The Kitchen House Part 13

I nodded, but my throat hurt too much to speak.

"Tell Ida that she like to nurse before she play," Dory instructed me, "then after, you hold her. She know you. You play with her." me, "then after, you hold her. She know you. You play with her."

I nodded again, wanting only to turn away from the pain on Dory's face. As we watched them drive away, this time it was Dory, holding Campbell, who did not turn back to wave. Belle had her arm around my shoulders, and I hid my head against her as I began to wail at my loss.

IDA, NURSING A CHILD OF her own, came up from the quarters to feed her grandchild, Sukey. Screaming for most of the first day, Sukey wouldn't nurse. Finally, to everyone's great relief, she accepted Ida's nourishment that evening. She nursed, stopped to cry, then suckled again. Later, Mama took her home but returned soon after with the crying child. I must have seemed the most familiar to the baby, for when Sukey saw me, she reached out her dimpled arms and clung to me. her own, came up from the quarters to feed her grandchild, Sukey. Screaming for most of the first day, Sukey wouldn't nurse. Finally, to everyone's great relief, she accepted Ida's nourishment that evening. She nursed, stopped to cry, then suckled again. Later, Mama took her home but returned soon after with the crying child. I must have seemed the most familiar to the baby, for when Sukey saw me, she reached out her dimpled arms and clung to me.

It was decided that she would sleep next to me on my pallet, with Belle watching over us. When Sukey woke during the night, Belle lit a lamp and made her way through the darkness down to the springhouse. On her return, she warmed some of the milk she had fetched. We dipped a corner of a clean cloth into it, and although the baby fussed, she swallowed the warm liquid that dripped into her throat.

It took a full week before Sukey settled into a routine, accepting Ida's breast morning and evening. Belle and I supplemented those feedings with cow's milk. That first week I felt alternately flattered by the baby's preference for me, then overwhelmed by the responsibility of it. I longed to be holding Campbell and could only hope that Dory was caring for him as I was caring for Sukey.

BEFORE THE CAPTAIN'S DEPARTURE, HE made a decision that affected everyone for the better. He employed Will Stephens, the young man who had stood back from the patrollers in Belle's kitchen. I knew that Papa George and Mama Mae had met with the captain about hiring him. made a decision that affected everyone for the better. He employed Will Stephens, the young man who had stood back from the patrollers in Belle's kitchen. I knew that Papa George and Mama Mae had met with the captain about hiring him.

A few nights before the departure, Belle, too, had a meeting with the captain. I was not there, but the encounter had an unhappy effect on Belle. Even with the frantic preparations to send off the travelers, it was easy to see that Belle was upset. with the captain. I was not there, but the encounter had an unhappy effect on Belle. Even with the frantic preparations to send off the travelers, it was easy to see that Belle was upset.

After they left, she withdrew into herself until, after a few days of isolation, Mama came for an evening visit. Sukey and I were already in bed, but I was wide awake as I listened to the conversation.

Belle steered questions away from herself. She asked Mama, "So why did the cap'n hire Will Stephens?"

"He gonna work with Rankin, but he mostly here if we needin' him up at the big house. He gonna write to the cap'n and tell him what happenin' while the cap'n and Miss Martha away." Mama forged ahead. "Belle, I'm wonderin' what the cap'n say to you 'bout you leavin'?"

"Mama, he got a man for me to marry!" Belle began to cry. I felt better when her sobs became m.u.f.fled because I knew then that Mama's arms were around her.

"What he tell you 'bout him?" Mama said.

"He's a free black man living in Philadelphia. He has his own business making shoes, and the cap'n says he's gonna buy us a good house. He's coming for me when the cap'n comes back."

"We always know this day comin', Belle," Mama said.

Belle blew her nose. "Make sure Ben stays away, Mama. The cap'n said again that Rankin got the right to sell him off."

"Papa makin' sure to keep Ben away."

"I don't want to go, Mama," she wailed.

