Family Reunion (15 page)

"I do love you Joseph…I do."

He shook his head, turning away from her, searching for his cape coat.

"Joseph…" Hope called out to him.

"I need to go for a walk."

"Where?"

He donned his garments heading for the door. "Joseph, what about my job? You must return to take me."

Grinding his jaw in anger, he paused in the open door and then left, slamming it behind him. Hope walked to the settee in their suite, sat down and wiped her tears away. She hated being the way that she was, but there was no way of changing, not while she ached for the missing pieces of her life, her father, mother and brother.

By the evening of her first night, her husband had not returned. She met with Josey, explaining what she'd done, apologetic but determined to stick with her decision. Dressed in clothing appropriate for the task ahead, she left their suite willing to go alone to her new job without Joseph escorting her but with the driver they had hired. She had decided that he would drop her off a block from the building and she would walk from there. She sat in the coach thinking of her husband, where he might be; and if he was okay. Finally the coach reached the spot and she knocked on the roof.

"What time would you have me return again madam?"

"One a.m. no later." Hope informed him.

Alighting from the coach, with her head down, she made her way quickly toward the building. Stepping up to the door, she took out her key and unlocked it. Suddenly she found herself being shoved in from behind.

Strong arms encircled her pulling her back against a solid body. Just as a scream was about to escape her, a hand covered her mouth as the door was shut behind her.

"I love you," w
as whispered passionately in her ear.

Hope closed her eyes with relief as she was turned and pushed back against the door, her husband trapping her there. He stood above her in the dark building, staring down into her eyes.

"Forgive me? Please?" She asked softly.

"As if, I have a choice."

"I can't help myself." She explained.

"Shhh, I know. Neither can I." A kiss deep and stirring followed those true words. A few moments later when they were both hot and stirred, Joseph decided it would be wise to back away from his wife. Hope whimpered, holding onto his cape front to keep him from getting too far away. "Will you stay with me and help me?" She asked sweetly.

Her husband laughed as he made his exit, stopping long enough to remind her, "You wanted this job, you got it. I'll be back…at one." With her lip curled out in a pout she closed the door behind him. "Lock it." He mouthed and sauntered off smiling. With a sigh, Hope turned to her duties.

From that night forward, their routine was set. Every evening like clockwork Hope arrived on time, and most nights with her husband in tow, who in spite of himself, helped her through her cleaning to finish early, then spending whatever time was left playing through the building and making love. Into the second week, Joseph thought he should begin spending his days establishing himself in his profession, thus began the arduous task of locating law firms that were open to taking on a novice.

Few granted him the privilege of actually listening to him and the ones that did, listened only out of curiosity to see what he actually knew and understood. He contacted businessmen presenting himself as a competent Harvard graduate with honors. Having to Face reality sparked his battle with frustration as he found himself spending his dinner with established businessmen who preferred to discuss his qualifications over their dinner.

Most of the time he found himself speaking without an attentive audience as the interviewer was often distracted by some pretty girl who crossed his path, an approaching friend, or other customer whom he would engage in conversation, ignoring Joseph. Being the man that he was, he had little patience for such treatment. Standing, he would gather his things and leave without a word, most of the time he ended up at the building where Hope worked, venting his frustrations while she cleaned. She offered him the assurance that something would come through eventually.

* * *

To Lena's dismay, the positive change that she looked forward to was not happening. For some reason, Rory had withdrawn from her again. Ever since the night that Rollo attacked him, he seemed to draw away from her instead of closer. Things had come to a standstill between them and Lena was at odds to understand why.

Rory found everything happening around him confusing and scary. All the time he'd spent as a young boy wanting and craving his mother's love, while not getting it, had made him indifferent to her. Now here she was suddenly acting convincingly, as if she really cared, had always cared and going so far as to say that she indeed loved him. On more than one occasion, there were caresses, hugs and gentle words of trust, all these things were unsettling to him.

How was he to all of a sudden change over and begin to care back? If he was forced to confide his deepest feelings, he knew that he loved her. Problem was, those feelings were so deep and hidden they were impossible to bring up. Part of him wanted to accept her love even as another part of him was suspicious. If he accepted her love, would it not mean having to accept her and what she was as well? It had been easy to deny his Negro heritage when she had refused him her love and attention, making it easy for him to choose his white heritage without pricking his conscience. Her change now, kept his mind in torment on what to do or how to do it. He had been white for so long, the choice of what he would be just made itself. After he was four years old and his mother had gone away for a while, Sandra had become his mother and he lived in her grand home, in the style and custom of the white. His every need was seen to. When the time came to attend school, it had been to an all white school and so…he was White.

Yet, not fully white - no, not so simple.

How did one change their racial identity after being something other for so long? How did one suddenly come to grips with the knowledge that actually, they were black!? How did one deal with the most certain scorn that would surely follow if others, his white peers, were to find out about this change? To be black meant being inferior, lower than the white. To be black, meant you to be somewhere on the level of ... an animal. He hated the feeling of being inferior. Hated them for their superior attitude, he used his hidden resentment to bully his friends. He had to meet their dares. He had to be the domineering one, because he had to prove that he was just as good, just as strong, or stronger, if he chose to be intimidating enough.

