Princess Ces'alena (38 page)

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Authors: Mercedes Keyes

BOOK: Princess Ces'alena
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“You never liked me, did you Kayleen?”
“Had no reason to, got even less reason now!” She retorted bitterly. “What you want?”
“I’ve come to see that child! I know it’s born…I heard it crying last night. So unblock this doorway and let me through.”

“So sellin’ my Mikey wasn’t enough for you. Ya’ come to see and make plans for this one too? Well, don’t bother! You got nothin’ to worry about where this one concerned. Gone now, be about your way!”


What do you mean, nothing to worry about concerning this one!? It is Manny’s isn’t it!?” Katherine felt her anger rising at her bold disrespect, and what exactly did she mean about the babe? “Unblock this doorway! I have come to see that child! Either let me through or I shall get Kevin to help me in!”

Kayleen stood a moment, feeling she had said enough of what needed to be said to plant the seed and idea. Grudgingly, she backed away and stepped to the side allowing her entrance. Katherine picked up her skirt and stepped into the clean, neat and expensively furnished cabin. She was shocked, and could not believe her eyes, it had been her first time even bothering to come to the cabins. She had no idea this slave had been set up in such grandeur. Heat once again washed over her; tightening her lips; clamping her jaw, she stepped in further, viewing the layout that looked nothing like the outside of the cabin. All that she saw was of the highest quality in furnishings. From the curtains on the windows, to the rugs on the floor; table clothes, bed linens, a white vanity and wardrobe with gold trim and floral inlay. Tall brass framed mirrors on the wall, and one standing for full length view across the room.

The vanity’s top was white and tan marble with a satin covered brass seat. Displayed on top were many expensive perfumes, the bottles of fancy design, flanked by fragrant soaps and powders; before them, an expensive vanity comb and brush set. Towards the end of the cabin was an extension of two more rooms. Her stunned anger would not let her look further beyond Lena’s bed. Where Lena lay amidst fluffly pillows, shams and a matching spread. The bed itself was brass, with tables each side of it, adorned with expensive lamps. On one side of the room, to the left of the bed, was a chaise lounge, and a rocking chair sat next to the bed.

The right side of the bed, against the partition, was a high back, leather winged chair. Katherine turned red…she knew that Manny sat in that chair. Out of all the feminine finery, and furniture…it dominated the room with it’s masculine lines and color. He had set her up with the splendor of the aristocracy. Not a corner in the cabin was neglected. She swallowed unable to believe her eyes.

It was like stepping from outside into a whole new world and place. She stood feeling hurt and betrayed, fighting back tears that threatened to spring to her eyes. Standing by the door, Kayleen smiled to witness her reaction.

Katherine straightened her shoulders, swallowed the lump in her throat and focused in on the sleeping form of Lena as she slowly walked past her bed. She stopped a moment staring at her badly bruised face, where the swelling had almost gone down, to be replaced by vivid deep blues, purple and green. Her eyes dark blue circles; her lips swollen and cut. She looked away from her back to Kayleen.

“Where is the child?”
“Sleeping!”
“Sleeping — where?”
“In the crib, through that door.”

Katherine turned and slowly sauntered through it. Katherine seemed to take forever. Kayleen sighed in relief when the shocked, loud gasp came. A moment later, Katherine emerged with her eyes widened in astonishment. She walked back through the cabin, pulling her skirts close in to her, so as not to touch anything. A bright, growing, smile on her face as she strolled past Kayleen quite satisfied. Outside, she popped her parasol open and began to laugh; an uncontrollable laugh that came from deep within.

Kayleen closed the door cutting off the sound; she turned and went to sit beside Lena on the bed. “See honey, I tol’ you…things gone work out. You was frightened for nothing baby. See, just listen to me; stick to our plan.” Kayleen murmured softly. “Do as you just did, and everything will work out for the bes’. But you gotta carry it through, ‘specially with him baby…you got to.” She spoke to a wide awake Lena, as she stroked the hair gently from her brow. Tears gathered once again in eyes where the whites showed deep crimson from bruising; then rolled out the side into her hair line. “Oh baby, please don’t cry no more. I can’t stand to see you cryin’ this way, it breaks my heart.”