"You got to do this, Belle. You gonna be free," Mama said.

"The cap'n said that he sent my free papers at Christmas."

"He send them?" Mama said. "Where they at?"

"I don't know. He say he send them with Miss Martha's packages."

"Did you tell him that you don't get them from her?"

"No, but they got to be up at the house."

"Belle, you got to find those papers!"

"I know, Mama, but there's somethin' else."

"What's that?"

"I asked to take f.a.n.n.y or Beattie, thinking they'd get their free papers, but he said no. I got to take Lavinia," Belle said.

"He gonna let her go free?" Mama asked.

"That's what he said," Belle said.

"Well, then, that be that."

I sat up, my heart pounding with this news. I didn't want to leave. This was my home! When Sukey fussed, I lay back down and stroked her dimpled hand for comfort until I finally drifted off to sleep. But I woke again in the night, nauseated with fear. I had dreamed that I was riding away from the plantation in a large black carriage and that I was all alone, like Marshall.

THE NEXT MORNING I I ASKED ASKED Belle if I was going away with her. "I think so," she said, "but we're here now, so there's no need to worry." When I pressed for more information, she answered me sharply. "Look, Lavinia, I don't want to talk about this no more. We'll see what happens when the cap'n comes home." I knew from her tone that Belle would not discuss it further, so I told her about the package that I had forgotten about-the one addressed to her, the one I had seen at Christmas. She and Mama had me show her the desk drawer that I thought Miss Martha had put it in, but it was not there. Together they searched the house for the papers, but they were nowhere to be found. The two finally gave up, knowing that on the captain's return, the matter would be resolved. Belle if I was going away with her. "I think so," she said, "but we're here now, so there's no need to worry." When I pressed for more information, she answered me sharply. "Look, Lavinia, I don't want to talk about this no more. We'll see what happens when the cap'n comes home." I knew from her tone that Belle would not discuss it further, so I told her about the package that I had forgotten about-the one addressed to her, the one I had seen at Christmas. She and Mama had me show her the desk drawer that I thought Miss Martha had put it in, but it was not there. Together they searched the house for the papers, but they were nowhere to be found. The two finally gave up, knowing that on the captain's return, the matter would be resolved.

With Will Stephens in place, life for us that summer was easy. If it hadn't been for the knowledge that Belle and I were being sent away, it might have been the happiest of times.

Mama took the opportunity to teach the twins and me how to clean the big house. She showed us how to sprinkle fine sand on the yellow pine floors, then to sweep them clean with water. She instructed us on how to polish the furniture using linseed oil or beeswax, depending on the wood. Then came the day that Mama took us to clean out the nursery. Before he left, the captain had asked Mama to move Sally's things to the attic and have the room ready for Campbell on their return. After Mama opened the door to the children's room, the twins and I entered, mouths agape. There were two beds, two chests of drawers, and more playthings than I ever could have imagined. A child's table was draped with a small linen cloth and set with a miniature pink and white china tea set. A gray and white rocking horse stood at the ready, his black mane swept to one side, his dark eyes inviting us to ride. On one of the two child-size chairs, I recognized Sally's porcelain doll. The room was filled with the little girl's presence. ready for Campbell on their return. After Mama opened the door to the children's room, the twins and I entered, mouths agape. There were two beds, two chests of drawers, and more playthings than I ever could have imagined. A child's table was draped with a small linen cloth and set with a miniature pink and white china tea set. A gray and white rocking horse stood at the ready, his black mane swept to one side, his dark eyes inviting us to ride. On one of the two child-size chairs, I recognized Sally's porcelain doll. The room was filled with the little girl's presence.

