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Authors: Alex Haley

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    beans, and moved closer to the counter and the comparative security of

    Mrs. Henderson's presence.

    After that, it was always the same. Whether the men were inside or out,

    they never directly threatened her, hardly spoke to her, but would stare

    at her as she walked by, and whistle, or snicker, and whisper what they

    would do to her if they ever found her alone on some dark night. She

    complained to Jass, but he said there was nothing he could do, and he was

    sure the men meant her no real harm. She was protected by the law. She

    tried to avoid going, but no one else would, and it was her duty. Every

    visit to the store became an ordeal, and she would stop her horse some

    little distance from the shop, and steel herself for the coming

    encounter.

 

The following summer came early, hot days in May that drained all energy.

Lizzie was listless, for she was nearly at term, and Sally had taken to

her bed with an unseasonable chill, brought on by the sharp change in the

weather. Jass had to go into Florence, on state business, and Queen wanted

to go with him to shop, but he told her not to be silly. They didn't need

much, and he couldn't get credit in town. Queen put off going to the store

for as long as she could, until it was late in the day. She might have

found reasons not to go at all, until Lizzie demanded fresh tomatoes for

a salad, and their own were not yet ripe.

    QUEEN 565

 

    Queen rode down to the store toward sunset. As usual, half a dozen young

    men were outside with Henderson, and, as usual they leered at her, but let

    her pass by unmolested. She gave her short list to Mrs. Henderson, and

    watched carefully as the tomatoes were being weighed, because she had been

    cheated before.

    "Sure don't look like two pound to me," she murmured, half to herself, but

    loudly enough for Mrs. Henderson to hear.

    "Are you saying my scales are faulty?" the aggrieved shopkeeper demanded.

    Queen shrugged. A couple of the young men had wandered into the store,

    aimless, bored.

    "You've lost none of your cheek, I see," Mrs. Henderson continued. "Ken

    your place, girl. I suppose you want this on credit?"

    "Massa Jackson's good for it, he pays his bills," Queen retorted, ill

    temper simmering. "And your prices high enough."

    It was more than she meant to say, but it was enough to provoke Mrs.

    Henderson, who eyed her carefully.

    "Are you sassing me?" she began, and overrode Queen's protestations.

    "You're accusing me of overcharging you, in front of witnesses."

    She nodded at the young men, who moved closer to enjoy the fun.

    "Credit doesn't come free, you know," Mrs. Henderson announced righteously.

    "And if the high-and-mighty Mr. Jackson has any complaints about the

    arrangement, tell him to come and see me himself"

She paused for a moment, but only for a moment.

"Not send his bastard slave girl."

    The young men laughed and muttered agreement. Queen turned on Mrs.

    Henderson in fury.

    "I ain't a slave no more," she cried, but Mrs. Henderson was in exquisite

    control. She had been wanting to do this for years.

    "You're a useless nigra, with no civil tongue in your head for decent white

    folk," she snapped.

    "in the old days she'd a been whipped," one of the young men agreed.

566 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

 

    "That's what she needs now," his companion said, advancing on Queen.

    "A good spanking, yeh, tan her little nigra tail," chimed the first.

    It was as much sport as anything; it was doubtful they would have harmed

    her here, in public, but they frightened Queen, and she saw no escape but

    retreat.

"You cain't touch me," she cried, backing out of the door.

    The young men followed, calling after her. "Come here, girl-teach you

    some manners!"

    But Queen was gone, out of the store, running to her horse tethered

    nearby. The men outside were puzzled at first, until their companions

    appeared, calling to Queen, announcing the dispute. Now they all ran to

    Queen, jeering at her. One reached her as she mounted her horse and tried

    to pull her down, but she hit him, hard, across the face, with her stock.

    At that moment, it changed from a game to a deadly chase.

    The man Queen had hit fell back, hand to a bloody gash on his cheek.

    "Slut!" he cried. His friends caught him, and ran to their own horses.

    Already it was past sunset, and a couple had the foresight to grab

    burning brands that had been lighted outside the store.

    Queen spurred her horse and galloped away as fast as she dared, but she

    was not a natural rider, and the very speed of the horse frightened her.

    She dared not took back, because she could hear the sound of the men in

    pursuit of her, the pounding of the horses, and their laughing, angry

    cries of "whore" and 11nigger slut," and the loudest voice was

    Henderson's. The road stretched straight for a clear mile before her, and

    she knew she could never outride them. Her best hope was to hide or to

    lose them, and she turned off the road and into the dense wood.

    But her pursuers were men of the land, hunting men, and it

made little difference to - them if their quarry was a frightened

animal or a black human being. They tracked her effortlessly

into the forest. Queen could not ride fast because of the tan

gled bushes, and she was scared that her horse would stumble.

As she twisted and turned her way through the trees, she could

see the flames of their burning brands, dancing, it seemed, all

around her, closer and closer, dazzling her, and all she could

hear was their taunting voices.

    QUEEN 567

 

    Her horse caught its foot on a broken log and fell, pitching Queen to the

    ground. Winded and bruised, bleeding from some small cuts caused by

    brambles, and blind with panic, she scrabbled through the undergrowth,

    searching for some tree to hide behind. The gloaming was her friend, and,

    unable to see where she was going, she slid on some rocks and pitched

    forward into a narrow ditch.

    Almost immediately, the men were upon her, sweeping their brands through

    the air in search of her, the flames almost inches from her face. They

    milled around, unable to track her in the twilight.