“Kayleen…I want my bab-baby back. I want my - I want my son…Oh God… Oh God…my son…my son Kayleen.”
“Shhhh, hush now…I know. I know…-(she began dabbing at her tears with a cloth)- don’t forget…you got Hope, and you-…”
“Please! Get my Hope…go get my Hope!!”

“Shhh, soon as they gone…soon as they gone. I’ll bring her for you, but not for long. Just so you can feed her, and hold her a while, then we got to take her back. Till he come…and then…go.”

Lena turned her head away ignoring the pain to her sore neck, to her traumatized body…for it could never compare to the pain in her heart; from losing her son, and next…his father.

 

It was close to the noon hour as Manny rode down Okala for home; he’d driven his horse at a rapid trot once he came within a mile of the plantation. That was where he began looking for Mike, hoping that his son had taken a chance to come looking for him on his return. He grinned thinking about the look on his face when he saw the rifle he’d had made for him. Shaking his head, he knew Lena would have a fit about it, but the boy needed to learn now how to handle things of that nature for hunting, and in some cases, to protect himself and his mother, should the need ever arise.

He was however disappointed as he drew closer to the plantation noticing that he hadn’t come to meet him. They were probably all at the front pond playing to fend off the heat. Then it occurred to him, Lena was due.

“That’s it! She’s had the baby! He’s mother sitting no doubt.” He spoke out loud, chuckling to himself. “Hope.” He said the name out loud, trying it out on his ears, and nodded. “I like it, well my son, I’m sure if she’s here…you’re already calling her Hope.” Finally Manny came to the drive leading into Webster Fields, and right away, he could feel that something was wrong. It was too quiet, much too quiet…a calm where nothing and no one stirred. Usually there was plenty of activity going on, and there was always one of the kids up by the road, who would have spotted him by now, to take off yelling of his return.


Where ar
e all the children?’
He thought puzzled.

They were always playing around the yard, kicking up so much racket Morris would come out and chase them to the back. The women, where were they? Their loud talking and jesting should be ringing out as they carried on about their business. He came to the mansion, and the doors were closed, not a soul out on the front lawn. He rode on down the main lane that separated the cabins from the lawn and mansion. Nothing - no one. He stopped and stared at Lena’s cabin…and then at all the others. No one! Not one person to be seen. “What the hell is going on here!” He mumbled, riding a bit faster towards the horse stall and carriage barn. The further he rode, the more his heart and mind went crazy. He felt as if he was in a ghost town. It was too hot to be indoors, where were they, where was Caesar & Ben? They practically lived out on the front porch. Finally he heard the cry of a young child being corrected, so he knew they were still there. But something was wrong… seriously wrong.

The clop of his horse’s hooves sounded increasingly loud with the silence that prevailed.

They had to know he was back, they had to…how could they mistake him riding through? Morris hardly ever rode a horse… “What in God’s name has happened?” He grumbled. He came to the barn, dismounted and pulled the big doors open to enter, leading his stallion in behind him, he stopped midway.

He stood there a moment letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer light, because what he saw before him, could not be…not in his barn. Dangling right from the top center beam, were ropes. Two ropes with tied loops at the bottom. On the ground directly below them were shackles and chains, each coming from opposite stalls toward the center. Under further inspection, and to his horror, blood. Blood splattered on the stalls, much of it surrounding the area of the floor where the shackles lay. Traces of it everywhere, testifying to a great deal being spilled.

Manny stood and stared in disbelief. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing in his barn. From the shock, came anger that rapidly built to him shouting furious, “Who in the
hell
whipped one of my slaves in my absence?!” He turned to find no one around to answer the question. “There had better be one helluva reason for this, or the sonofabitch will feel his own flesh fry!” He muttered angrily as he hurried about unsaddling his horse, walking him to its stall, continuing to grumble angrily all the while, unaware of the person who quietly entered as he left the stall.

Amos stood nervous and perspiring until Manny noticed him. When he did, he roared, “What in hell happened while I was away!? Who was whipped and why?! Where is Jordan!? Henry? Leon? Where is everyone?! What in blazing hell has happened?!!”

Amos gulped fearfully, not so much for himself, but for Manny. It was a combination of fear and sorrow…piled high with regret for his master. If he was this mad already from someone being whipped, wait until he found out why.