Mama nodded, giving us permission to examine the toys. We did not hesitate and soon were caught up in the excitement of touching so many treasures. I picked up a picture book and was delighted to find that I could read it. f.a.n.n.y tried on a wide-brimmed straw hat that had been on one of the beds. Then she went to peer at herself in a small mirror that hung on the wall over a low dresser. Beattie reverently picked up the doll and held it in her lap while stroking its blond curls. We shared our finds until Mama, looking uneasy all the while, told us it was time to pack Sally's things away. After Uncle Jacob carried the boxes away to store them on the third floor, there was an odd, empty feel to the room, and we were happy to leave.

In the following days, Mama had us help her clean out the blue room, too. I was not prepared for the feelings of melancholy when I was surrounded by Campbell's things. I wondered how I could bear to be without him if I were to leave for Philadelphia.

We carried Campbell's cradle and supplies to the nursery, but now that room seemed dark and overlarge for a baby. I couldn't help feeling we should have left the room as it was, for with the removal of Miss Sally's belongings, we seemed to have taken away what had been left of her pink light.

BEN SURPRISED EVERYONE IN EARLY June when he announced that he had jumped the broom with a girl from down in the quarters. She was a field worker, and her name was Lucy. Mama seemed hesitant to tell Belle of the union, and when she did, though Belle said June when he announced that he had jumped the broom with a girl from down in the quarters. She was a field worker, and her name was Lucy. Mama seemed hesitant to tell Belle of the union, and when she did, though Belle said not a word, she could not keep the look of betrayal and hurt from her eyes. not a word, she could not keep the look of betrayal and hurt from her eyes.

The newly married couple spent the following nights in Ben's sleeping quarters down by the barn, but the bride left early every morning at the sound of the horn to join the others from the quarters as they headed out for the fields. Rankin had agreed to the wedding, providing that Lucy remain a worker under him.

AT THE END OF JUNE, Will Stephens brought Belle the first letter from Philadelphia. He was a striking man with deep-set brown eyes, a firm jaw, and an easygoing smile. Of average height, he was strongly built and carried himself with a.s.surance. He always took off his hat when he came indoors and had a habit of pus.h.i.+ng back his thick brown hair before he spoke. Will's directness was his greatest charm. He looked into your eyes, and when you looked back, you knew he was incapable of deceit. When Will brought that first letter, I heard him apologize to Belle for the episode in the spring when Rankin had ahold of her. Will said he had shamed himself by not stepping forward to help her, and he asked her forgiveness. Belle was shy with him but accepted his apology. He then asked if he should read the letter to her, though he did not seem surprised when Belle declined and instead presented her open hand. After he left, she sent me to the big house to get Mama. On our return, I held Sukey while we listened to Belle read the letter aloud. Will Stephens brought Belle the first letter from Philadelphia. He was a striking man with deep-set brown eyes, a firm jaw, and an easygoing smile. Of average height, he was strongly built and carried himself with a.s.surance. He always took off his hat when he came indoors and had a habit of pus.h.i.+ng back his thick brown hair before he spoke. Will's directness was his greatest charm. He looked into your eyes, and when you looked back, you knew he was incapable of deceit. When Will brought that first letter, I heard him apologize to Belle for the episode in the spring when Rankin had ahold of her. Will said he had shamed himself by not stepping forward to help her, and he asked her forgiveness. Belle was shy with him but accepted his apology. He then asked if he should read the letter to her, though he did not seem surprised when Belle declined and instead presented her open hand. After he left, she sent me to the big house to get Mama. On our return, I held Sukey while we listened to Belle read the letter aloud.

It told of the travelers' safe arrival and it carried alarming news as well. Miss Martha's father was ill, but worse, it was feared that Philadelphia was in the midst of a yellow fever epidemic. The captain stated his desire to return home, but Miss Martha refused to leave her sick father. Another letter was promised within two weeks.

True to his word, two weeks later, we received further correspondence from the captain. Will Stephens came again to deliver the letter, and this time Belle invited him in. Ben happened to be replacing the iron crane in the kitchen fireplace, and when he walked in and heard Belle cheerfully conversing with Will Stephens, he quickly rushed back out. I wondered why he looked so angry. walked in and heard Belle cheerfully conversing with Will Stephens, he quickly rushed back out. I wondered why he looked so angry.

