How could he think such a thing! Didn’t he
witness the years of scowls she threw my way and the punishments
she subjected me to? Wasn’t he aware how much she loathed me
because I looked and acted so much like my own mother, the young
woman who stole Daddy’s heart when he was already married and
trapped him with an illegitimate child.
“Daddy, you’re wrong.”
“Go to her, Amelia,” Daddy insisted.
Without further objection, I nodded and did
as he insisted. I wandered up the grand staircase, taking my time
with every step, dreading seeing her. I sensed it would go badly
and wished anyone but me could try and comfort her. But there was
no one else, so I mustered as much courage as I could and softly
rapped on her door.
“Eugenia it is me, Amelia. May I come
in?”
There was no answer.
I eased open the door and stepped inside the
room. A modest fire was burning in the fireplace, but the room
remained chilly and made me shiver. I rubbed my arms to warm them
up a little and went over to the bed where she lay still under the
covers, staring with a vacant gaze up at the ceiling. On her chest,
which slowly lowered and rose with each breath, were the
photographs of the girls.
I stepped up to the bed and looked down at
her. She didn’t acknowledge me. She didn’t bat an eye or look my
way. I took a shallow breath and smiled at her.
“Eugenia?”
“What is it?” she asked with no emotion.
“I’ve come to see if you need anything.
Aren’t you hungry? Can I get you a hot cup of tea?”
She blinked back her newly-formed tears a few
times and picked up the photographs and stared at them for the
longest time.
“I am sorry for your loss. They were just
innocent girls, and it’s so unfortunate. I will miss them as well,”
I said with great compassion and reached to hold her hand.
Instantly she slapped my hand away and sat
up. “Get out! I don’t want you near me! GET OUT!” she raged.
“But I was only trying to help,” I stuttered,
backing away.
“You are a vile, unworthy piece of trash. I
hate everything about you. You are nothing like my girls. They were
beautiful, smart, and worthy of being on this earth. What was God
thinking when he took them?” she shrieked. “He should have taken
you instead! You are not worthy of being here!”
With her long finger pointed at me and her
face twisted in rage, she screamed and screamed, “I wish you were
dead, not them!” until I ran out. I ran blindly down the hall and
didn’t see Warren until I bumped straight into him, and he lifted
me up.
“Amelia, what’s wrong?” I gasped for air in
panic and tried to wrench myself out of his hold.
“Calm down,” he insisted.
“Let me go! Leave me alone!” I cried, pushing
myself back like a crazed animal.
Warren wouldn’t listen and carried me down
the halls, with me protesting all the way until we got to his room.
Then he put me down and I began to sob. Tenderly, he folded me into
his embrace and hushed me.
“It can’t be all that bad.”
“She said she wished I were dead, that she
loathed me,” I cried out between sobs. “All I did was try to
help.”
“Eugenia said this to you?”
I nodded yes and began to take slow, deep
breaths to calm myself.
“Those were terrible things to say. No doubt
she wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Warren and I were standing in the middle of
his room. I quickly glanced around and realized I shouldn’t have
been in there with him.
“I will be all right, Warren.” I tried to
smile. I had no intention of having Warren soothe me. I felt uneasy
and politely excused myself. “Thank you for making me feel better.
I think I will go rest for a while.”
“Amelia, wait!” He grabbed my hand. Before I
had a chance to leave, he pulled me against him and began kissing
me on my lips.
Instantly, I pulled back and slapped him
across the face. “How dare you, Warren Stone!”
He was stunned and frantically apologized. “I
don’t know what came over me. I got caught up in the moment. I’m
sorry,” he stammered.
“Don’t you ever do that again! Do you
understand me?”
My head was pounding, my face heated. I
didn’t wait for his reply and stormed out. I thought I saw Patrick
peering down the hall from his room, but I wasn’t certain and
didn’t stop to see.
As soon as I got to my room, I locked my door
and fell against it, shaking my head in disbelief. I knew better, I
told myself. I should never have agreed to Daddy’s request. I
needed to stay isolated. There was nothing outside the doors of my
room for me. Eugenia hated me, Daddy used me, Hattie and I were no
longer friends, Mammy was too busy for me, and Warren only lusted
for me. Then there was Patrick. How my heart ached for him and
cried with the rejection he inflicted upon me.
