The Kitchen House (7 page)

I stayed close to Belle until Beattie and Fanny came for me. We approached a group of children, but they stood back, wary of us. Some were girls our age, but they didn’t speak. Our clothing was different, certainly more substantial than theirs, and they studied our feet as though they had never seen shoes.

Soon the three of us found our way back to Mama, Belle, and Dory. Belle allowed us a sip of the peach brandy the women were drinking, a rare treat sent from the big house for this holiday celebration. Rough tables stood end to end, and off to the side, men eagerly shared two jugs of corn whiskey, another gift from the big house.

Everyone became alert as the women gathered and agreed that the chickens, roasting on a spit over a bed of red coals, were cooked through. In short order, a man speared two large hams from boiling water and placed them on wooden slabs set on either side of a large black caldron of steaming black-eyed peas. The women brought simmering pots of late-season garden greens and turned crisp hot corn bread out onto the table. Others used sharp sticks
to draw roasted sweet potatoes from the ashes. Finally, supper was announced.

The women served the men first and then helped the children. They insisted that we from the big house eat with them, and I was surprised to see my family do so. They took small portions, but I saw the smiles from the women when Belle, Mama, and Dory told them how good the food tasted. When I set my bowl down, I had not finished a small piece of the ham.

Belle leaned down to me. “Eat it all,” she said quietly, and I knew from her tone not to protest.

After the women had eaten, the children were called back and given the little remaining food. On seeing their excitement, I realized this was a rare happening and was embarrassed to think that Belle had to tell me to finish the meat.

When the fiddle started up with a lively tune, the other instruments soon joined in. With a whoop, a few young couples got up to dance. The older audience members began to clap, and soon the circle around the fire was filled with happy dancers. After a few rounds, the fiddler called out, “Who gonna show us how to set de flo’? George, Mae, come on, you show us. You show us,” the older members called as they began a rhythmic clapping.

Papa George came for Mama. “Mae,” he said, bowing down, “let’s show the young ones that we still can dance.” With a show of reluctance, she rose to her feet, and when he took her to the dance floor, everyone cheered them on. Papa bowed from the waist, and Mama curtsied to him as the lively music began. Papa George repeated each step Mama Mae set out, and I could see him having fun trying to anticipate what her next step would be.

Others danced after Papa and Mama, but none generated the same excitement until Ben and Belle took their turn. Belle looked shy when she did a deep curtsy, but as she raised her eyes to Ben, he winked. To this, she responded with a strong stomp, setting the pace for a wild dance.

I overheard some women talking behind me. “She his daughter, all right,” I heard one say, “she sure the high cullah.”

Dory, seated next to Mama Mae, heard, too. She turned back to face them. “Belle a good woman. She can’t help who her daddy is,” she said.

“We know Belle a good woman,” the speaker replied, “we just sayin’ that she could pass, that all we sayin’.”

“What she pass to?” asked Dory, her voice hard. “This her family. Where she go? This her home. She born, raised here.”

Hearing Dory’s tone, Mama was about to join the conversation when a dark, thin figure standing back in the shadows caught her attention. It was Jimmy, baby Henry’s father. He beckoned to Dory, and when she saw him, she almost tripped over Beattie in her haste to follow him into the dark woods. “You be careful,” Mama whispered to Dory as she left.

After the two slipped away, an exceptionally dark and reed-thin woman approached Mama. Her hands nervously rubbed her jutting round belly. Fanny identified her to me as Jimmy’s mother, Ida.

“What we gonna do, Mae?” Ida asked, looking over her shoulder. “Rankin say he kill my Jimmy if he go by Dory again.”

“I talk to the cap’n,” said Mama. “I see him before he leave. I gonna ask that they jump the broom.”

“You knows they don’t want the mens from the quarters mixin’ with the womens in the big house. You knows that, Mae,” said Ida.

“Those two don’t stay away from each other, that what I know,” said Mama. “I tell the cap’n that Jimmy a good man for Dory. The cap’n always like Dory.”