He would lead, and they would follow or else they would feel his
displeasure. He would outdo them no matter what the role. He would be the tougher and they the weaker. They would respect him, one way or another. They would fear him and as long as they feared him, they would respect him. Everything they claimed and boasted, he had proven himself one better. Now, his ultimate fear was the humiliation it would bring if they knew that he was a Negro. All that he had built up would immediately collapse the second the truth was out. It was a hell he could not bear. Why now? Why when all in his life was going as it should? All of a sudden, out of the blue, she loved him. It couldn't be done. It was too late. The gap between them was not only too wide, but indeed too difficult to even consider trying to close, he just couldn't do it.

Facing this struggle alone, he missed Mr. Webster more than ever and wished he would return. He needed someone to talk to, someone who might understand. He figured it was time to tell someone the truth, he would tell Mr. Webster and he prayed he was the kind of man he thought him to be. After being in his employ a few weeks he had gained the confidence needed and knew with him, there would be no humiliation. No scorn and no reason to feel shame. Waiting for his return, he stayed busy.

Between seeing to Mailon
, visiting with her father and helping with the arriving ships that came from abroad, he prayed that the time would fly until Mr. Webster returned. He had promised to visit the ship and to straighten up his cabin. Rory boarded the Princess and spoke with Maria and the kids. He laughed and played with them until the noise made Maria shush them and Rory departed to get about his duties.

Entering his boss's private quarters Rory was determined to make everything perfect for his return. He would make him proud and glad that he had hired him. While his cabin was not dirty, it was a bit messy. His desk was covered with papers of various sorts, charts and books etc.

Several pieces of his clothing lay in piles here and there about the room as well. Rory set about making order of it. Clothing that needed cleaning was set aside so he could take them to be laundered. He sought out Maria to ask her how he should go about cleaning the room, and she brought him all that he would need. He liked her; she was quiet and thoughtful, always offering him a welcoming smile.

With the room finally neat and clean, he turned his attention to the desk. Carefully removing the papers, he polished it down, and then set about sorting his work in piles. Next he removed each drawer and arranged the papers neatly within. Coming to the last drawer at the bottom, Rory pulled it out and turned it upside down as he had the others.

With its contents of forms a false bottom fell from the
drawer and laying on top, was a large ledger book. Rory held the drawer up looking down at the false bottom and the once hidden ledger. His brow crinkled in wonder that he'd obviously stumbled across a book of importance that Manny had chosen to hide. Rory lowered the drawer, sat behind the desk and stared at it a moment fighting an insatiable curiosity as to what secrets it held. He closed his eyes a moment, he knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself. He looked up toward the door praying not to be caught going through his employer’s personal ledger.

Swallowing, he opened it wide, reading the neat script that read, Properties of Webster Fields, dating back to 1777. Vicksburg, Mississippi, Okala rd. Owner, Morris Roland Webster, whose wife was Royal Sun Webster, their births, their deaths etc.

Listed as well was one child, a son, born Maynard Ramsey Webster, the fall of 1778. There was a short entry on the health of him, the weather when he was born, and comments on the celebration of independence, concluding with a date in the year of 1807 recording the marriage between one Maynard Ramsey Webster to one Katherine Janette Sanders.

Divorced – 1815.

Engrossed in these discoveries he continued on, his curiosity at a level where he could not stop. The next pages continued with entries about the property, land, livestock and slaves.

He read on, slowly turning page after page where dates were entered as more property was obtained; as the mansion was altered and added to; where livestock was purchased; where slaves were obtained and given over to assigned duties.

The names seemed to go on and on. Rory looked up with his heart slamming in his chest and his ears ringing. He was trying to absorb all that he found as he looked through the book learning just how many slaves were owned. Everything was documented in the book, the number of cabins, barns, heads of cattle, and bulls…everything.

Somewhere in Mississippi, near the town of Vicksburg, was Webster Fields. There, hundreds of slaves lived; all owned by Maynard Ramsey Webster, his boss. Rory felt his heart hurt without mercy. His friend, Mr. Webster owned slaves,
slaves
! Needing a moment to recover from the discovery his mind raced.
'How could you own slaves? I thought you were different?'

He sat a spell unable to look on, but after a few moments passed with him gazing off with worried thoughts racing in his mind, he looked down, reopening the ledger where his fingers lay to continue on where he’d left off. He turned the page and read the entry which was dated 1799, the line beside the date was scratched out to start over replaced by the name…Princess Ceś alena Huebana.

Rory looked up again, shocked at the name.
'It's the same name as the ship! What is it about that name?'
His mind searched more confused than ever. Not understanding how it seemed to be so familiar to him. He looked back down to read more about this person, to see that she was a slave. A young female –(fancy)- was written beside the name. In disbelief he stared at the words that followed. Beneath it was a scrolled swirling line that seemed to embrace the name. What also stunned him was that the name sat at the top of a page with only four other entries below the flowing scroll.

"No! It cannot be!" He exclaimed
with his mind spinning in further disbelief. The next four entries were as follows.

March 8th, 1800 – living single male birth, Michael Ramsey Webster.

May 1st, 1802 – deceased single male birth, Jeremiah Aaron Webster.

June 22nd, 1803 – deceased single male birth, Gabriel James Webster.

August 13, 1810 – living single female birth, Golden Hope Webster.

Again, there was a fancy scroll after the four entries and then a short note that read, "Our children." signed, Maynard Ramsey Webster. Rory's head dropped back as he closed the book while his temples throbbed and his eyes filled with tears.

Chapter Four