Again Belle waited to read the letter until Will Stephens left, then sent me in search of Mama. This time the news was grim. Miss Martha's father had died. The captain was now ill, and although he was still able to dictate the letter, he was unable to travel. Miss Martha, Campbell, and Dory were all well-Mama gave a sigh of relief-but they were not likely to return in August, as scheduled.

At the end of July, Will Stephens came to the kitchen house, holding open a letter that had been addressed to him. Mama, seeing his solemn approach, ran up from the chicken coop.

"I have bad news," he said, looking first to Belle, then to Mama. "I'm sorry to tell you... Dory has died from yellow fever."

Mama sank to a chair, and Belle rushed to her side.

"I'll get George," Will Stephens said. After he left, the silence was so deep that I held my breath, fearing the least sound would catapult us into pain. My arms felt weak, and I slowly set Sukey on the floor. Used to attention, she pulled my skirt to her eyes and played peekaboo, breaking the silence with her laughter. Mama gave a low moan and pulled her ap.r.o.n up to her face, trying to hide her anguish. Sukey, thinking this part of a game, crawled over and pulled herself up to stand beside her grandmother's knee. "Boo. Boo," she said with an expectant smile.

When Mama lifted up her grandchild, Sukey laughed and threw her arms around her grandmother's neck. When Mama Mae began to cry, we all began to cry.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Belle

FOR A COUPLE A DAYS after we hear Dory's gone, Mama don't act like herself. She walks up to the big house, then she comes down again to the kitchen, forgetting why she's going up there. She says, "Maybe Dory comin' home... maybe they got it wrong... maybe when that carriage come back, Dory come runnin' down to get her Sukey." after we hear Dory's gone, Mama don't act like herself. She walks up to the big house, then she comes down again to the kitchen, forgetting why she's going up there. She says, "Maybe Dory comin' home... maybe they got it wrong... maybe when that carriage come back, Dory come runnin' down to get her Sukey."

Papa says Mama just needs some time. It's hard on her, he says, not to see for herself, not to have Dory here to put down next to baby Henry. I know Dory's gone. I feel it when I hold Sukey. Dory's like my own sister. But I don't show my feelings. I try to stay strong for Mama.

Sukey's hanging on to Lavinia, who's good with her, but I know that Lavinia's waiting on Campbell. I don't know why she cares for that baby like she do. I wonder what happens when we go to Philadelphia and she got to leave him behind.

Papa don't look me in the eye when he sees me. I know he got Ben to jump the broom with Lucy. When I think of Benny's lips on her, I want to stomp that girl's head. She's just some ugly thing up from the quarters! One night I go down to Ben's place, just to know for sure. I hear them together, and they're sounding like animals, but I stay to listen 'cause I can't move, my feet won't take me. My heart's banging so hard I sit right down in the high gra.s.s, never mind the snakes. I stay till Benny's snoring, then I go back to my house. I can't see for crying. Next day Ben's working here in my kitchen when Will Stephens comes with a letter. I talk to Will like he's one fine man. Ben's eyes are spittin' fire when he runs out of here! Makes me feel good.

Everybody's thinking that when I go to Philadelphia and get with the cap'n's shoe man, then I'm gonna be happy. But I don't want no ugly shoe man. I want my Benny. If they just put Lucy back in the quarters and give Benny to me, I won't say a thing about it. I don't sleep at night, thinking how to do Lucy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Lavinia