“If the cap’n say yes, Rankin don’t like it,” said Ida.

“That overseer don’t like hisself, how he gonna like anything else?” asked Mama.

The talk stopped short when, as though summoned, the captain and his portly brother-in-law stepped into the light of the fire. Marshall and another tall man followed. The music ceased.

“Don’t stop!” the captain called out. He raised two more jugs of whiskey over his head. “Would any of you be wanting more of this?” A cheer went up, and the music began again.

“That Mista Waters, the tutor,” Fanny whispered to me, pointing out the man standing behind Marshall.

The odd-looking man had my attention. He stood with his hand firmly on Marshall’s shoulder and stared arrogantly at the people of the quarters and their surroundings. He leaned down occasionally to say something to Marshall, and it struck me how distressed Marshall looked, though he made no move to distance himself. I realize now that even as a young child, I guessed the vile nature of this man, and though I did not understand, I already sensed Marshall’s entrapment.

“Go get Dory and Jimmy,” Mama said to Ben, and he sprinted off into the dark woods.

The captain looked around the outside circle until his eyes rested on Belle. He did not pause, but came immediately over to her. “Belle,” he greeted her, “you look lovely.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, looking down.

The captain turned to Mama Mae, who had been seated beside Belle but now stood.

“Mae,” he said, “that was a fine feast you and your family provided for us today.”

“Yes, Cap’n,” Mama Mae answered.

“Does your family have everything they need for a good holiday?” he asked.

“Cap’n, we sure do have plenty,” Mama said.

“Good, good,” he said, and as though at a loss for words, he turned to look at the dancers.

“Cap’n?” I heard Mama speak again.

He turned back. “Yes, Mae?”

“Cap’n,” she said, “I needs to talk to you. It about Dory.”

“Mae,” he said, “I know about the baby. I was sorry to hear it.”

“That not the problem, Cap’n,” she said. “Dory wantin’ to marry Jimmy from down here in these quarters. He the daddy of her baby.”

“Well, Mae,” he said, “I don’t know about that. Rankin was talking to me about getting Jimmy with another girl. He seems to think that Dory is trouble for Jimmy.”

“I think he wrong about that,” said Mama.

“Do you, Mae?” the captain asked.

“I think it be good that they jump the broom,” Mama said. “George think so, too.”

“Well, Mae, you and George are family to me, and Dory means everything to Miss Martha. I suppose we could make an allowance here. But Jimmy would have to stay in the fields, and Dory would have to live up at the big house.”

“That be fine,” said Mama.

“When were they wanting to do this?” he asked.

“Quick as you say,” Mama said.

He laughed. “Tell you what, Mae. If you think it a good idea, they could marry here tonight. Would that suit you?”

“That suit everybody just fine,” said Mama, “but it maybe not good with Mr. Rankin?”

“He’ll be back in a couple of days. I’ll talk to him then. Don’t worry, Mae; I’ll take care of it. Now,” he said, looking around, “where is the young couple?”

Fortunately, Ben had found them, and they stood together next to Papa George. Mama waved them forward, and they came, with Papa George taking the lead.

“Dory, your mama says that you want to marry this young fella here,” the captain said.

Dory had been crying again. Her eyes were swollen almost shut, but she nodded.

“And Jimmy, you are wanting to jump the broom with Dory?” the captain asked.

“Yes, Cap’n,” Jimmy said, “I sure do.”

“Somebody get a broom,” shouted the captain, “we’re going to have a wedding.”

The music stopped, and the crowd gathered around. There was a low murmur of voices, and someone produced a broom.

“Now the two of you hold hands,” the captain instructed Dory and Jimmy, “and I’ll perform the ceremony.”

The broom was placed in front of the couple; the captain asked
if they would be good to each other, not go with anyone else, and have lots of babies. They both answered yes, and then he told them to jump over the broom. They held hands and jumped together, but when Jimmy tripped, everyone laughed, including the captain.

