The Kitchen House Part 14

THE SPRING OF 1794 WAS cold and wet. Some of the workers from the quarters were ill with cough and fever, but Rankin insisted they were well enough to set out tobacco plants. Papa George said they were sick because they were close to starving. When our family sat down to the evening meal, it was difficult to enjoy the simple but plentiful food, knowing of the hunger such a short distance away. cold and wet. Some of the workers from the quarters were ill with cough and fever, but Rankin insisted they were well enough to set out tobacco plants. Papa George said they were sick because they were close to starving. When our family sat down to the evening meal, it was difficult to enjoy the simple but plentiful food, knowing of the hunger such a short distance away.

There was a cold steady drizzle the morning Ida ran up from the quarters to pound on the kitchen door. She stayed outside, shaking, unable to speak until Belle pulled her in from the rain and threw a blanket around her trembling shoulders. When Ida finally spoke, it was difficult to understand her through her chattering teeth.

During a storm the night before, her oldest boy, Jimmy, and his younger brother, Eddy, had broken into the smokehouse for food. "Just a sc.r.a.p," she said, "for the lil ones." They waited for a flash of lightning to see the nails, then pried off the boards while thunder buffered the noise. After taking only one small piece of fatback, they reversed their entry and worked again with nature to replace the smokehouse boards.

They thought that Rankin was sleeping, but he smelled the boiling meat. When he burst into their cabin, he pulled Jimmy out and tied him to a stake in the yard. Rankin beat him until Jimmy finally admitted that he had taken the meat. Rankin was jubilant, certain that Ben was also involved in the theft, but Jimmy insisted that he had acted alone. Rankin, in an effort to have Jimmy name Ben, continued to hit him. Ida said, "I go to stop him, but he say he start with the lil ones if I don't stay back. Even though they his babies, he say they just lil nigras and they nothin' to him." In her terrible impotence, Ida pounded at her own legs. "He beatin' my Jimmy now!"

Belle moved fast. "I'm going up to the big house, Ida. You stay here," she instructed, but Ida left again for the quarters as soon as Belle left. I don't know what Belle said, but I do know that the captain dressed and had Ben and Papa George accompany him down to the quarters.

Jimmy, still tied to the stake, was dead. Ida sat next to him, holding his head out of the mud and talking to her son as though he were still alive. Men and women from the quarters circled the mother, afraid to untie the young man's body.

Rankin, drunk, was in his cabin. The captain, enraged, had him removed and thrown onto his horse. He was told that he would be jailed should he return. Then the captain sent Ben to fetch Will Stephens.

THE CAPTAIN OFFERED W WILL STEPHENS a proposal. To the best of f.a.n.n.y's understanding (she was the only one of us present at the a proposal. To the best of f.a.n.n.y's understanding (she was the only one of us present at the meeting), Will Stephens was to act as the sole overseer for a period of five years. Each year he would earn fifty acres, and at the end of the agreed-upon time, he would be given his choice of four Negroes, two female, two male, to begin his own tobacco farm. Will Stephens accepted the offer, and because of it, we lived peacefully for the next two years. meeting), Will Stephens was to act as the sole overseer for a period of five years. Each year he would earn fifty acres, and at the end of the agreed-upon time, he would be given his choice of four Negroes, two female, two male, to begin his own tobacco farm. Will Stephens accepted the offer, and because of it, we lived peacefully for the next two years.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

1796

Belle

EVERY TIME WE THINK THE cap'n's getting better, he gets sick all over again. He goes up and down like this for almost two years. When the cap'n first tells me that the shoe man's gone from yellow fever, I want to jump up and dance, but I say real nice, "Do I still have to go to Philadelphia?" cap'n's getting better, he gets sick all over again. He goes up and down like this for almost two years. When the cap'n first tells me that the shoe man's gone from yellow fever, I want to jump up and dance, but I say real nice, "Do I still have to go to Philadelphia?"

"Yes. When I am well," the cap'n says. But in all this time, in the two years of him sick, he don't bring it up, and for sure I don't say nothing about it.

When Campbell don't come back, Lavinia takes over with Sukey like she's her own. You never see one without the other. One day Lavinia tells me to ask the cap'n about her brother, Cardigan, so I do. The cap'n don't know what happened to the boy after he sold him away, but he's thinking that maybe Cardigan got took up north.

He did remember that when Cardigan went off with the man, Lavinia screamed so bad that she hurt his ears. When I tell this to Lavinia, she starts to cry, so I tell her not to worry, that I'm always gonna take care of her. I say I know what it's like to be on your own.