THE LAST OF THE LEAVES were falling the mid-November afternoon of 1793 when the black carriage rolled up the drive. The captain and his party had finally come home. f.a.n.n.y and Beattie were in the big house with Mama and Uncle Jacob, preparing for the travelers' arrival. While Sukey napped, I worked alongside Belle in the kitchen, where we were about to put the finis.h.i.+ng touches on plum cakes. To make them, we had added currants and raisins to a pound cake recipe, then poured the batter into small tins. The little cakes were still warm from baking, and before Belle gave me one as a treat, she drizzled a white-sugar coating over the crusty top. When I heard the carriage roll up, I gulped down the cake in a few large bites as I ran for the big house. I was beside myself with excitement. Campbell was home! were falling the mid-November afternoon of 1793 when the black carriage rolled up the drive. The captain and his party had finally come home. f.a.n.n.y and Beattie were in the big house with Mama and Uncle Jacob, preparing for the travelers' arrival. While Sukey napped, I worked alongside Belle in the kitchen, where we were about to put the finis.h.i.+ng touches on plum cakes. To make them, we had added currants and raisins to a pound cake recipe, then poured the batter into small tins. The little cakes were still warm from baking, and before Belle gave me one as a treat, she drizzled a white-sugar coating over the crusty top. When I heard the carriage roll up, I gulped down the cake in a few large bites as I ran for the big house. I was beside myself with excitement. Campbell was home!

Uncle Jacob and Mama were already at the carriage; f.a.n.n.y and Beattie stood to their side, prepared to help. Miss Martha was the first to emerge. It was hard to believe the toll that the past difficult months had taken on her. Before, I had seen her ill, but this was different. Now her face was drawn and deeply lined, and she squinted into the light as she stepped heavily down from the carriage. Nothing, though, prepared me for the appearance of the emaciated, aged-looking man Uncle Jacob helped from the carriage. The captain had survived yellow fever but looked to have lost his very person. After the captain and the mistress were taken into the house, I waited alone with eager antic.i.p.ation for Campbell and his nurse to appear. Finally, I could wait no longer and approached the carriage.

"Campbell," I called softly, certain he would recognize my voice.

The interior of the carriage was surprisingly small and smelled horribly of sickness. After my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw it was empty. I raced in through the front door and caught the small party as they headed upstairs.

"Where's Campbell?" I called after them.

Mama turned back and shook her head to silence me. "He with Dory," she said.

I stood for a long moment, trying to take in the meaning of Mama's words. Then I ran out again to look once more in the carriage. Stunned, I made my way down to the kitchen house. Belle had Sukey in her arms when she found me out beside the woodpile, where I was vomiting up the plum cake.

Belle's eyes filled with compa.s.sion when I recovered enough to tell her about Campbell. Sukey put her arms out for me, and to my own shock, I hit at her. She was startled, for she had never been struck. Confused, she began to scream for me, wanting me to hold her. I couldn't bear her tears and reached for her through my despair. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I cried, taking her in my arms. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Belle held my chin and turned my face to hers. "Don't you go blaming yourself," she said. "You had nothing to do with that baby dying."

With Sukey's arms clinging tight round my neck, I wept. Through the next weeks, it was her need for me that brought me back.

