The Kitchen House (46 page)

“She don’t know no better, Jamie, but Miss Martha your grandma. Mama Mae says she’s real good to you and—”

“So it’s true that Marshall is my father?”

“Yes,” I say. “He used me.”

Lucy comes ’round the corner of the kitchen house, calling out, saying she needs George to come help out in the big house. Jamie don’t wait. He turns, and before I get a chance to say, “It’s all right, it’s just Lucy,” Jamie’s gone.

My whole body starts shaking. Lucy sees Jamie run off. “Who that? Who that?” she calls out when she comes huffing over.

“Lucy! Shush!” I say.

“Who that?” she whispers real loud when she gets to me.

I hand her the papers. She opens them, looks real close, then gives them back. “You know I can’t read,” she says. “What’s a white man doin’ here, talkin’ to you for?”

“He gives me my free papers,” I say. I look off, hoping Jamie’s still in the trees, but my heart tells me he’s gone. “That’s my Jamie.” I sit right down in the dirt and start to cry.

I go to see Will Stephens that night. He looks over my papers and says, “Well, Belle, this means that you are a free woman.”

“But you give a lot of money for me,” I say.

“And every penny was worth it,” he says.

“If I stay and work real hard for you, can you give me money to buy Jamie?”

“I don’t think that Marshall will sell him, but in a court of law these papers just might be enough to set him free.”

“He’d kill my boy before he’d give him papers! Marshall needs money real bad and I’m thinking if I pay him enough for two people, he’ll let Jamie go.”

Will shakes his head. “It would take you a lifetime to pay off that kind of debt.”

“I got no place to go. The thing is, you want me, I’m asking to stay here anyway,” I say.

Will Stephens push his hands through his hair the way he does when he thinking. “I’ll tell you what. I’m sure Lucy has told you that the doctor said I have got to take Martha to the mountains for a few weeks. He thinks the cooler air will make it easier for her.
I’m leaving Ben in charge and I need to count on you to support him. As soon as I get back, we’ll deal with this. Then, if you choose not to go through the court I will find you the money. When you decide the action you want to take, we will send a solicitor with your proposal.”

I keep myself from saying more. I know Will Stephens is good as his word. If he says he’ll find me the money, then he’ll find me the money. But I know for sure that his law man will do no good. We tried that over and over. No. I know Marshall got to see me. He got to see me on my knees.

The morning Will and Miss Martha drive out, it’s so hot and dry, the wheels on the wagon sound like they’re going over cracklin’. We all know Will don’t want to leave this place, but he’s the kind of man who do right by his wife.

A
LMOST TWO WEEKS GO BY.
I know Will Stephens is coming back any day. Every morning I look out for Jamie, but he don’t come back. After seeing my boy, I can’t think of nothing else. I know I got to help him, get him out of there, away from Marshall. I keep waiting for Jamie to show up so I can tell him about the money that Will’s giving me so I can get him free.

When Jamie don’t come, I think, I got to get over there before Will gets back. I got it in my head that just maybe, if I talk to Marshall, he’ll see my way. I’ll show Marshall my papers, maybe even tell him the cap’n’s my daddy.

I wait until suppertime, when Ben and Lucy’s eating, then I send George over to them, say my head’s hurting and I’m gonna have a lay-down. Then I head out. I walk fast and don’t think about nothing, so I don’t get too scared to keep going. When I get there, I head right to the kitchen house. I count my steps to keep myself from turning back. One, two, three. One, two, three. I don’t look around, I just watch my feet heading to the kitchen house. One, two, three. One, two, three.

Sure enough, there he is with Beattie.

He don’t say nothing, just stares at me. Scared as I am, I stare
back. It’s five years, maybe, since I see Marshall. I know he’s got no more than thirty years on him, but he looks almost as old as the cap’n before he dies. Most of his hair is gone from the top of his head, and his color’s more yellow than white. I know he’s drinking because I can smell it coming off him. I walk over and hold open my papers for him to see. I say, “I’m a free woman, Marshall. Your daddy, he gives me the free papers a long time ago. Now I’m wanting to buy my Jamie from you. I’ll give you the money for two strong men.”

