The Kitchen House Part 10

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Lavinia

BELLE WAS SO EDGY AND distracted the morning after the hog killing that had I not reminded her, she would have forgotten to give me something to eat before she sent me up to the big house. Dory, too, jumped when I opened the door to the blue room, but in turn, I gasped when I saw her. Her right eye was puffed and circled in purple, and her top lip was swollen and bruised. She turned her face from my inspection and sharply directed me into Miss Martha's bedroom. distracted the morning after the hog killing that had I not reminded her, she would have forgotten to give me something to eat before she sent me up to the big house. Dory, too, jumped when I opened the door to the blue room, but in turn, I gasped when I saw her. Her right eye was puffed and circled in purple, and her top lip was swollen and bruised. She turned her face from my inspection and sharply directed me into Miss Martha's bedroom.

The minute I came in, Mama excused herself, saying she would be back within the hour. Miss Martha sat propped up in bed, her morning care already completed. Alone with her, I felt shy. I remained back a distance from the bed while she studied me. "h.e.l.lo, Isabelle," she said. Unexpectedly, she added, "Would you bring Sally to me?"

I looked back for Mama, though I knew she had already left. My legs went weak with apprehension, but seeing no alternative, I moved closer to the bed. I met Miss Martha's eyes, took a deep breath, and said in a loud whisper, "No, I can't. She fell off the swing."

The pale woman inhaled deeply and covered her face with her hands. I was about to run for Mama when Miss Martha looked at me again, her green eyes dark with suffering. "I keep hoping it's a dream," she said, "a terrible dream."

"My name isn't Isabelle," I said, hoping to distract her.

When she looked away from me, I feared I had said the wrong thing, but when she faced me again, she smiled. "I know, dear, but please indulge me. You remind me of my sister, and it gives me such comfort to use her name." please indulge me. You remind me of my sister, and it gives me such comfort to use her name."

Certainly I understood, having named Campbell for that very reason. "It's all right if you call me Isabelle," I said.

She reached for my hand. "I know I must get strong again, I must get out of this room, but it all seems so pointless." She looked at me, searching my eyes. "I don't know what to do."

I remembered Uncle Jacob's wisdom. "You can give it to Allah," I said.

"Allah?" she asked. "Who is Allah?"

"That's another name for the Lawd." I said. "Mama says Miss Sally is playing with my ma and that the good Lawd is watching over both of them."

Miss Martha looked at me curiously, then patted the bed. "Come sit by me," she invited, and I did so. "How did you become so wise?"

I shrugged.

She fingered my braids for a minute. "How is the baby?" she asked.

"Do you want me to get him?" I asked hopefully.

She shook her head. "Not right now," she said. Sensing my disappointment, she added, "Maybe later."

I nodded, and we sat together in silence.

"Could you read to me?" she finally asked.

"I can't read," I said.

She looked taken aback. "Then I shall have to teach you."

She had just opened a book when we heard Mama's loud voice from the blue room. "I go to her first! She a lady and don't want no man in her room 'less she say so!"

"You make sure she knows I'm out here to see her on business." My neck went p.r.i.c.kly at the sound of Rankin's voice.

Mama came into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She came over to Miss Martha, leaned close to her, and whispered that the overseer was here. "He think he the masta, the way he goin' through this house. He say you just a pitiful sick woman and that he the boss of this place till the cap'n get home." goin' through this house. He say you just a pitiful sick woman and that he the boss of this place till the cap'n get home."

Miss Martha raised her eyebrows, and her cheeks colored. "Going through my house? He called me pitiful? How dare he!"

"That man out there thinkin' he runnin' your house. You gonna see him?"

"Yes, I most certainly will!"

Mama went toward the blue room, but Miss Martha called her back. "Mae. We're not in a rush. Could you give me my hand mirror?"

Mama came back to do as she was asked.

Miss Martha removed her bed cap and handed it to Mama. "Now give me my brush," she said, and had me hold the mirror for her while she arranged red curls around her shoulders. She pinched her cheeks and blinked in wide exaggeration, then looked up to see me staring at her transformation. I flushed when she smiled at me.

Mama glanced nervously back toward the door.

"Mae," Miss Martha said, "you sit in the chair. Isabelle, would you please open the door for Mr. Rankin?"

I went to the door, but as I opened it, Mama called for me to wait. She went over to the chamber pot and pushed it under the bed, then pulled an undergarment off another chair and quickly put it away. Meanwhile, through the slightly opened door, I observed Rankin standing next to Dory in the blue room. "Who hit you in the face?" he asked.

"n.o.body. I fell," Dory said quickly.