f.a.n.n.y, AS IT TURNED OUT, became the captain's favorite nurse. He was drawn to her quick ways, and when she expressed her observations coupled with her wit, she frequently coaxed from him a smile and even, on occasion, a chuckle. The doctor came often to bleed his patient, but after he left, the captain appeared more lethargic than before. Mama observed this for a few weeks until she finally convinced the captain to refuse the doctor his bloodletting treatments. After the captain agreed, she worked hard to stimulate his appet.i.te. In the morning before the sun rose, Mama went out became the captain's favorite nurse. He was drawn to her quick ways, and when she expressed her observations coupled with her wit, she frequently coaxed from him a smile and even, on occasion, a chuckle. The doctor came often to bleed his patient, but after he left, the captain appeared more lethargic than before. Mama observed this for a few weeks until she finally convinced the captain to refuse the doctor his bloodletting treatments. After the captain agreed, she worked hard to stimulate his appet.i.te. In the morning before the sun rose, Mama went out with one of the twins, and while they held the lantern, she killed a chicken. Then she brought it to the kitchen, cleaned the bird, and simmered it with a large handful of fresh green parsley from the garden, cloves of garlic, onion, and a generous amount of salt. Throughout the day f.a.n.n.y spoon-fed him the broth. Chamomile tea was another of the liquids that Mama had the captain drink, and in the evenings she gave him a gla.s.s of sweetened and watered-down wine to help him rest. After a few days he was asking for bits of chicken, but Mama refused him. Instead, she mashed and stirred cooked carrots into the broth and promised that soon he could have the chicken. When that day came, f.a.n.n.y carried back his empty bowl, as proud as if she had eaten it herself, and Mama breathed a deep sigh of relief. "He comin' back," she said. with one of the twins, and while they held the lantern, she killed a chicken. Then she brought it to the kitchen, cleaned the bird, and simmered it with a large handful of fresh green parsley from the garden, cloves of garlic, onion, and a generous amount of salt. Throughout the day f.a.n.n.y spoon-fed him the broth. Chamomile tea was another of the liquids that Mama had the captain drink, and in the evenings she gave him a gla.s.s of sweetened and watered-down wine to help him rest. After a few days he was asking for bits of chicken, but Mama refused him. Instead, she mashed and stirred cooked carrots into the broth and promised that soon he could have the chicken. When that day came, f.a.n.n.y carried back his empty bowl, as proud as if she had eaten it herself, and Mama breathed a deep sigh of relief. "He comin' back," she said.

Uncle Jacob did not leave the captain's side but slept on a floor pallet at night. It was through his intervention that Belle was able to visit with her father when the mistress was asleep in her own bedroom.

On her first visit, the captain told Belle that her young man from Philadelphia would not be coming for her after all. He told her how, on their arrival, yellow fever was just beginning to take hold, and when the disease was later determined to be contagious, thousands of terrified citizens fled. Over that summer, even the president, George Was.h.i.+ngton, left the city, and the government was shut down. The captain spoke of Miss Martha's struggle, how she nursed first her father, then Dory, and finally, himself. He failed to mention Campbell, and when Belle asked about him, the captain hesitated but then seemed relieved to confide in someone.

"After Dory died," he said, "Martha was overcome with fear, certain I would die, too. I was too ill to help, but I knew that Martha wasn't herself. The baby cried for days. One morning when I no longer heard his cry, I insisted that she bring him to me. But he was already gone." He took a deep breath. "Thank G.o.d, help arrived. Your young man was one in a community of free black people who helped us. At first it was thought that Negroes couldn't contract yellow fever, but after Dory died, we knew otherwise. There was little food, and farmers wouldn't come into the city markets, but when your young man came, he brought us food and took away... He proved again and again to be the man I thought he was. He would have been a good husband, Belle. I would have been proud to have you marry him. But he, too, died of the disease..." The captain's voice shook. "We visited h.e.l.l, and now I fear for Martha." couldn't contract yellow fever, but after Dory died, we knew otherwise. There was little food, and farmers wouldn't come into the city markets, but when your young man came, he brought us food and took away... He proved again and again to be the man I thought he was. He would have been a good husband, Belle. I would have been proud to have you marry him. But he, too, died of the disease..." The captain's voice shook. "We visited h.e.l.l, and now I fear for Martha."

As did everyone. Her behavior had no meaning. She wandered from room to room, moving furniture and household articles from place to place. Mama took me to her, thinking I might bring her what I once had, but the vacant look in her eyes frightened me, and she did not react to me as Mama had hoped. Once again the doctor made his appearance and prescribed doses of laudanum. If the truth be told, we were all relieved to see her take the medication that helped her to sleep.

