Queen (100 page)

    allowance if he would never come within a hundred miles of Baton Rouge

    again. It broke his mother's heart.

    Digby volunteered for the army, but although they would not have him at

    first, as a cripple, they took him later as a quartermaster, and his was

    a pleasant war, far removed from the front lines. After the surrender,

    he wandered the South looking for somewhere to live, and had settled in

    Decatur, a small town far enough away to make rumors of his scandalous

    past unlikely.

    His father's regular remittances averted a need to work, and he spent his

    days in idleness and his nights at the inn. So it was that he saw a

    beautiful young mulatta working in a flower shop, and wanted her at that

    moment, and set his heart upon having her. Queen's denial of her blood

    and her fabrications about her past amused him, and he played along with

    them. The more complex the chase, the more intense would be his eventual

    pleasure, and the more satisfying her pain.

    Alone at night, he would laugh at Queen's innocent faith in the success

    of her deception. Did she really think he didn't know? He could smell a

    nigra bitch a mile away.

On the Fourth of July, he dressed in formal evening wear, hired a hansom

cab, and called for Queen at her lodgings. She

608 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

was wearing an elegant pink dress that left her lovely shoulders bare, and

Digby could hardly restrain himself. He kissed her hand and her arm, and

then her creamy shoulders, and the desire to sink his teeth into that

exquisite flesh, to hear her gasp in pain, and to see a drop of her nigra

blood spring forth was almost irresistible to him. Soon, he told himself. It

must be soon, for the old, familiar urges were upon him.

    Queen and Alice had taken considerable care with her toilette. Alice had

    made the gown herself, and gave Queen a string of white beads that looked

    like pearls as her only jewelry. Before Queen left, Alice repeated her

    warning, and Queen smiled, and assured her that everything was going to be

    all right.

    Digby's ardent greeting, romantic yet with a hint of something dark and

    unsettling, awoke curious feelings in Queen. When she felt his teeth bite

    hard into her shoulder, it disturbed her, and she gasped in pain. Digby

    looked at her, and his smile was not reassuring. As she rode to the theater

    beside her handsome beau, Alice's warnings rang in her ears, and she began

    to worry, for the look in Digby's eyes was one she had seen before, in

    other men, at other, frightening times.

    Independence Day was an ambivalent festival in the defeated South, but

    occasions for a celebration of any kind were rare, and society made the

    most of them. Women brought their loveliest gowns, hardly worn since before

    the war, and the evening clothes of many of the men gave off a vague smell

    of camphor, used in storage to repel moths. The street was brightly

    lighted, and the theater patriotically decorated in red, white, and blue

    bunting, although there was little evidence of the Union flag. A crowd had

    gathered outside to enjoy the spectacle of the arrivals, and cheered their

    favorite local politicians and city fathers, especially those who had been

    vociferous against the Yankees. Poor women sighed with envy at the silks

    and satins, the feathers and fans, and the sight of a rare piece of jewelry

    made them gasp in appreciation. There were beggars and buskers, and food

    vendors and balloon sellers, and musicians, and a few disabled veterans,

    staring with envying eyes.

    Digby's carriage pulled up, and a footman helped Queen alight. Her simple

    beauty brought audible response from the

    QUEEN 609

excited crowd. A shabbily dressed black man ran to the horse and grabbed the

bridle.

    "Look after the horses, suh?" he begged, for sometimes he earned a few

    cents that way, but the coachman told him to get out of the way, and the

    beggar turned to Digby.

    11 Please, suh, just a few pennies," he pleaded. The coachman, who was also

    black, flicked his whip at the beggar.

"You heard the Massa," he shouted. "Out of the way."

    The beggar, who had been lashed too often when he was a slave, angrily

    grabbed the whip, and pulled the coachman from his box.

"Yo' don't whip me," he cried. "I ain't a slave no mo'."

    A scuffle developed and a crowd gathered round, cheering or hissing or just

    enjoying the sport. Lashing out at anyone, the beggar knocked a bystander

    against the horrified Queen.

    Queen screamed, and Digby struck the beggar hard, viciously hard, with his

    cane. The beggar roared in anger and launched himself at Digby, who raised

    his cane again, quite ready to defend himself. His eyes were sparkling at

    the prospect of the violence, while a little part of his mind wondered what

    Queen was feeling.

    Others, street-rough whites, rushed to Digby's aid and quickly subdued the

    furious beggar.

    "He cain't do that," the beggar yelled. "He cain't hit a rugger no mo'!"

    A burly white man disagreed with him. "We can do what we damn well like,

    coon," he said, slamming his fist into the beggar's face, knocking him

    senseless. Digby was enjoying himself, the evening was off to a splendid

    start, but considerations of etiquette were demanded now. He put his arm

    around Queen and shepherded her toward the theater. There were cheers of

    approval from some of the white bystanders, and the mayor, who had seen it

    all, greeted them in the foyer.

    "Well done, old man," he congratulated Digby, shaking his hand. "I don't

    know what the world's coming to."

    Digby smiled. "Damn monkeys should be shot," he said. And looked at Queen.