Marshall’s slow to stand, but when he does, his face gets all red. “Have you lost your mind?” he says. “What is she doing here?” He look around like there’s somebody who’s gonna give him the answer.

I keep talking. “I’m hoping it’ll be all right with you,” I say, “if I send Jamie to Philadelphia. He can live there like a white boy.”

“Live like a … He’s a nigra, you fool! He’s a nigra!”

“But he’s white as you. You’re his daddy,” I say. “It’s time you stand behind that.”

“Get out of here!”

“Marshall,” I say, “Jamie’s your boy—”

Beattie’s standing behind Marshall, shaking her head at me to stop talking, but it’s too late. I’m gonna say what I got to say.

“He’s your boy, Marshall! What’re you gonna do? Are you just gonna sell him like you’re selling everybody else?”

Marshall moves so fast that I don’t see his fist coming. It hits so hard, everything spins.

“Where’s my gun?” he starts hollering. Beattie’s yelling and crying and holding him back. “Run, Belle, run!”

So I do.

Lavinia

T
HE AIR SHIMMERED FROM THE
heat. One unbearably hot afternoon toward the end of August, I insisted that Elly stay indoors, away from the intense rays of the sun. Fanny sat with her, the two of them dressing Elly’s baby doll. Miss Martha was restless, and I tried to soothe her by reading aloud. Jamie, who had been out since early morning, had returned only a short while before. He sat slouched in a chair watching me. His attitude toward the new me, the person minus the laudanum, was wary. In return, I was watchful of him. I had searched my room for Belle’s papers and realized they were missing. I guessed by process of elimination that Jamie had them in his possession, and though I wanted to query him, I was not in a hurry to confront this sullen boy.

Jamie’s disagreeable attitude baffled Miss Martha, and though he was still kind to her, he said not a friendly word to the rest of us. A few days before, I had gone to Mama Mae and brought up the subject of Jamie’s presence in the house. I had told her that even I could see it was time for a change and I was ready to carry through on the promise I had made.

Still protective of my recovery, Mama suggested that I wait for another week to have my discussion with Jamie. She thought I should gain more strength to cope with not only Jamie’s response but Miss Martha’s reaction as well. I was relieved, for I dreaded the outcome.

My mother-in-law reached out her hand to stop my reading, then asked Fanny to readjust the window blinds to let in more of a breeze. As Fanny carried out the request, she peeked through the wooden slats. At her sudden cry, Jamie jumped up and ran to join
her. His startled gasp had me put down my book. I went to the window as well.

Rankin was down at the big barn alongside a rough-looking stranger. They had Eddy, Fanny’s husband, tied between them, and while the stranger pulled, Rankin prodded the captive from behind. The blinds clanked as Fanny dropped the cord and at once was outdoors, sprinting across the yard to her husband. She catapulted herself into the middle of the three men and threw her arms around Eddy to hold him back. Rankin yanked her away and shoved her to the ground as they pulled Eddy on toward the quarters.

When Marshall came out of the barn, he was carrying a horsewhip. Fanny, who had fallen to her knees, begged his help, but he ignored her and strode on down the hill, following the men to the quarters. Fanny did not get up but knelt in the hot sun, staring after them until Beattie ran to her from the kitchen house. Within minutes, the two of them were with us in the bedroom. Fanny was frantic.

“They gonna sell him.” She shook my arm. “They gonna sell my Eddy. Please, please, Miss Abinia, don’t let that happen. He a good man, you know this, please do somethin’, please do somethin’, Abinia.”

Miss Martha’s voice was high and thin, but she spoke with authority. “Get the captain,” she said. “I’m certain there’s been a mistake.”

“No! No!” Fanny bolted to Miss Martha’s side. “They takin’ him, there no mistake, they takin’ him. Beattie say the nigga trader here, he sendin’ him off.”

Mama Mae and Uncle Jacob, doing inventory down in the basement storage rooms, had heard the commotion and joined us. Mama’s breathing was heavy, and she dropped onto the nearest chair. Fanny ran to her while Elly, frightened at Fanny’s distress, went to Uncle Jacob.