IN THE FOLLOWING DAYS, BELLE, believing that she might now remain here, was almost giddy with relief. Taking her lead, I, too, began to hope again that my future here was secure. I did, however, intend to go to Philadelphia when I was older. My child's heart would not accept the loss of Campbell; I convinced myself that a mistake had been made. Certain that he was alive and being cared for by loving people, I resolved one day to find him. I had never forgotten my brother and now decided that when I was old enough, I would be reunited with both Cardigan and Campbell. believing that she might now remain here, was almost giddy with relief. Taking her lead, I, too, began to hope again that my future here was secure. I did, however, intend to go to Philadelphia when I was older. My child's heart would not accept the loss of Campbell; I convinced myself that a mistake had been made. Certain that he was alive and being cared for by loving people, I resolved one day to find him. I had never forgotten my brother and now decided that when I was old enough, I would be reunited with both Cardigan and Campbell.

Sukey's need no doubt saved me. She continued to share my pallet; hers was the first face I saw in the morning and the last I saw before I slept. She relied on me more than ever, and her first spoken word was Binny, her version of my name. I slept at night with Sukey clutched next to me, determined never to lose her.

MAMA SENT B BEATTIE FOR ME the cold December morning of hog-killing day. The squeal of the dying pigs had affected Miss Martha in a way that had her asking for Isabelle. Beattie and Sukey came the cold December morning of hog-killing day. The squeal of the dying pigs had affected Miss Martha in a way that had her asking for Isabelle. Beattie and Sukey came with me and stayed behind in the blue room while I went in to see the mistress. When I entered the bedroom, Miss Martha appeared more lucid than before but, on seeing me, insisted that I bring the baby to her. I was at a loss until I heard Sukey's giggle from the blue room. I had a sudden thought and looked to Mama. She read my intention and nodded, so I left and returned with Sukey. Miss Martha reached for the baby as though she were the very babe she'd asked for. Sukey, an outgoing child, was unafraid and readily went into the arms of the lost woman. The child sat back on the bed to study the surroundings, and when Miss Martha tickled her tummy, she giggled and clasped her fat little hands over Miss Martha's. When Sukey caught sight of the Williamsburg moppet poised on the dresser next to the bed, Miss Martha had me get it for her. Sukey took the doll and inspected it carefully, gingerly fingering its finery. That day Miss Martha watched the baby play with the doll until they both fell asleep. with me and stayed behind in the blue room while I went in to see the mistress. When I entered the bedroom, Miss Martha appeared more lucid than before but, on seeing me, insisted that I bring the baby to her. I was at a loss until I heard Sukey's giggle from the blue room. I had a sudden thought and looked to Mama. She read my intention and nodded, so I left and returned with Sukey. Miss Martha reached for the baby as though she were the very babe she'd asked for. Sukey, an outgoing child, was unafraid and readily went into the arms of the lost woman. The child sat back on the bed to study the surroundings, and when Miss Martha tickled her tummy, she giggled and clasped her fat little hands over Miss Martha's. When Sukey caught sight of the Williamsburg moppet poised on the dresser next to the bed, Miss Martha had me get it for her. Sukey took the doll and inspected it carefully, gingerly fingering its finery. That day Miss Martha watched the baby play with the doll until they both fell asleep.

Following that visit, Miss Martha asked for the baby almost daily. When Sukey came, antic.i.p.ating play with the beloved moppet, Miss Martha held open her arms and was always satisfied when Sukey willingly obliged her.

THERE WAS INCREASING DISCORD DOWN in the quarters. With the captain home, Will Stephens had returned to his father's farm. Rankin, puffed up with power, was back in control. According to Ida, Rankin used her son to vent his frustrations, and Jimmy, fueled by his loss of Dory, threatened to fight back. Ida feared for his life, and in desperation, she asked Papa George to appeal to the captain. in the quarters. With the captain home, Will Stephens had returned to his father's farm. Rankin, puffed up with power, was back in control. According to Ida, Rankin used her son to vent his frustrations, and Jimmy, fueled by his loss of Dory, threatened to fight back. Ida feared for his life, and in desperation, she asked Papa George to appeal to the captain.

