The Kitchen House Part 34

Beattie look up the stairs. "I goin' up to see Miss Martha."

"She's gone," I say.

"That's what Uncle say. I go see for myself," say Beattie.

Ben and me head out, same way we come. We go up and 'round the big-house cemetery, then down past the apple and peach trees, until we head past the quarters. It's plenty dark, but we both know this land so good, we know just where to go. Ben's the first to hear the horses, then we both hear the talk. We get down low.

"Uhhh!" Ben says.

"Shh," I whisper, but I raise up to look at what he sees.

There they is, all tied together, Rankin and two men sitting up on horses, pus.h.i.+ng everybody on. Everbody. Mama, Papa ... then I see Jamie! He's tied up, too. They're heading them all to the quarters.

"You see Marshall?" I ask Ben.

"No. He's prob'ly still out lookin' for Abinia."

"What're we gonna do?"

"We got to go back to the big house, catch Beattie," Ben says.

"What's she gonna do?" I ask.

"I don't know, but we got to think of somethin'," Ben says, and grabs my arm.

By the time we get into the house, Beattie's coming down the steps, carrying the lamp from Miss Martha's room. She almost drops it when she sees us. "What you two doin', scarin' me like that?" she says.

"Shh," Ben says, "put out that light. Rankin back, and they got everybody."

"Papa, Mama-" I say.

"No!" Beattie says. Then she sit right down on the steps and starts to cry. "Marshall says he catch 'em, he sell 'em all, even Papa."

Ben says, "Beattie, there no time for cryin'."

"But they all gonna get sold!" She cryin' hard. "Mama, Papa-"

"Stop cryin' and put out that light!" Ben says. "We got to think of somethin' to do."

Beattie tries to work the lamp, but she's shaking so bad Ben grabs it from her. Between them both, they drop the light. The fire catches the tablecloth, and we all got to stomp on it to put it out. Then Ben gets the idea.

"Beattie," he says, "tonight you gonna get a house fire goin' up here." Beattie and me look at Ben like he's gone in the head. But he keeps talking. "When everybody up here puttin' out the fire, I cut everybody loose. This time they cross over the river by the smokehouse and head up that way. It hard, but it give 'em a better chance, 'cause Papa know the way."

"How I s'posed to get a fire burnin'?" Beattie ask.

"It burn easy," Ben say. "Belle and me get it set up for you. Then we go down other side of the quarters and we watch from the trees. All you got to do is wait till everythin' is settled, then if anybody around, you say you got to check on Miss Martha, get up here, and start the fire. Get it goin' real good and get out. When they see the fire, Rankin and the men get up here to put it out. When they doin' that, we cut everybody loose. You get your boys and run with everybody."

"Oh, Ben! You sure 'bout this?" Beattie say.

"What else we gonna do?" Ben say.

"Belle?" Beattie ask.

"We got to do something," I say.

IT SEEMS ALL NIGHT THAT Ben and me is waiting in the trees, watching. Ben starts breathing hard when we see the fire going up at the big house. Beattie get it going real good, but the trouble is, Marshall's still out looking for Lavinia, and Rankin don't see nothing because he's off getting drunk. The fire's coming out the windows by the time Rankin gets there, and he's so drunk his thinking ain't good. First he runs up to see for himself, then he Ben and me is waiting in the trees, watching. Ben starts breathing hard when we see the fire going up at the big house. Beattie get it going real good, but the trouble is, Marshall's still out looking for Lavinia, and Rankin don't see nothing because he's off getting drunk. The fire's coming out the windows by the time Rankin gets there, and he's so drunk his thinking ain't good. First he runs up to see for himself, then he starts calling for his men to carry up water. Ben and me, we don't wait no more. Ben goes to the quarters to cut the ropes, and I go to help Beattie with her boys. But Beattie's standing outside her kitchen door, crying. She's saying she don't know where Uncle got to. The fire's whoos.h.i.+n' and howlin', and I grab Beattie, tell her to get her boys and come on, there's no time, everybody's waiting on her. But she just keeps crying, worrying that Uncle's in the big house. The fire's turning everything bright as day, and all I'm thinking is, We got to get out of here, so I hit Beattie and tell her to get her boys now! starts calling for his men to carry up water. Ben and me, we don't wait no more. Ben goes to the quarters to cut the ropes, and I go to help Beattie with her boys. But Beattie's standing outside her kitchen door, crying. She's saying she don't know where Uncle got to. The fire's whoos.h.i.+n' and howlin', and I grab Beattie, tell her to get her boys and come on, there's no time, everybody's waiting on her. But she just keeps crying, worrying that Uncle's in the big house. The fire's turning everything bright as day, and all I'm thinking is, We got to get out of here, so I hit Beattie and tell her to get her boys now!