THE ONLY PROBLEM I I GOT GOT is Ben's woman, Lucy, who don't like me. She's a big girl, shy with everybody, but always giving me the up and down. She knows that Ben still has his eye on me, and she knows that I got my eye on him. Truth is, I'm still wanting him like n.o.body else, but he jumped the broom with Lucy, and that be that. Least most days that's what I tell myself. is Ben's woman, Lucy, who don't like me. She's a big girl, shy with everybody, but always giving me the up and down. She knows that Ben still has his eye on me, and she knows that I got my eye on him. Truth is, I'm still wanting him like n.o.body else, but he jumped the broom with Lucy, and that be that. Least most days that's what I tell myself.

Will Stephens is running this place real good, and everybody's happy the way things are going. When Will Stephens looks at me, I know he likes what he sees. Me, too. He's a good-looking man. Not like Benny, oh no, but he's all man just the same. We talk, laugh, and sometimes with Mama and Papa, we sit out at night. When I'm talking and laughing with Will, it makes Ben real mad. One day Ben shows up when I'm feeding the chickens. "What you doin' with that man?" he asks.

"What you doing with Lucy?" I say. Ben's eyes get so hot I laugh, then walk away, moving slow so he can see what he's missing.

Two years we go on this way. The thing is, the more time goes on, the better it is for me. I'm already twenty-three years old, and soon I'll be getting too old for the captain to find me a husband.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

1796

Lavinia

IN M MAY 1796 THE TWINS and I celebrated our twelfth birthday. We were given an afternoon free of ch.o.r.es and skipped away with glee, carrying between us the picnic basket that Belle had prepared. We chattered nonstop along the way until we reached the woods, where f.a.n.n.y determined we would eat. She was the tallest of us and always famished. Quick-witted, f.a.n.n.y was as plain-looking as she was plain-speaking, and she often needed reminding to attend to her appearance. Of a sharp nature, she observed out loud what most dared not think, and there were times her unsolicited remarks caused shocked silence, only to be followed by uproarious laughter. and I celebrated our twelfth birthday. We were given an afternoon free of ch.o.r.es and skipped away with glee, carrying between us the picnic basket that Belle had prepared. We chattered nonstop along the way until we reached the woods, where f.a.n.n.y determined we would eat. She was the tallest of us and always famished. Quick-witted, f.a.n.n.y was as plain-looking as she was plain-speaking, and she often needed reminding to attend to her appearance. Of a sharp nature, she observed out loud what most dared not think, and there were times her unsolicited remarks caused shocked silence, only to be followed by uproarious laughter.

Unlike her twin, Beattie seemed destined to be a beauty. She was soft-spoken and kind, and when she smiled, her deep facial dimples appeared as though to punctuate her easy disposition. Beattie was clean and careful in her dress, and she loved pretty things. Sewing and embroidery were her pa.s.sions, and her clothes always had adornment. Nothing excited Beattie more than taking the sc.r.a.ps of discarded fabric Mama brought from the big house and fas.h.i.+oning the colorful cloth onto her clothing as collars and pockets.

I stood between the twins in size. I was slight and thin but not as tall as f.a.n.n.y. I suspected I was rather plain, although no one told me so. My fire-red hair was darkening to auburn, and I wore it in long braids. f.a.n.n.y teased me about the freckles spattered across my nose until Mama put a stop to that.

With the security of the past two years, I had become more sure of myself and was certainly more outgoing. Yet an underlying anxiety always stayed with me. As a result, I was careful to please and quick to obey.

Our days were filled with ch.o.r.es. f.a.n.n.y helped out with the captain, while Beattie and I either worked with Belle in the kitchen or helped Mama up in the big house.

My ch.o.r.es in the early morning included helping Mama with Miss Martha's personal care. Since Philadelphia, Miss Martha did not live in reality, but doses of laudanam kept her subdued, and I no longer feared her as I had on her return. In fact, I welcomed the times I sat with her to read aloud or card wool as she rested. In the late afternoon, if Miss Martha's mood suited, I brought Sukey for a visit, for she elicited a vivid response. Miss Martha always brightened when she saw the child. As Sukey cuddled close, the woman would read to her from a child's picture book. In an odd singsong voice, she repeated the verses over and over until they both slept.

One afternoon Mama Mae glanced in to see them both asleep. "That the only good rest that woman get," Mama whispered to me, "but you never leave them alone together."