“Well, Jimmy,” he said, “we know who will be the boss of this family.”

That was it. Belle told me they were married.

“Now we celebrate!” the captain called out, and he sent Ben up to find Uncle Jacob at the big house to get more liquor. The music began again, and I was surprised when the captain came to Belle, extending his hand. “Belle,” he asked, “would you dance with me?”

Belle rose. When they approached the dance area, the other couples moved back, and as they dropped away, Belle and the captain were the only couple left dancing. It grew quiet as the two moved together, their feet pulled by the haunting strains of a lone fiddle. When Belle looked up at him, her beautiful face was flushed from the brandy. The captain gazed down at her with pride, and as he guided her around the circle of fire, his love for her was clear.

I looked for Ben, but I couldn’t find him. Then I saw Marshall. The tutor had left, and Marshall stood alone, watching the dancing couple. A chill passed over me when I saw his look of hatred.

Belle

I
F
M
ISS
M
ARTHA KEEPS DIGGING
at me, one of these times I’m gonna hand her the truth. Trouble is, if I do that, for sure the cap’n will send me away.

Christmas is always the worst time for me. It’s what I remember best, living up there in the big house. And now Marshall is sleeping in my old bedroom.

Uncle Jacob knows the story about my real mama. He says the cap’n, thirty-four years old and still not married, was down in Richmond, walking through the yard where they was selling Negroes. The cap’n sees them poking at this woman who’s standing tall on the box, looking away, like she’s the tree and they’re the dirt. When the cap’n says, “I’ll take her,” everybody laughs, and they say, “You best watch out. She’s the kind that kills you in your sleep.”

When the cap’n brings her here, his own mama, Mrs. Pyke, was real sick. My black mama knows how to work plants and gets Mrs. Pyke back on her feet. The cap’n stays here over that time, and don’t you know, that’s where I come in. But when I was born, my mama got the fever and died. They say the cap’n carried on like she was a white woman.

Ben was born that same year as me, 1773, so when Mrs. Pyke sees that Mama Mae is nursing, she brings her up from the quarters to feed me, too. Mama Mae is a hard worker, and before you know it, she’s helping Uncle in the big house and then cooking in the kitchen house. Thing was, Papa George was already working up in the barns.

Uncle say I was like the light of day to Mrs. Pyke. My grandma
showed me that there is always something to learn, that everybody got something to tell you. She got Uncle Jacob to show us how to write the Arabics, and we listened when he told us about his Fou-lah tribe and his Allah.

After Mrs. Pyke passed on, everything changed. When she was living, the big house was my home.

D
ORY ALWAYS SAYS HOW
M
ISS
Martha changes when the cap’n’s home, but Dory says it surprises her beyond all else the way Miss Martha’s like another woman with her sister in the house. She’s never seen her this happy.

Dory still misses baby Henry, but jumping the broom with Jimmy worked out good for her. Mama say, “Thank the Lawd. I always worryin’’bout those two gettin’ caught together.” Surprising me, Mama asks me about Ben. “I watch the two of you dance,” she say, “that tellin’ me somethin.”

“And you and Papa? You both in your forties and still dancing like that. That tells me something, too.”

Mama don’t smile. “That don’t tell me what I’m askin’, Belle.”

I get up to start cooking. “Maybe Ben is the one for me,” I say.

“Belle, you best be careful. You know the cap’n gonna give you the free papers and that he wantin’ to take you away,” Mama says.

I don’t tell her that Ben and me already have a kiss. When we was little, Ben was my best friend, but this year he’s more quiet and looking at me in a whole different way. It makes me smile, ’cause I’m looking back. One time, back of the henhouse, he catch me and pull me to him for a kiss. I say, “No, Ben.” He looked hurt, like I don’t want him. Then I take his sweet face in my hands and kiss him so good that he pushes me away. “Don’t you know what you doin’ to me?” he asks.