When we get down to the quarters, Ben got everybody loose, and they're getting ready to go, but Mama's making a fuss. She says she won't go. She says everybody gets caught the first time because she can't run good, so she's staying, and that be that. Then Papa says if Mama stays, he stays, too, but Mama gets mad and says he got to go.

Ben says, "Papa, you got to take them out, show them the way. They needin' you for that."

So Papa says he'll get them on the way, then he's coming back for Mama.

Mama say, "George. You go, stay, help Beattie and her boys. I gonna be fine here." But we all know that Papa's bound to come back.

The big house fire is wild, and it looks like my Jamie is thinking of going up. I go to him quick. "Jamie. Miss Martha, she's gone," I say.

"What do you mean she's gone? How do you know?"

"I see her. She's dead," I say. "She takes too many drops. She's dead before the fire gets going. She's gone, Jamie."

"Marshall did this! He killed her! It's all because of him!"

"Come," I say, pus.h.i.+ng him off. "You go with the others. After you get away, you write me. I'll send you money; you get your free papers."

"Come on!" Ben say. "We got to go!"

f.a.n.n.y's crying, Beattie's crying, Papa's crying.

Ben says, "Each a you! Stop cryin'! Take the lil ones up and get goin'!"

f.a.n.n.y takes up one of Beattie's boys, Eddy takes up another. Jamie looks at me like he asking me what to do. He's tall as me, but the way he looks at me now, he's still my baby boy. "You go," I say. "Quick, with the others. You write to me, I'll send you money."

Ben says, "Come on!" He pulls at Papa, and once he gets Papa going, everybody takes off running.

After they're gone, Mama just sits. The sky is red, and the roaring coming from the big house sounds like a storm. I tell Mama to come with me back to Will Stephens's, but she says she going up to her own place to wait for Marshall there. She's looking too sick to get there by herself, so I take her, but she don't even make it to the kitchen house before she got to sit down again. She says that her chest's heavy on her, and I see that her breathing ain't right. She keeps telling me to get out of here, that she's gonna be fine.

"We'll just sit here, Mama, here in the gra.s.s, until you feel better." We sit, and she don't say nothing. I put my arms around her and hold her up while she closes her eyes. When I get her going again, she only makes it as far as the kitchen house. By then the big house fire's shooting up all over the place, and the roof is going in.

"You think it come down here, burn this kitchen house?" I ask Mama.

"No," she says, "this place built far enough away so a fire start down here, it don't set fire to the big house."

I get Mama sitting down, and she tells me again that I got to leave. I know she's right. I give her a hug, say to hold on until I come with Will Stephens to get her. I'm heading out the door when Mama calls me back. She's taking off her head rag and pulling out pearls from her hair. I know them from the big house. They're Miss Martha's! Mama wraps them tight in her head rag and pushes it in my pocket. "You get this to the others," she says.

I go to leave, but I hear Mama talking to herself. "My head feel cold," she says, patting at her ears and looking lost as a little girl.

I take off my own dirty green head scarf and wrap it around her head, then I kiss her and say, "You stay right here, Mama. I'm coming back for you." head, then I kiss her and say, "You stay right here, Mama. I'm coming back for you."

I know I got to go. At the back of my neck, I can feel that something bad's gonna happen. I turn to the kitchen door standing open, and there I see him. His face is so black from the fire, I don't hardly know who he is, but when he says my name, everything in me goes soft and my mind stops working. Next thing I know, Rankin's pulling me up the hill, where Marshall's waiting, rope in his hand, saying I'm gonna hang for setting fire to his house.

They're about to tie my hands when up the hill comes Mama. She's yelling at Marshall that he better stop, and he better stop right now! She's talking to Marshall like he's a child, and sure enough, he stops and listens to what Mama's saying. She's puffing real hard by the time she gets to us, but she knows what Marshall's got in mind, and she comes right on over to pull me away.

"Marshall! What you think you doin'?" Mama says. "You don't think you do enough already?"

Marshall comes to grab at me. I jump behind Mama. He's got the rope in his hands, but Mama stays standing there, looking straight at him.

"Masta Marshall," she says, "you gonna hurt the mama that takes care of you when you a lil boy?"

Marshall grabs for me again, but Mama gets in his way.