The captain couldn't seem to recover his health. In earlier days he had been able to walk outdoors, but those excursions ceased as an increasing lethargy overtook him. f.a.n.n.y and Uncle Jacob continued to care for him, but f.a.n.n.y was his bright spot. The captain taught her to play card games, and on her winning days, she was rewarded with coins that she proudly gave to her mother for safekeeping.

I can only imagine how Belle's nightly visits cheered her father. She took books from the big-house library and read to him, often late into the night. I awoke one such night to hear Belle's voice coming up from the kitchen. Careful not to disturb Sukey, I crept downstairs to find Belle at the table, studying opened books in the dim lamplight. She explained how she was going over the following night's reading. Unfamiliar with some of the words, she found them in a two-volume dictionary, then sounded them out to herself as her grandmother had taught her to do. After that, on my request, she included me, and together we furthered our reading skills. herself as her grandmother had taught her to do. After that, on my request, she included me, and together we furthered our reading skills.

THAT DAY IN M MAY, DURING our twelfth birthday picnic, f.a.n.n.y's and Beattie's and my talk turned to the church event on the upcoming weekend. A sacrament service was planned, which meant a whole day away from home, where attention would be given not only to prayer and sermon but to food and socializing. The three of us spoke glowingly of Will Stephens, whom we had to thank for all this. our twelfth birthday picnic, f.a.n.n.y's and Beattie's and my talk turned to the church event on the upcoming weekend. A sacrament service was planned, which meant a whole day away from home, where attention would be given not only to prayer and sermon but to food and socializing. The three of us spoke glowingly of Will Stephens, whom we had to thank for all this.

By making some humane changes, Will Stephens had won the goodwill of the people in the quarters. Under his supervision, the plantation not only thrived but had exceeded production of past years. Food allowances were increased, and salt was added as a staple. Sat.u.r.day afternoons and Sundays became free time: a time for people in the quarters to work in their gardens, hunt or fish, wash clothes, and visit. They also were given the choice of going to church on Sunday.

Will Stephens had been raised to go to church, and every Sunday he hitched up a wagon inviting as many to ride as could, while others walked the hour's distance. I was beyond envy the first Sunday when I discovered that Beattie and f.a.n.n.y, accompanied by Ben and Lucy, had been given permission to go with the group from the quarters.

"But why," I cried to Belle, "why can't I go?"

"You don't belong with them," Belle tried to explain.

I still wonder at the fuss I must have raised that caused Will to intervene and speak to Belle on my behalf. But he did, and I couldn't believe my ears when I heard him say that if I could go, he would look out for me. "Why don't you come, too?" he asked Belle. "You could ride in the wagon."

"Thank you," she said, "but I got to stay here to do the cooking."

And so we rode off, the twins and I, that first Sunday morning. I was so happy to go that I did not question why I sat up front next to Will Stephens while the girls rode in the back of the wagon.

The church was rustic, a large log building with rough-hewn benches. It was in that house of wors.h.i.+p that I first was made aware of the clear distinction that was made between the races. The white members were seated at the front, while in the back of the building, standing room was reserved for the black servants.

I looked back for the twins when Will tucked my hand in the fold of his arm and led me to a pew. Beattie saw me first and hid a shy smile, but when f.a.n.n.y saw me, she waved openly, causing Ben to pull her arm down. I paused, wanting to return to them, but Ben gave a nod for me to continue on with Will. Throughout the service, I felt the separation and wondered if Belle had come, would she have been able to sit with Will and me. After the service, although other families stayed to socialize, our group left, excited to return home to share the experience with the others who had not come.

Sunday services became routine. I was given permission to go with the twins and Will each time they went. I stopped wanting Belle to join us when I began to develop a liking for Will Stephens that soon, on my part, developed into young love. Will, likely aware of my infatuation, was teasing and playful with me. He called me solemn and seemed to take delight when he was able to make me smile. As time went on, our Sunday rides to and from church gave us room for more intimate conversation, and eventually, he gained my trust. Then I became more talkative, and one day I asked him his age. Without hesitation, he informed me that he would be twenty-three years old this October.

"Do you have a girl?" I asked, and his smile was so warm I wanted to touch his arm, though of course I didn't.

"Why, no," he said. "Do you have anyone in mind?"

"How about Belle?" I asked anxiously.

He became serious. "She could never be my sweetheart," he said. Before I could ask why, he added, "We could never marry. You know that. It would be against the law."