I went to the armoire and pulled out my
journal and began to write feverishly. It had been so long since
I’d revealed my most intimate thoughts of love, loss, and despair.
I needed to feel the burden off my heavy-hearted chest and put it
somewhere else.
For hours I wrote, until the moon set high
above the thick layer of clouds in the dark Georgia sky. I crawled
into bed and spent the rest of the night and most of the next day,
lost in dreams of yesteryear, far from the reality of my every
day.
It was to be three weeks before the bodies of
Violet and Beatrice could be returned to Savannah for burial, and
Daddy had no choice but return to the war. Patrick was due to leave
shortly after the funerals. Eugenia was a dreadful mess. The days
before Daddy departed, she continually begged him to stay. No one
could help but overhear her day and night as she cried for him to
understand, but to no avail.
I stayed locked away in my rooms, forsaking
chores and companionship. Even when Warren left flowers outside my
room and slipped loving notes under my door, I remained steadfast
and unwilling to have anyone near me.
Mammy seemed to understand and brought my
meals and helped me bathe. She always had words of wisdom, sensing
that the transition I was going through was one every girl
experienced. She believed I loved Warren, and it was I who led her
to believe so. When she spoke, I took her words of advice and
applied them to my feelings for Patrick.
“I know you having troubled times. I see the
way Warren looks at you, even when you don’t see it. I know that’s
why you staying locked away most of the time,” she said, filling
the tub with water. I shivered and cradled myself in the
half-filled tub. Then I relaxed and closed my eyes, listening.
“As much as I do not want to see it, you a
woman now, and it natural for men to want to court you and for you
to be falling in love. It can be scary sometimes.”
I leaned my head back, allowing the water she
poured over me to saturate my hair.
“Is that the way you feel, Mammy? About
Daddy?” I asked innocently.
She stopped and set the pitcher down. She was
kneeling beside me, and I opened my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Mammy. I didn’t mean to upset
you.”
“No need to worry,” she said, smiling
wearily. “You right, that is the way I felt for your Daddy. I was
scared at first, especially since it ain’t ever proper for a Negro
to be with a white man. But I loved him, no matter what anyone
said, and he loved me,” she said with conviction.
I sank back into the water.
“What is true love like, Mammy? Is it when
you can’t think of anything else but him? That he invades your
every waking thought and dream, and your heart races when he’s
near? And he can cause you to lose your breath while making your
head spin?”
She didn’t have to answer. It was the far
away, idyllic look in her eyes told me I was right. Then she met my
eyes with serious concern. “Mr. Stone may be in love you, and you
may love him in return. I see no way to stop it. Only you keep
yourself pure. You understand me?”
I gulped hard and nodded yes.
“You know what’s bound to happen, don’t you?”
she asked, peering down at me, looking to see if I truly understood
the consequences of an intimate union.
“Yes, Mammy, Eugenia told me.”
Mammy sighed with slight relief, picked up
the cloth, and wiped my bare back.
“Good then. You keep yourself pure and Warren
Stone honorable. Promise me, Miss Amelia.”
“I promise,” I said, and she left me to my
bath.
I instantly thought back to Warren’s
uninvited kiss, then to my incident with Patrick. I recalled the
desire those men possessed for me. Both their images flashed in my
mind. I felt their kisses again and remembered how good it felt to
have Patrick yearn for me.
I sank down into the water and imagined what
it would be like to become lovers with a man, though I would wait
as I’d promised Mammy. For my own good and so not to suffer the way
my mummy had, I struggled to keep her sinful ways from controlling
me. Each day the task became more challenging, especially when I
finally saw a glimmer of hope as Patrick’s wall of resistance began
to crumble.
~ ~ ~
The days leading up to Daddy’s departure were
wretched. Eugenia’s continual pleas for him to stay went unheard.
In between her crying spells, she would rant and rave. She would
beg him not to leave, and then her fits would turn to rage, and she
would command him to stay. Daddy went on ignoring her. Instead of
finding a way to comfort his wife through her most troubled time,
he withdrew from her altogether.
