah asked as she took her seat next to Graham once more while Mary sat next to John, avoiding eye contact.

“I always believed you may exist, but Master Stewart refused to acknowledge my accusations. Only until a few days ago was it revealed and confirmed. I had no idea what your names were, where you lived, if you were alive or deceased – nothing. Apparently right before he took ill, he decided to find out information about your whereabouts and had collected quite a few leads. After he became sick, he alerted me of the situation. Now it appears time is of the essence.” John shook his head.

“Please make no mistake, John, if we do this, it’s not for Master Stewart. It’s for us,” Sarah said firmly. “Though you tell me tales of his tyranny, you still had the better of the two lives. You’re not a mulatto shipped off and ignored, forced to live in poverty. Some days I had wished I had never been born,” Sarah added sternly.

“I’m not terribly keen on seeing him,” Mary interrupted. “Jonah may feel differently. I’m not sure,” Mary said softly.

“May I ask where Jonah is?” John inquired. Sarah looked across the room then quickly back at John.

“Jonah stays here and there. He has a small house not too far from here, though.” Sarah looked at Mary then back at John. “Did you want to arrange a meeting with him as well?”

“Yes, I’d like to ask him, man-to-man, brother-to-brother, the same thing I’m asking you and Mary,” John answered.

“Very well. I’ll have him notified of the situation. In the meantime, do you have somewhere to reside for the evening? It’s starting to get late,” Sarah questioned.

“No, I was planning to find a room somewhere,” John answered.

“No need – you may stay here in our guest quarters,” Sarah said dryly.

“Thank you. I’m grateful. That’s very generous of you.”

“There’s no need for me to take my anger out on you, though sometimes it may seem irresistible. Please follow Laura,” Sarah instructed, waving her hand carefree. The short woman that greeted him at the front door entered the room and smiled pleasantly. John grabbed ahold of his bag and followed her up the steps. She opened the door to a bright room.

“Mr. Stewart, please make yourself at home. Dinner will be served in one hour.” She closed the door politely behind herself and hurried back down the steps, leaving John to his vast assortment of chopped up and confusing thoughts.

“My Lord,” he muttered as he placed his luggage on the bed. “Master Stewart, thank you for this opportunity to be in the lion’s den due to your misdeeds. I’ll probably be served for dinner tonight, along with a side of corn,” he complained as he organized his papers and took out a fresh pair of trousers and shirt.

As he leisurely read his notes, John began to smell the strong aromas of food cooking. Rich gravies, stewed potatoes, and a baked chicken were surely on the menu if his nostrils didn’t deceive him. He smiled as his stomach rumbled, looking forward to the nourishment even though he was in the midst of sorrow and possible combat.

John removed his clothing and stood at the water basin in his room. He meticulously cleaned his face, rubbing the slight stubble on his profile that was growing back. He washed his neck and shoulders, allowing the lukewarm water to run rivets down his torso and chest, dancing with the downy hairs upon it. He stood tall as he continued to cleanse himself, ringing the thick wash cloth repeatedly before casting it to the side of a chair to dry. John ran his fingers through his dark hair and looked at himself before turning and dressing quickly. As he slid on his shoes, he heard a bell ringing. He leisurely placed his paperwork neatly back into his bag and headed down the steps, observing the intricate horse riding paintings on the wall on his way down to the main dining room.

“John, please have a seat here,” Sarah insisted. It was a chair straight across from her. Mary raced out of the kitchen with a large pitcher of iced tea. She sat down to John’s right as Graham made his way into the room. He nodded appreciatively at John, and then took his seat. Just as John suspected, the buffet before him consisted of a beautifully broiled chicken, golden in color and oozing with juiciness and flavor. A large clear bowl of mashed potatoes lay nearby, along with a few boiled ones, sprinkled with salt and pepper. A gravy dish was filled to the brim and a platter of hand picked green beans was shiny with pats of semi- melted butter.

“This looks and smells delicious,” John remarked as he poured himself a glass of iced tea.

“Thank you. Mary and I helped Laura prepare it. We enjoy cooking,” Sarah responded solemnly as she passed a large pan of rolls to him.

“So John, without any further ado, let me tell you a bit about my life. I’m sure Mary will join in.” Sarah smiled faintly. “This house that we’re in belonged to my mother’s employer. She was an elderly, white woman with an obscene amount of money. She was a twice widow. Despite her riches, she was quite good to my mother and fond of her. Upon her death, the widow Gretchen had no children. She left all of her possessions to my mother who in turn left them to Mary and me for she soon fell ill and couldn’t enjoy the benefits of all of her years of working and scrubbing and struggling. We’d help Mama clean and iron as well as cook. Though the house is in need of some repair that we currently can’t afford, I’m blessed to have it. Mary got married and left but…”

“I returned after my husband was murdered,” Mary spoke up as she buttered her roll.

“I…I’m very sorry to hear that,” John responded humbly. Mary nodded.

“Graham’s family is some of the first Black bankers here. Graham never lived in poverty and had a knack for making money. I had to succumb and go to the bank realizing that I needed assistance with my inherited assets. That’s how he and I met,” Sarah smiled sweetly.