    She was miserable. The evening had been so full of promise, but the ugly

    fight, and the statements of hatred toward blacks, which she had heard

    often but had not expected on

610 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

this night of nights, depressed her. She worried that perhaps Alice was

right, and she wanted to flee the theater, run home to where she was

loved, and have nothing more to do with Digby. She had persuaded herself

that his racial intolerance was no threat to her, since he would never

know her true blood, but now she was not so sure. She had seen a

frightening look of lusty joy in his eyes when he hit the beggar, as when

he had bitten her shoulder, and for a dreadful moment she imagined him

hitting her as brutally if ever he found out the truth. Yet now he was

himself again, charming and gentle, escorting her into the lamplit theater

and introducing her to people of rank and honor, and being completely

attentive to her. But she could not rid her mind of the bloody face of the

beggar.

    She had never been to a theater before, and it worked a little of its

    magic on her. She felt a rush of expectation when the band struck up, the

    lamps were dimmed, and the curtain rose on a b1lightly lighted stage. The

    pretty costumes and gaudily painted scenery distracted her for a while,

    but when a soprano started to sing "Dixie," the audience rose to their

    feet to sing with her. Queen loved the song, but she was supremely

    conscious that she, a mulatta, was alone among two hundred whites

    chorusing the anthem of the Confederacy, and the strident passion of

    their voices made her want to cry.

    After the show they walked down to the riverbank to see the fireworks.

    It was a small, cheap show, but glorious to Queen, who had never seen

    fireworks before. Her fears disappeared in a cluster of rocketing color,

    and she turned to Digby, her eyes glistening.

    "Isn't it wonderful," she cried, but he did not seem to be sharing her

    excitement.

    "Those of us who fought for the Confederation don't find much joy in it,"

    he said.

    Queen turned back to look at the fireworks again, her spirits dashed.

    "I wonder if your father is celebrating in Florence," Digby asked her

    casually, softly.

    Queen didn't look at him. Fear shimmered down her spine. She had never

    told him exactly where she came from. But he knew.

    QUEEN 611

    "I know all about you," she heard Digby say. "There aren't too many

    Jacksons of Alabama. I know his plantation is called The Forks of

    Cypress, and that it is a few miles outside Florence. Not so very far

    from here."

    The image of Digby striking the beggar came into Queen's mind again. She

    thought she might run, but he would catch her easily. She stood

    stock-still, staring fixedly at the river.

    "I also know that his estate has gone to rack and ruin since the war,"

    he said.

    It hadn't been so difficult for Digby to find out, for Florence was not

    so very far away, and he had many connections. He guessed what was going

    through her mind, for he had chosen his moment to tell her, and the

    words, most carefully. It amused him to watch her, too scared even to

    look at him. A tiny, frightened sparrow, trembling, in the expectation

    of immediate disaster.

    He let the implicit threat drift into the night, and then put a smile

    into his voice.

    "You silly goose. We're none of us what we were." He could see her

    tension melt away and her beautiful shoulders droop, from relief.

    "I've watched my family's fortune fade to nothing but a stash of useless

    Confederate notes," he continued. "We are all poor now."

    She turned to took at him at last. She had been such a fool. He didn't

    know everything about her; he knew only what anyone could find out. Fear

    still lingered in her eyes, but it was overridden by her need for

    reassurance. He touched her sweet soft neck and let his fingers trace up

    to her chin. Gently, he pulled her face up to his. His mouth was inches

    from hers.

    "Here we are," he whispered. "Two lost and lonely people who have found

    each other at last."

    He kissed her tenderly, letting his lips just brush against hers, and

    looked into her eyes again.

    "I've no right to ask you, and I know I should ask your father first, but

    I think he will understand," he said. "Will you marry me?"

    Queen stared at him, in wonder, and dread, and foolishness. She felt

    faint, and thought she was going to fall, but his strong arms were there

    to support her. He held her to him and kissed

612 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

her, and she felt his tongue caress her lips and edge its way into her

mouth.

    Every rational instinct in her body told her to say no to him, to break

    away, leave him now, get away from him now, but she was betrayed by all her

    senses, and her heart and her mouth said yes.

Alice called her a fool, a blind, stupid, dangerous fool, and slapped

Queen's face to knock some sense into her. She couldn't marry Digby and keep

her blood secret forever. He was bound to find out, by a slip, or a

well-meaning acquaintance, or what if she had a baby, and a little

pickaninny popped out? At the very least, Digby would want to meet Queen's

father, and then he would know that Queen had tricked him, lied to him from

the moment that she met him. And then what would he do?

    The image of the bloody beggar came into Queen's mind, and she wept, but

    Alice was pitiless. Queen blurted out the story of the fight at the

    theater, and told Alice of Digby's frequent statement of hatred for blacks,

    and Alice stared at her in consternation.

"Then why did you say yes to him?" she asked coldly.

    "I don't know!" Queen told her truthfully. She didn't know why. Except that

    she was fond of him, and wanted to be loved. And the potential for violence

    that she had seen in him so alarmed her she would have done anything not to

    offend him.

    Alice fought hard to make her see reason, but even if Queen agreed with

    her, she didn't know what to do.

    "Get out of this, girl, as fast as you can," Alice told her. "You've been

    playing with fire too long."

    They argued for half the night. Queen knew Alice was right, but was too

    stubborn about her own romantic mistake, and too frightened of Digby to

    tell him the truth. Alice blamed herself, but not in a way that Queen

    understood. Alice was regretting that she had been stupid enough to take in

    this foolish girl who was putting everything Alice had worked so hard to

    achieve at risk.

    "Don't you understand? It isn't just you," Alice insisted. "It's all of us

    who can pass. We all come under suspicion then, just for knowing you."

    QUEEN 613

Finally, Alice delivered her ultimaturn.

    "!f You don't break it off, you will have to leave," she said.