“Well!?!”
“Umm, masta, we-…” He was cut off.
“Don’t call me that! You know not to call me that!” Manny interrupted angrily.
“I know, I’m sorry…um…Manny…we heard you coming and-…”

“Why didn’t anyone meet me? What’s going on!?” He demanded walking out of the stall past Amos to pick up a bucket of oats to hang before his horse. “I’m tryin’ ta tell you, but you gots to be still and listen. Just - just hold tight now.”

“I’m sorry…I can’t help it. I won’t stand for this! Someone is going to pay, and pay dearly!”

“Well, please…just listen…cause what I got to tell, ain’t easy. An’ya makin’ it harda.” Amos explained. Manny took a deep breath. “I apologize, please explain.”

“Umm, I’on know where to start.”
Manny threw his hands up and spun in frustration, coming full circle he ran his hands over his head. “Godalmighty – just start!”
“Ms Katherine…she come out’a her depression yesterday, sincin’ then, all hell broke loose.”
“What do you mean?!” Manny snapped.
“She - she have, Leon, Jordan and Henry … whipped!”


She what!?!”
He roared. “Why?!”

“Cause she -… they - we…try to stop ha’ Manny… ummm-…” He began fretting, wringing his hands nervously, tears came to his eyes, one rolling as he forced up to his mouth what he must spit out.

Manny stared at him, at his manner, “Stop her from - what?!”

With tears rolling, Amos rocked back shaking his head, hating to be the one that must tell him. His actions, his behavior set up the first flares of fright in Manny. “Amos, you scaring me, stop her – from what?”

“She…we tried to stop her from – she …sell your boy…she done sol’ Mikey. He gone!”

With eyebrows drawn above disbelieving eyes, Manny stumbled back as if he’d been pushed. He couldn’t have heard right, there was no way…no way. Yet the color drained completely from his face. He felt heat burn up his back to the base of his skull, he shook his head, trying to kill the feeling, and make sense out of what he was hearing.

“Wait…wait – stop – nooo, no no no no no…” The denial spilled rapidly from his lips, shaking his head, he held up a hand, “…sl - slow down hang on a minute now …slow down. What are you saying? What do you mean - sold my boy? What does that mean? What-…”

In a rush of words wanting to get it all out, Amos blurted. “Mikey gone! Manny she sold him to a slave trader yesterday! His name Chester Sands, we tried Manny…God know we try to stop her. Yo’ poor Lena fought him with all she had, he damn near lik’ta kill ha, but that Mr. Dobbs, him and James come and let that man take your boy away! Na’ they all gone.”

Manny’s body trembled with suppressed fright – terror. Absolute horror shot through him; making him turn left then right for what to do. He bent a moment from his stomach cramping up. “Wait…wait…” He was trying to keep a steady head.
‘Last night, that man…it was him. Chester Sands…’
“I can catch him! I can catch him! Saddle me a fresh horse Amos… fast!!”

He couldn’t get his thinking clear, he whimpered like a frightened child, turning one way, then the other, “Lord God… please….please…please help me now…please help me.” He fought feelings of frightened helplessness, then stopped looking to Amos as he asked. “Amos…Lena, how is she?”

“Kayleen with her all night…he beat her bad Manny. But she gone live.”

“Oh Jesus please…” Manny turned feeling everything crashing in on him at once. He didn’t know which move to make first, which way to turn. He wanted to go ask Jordan for help, then it occurred to him that he couldn’t, making him ask, “Jordan, Leon and Henry?”

“They still alive, that Leon —(Amos shook his head)- that whippin’ like to kill’em.”

Manny felt a rumbling sensation inside of him.
‘Keep your head - keep your head - keep your head - keep your head.’
He said over and over; battling with all the un-imaginable fears and emotions he felt boiling within him, on the verge of eruption. Amos was rushing to get his horse ready when he sprinted from the barn. Manny ran faster than ever in his life, sprinting towards the house. Faces flashing, and voices exploding in his head, Chester Sands face, and Charles voice over and over. The feeling he had last night, multiplied a hundred fold now. He slammed into the back door of the mansion, through the mansion, his mind voicing over and over,
‘No wonder…no wonder I felt something strange about Chester Sands. The man’s face scarred and beaten! I ignored it all because things happen!’
But what he hadn’t known, was what had happened to him, happened because he’d been to Webster Field’s and had taken his son. No wonder the hasty night departure, no wonder…no wonder, and he bellowed from the dinning room, not realizing how loud.

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