"Marshall," she says, "you stop this now! What you doin'! The debil have you? Ever since that time lil Sally die, I see how that temper of yours hurtin' people. You got to stop yourself! All this time you usin' my girls like they some animals down at the barn. You make all those babies, they white, they cullad, but you don't pay no mind. Your Elly, she a sister to Jamie, to Moses, to Beattie's boys-they all her brothers! Yes, they is! But they all gone. They all run from you. Abinia gone, lil Elly gone, even my Beattie go with her babies, runnin' from you. What you gonna do now?"

One more time Marshall reaches for me, and one more time Mama steps in the way.

"Marshall!" Mama say. "I say this enough! Now you wanna kill Belle? She your sista! You leave her alone! It time you know that she your sista. First you have the chil' with her, now you gonna kill her! You the debil himself, you kill your own sista!" Belle? She your sista! You leave her alone! It time you know that she your sista. First you have the chil' with her, now you gonna kill her! You the debil himself, you kill your own sista!"

Marshall stands real quiet. He looks at me funny. I can see this is the first time he hears that I'm his sister.

But Mama don't stop. "That's right, Marshall!" she say. "Belle your sista. Your daddy love this girl, but not the way you and Miss Martha think. I there when she born, and I know that Belle your daddy's chil'."

Now Marshall is fixed on Mama. She keeps talking.

"That's right, Marshall! You come at me! I the one who burn this house down. I the one hidin' Abinia. I the one who tell Beattie to go, I even know where they run to, but I don't tell you nothin'."

Marshall is yelling when he grabs at Mama. I try to pull her away when he starts putting the rope on her, but Rankin hits me from the back and I go down.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Lavinia

WE IN L LUCY'S CABIN KNEW nothing of what happened during that long night. Near dawn, Ben rushed in. His distressed words filtered through the ceiling boards. He was going for Will Stephens, he said. Lucy pleaded with him to stay, afraid for him to leave the property without a pa.s.s. He had to go, he argued. Marshall and Rankin had Belle. They were certain that she had knowledge of my whereabouts, and they were going to hang her if she was not forthcoming. nothing of what happened during that long night. Near dawn, Ben rushed in. His distressed words filtered through the ceiling boards. He was going for Will Stephens, he said. Lucy pleaded with him to stay, afraid for him to leave the property without a pa.s.s. He had to go, he argued. Marshall and Rankin had Belle. They were certain that she had knowledge of my whereabouts, and they were going to hang her if she was not forthcoming.

On hearing this, I could no longer hold back. I knew Belle would die before putting all of us in danger, and I knew Marshall would not hesitate to kill her. I became wild and pounded on the trapdoor until Ben opened it. He tried to quiet me, but I no longer could be reasoned with.

"Let me down!" I insisted. "Let me down!" I would have leaped to the floor had Ben not reached for me, and once on my feet, I began to run.

But Elly was not to be left behind. She, too, jumped into Ben's arms, following my lead. I shouted for her to go back, to stay with Ben, but she refused. I couldn't think of what to do, so I grabbed her hand and began to run again, staying to the path that ran along the wide stream. It seemed we had been running forever when I heard the whinny of horses ahead. I grabbed Elly and pulled her with me into the shrubs, where I signaled her silence. I heard horses approach and then a man's voice.

"Rankin," I breathed, then pushed both of us into the underbrush. We stayed down while they pa.s.sed a distance from us but close enough for me to see them and learn from their conversation that they were again looking for runaways. close enough for me to see them and learn from their conversation that they were again looking for runaways.

Where's Marshall? I wondered. Where's Belle? We were up and running again as soon as I thought it safe. I pulled Elly along, frustrated at her pace. Finally, she could go on no longer and began to resist me. She pulled back, and her hand slipped from mine. I might have stopped to reason with her, but as we grew closer to home, a strong smell of smoke began to permeate the air, and new fear fueled me. I raced ahead of her, oblivious to my child. My legs were numb, unused to this speed, and my lungs threatened to refuse their purpose. I forbade myself to think that I was too late and focused all my strength on moving toward home. Then I misjudged. Meaning to take a shortcut over the stream, I left the path and tried to dash through the trees, where, to my horror, I found myself trapped. I ripped and pulled to free my long skirts from the thorns of the blackberry brambles that snared me. As I tore my way out, Elly caught up to me again. She clung to my arm, sobbing and trying to hold me back. But a seven-year-old is no match for a grown woman, and in my frenzy, I pushed her onto the ground. She stared at me with unbelieving eyes.