"You fell?" he said, looking her over carefully. "You sure you fell?" When Dory, clearly petrified, didn't respond, he continued, "You sure a purty little thing." He laughed. "It looks to me like you have plenty of milk for those two babies." He paused. "What do they call you again?"

"Miss Dory," Dory said with defiance.

"Miss Dory! My, my, my! We sure have some uppity folks in this big house, don't we?"

At Mama's wave, I pushed open the door and nodded to Rankin that he was to enter. He leaned down to Dory's ear before he left her. "You know Mr. Rankin always looking out for the pretty gals." He strode confidently into the bedroom. His appearance hadn't improved any, and an unclean smell trailed him. He carried a doc.u.ment.

"Mr. Rankin?" The tone of the mistress's voice stopped him from a closer approach. He looked surprised to see Mama Mae sitting in a chair.

"Well, now, Miss Martha," he addressed her after a slight hesitation, "it sure is nice to see you looking so good."

"Yes," she replied. "As you can see, I'm feeling very well."

His dirty hands fidgeted with the paper he held.

"How can I help you?" the mistress asked.

"This says that Waters has left." He approached her and handed over the doc.u.ment.

She took it and examined the broken seal. "This is addressed to the captain," she said.

"Yes, well, with things being... with you being..."

She held up her hand to quiet him while she read the doc.u.ment. "So. Mr. Waters has left?" she asked, refolding the paper.

"Yes. Yes. His belongings are gone, and it seems he took his horse, but I'm not sure..."

"Not sure of what, Mr. Rankin?" Miss Martha asked.

"Well now, he didn't tell me that he was going to leave," said Rankin.

"And why would he do that?" she asked.

He seemed at a loss for words.

"As I see it, Mr. Rankin, this is a matter for my husband. He is due back any day now. I shall let this matter rest until his return. I do thank you for your concern, but as you can see, I am quite capable of handling the house and its affairs."

"Well, I am only trying to do my job," Rankin said. "When he left, the cap'n asked me to look after the place. He didn't tell me I'd be answering to his wife, but I suppose-"

Miss Martha's tone turned frigid. "Mr. Rankin, do not let me keep you from your other duties."

The man bowed foolishly before he headed toward the door. As he left the blue room, he stopped beside Dory, who had finished with Campbell and was now feeding Sukey. On his approach, she quickly covered her breast. He stood over her for a minute, then he reached down and pinched the baby's face. Sukey cried out, and when Dory pushed away his hand, he grabbed her wrist and held it viselike while staring into her eyes. Finally, with a coa.r.s.e laugh, he released her, then left, leaving Dory to soothe herself and her baby.

From behind me I heard Miss Martha tell Mama that, as of today, Miss Martha would begin to take more exercise.

LATER, AFTER THE MIDDAY MEAL, Miss Martha rested, and I sat with Campbell while Dory went for her dinner. The baby was awake, so I picked him up and cuddled him while humming one of Mama's songs. Marshall poked his head in the doorway. His eyes were lidded, and he appeared half asleep from the opium Mama had dosed him with the night before. "Why is Waters's room cleaned out? Do you know where he is?" he whispered to me. Miss Martha rested, and I sat with Campbell while Dory went for her dinner. The baby was awake, so I picked him up and cuddled him while humming one of Mama's songs. Marshall poked his head in the doorway. His eyes were lidded, and he appeared half asleep from the opium Mama had dosed him with the night before. "Why is Waters's room cleaned out? Do you know where he is?" he whispered to me.

"He's gone," I said.

"Waters? Gone where?" he asked.

"I don't know. Mr. Rankin was here today, and he told your mother that Mr. Waters left."

"I don't believe it," Marshall said angrily, looking out into the hallway again.

"It's true," I said. "Mama said he's gone to see the debil."

"Where?"

"To see the debil," I repeated.

"The devil?" he corrected.

"I guess so," I said.

"Don't start talking like that," he said. "You're not one of them."

"What do you mean?"

"They're not like us," he said. "They're stupid."

"Who is stupid?"

"The nigras!"

"Not Belle," I said, ready to inform him of her reading skills.

"Belle!" He spat out her name. "She's nothing but a yella wh.o.r.e."

I was silent, not knowing the meaning of this.

"Don't trust any of them," he said. "They'll turn on you the minute you turn your back."

"Do you mean Ben and Papa, too?" I asked.

"They're the worst kind," he said, "the ones closest to you. They'll kill you when you sleep."

"Who said that?" I asked.

"Waters and Rankin," he said. "It happens all the time. They told me about plenty of slaves killing their masters. You've got to learn to control them before they kill all of us."