    "Cain't see her," called one, the fire he carried glittering in Queen's

    eyes. There was a silence, broken only by the sounds of coming night in

    the forest, and of her horse crashing through branches.

    "Ain't too far, there's her hoss," cried another, and the hooves of his

    horse knocked some stones down into the ditch, hitting Queen's face. He

    spurred away and into the night.

Gradually, the sound of them receded.

    "I ain't, giving up," she heard another shout, but farther away from her,

    moving away, and she began to feel that she might be safe, for the moment

    at least, but cowered in the muddy ditch, lest they should return.

 

She fainted from shock and fear and relief, and when she came to it was

night, with only a silver moon to guide her way. Her senses strained for

sounds or sight or feeling of the presence of the chasers, but there were

none, although the noises of the forest startled and unsettled her. She

lay clutching herself until she was sure they were gone, and crawled

slowly from the ditch.

    Although she knew she could not be more than a few miles from The Forks,

    she had no idea of where she was, and no sense of direction to guide her.

    She walked forward, believing that she must eventually arrive somewhere,

    but as she struggled on, brambles snatching at her hair, screech owls

    startling her, moss causing her to slip from time to time, despair

    settled on her.

She was hopelessly lost.

She thought of curling down somewhere, under a tree, to

568 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

 

rest until dawn, for she knew she would not sleep, but the woods were

alien to her, and almost as frightening as her pursuers, so she trudged

on, crying a little, whispering to God to bring her to some safe place.

    After she had walked for perhaps a mile, she saw a light among the trees,

    small flames, and stopped in fear, thinking it to be the brands of her

    tormentors. She held her breath and stared at the fire, wondering where

    she could hide, or if darkness was cloak enough, and then she realized

    that the flames were constant and unmoving, and brighter than any torch.

    Cautiously, carefully, she edged forward, trying not to make a sound. As

    she came closer, she saw it was a campsite, and shivered, for perhaps the

    men had settled there to wait for her, or dawn. She was exhausted and

    hungry, and every bone in her body ached, and suddenly she no longer

    cared what happened to her. She moved a little closer, and saw that the

    men sitting round the camp fire were not white.

    The color of their skin gave her a small sense of security, and she took

    a few more steps toward them, wondering how to approach them. A twig

    snapped under her foot and solved her problem, for they heard it, and

    stood to see what was happening.

"Who dat dere?" a man's voice called.

    The familiar slave dialect reassured her, and now she came out of the

    sheltering trees, and closer to the men.

    "Help me, I's lost," she called to them softly, and came closer still,

    until her face was illumined by the flickering firelight.

"It dat house nigger," another said in surprise.

    Three ex-slaves from The Forks of Cypress had made this little clearing

    their home, preferring this freedom of the forest to their previous

    bondage or any future dealings with the white man's world. Having been

    here for some months, they had started to regard the place as their home,

    and had cleared a large area. They had erected lean-to shelters from

    branches and twigs, lived off the land that was generous to them. They

    sometimes imagined that they would build a more permanent dwelling, and,

    if no one troubled them or claimed the land, they might begin some small

    farming.

They had no affection for a light-skinned mulatta who had

    QUEEN 569

 

lived in the big house, had never given them the time of day, and might

very well be a spy for their previous Massa, who owned this land, with

whom she was always close.

"Help me, please," she said again.

One man grabbed a branch, and held it up, threateningly.

"Get outa here, yalla bitch," he shouted.

    Queen had no energy to scream. Any small hope that had been kindled in

    her heart was extinguished. Not even blacks would assist her. She turned

    to leave, and then turned back again, to ask them at least to tell her

    in which direction to go, but as she did so, a light-skinned woman came

    out of a leanto.

    " Leave her be," she called to the men. She walked to the fire. "Come

    here, girl," she said to Queen.

    The woman, Pearl, had some authority over the two men she lived with, for

    each wanted her, and neither was prepared to offend her. They moved back

    a little, to allow Queen to walk to the fire.

    Queen stared at Pearl, looking for some trace of sympathy, but the

    woman's expression was'impassive. Still, she was a woman, and had averted

    immediate danger. She might understand.

    "Some white men chased me!" Suddenly the whole story came blurting out,

    and Queen was close to tears. "I fell off my horse, and got hurt. They

    wanted to-wanted-"

    She couldn't finish. Pearl's unrelenting stare unnerved her. She looked

    at the moon, raised her arms in supplication, and dropped them to her

    side again. The men were hostile, and the woman would not help. It all

    seemed useless.

    Still Pearl did not speak, as if deliberating what she would do. Then she

    glanced at the pot of possum stew, simmering over the campfire.

"Is yo' hungry?" she asked.

 

Jass was worried, and Lizzie, heavy with child, was angry. Queen had not

come home from the store; there was no sign of her, no word from her. The

children were hungry and Lizzie and Sally made them something to eat. Then

Jass came home from Florence, and Lizzie told him that Queen had run away.

Jass didn't believe it. After he had heard the full story from

570 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

 

Lizzie, he rode down to the Henderson store, and they denied any

knowledge.of Queen's whereabouts. She had been to the store, and then had

ridden away in the company of a couple of the lads whose company she was

fond of. Jass didn't believe that, either. He knew of Queen's dislike of the

store and her fear of the men who frequented it, and she would not have gone

willingly away with any of them. He rode home looking for some sign of her,

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