Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (15 page)

“You have obviously got by on simple
unspeakable favors; however, they do not apply any longer. Do you
understand me!” Eugenia gritted her teeth.

Mammy winced with every word, but she nodded
in understanding. “Yes, Mrs. Arrington.”

“You stand and listen to me, girl.”

Mammy stood at full attention.

“You will speak only when spoken to; you will
stand only when I say stand; you will sit only when I say sit. You
will not eat, drink, sleep, walk, talk, or breathe without my
permission. You will not leave without my say-so; you may not speak
to or look at the other slaves unless I agree; you will not
converse with Amelia. You will not allow your child, legitimate or
otherwise, to step foot in this mansion and… if I see you touch
anything without permission, break anything, or take even so much
as a piece of yarn from this plantation, I will have you whipped
and beaten beyond recognition!”

True to Mammy’s promise, she did everything
Eugenia asked. The torment was relentless. Mammy cleaned every inch
of Eugenia and Daddy’s bedroom, scrubbing the floors until her
hands bled and her small knees were swollen to twice their size.
Then she spent the weeks ahead scrubbing the entire mansion from
top to bottom, without a word of complaint.

It was so difficult to watch, I cried myself
to sleep most every night. It was unfair to have Mammy humiliated
and tortured, just so Eugenia could have her revenge. Though Mammy
took the abuse, I couldn’t bear to stand by and not say
anything.

Eugenia was sitting reading a novel in the
library when I came in.

“Are you going to study with me this
evening?” she asked, without lifting her eyes from the page.

I took a quick gulp and spoke. My words came
flooding out, without thought of any repercussions.

“Why do you need to torture Mammy so? She has
done nothing to hurt you. Daddy loved her, and it’s not her fault.
You don’t need to be jealous of her. Daddy is gone, and…”

Eugenia stood and slammed the book onto the
side table, shaking the oil lamp to where it nearly fell.

“How dare you speak to me that way! You get
to your room and stay there until I say you can come out!”

“I will not,” I said, folding my hands over
my chest in defiance.

“Fine then, stand there all night. And for
every minute you stand there and defy me, I will have one whip laid
onto your beloved mammy’s back,” she said with a smug,
self-satisfied smile.

I gasped in horror, and Eugenia smiled even
wider.

“Now I suppose you will be getting to your
rooms and staying there until I tell you to come out?”

I nodded and hurried upstairs while she
yelled for me to get my Bible out, get on my knees, and beg to be
forgiven for being such a disobedient, wicked child.

Mammy was in the hall before my doors
scrubbing the floor when I came running up.

She rose and extended her arms for me to fall
into.

“It’s gonna be all right, Miss Amelia. You
just do as you told, and no trouble will come,” she whispered and
kissed my forehead.

“Oh, Mammy, why did Daddy allow all this to
happen?”

“Your daddy made some mistakes. Been blinded
by the devil. Ain’t his fault. Remember that, sweet Amelia. You
never stop loving him, no matter what.”

“I have stopped loving him. He has done so
many wrongs.”

“Now you stop talking that way. Things will
be fine, wait and see.” She opened the door for me to hurry
inside.

It was just like Mammy to say and do anything
to make me feel better, even lie to protect me from more
sorrow.

“Will you come tuck me in?” I asked, hopeful
that I could have a tender moment with her, like I used to.

“Miss Amelia, you getting too old for such
things. Go on now, get in,” she said and motioned for me to go.
“You sleep tight. Mammy will always love you, and your daddy loves
you too.”

When I was let out, I searched for Hattie,
keeping a close watch for Curtis P. Boyd, making sure I went
undetected as I stole out to the slave quarters.

The day was winding down, and the slaves were
preparing for their short night of rest. Little puffs of smoke came
from the chimneys of the cabins; the air was redolent with the
smell of food cooking. Voices were carried along with the hot,
sticky breeze coming off the river. Hattie was outside on the small
porch bringing in the dried sheets off the line when I approached
from the side of the cabin.

“Amelia! What are you doing here?” she
asked.