"Stay there," I pleaded. I turned and ran again down the path until I reached the stream. I meant to cross over by stepping on the rocks in the shallow water, but it was a mistake to not remove my shoes. Halfway over, I slipped on the river stones and fell into the water with a splash. The cold water shocked me, and for a moment I sat stunned, water bubbling by, until I looked up and recognized our springhouse on the other side of the stream. The gray building reminded me of how close I was to home. I rose, my skirts soaked and heavy, and scrambled across the water by clinging to the jutting rocks.

At the base of our hill, I leaned forward to breathe, gasping for air. Somehow Elly had reached my side again, and this time she clung like a kitten to my wet skirts. I was terrified of what she might see ahead, but it was too late now, so I grasped her hand, and together we crested the hill. I froze. With a whimper, Elly dropped my hand as she sank to the ground. I moved forward slowly, as though in a dream. and together we crested the hill. I froze. With a whimper, Elly dropped my hand as she sank to the ground. I moved forward slowly, as though in a dream.

Our ma.s.sive old oak tree stood near the top of the hill, its lush green leaves shading the thick branch that bore the weight of a hanging body. My eyes refused to look up, but I had already recognized the handmade shoes pointing down. My chest ached. I leaned forward, salivating, retching. I must get to the house, I thought, stumbling ahead. I'll get a knife, I thought, I'll cut her down. She'll breathe again; she'll be all right.

But there was no house to enter. I stared in disbelief. Our home had dissolved; rubble and smoke marked its base. I fought to make sense.

I heard a shout. Words sizzled through the August heat. It was Jamie's voice. "You killed her! You killed her!"

I dared to look again at the tree. Marshall stood beside it. Jamie walked toward him with long purposeful strides, a young man stepping as an adult. He carried a shotgun. Flies buzzed and a dog whined.

Marshall looked my way. "Lavinia." He waved and called as though pleased to see me.

Jamie aimed the gun at Marshall. "Father!" He shouted the word. "Father!"

Marshall turned to face him. The gun blasted, and Marshall flew back, bits of him scattering like seeds from a dandelion head. I couldn't control my screams as I rushed forward. I pulled the gun from Jamie. "Run," I cried, "run."

I waited and stared but could not approach the tree. Wails of anguish signaled that others were coming up the hill. I turned to face them, pleading for someone to get the wagon, for someone to get Mama down. Then I sank onto the hot dry gra.s.s.

The wagon came clanking over the rocks. Lodo, our mule, balked at the scent of death, but the sharp smack of Eddy's whip pushed him forward. Finally, the mule stood under the oak, s.h.i.+vering and s.h.i.+ning in the heat, the cart behind him.

"Be careful," I begged, not daring to watch, but before I heard the thud, I looked up to see the bright green of Belle's head rag fall into the wagon. As Lodo began his descent, Papa's anguished cries pierced the very soul of our hill.

I WAS TAKEN TO JAIL WAS TAKEN TO JAIL when I insisted that I shot Marshall. The first day, filled with anguish, all I could do was pace. I could not get the terrible image of Mama out of my mind. I refused to see anyone until the second day, when I was told that Will Stephens had come on a matter that concerned my daughter. when I insisted that I shot Marshall. The first day, filled with anguish, all I could do was pace. I could not get the terrible image of Mama out of my mind. I refused to see anyone until the second day, when I was told that Will Stephens had come on a matter that concerned my daughter.

It had been years since I had last seen Will. Now his worried eyes betrayed his calm manner. He sat opposite me.

"I thought you would want to know that Elly is taken care of," he said. "She is with f.a.n.n.y in Belle's house. I had her taken to my house, but she carried on so that I took her down to Belle, thinking that might give her some comfort. Belle, though, is not herself, and Ben suggested that we bring f.a.n.n.y in. That helped. Elly has settled."

I nodded.

"Lavinia," he said, his voice low. "You must speak up for yourself. We both know the truth."

"It was all my fault! It was all my fault!" I said. Will attempted to reason with me, but I began to rant. Even to myself, I made little sense.

"I have sent for Mr. Madden," Will said before he left.

WILL RETURNED WITH B BELLE THE following day, and he left as we fell into each other's arms. In her awful despair Belle needed to talk. I listened as she choked out her story. following day, and he left as we fell into each other's arms. In her awful despair Belle needed to talk. I listened as she choked out her story.

Belle, in Rankin's grip, was made a witness to Mama Mae's murder. When Belle was released, she stumbled down to the kitchen house. Perhaps even Marshall was sated by her despair, for he did not pursue her. No one knew why Marshall stayed back on the hill when Rankin rode out to pursue Papa George and the others.

A few hours into the escape, the fugitives began to have doubts.