Daddy moved out of their rooms, and since all
the guest bedrooms were full, he slept on the floor of his office.
Eugenia cried all hours of the night, and I hoped it would all end
soon.
Hamilton, Warren, and Mammy set out on a very
dangerous journey to North Carolina, where the ship from England
was scheduled to dock. Normally, the undertaker would have this
duty; however he was now overwhelmed with the dead from the war and
had no time to make the trip, especially when there was a great
risk of being killed by the Union troops who were slowly battling
their way through the Confederacy, infiltrating the South. When I
asked Mammy why she volunteered to go along, she told me, “Those
baby girls need a momma to watch over them on their return to
Savannah. Mrs. Arrington can’t handle such a hard trip.”
“Did Daddy ask you to do this, Mammy?” I
asked skeptically.
“No, Miss Amelia. No one had to ask me. It’s
the right thing to do is all. And if he had asked me, ’course I
would have agreed.”
I stood outside on the front gallery,
shivering and wringing my hands as I watched Patrick and Warren
cover the wagon. Hamilton was in the barn fetching the horses.
Mammy and I had packed some food for the trip, in the hope it would
last their entire journey. Mammy and Hamilton shared one travel bag
for their clothing, and Warren borrowed Patrick’s.
While Warren worked the heavy canvas over the
bent wood bows, he occasionally peered under his hat looking over
at me. That morning, he came to me and asked for a private
moment.
“Please hear me out,” he asked solemnly. “I
promise not to take more than a moment of your time.”
I granted him his request with some
hesitation. We stood in the parlor warming ourselves next to the
blazing fire. Warren held his hat in hand and appeared deferential.
This time, he wasn’t out to fulfill any lustful desires, but
appeared to be attempting to properly win my affections.
“Go on, Warren, tell me what it is that’s on
your mind,” I instructed.
He cleared his throat and took my hand. I
allowed him to hold it, silently amused by his discomfort.
“Amelia, since the day I met you, since my
eyes opened and gazed upon you as I lay there dying in the woods, I
haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Not that I want to, I
confess,” he said, and fiddled with my hand. He was so nervous, it
was all I could do to keep from smiling.
“I know I have been too forward with you, and
I regret making you uncomfortable with me. I have thought long
about my behavior that night you came out of Mrs. Arrington’s room
crying. I was startled to see you so distraught and wanted to
comfort you.”
“I forgive you,” I said. “I have thought
about that night as well.”
Warren signed with relief and smiled. “It
does my heart good to know you are no longer angry with me. I
didn’t want to leave until I apologized to you, and…” he stopped
and met my eyes.
From the half-opened pocket doors, Patrick
strolled downstairs and casually walked by. The timing couldn’t
have been more perfect.
Not wanting to waste the opportunity, I
leaned into Warren and threw my arms around his neck. Though the
action took Warren by surprise, he received my hug and
reciprocated, holding me close. I snuggled against his neck,
knowing Patrick was there lurking in the shadows, witnessing the
affection Warren and I were sharing.
“I will miss you while I’m gone. I want
nothing more than to hurry back to you.”
Warren wanted to kiss me, but I pulled away
just before his lips could meet mine.
Shortly before they departed, Daddy loaded
the wagon with several muskets. The team was hitched and the canvas
securely tied down. The air was bitter as a north wind continued to
bluster through the South. Scattered snow squalls frequented the
late morning, leaving a dusting of snow on the ground. I stayed
frozen cold on the gallery, waiting to watch them leave. Mammy gave
me a warm hug and kissed my cold cheek. “You take care of everyone.
Watch over Hattie and Jacob for me until I get back.”
“I will, Mammy.”
“You’re a good girl,” she said to me.
Daddy led her to the wagon, lifted her onto
the wooden bench seat next to Warren and whispered something into
her ear. She gave him a nod and then looked away. Hattie and Jacob
Thomas ran over to the wagon and called out to her as Daddy headed
off to Savannah on horseback. He was going to the bank to secure a
small loan to help us through the tough economic times we would
experience when he returned to battle.