“I came to see you and Jacob Thomas,” I said,
hurrying inside. Cordelia, Abraham, and Helen were in the cabin.
Jacob Thomas was sitting in a tin tub, getting his bath before bed.
He had grown so much I almost didn’t recognize him. He had turned
two already and was standing, walking, and laughing. His hair was
thick and curly, the same color as Hattie’s, though his skin was
much lighter, almost my color.

He giggled as Helen doused his dark curly
hair with the pitcher of water.

“Say water,” she instructed the toddler.

Jacob just laughed and splashed the water,
and we all laughed along with him.

“Jacob, say hello to Amelia,” Hattie said, as
she knelt down next to the tub. I came beside her, took the wash
cloth, and helped wash him.

Jacob looked up at me, gave a wide grin, and
splashed me with water, then laughed and laughed. That baby didn’t
have a care in the world. He wasn’t aware that he was the
illegitimate child of a plantation master, born a slave, destined
to be an outcast for the rest of his life. It was difficult enough
being a slave, I knew. Being born half white was worse. He would
never fit in. I sighed and tried to smile along with him, so he
wouldn’t sense my fretting.

“You know Jacob Thomas unites us, don’t you?”
I asked quietly, so the others wouldn’t hear.

She nodded and smiled. “Makes us real
family.”

“That it does,” I added. “Come walk with
me.”

No one minded us heading off deep into the
woods, finding our way to our favorite spot not far from the
failing Montgomery plantation, sitting down on the cool forest
ground to talk.

“You and Mammy won’t run away, will you?”

“Haven’t heard any talk of it from Momma. I
know some are planning to run off,” Hattie confessed. “Abraham,
Helen, they are all talking about it.

“And why hasn’t Mammy wanted to flee?”

Hattie didn’t answer me right away. Instead I
had to prod her, insisting she tell me.

Finally, she gave me the answer. “She and
Hamilton are married. Got married a few months back.”

“What!”

“And Hamilton won’t leave. He is mute, has no
chance anywhere else.”

“Mammy married Hamilton?”

“At first it was because Eugenia ordered them
to, believe it or not. Said Momma would be sold if she didn’t marry
him. At first Momma cried and cried over it, but now, I think she
has learned to love him. Says he reminds her of my real daddy a
little.”

Eugenia always found a way to punish Mammy
and no doubt hurt Daddy as well, when he came back and learned of
the news.

“Anyway, things will be all right. Sure, the
war will end soon, Master Arrington will return, and life here at
Sutton Hall will go on.”

“Well, when this war is over and Daddy
returns, since I am almost a fully-grown adult, I won’t be staying
here. I will find a husband, run away with him, and never return. I
will live happily ever after just like in the fairy tales,” I
insisted.

“Now that Mr. Montgomery is gone, who will
you marry?”

“I would never marry Perry Montgomery. I will
marry someone just as handsome and distinguished, as wealthy and
smart. However, my husband will be sent to me through the eyes of
God. We will be meant for one another; it will be moral and right,
and I will not die the same way my own mother did . . . as a
punishment for sleeping with a married man.

“From my mouth to Gods ears,” I said always
knowing he would soon send me my husband to save me - to whisk me
away from the horrible plantation and make me the happiest woman to
ever live.

~ ~ ~

In the summer months, the battles of the war
began. Blockades were formed and the South slowly began to feel the
true extent of the war. Letters from Daddy arrived occasionally,
only declaring he was well enough and hoped the war would end
sometime soon so he could return to his family. Eugenia became more
and more distraught as we lost slaves, just as Hattie
predicted.

After church services the wives all gathered,
usually at our plantation, to discuss the hardships, fears, and
hopes for a speedy return of their husbands - on their own accord,
of course, not stuffed in a pine box. With troubled economic times,
we all prayed together, and huddled together as the news came that
our men in uniform, fighting for the South, were dying. Eugenia
spent little time worrying about me, and I made myself scarce by
calling Hattie to come spend time with me. With the plantation
being neglected after so many slaves ran, Hattie had time to swim
in the river with me. We always brought Jacob Thomas along to play,
too.