“They got Eddy,” Fanny sobbed, “that nigga trader here for Eddy. I think they takin’ others from the quarters, too.”

Beattie spoke for the first time. She whispered. “They take most everybody from the quarters. They all tied up. They leavin’ tomorrow.” Unable to look at us, she covered her face with her hands and spoke through them. “I hear them talkin’. They talk ’bout takin’ Mama and Jamie, too.”

Her muffled words were all too clear. I turned to Mama Mae. “That’s impossible!” I said.

Mama Mae looked at me but didn’t answer.

“Somebody got to do somethin’! They takin’ my Eddy!” Fanny cried again.

“For God’s sake!” I said helplessly, then turned to Beattie. “Do you know anything more? What else, Beattie?”

“All I know is they gettin’ most everybody from down the quarters ready to go in the mornin’. And they talk ’bout sellin’ Mama and Jamie.”

“That can’t be! You’re mistaken!” I shouted, and stomped my foot.

Beattie shook her head. She whispered, “No, Abinia, I knows this. Masta Marshall say if I tell about Mama and Jamie, he sell my boys.”

“And the others? Papa George? Is Marshall planning to sell him, too?” I asked.

“No,” Beattie said, “he say that he needin’ him.”

“He can’t do this!” I clutched her arm and willed myself not to panic.

Beattie spoke in a rush. “He say he needin’ the money, that he got to sell. He say Mama gettin’ old, but she still bring a good price. Fanny and Uncle here take care of the house. Masta Marshall say he gonna sell Jamie after Belle come and tell him that she have her free papers and that she wantin’ to buy her Jamie. Masta Marshall say he gonna sell her boy to make sure she don’t get him.”

Mama Mae’s face had turned ashen, and she looked as though she might topple off the chair. I rushed to her side. “Are you all right, Mama?” I asked. When she didn’t answer, I grabbed the glass of water from Miss Martha’s bedside stand and gave it to her. While she drank, I ran to look out the window. “Beattie,” I said,
“go back to the kitchen. He mustn’t know that you were here. Go now, while it’s clear. Hurry! And say nothing.”

“But Mama—” Beattie began.

Mama Mae finally spoke. “Go, chil’. Go now, quick.”

I pushed Beattie through the open door, then closed it behind her. “Jamie,” I said, “you must go to Belle—tonight.”

Miss Martha sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She reached out toward Jamie, and he went to her side.

“We’ll hide you until dark,” I said. “Mama, you’ll have to go with him.”

“That not gonna work.” Mama shook her head. “That the first place Masta Marshall look for me. I stay here. Jamie get to Belle, they get away.”

“Mama, please,” I pleaded. “You must go with them.”

“I stayin’ here, Abinia. I talk to Masta Marshall. That the best way for me. I don’t leave George. Masta Marshall know this.”

“Mama, please!”

“No, Abinia, I stay here,” Mama Mae said, “and that be that.” She leaned back heavily in her chair.

Jamie knelt beside Miss Martha but looked at me. “Should I go now?”

“No. We’ll hide you until tonight.” My mind frantically sought out a hiding place: the attic, the basement, the smokehouse? Suddenly, there were loud voices, then footsteps on the stairs, and the bedroom door flew open before I could reach it. Rankin stood beside Marshall, his drunken smirk directed toward me.

“Marshall! What in heaven’s name?” I asked.

“Get her out of here,” he said, nodding toward Elly. Uncle Jacob, who had taken the child onto his lap, began to rise, but I motioned for him to sit down again.

“No, Marshall,” I said, “I want Elly here with me.”

“Very well,” Marshall said, “suit yourself. Let her see the mess you’ve created.” His words were slurred, and even from a distance, he stank of liquor. He strode over to Jamie and yanked him to his feet. “Boy,” he said, “you’re coming with us.”

Jamie was too frightened to react. Miss Martha straightened herself. “Sir,” she said in a formidable tone, “send for the captain. He’ll settle this.”

“Mother, I’ve had enough!” Marshall turned on her. “This is a nigra’s boy! Look at him! He’s a nigra!” He grabbed Jamie’s neck and shoved his face toward her as Jamie cried out in pain.