I hadn't known that and didn't understand but didn't want to appear young and ignorant, so I said nothing.

"Do you have a beau?" he asked after a time.

"Ben used to be my beau, but he got married," I said.

"Oh." A smile curved his lips. "I could see why you would like Ben. He's a good man."

Suddenly, I felt bold. "You might want to wait for me," I said, "until I grow up. I could be your girl."

"Well!" he said. "Now there's an idea."

"I'm quite smart." I forged ahead. "And I know how to cook and read, and Sukey is wild about me."

"And who is Sukey?" he asked.

"She was Dory's baby, but when Dory died, Sukey wanted me to be her mother." I gave a sigh and crossed my hands in my lap.

"Aren't you a little young for that?" he asked.

"I'm twelve," I answered indignantly.

"Well, then, of course," he said.

"Belle says that I'll be a beauty one day." I looked to him for a reaction.

"I believe you already are," he said, and winked at me.

My face flamed, but I continued on, "Oh, and I know about raising chickens. I haven't killed one yet, but Mama says that day is coming soon." I shuddered, thinking of it.

Will squared his shoulders before speaking. "Let's see here," he said. "A beauty who can read and kill chickens. I think I might have to consider this proposal seriously."

"Are you teasing me?" I asked.

He flicked the reins and looked over at me with a beautiful smile. "Do I ever tease you?"

"All the time!" I said, and we laughed.

I suspected he thought of me as a child, but I didn't care. I was sure if I had anything to say on the matter, he would be my future husband.

"ABINIA, A ABINIA," F f.a.n.n.y CALLED ME back to our picnic, "what you thinkin' of?" back to our picnic, "what you thinkin' of?"

"Nothing," I said.

Beattie smiled at me. "You thinkin' about Will?"

"Maybe," I said, returning her smile.

"You know Marshall comin' home this week," f.a.n.n.y offered.

I rolled over on my stomach, recalling the forlorn image of the lost boy riding out in the carriage. "I wonder what he's like now."

"He only comin' for two weeks. Then he goin' back to study. The cap'n wantin' to see how he doin'," f.a.n.n.y said.

DURING OUR PICNIC THAT DAY, Marshall did indeed arrive. Marshall did indeed arrive.

"He so growed up, it hard to believe it the same boy," Mama told us. How right she was. Late in the afternoon, I was sent up to the big house to sit with Miss Martha while she slept. There, I was startled to find Marshall seated at a window in the mistress's room. Although forewarned, I scarcely recognized him. He rose when he saw me. Shy, I stood back. In his sixteenth year, he was already the height of a grown man.

"h.e.l.lo, Lavinia," he said. His childhood monotone voice had been replaced with a confident baritone.

"h.e.l.lo," I said quietly.

"You've grown," he said, looking me up and down, and for the first time ever, I was aware of my drab homespun clothes. In contrast, he wore navy knee breeches and a waistcoat made of ivory satin. On it was st.i.tched a pictorial scene of vivid colors, and I immediately thought of Beattie and how she would be captivated at the detail of the embroidery.

"Join me," he invited, setting a chair next to his at the window. Uncertain what to do, but seeing his mother asleep, I did as he asked. He positioned himself with a.s.surance, and I seated myself as I had been taught by Miss Martha, with my feet together and my hands folded in my lap.

Marshall had grown into a strikingly attractive young man. His short blond hair curled loosely at his neck, and his blue eyes, which in my memory had been dull, now shone when he smiled.

"I often remember you," he said, then drained a gla.s.s of wine. "You were the one who cared so for my baby brother." He gazed out the window. The sun was setting, and the light cast his face in gold. I could hardly believe that he was speaking to me in this way, and I could not take my eyes from him. "I understand that you are a great help to my mother," he said. out the window. The sun was setting, and the light cast his face in gold. I could hardly believe that he was speaking to me in this way, and I could not take my eyes from him. "I understand that you are a great help to my mother," he said.

"I read to her," I said, proud of the achievement.

"Do you like to read?" he asked.

"It's my favorite thing."

"I must speak to Father about you," he said. "I wonder what plans have been made."

I was spared an answer when Mama abruptly came into the room. She studied us for a moment before addressing Marshall. "You know the cap'n wantin' to see you."

Marshall flushed. He stood and, with a look of defiance, went to the blue room. There he stopped at the side table that held a wine decanter. From it he poured himself another gla.s.s of wine. He drank it in short order, then left the room.

Mama shook her head. "That boy drinkin' too much," she said.