I stared at him. Marshall spoke with such conviction that in spite of myself, I wondered if there was cause for fear.

"Don't worry, though," he said, "I'll look out for you."

Campbell began to fuss, so I loosened his blanket. When I looked back up, Marshall had left. I was troubled by what he had said, and later that night I asked Belle what he could have meant. She told me it was foolishness and that it sounded as though Marshall had spent too much time with Rankin.

MISS M MARTHA'S MENTAL AND PHYSICAL health strengthened as her laudanum doses diminished. Now, in the late mornings, she kept me with her. She had writing slates brought to her and began to teach me to read and to write. I was an eager student and relished her attention, though I wondered that she did not care more for her own children. She never asked after Marshall, and when she began to visit the downstairs rooms again, she was content to view Campbell in Dory's care but never requested to hold him. I noted, too, as we made our way through the upstairs hallway, past Sally's room, that she kept her eyes averted. health strengthened as her laudanum doses diminished. Now, in the late mornings, she kept me with her. She had writing slates brought to her and began to teach me to read and to write. I was an eager student and relished her attention, though I wondered that she did not care more for her own children. She never asked after Marshall, and when she began to visit the downstairs rooms again, she was content to view Campbell in Dory's care but never requested to hold him. I noted, too, as we made our way through the upstairs hallway, past Sally's room, that she kept her eyes averted.

Downstairs, there were four very large rooms for us to visit. The hallway, painted a vibrant blue, ran the center of the house and was large enough to accommodate furniture of its own, but the wide stairway was its focal point. On the east side, to the back, the dining room had walls covered in murals that displayed panoramic views of blue water with s.h.i.+ps and green hills with horses. This splendid room was fronted by a formal drawing room. stairway was its focal point. On the east side, to the back, the dining room had walls covered in murals that displayed panoramic views of blue water with s.h.i.+ps and green hills with horses. This splendid room was fronted by a formal drawing room.

Across the hall on the west side of the house was a large parlor, and behind that, the library, also known as the study. The parlor was the least formal of the rooms, and it was here that Miss Martha seemed to find something of herself.

As in all the downstairs rooms, the parlor had twelve-foot ceilings. Its three large windows had wooden shutters that folded neatly back into wall pockets when daylight was desired. The walls were painted bright green, and the pine floors were covered in different-size rugs, each of intricate pattern and of varying color. Gold-framed portraits graced the walls, and although I intended to ask their origin, the opportunity never presented itself in those years.

In a corner opposite the marble fireplace, where Uncle Jacob never failed to have a blazing fire, was a harpsichord; in the companion corner stood a tall clock, its casing made of rich black walnut. Between the two, a handsome library table held two large books; resting beside them were spectacles that I a.s.sumed belonged to the captain. In the center of the room was a tea table and, circling it, a settee and three comfortable chairs. While I sat with her there, Miss Martha told me stories about herself and her childhood, and over the course of those days, she spoke freely of her early history, obviously glad to recall a time when she felt safe and loved.

She had two sisters. The older sister, Sarah, had been the visitor from Williamsburg. The younger one, Isabelle, "died when she was twelve. It was a great loss," Miss Martha said, then quickly began to speak of her mother. She was from England, stern and exacting and intent on raising proper English daughters. Her father was the opposite. As a young man, he had come from Ireland. With opportunity and dedication to hard work, he had become a wealthy merchant. A loud and boisterous man, he was forever embarra.s.sing his wife, but she tolerated it, as he was a force to be dealt with in Philadelphia society. Most important to Miss Martha, her father loved his daughters with a pride that knew no limits. "He spoiled us so," she said. "If we asked for a gown, we were given two; if we asked for a bonnet, we were given three." his wife, but she tolerated it, as he was a force to be dealt with in Philadelphia society. Most important to Miss Martha, her father loved his daughters with a pride that knew no limits. "He spoiled us so," she said. "If we asked for a gown, we were given two; if we asked for a bonnet, we were given three."

"Did they ever come here to see you?" I asked.

"Only once," Miss Martha said. "The trip was so long, and my mother's health was already failing by then. I sometimes wonder if the trip here hastened her... pa.s.sing."

During one of these story times, Miss Martha took me into the study. She went to a large desk and paused to run her hand along the polished edge. "This was my father's desk," she said. She opened the drawer and removed a packet of letters bound with a grosgrain ribbon. "These are from my mother."

"That's a pretty ribbon," I said.

She invited me to sit on a chair next to her. "Yes," she said, untying the bow, "blue was always my favorite color. What is yours?"

"Green," I said, thinking of Belle's head rag and my doll's clothing.

"Ah," she said, smiling at me, "the green of Ireland."