For a brief time, I was able to free myself
of the chains that had once bound me: the worries of having Perry
Montgomery chasing after me, of Eugenia accusing me of being a
sinful and vile girl just like my mummy, and of Daddy scowling at
me for growing up before his eyes. All of that had changed in my
favor, and I sought to enjoy my newfound freedom.

Days passed, and the summer became one of the
hottest I could ever remember. It was all we could do to keep cool,
and we spent every waking moment we could at the river. As the
weeks passed, we taught Jacob Thomas some basic words. He was a
bright little boy. His eyes sparkled when Hattie brought him to the
river and we splashed together. I was thrilled when he was finally
able to say my name . . . well almost my name. He called me Meala.
I showered my little brother with kisses and warm affection all the
time. There was even a rare occasion when I brought him inside,
along with Hattie, and we all slept on the floor of my room.

We carried on for some time before Hattie
became ill and had to stay back at the cabins, along with
Jacob.

For the remainder of the summer, I found
myself swimming alone. I would take leisurely walks through the
woods to the swimming hole, hoping of course, not to be bothered
again by John Mason. His father, too, had gone off to war, and John
was now left to care for the plantation, along with the meager
number of slaves they still owned. So I didn’t expect to see him
anywhere near the swimming hole to bother me.

So self-assured was I that I skipped through
the forest each afternoon, singing to myself, never once expecting
to stumble upon another person; so I was stunned to find one day a
Confederate soldier lying half dead in the woods.

I gasped when I saw the man there, lying face
down, covered in blood. He was missing a shoe, his shirt was torn,
and his grey, ill-fitting trousers were caked with mud.

I stood frozen, uncertain what to do. I
didn’t know if he was dead. I didn’t want to touch him. I stayed
yards away and stared, trying to see if there was any life in him,
without getting too close. My heart beat like mad as I tried to
decide what to do. I saw him weakly lift his head and turn to look
my way. “Help me,” he groaned, straining to lift his hand.
“Please!”

I rushed over to him and knelt down and said
frantically, “I will get you help.”

As I sped through the woods and back to the
mansion, I couldn’t stop thinking of his platinum-blond hair and
his sea green eyes and the way he cried out for my help. I called
out for Hamilton, Curtis P. Boyd, anyone.

Eugenia appeared on the gallery, with Mammy
steps behind.

“What is it, Amelia?” Eugenia snapped.

Hamilton came around the corner.

“A Confederate soldier in the woods . . .
he’s wounded!” I rushed to explain. “Come quick.”

“Hamilton, go with her. Take Abigail with you
and see what this is about.”

“I saw him lying there . . . I wasn’t sure if
he was dead. He isn’t, but I think he will die any minute.” I was
frantic and out of breath. I stopped against a tree to catch my
breath, while Mammy waited with me.

“He’s a few yards away from the swimming
hole,” I said to Hamilton, and pointed in the right direction.

“Take some breaths, Miss Amelia. We don’t
need you passing out,” Mammy said.

“I’ve never seen anything so gruesome. There
was blood everywhere!”

“It’s gonna be all right. Stop frettin’
now.”

Hamilton came back with the man lying half
dead in his giant arms. Mammy rushed over and lifted his shirt to
see where all the blood was coming from.

“Been stabbed, lots of times,” she said. She
tore off her apron and tied it tightly around the man’s trunk.

“We have to hurry. Get him back to the big
house!”

Hamilton laid the man in the bedroom down the
hall from mine, and Mammy got right to work. Eugenia stood
overseeing the nursing, and I stood back in the far corner so I
wouldn’t be too close to all that blood. Mammy cleaned each one of
the half-dozen wounds with soap and a warm rag as the man winced in
agony. Hamilton held the man’s hands back so he would stop trying
to fight Mammy off in his delirium. Eugenia went through the
pockets of his uniform, looking to identify him, but there was
nothing with his name on it at all.

After she pulled every pocket open, she
leaned over him, and quietly asked, “What is your name?”

Mammy had just finished sewing him up, and
for some reason Eugenia thought he could speak. He was breathing
deeply, covered in sweat, and softly moaning from all the pain.