Beattie and I were polis.h.i.+ng the furniture on the upstairs landing when Papa George entered the captain's bedroom. He left the door ajar, so when Rankin followed soon after, we saw him listen, unnoticed, outside the bedroom door. When Papa made his case for Jimmy, the captain refused him. Rankin, Papa was reminded, had been on the plantation for the past five years, and although the captain knew that he was a tough taskmaster, the plantation was doing well. The captain said that until he was in better health, he must support Rankin in his decisions. doing well. The captain said that until he was in better health, he must support Rankin in his decisions.

When Papa emerged, he looked startled to find Rankin in the hallway. Rankin, unseen by the captain, stretched his foot across the doorway, forcing Papa to step over it. I wondered why Papa didn't pick up the smaller man and heave him to the side; instead, Papa nodded to him. I noted, though, Papa's stiff gait and how he clenched his fists as he walked away.

AT C CHRISTMAS THE CAPTAIN, STILL not strong enough to go down to the quarters for the celebration, sent Papa and Ben with a barrel of apples, three large hams, and four jugs of brandy. We learned later through Ida that Rankin had sold two of the hams and kept two of the jugs of brandy for himself. There was growing discontent among the workers, as Rankin was again taking half the daily food rations and trading the corn and fatback for liquor for himself. The people were hungry, she said. not strong enough to go down to the quarters for the celebration, sent Papa and Ben with a barrel of apples, three large hams, and four jugs of brandy. We learned later through Ida that Rankin had sold two of the hams and kept two of the jugs of brandy for himself. There was growing discontent among the workers, as Rankin was again taking half the daily food rations and trading the corn and fatback for liquor for himself. The people were hungry, she said.

Ben confirmed the grim conditions in the quarters. Although he was able to provide food for Lucy, he wasn't able to keep her from the hard labor in the fields.

New sections of land were being cleared for tobacco growing, and the women as well as the men took part in the demanding physical labor. Rankin was becoming increasingly bold and dangerous, and no one dared speak up.

Ben had distanced himself from his family and most especially from Belle. At night he took his food from Mama's house and ate alone, or he waited in his shed for Lucy to come back up from the quarters.

Mama tried without much success to befriend Ben's wife. I knew even then how foreign and privileged our lives must have been in contrast to her own. On Christmas Day Lucy came to Mama's house with Ben, but she stood shyly at the door, refusing a seat. Ben grew frustrated and spoke angrily to her, and with that, she ran back to their shed. Ben silently ate his meal before he went back with Christmas dinner Mama sent for his wife.

Mama Mae said Lucy had always been shy. Mama knew Lucy's background and told us how, at Sukey's tender age, Lucy had been taken from her mother and brought to this plantation. She was given to the old woman who cared for the many children of the quarters. The old woman was not unkind, Mama said, but she had too many children to properly care for them.

"Lucy get took from her mama too soon," Mama Mae said. "You don't take animals away that young."

"Give her time," Papa said, "she come 'round."

FOR THE REST OF THAT winter, the captain's health remained unstable. As soon as he made progress, he pushed himself to exhaustion that sent him back to bed. Then, in spite of Mama's protests, the doctor came again to bleed and purge his patient. During those bouts, the captain was irritable and demanding, but Belle, with her nightly visits, and f.a.n.n.y, with her cheerful wit, were the two who settled him. winter, the captain's health remained unstable. As soon as he made progress, he pushed himself to exhaustion that sent him back to bed. Then, in spite of Mama's protests, the doctor came again to bleed and purge his patient. During those bouts, the captain was irritable and demanding, but Belle, with her nightly visits, and f.a.n.n.y, with her cheerful wit, were the two who settled him.

For the most part, Miss Martha remained in her bedroom. Once, though, Uncle Jacob found her wandering at night, trying to unlock the gun case. She told Uncle Jacob that she was going to shoot the wh.o.r.e, but Uncle convinced her to return to her bed. From then on, Beattie slept in the blue room.