Flight of Fancy: Cora's Daughters (11 page)

They, Broc and the women weren’t sure why she was asking, “Sure?” The woman consented, curiously.

Smiling, with her head down Asiza walked out their back door onto the porch with the three following and standing in the doorway.

Each of them stood wondering what she planned to do, watching as she put the hat between her legs then pulled one long braid out and before Broc could stop her, she cut it off way up close to her head.

“Asiza,” Was all that he could get out.

She turned facing them, “I’s jus’ hair.” She murmured humbly and continued to cut the other braid, chopping the rest of her hair off so that it could all be close to one length, short as she figured a boy’s would be.

Mrs. Hardy held her hand over her stomach and over her mouth - shaking her head she murmured, “Lord have mercy, it’s not right, you cutting your hair that way, that’s your glory child – you should not have to do such a thang. I can’t say how disturbing I find that.”

“Got to, so I look the part.”

“Dear child you’ve failed miserably. Nothin’ you do gone make a face like that look like it belong to a boy and certainly to no young man!”

Her daughter walked up to Asiza, her hand out for the scissors, “Let me help, it’s uneven, still got real long spots.”

Asiza passed her the scissors so the young girl could try and make it all one even length, which she did.

Broc could only stand and stare, speechless. This was something he hadn’t considered. It was shocking because it wasn’t something women did and he struggled a bit with it. When the young girl stepped away from Asiza, she had nothing but short waves and curls left. Even so, Mrs. Hardy had been right. Now, all that could be seen was her exceptionally beautiful face. Every aspect of her incredible features was magnified. Her eyes were bigger, huge in fact, looking all the more the dazzling hazel green that they were. Her lips also now dominated, while her nose looked smaller. She ended up emphasizing a pixie look about her once again, nothing about the new look reminded one of a boy.

Staring at her, at the pure magnificence of her amazing face, Broc felt himself stirring in his britches once again. Since their time below in the hiding place of the barn, he’d struggled with an almost constant erection and it was getting tough keeping it hidden.

Snapping him from his trance was the sound of her sweet and sultry – husky voice.

“Thank ya’…” she murmured to the daughter and then to the mother, “… you gone bind me now? Tight, so I’m flat?” Asiza asked.

Mrs. Hardy stepped aside, “Come on back in, gone this far, might as well go the rest.”

Moments later, Asiza came from Mrs. Hardy’s room, fully dressed, tightly wrapped and ready to go. At the porch, she put the hat on her head and made her way down the stairs to where Broc stood holding the reigns of their horses, ready to ride. When they were both sitting in the saddle, Asiza looked back at the lady and her daughter, waving, “Neva’ fo’get what you do, God bless you all.”

Mrs. Hardy smiled and nodded her head, “Stay off the main roads as much as possible.” She warned them, as if they didn’t know that already. “Enjoy that basket of food, that’ll see you well for a while.” She called off as if fretting for their wellbeing.

They both waved once more at the same time and turning their horses about, they pointed them north, riding slowly until they were out of Mrs. Hardy’s sight. They’d been riding for at least an hour before Asiza was the first to speak, “Where we partin’ ways?”

Broc shook his head, his eyes glanced her way as he asked, “You slow – Asiza?”

She was instantly insulted, grinding out, “What you mean, slow?”

They were side by side, his knee not far from the her’s, and Broc’s eyes locked on her for a good spell. “I mean, slow as in understanding - that you an’ I – going the same way.” She gave that some thought, then said, “So what you sayin’ is, even if I go somewhere, you ain’t wantin’ to go, you gone go anyway – that what you sayin’?”

She waited a short time for him to answer and then added, “’Cause I’m free – ain’t no man own me, no more – I’m free. You was gone turn me in, you should’ah done it. Cain’t now – you got blood on yo' hands too.” Still, he said nothing, but she needed him to say something. “If I turn my horse right ‘round, go back south, go back to doin’ what I been doin’ – you comin’ too? That what you sayin’?”

That got him talking, “Why, Asiza, would you go back to where you know you are not free, and wanted for murder. Why would you go back?”

“Maybe tha’s the choice I make – I’m free, I can make a choice. Maybe I go back, hide in the forest an’ wait, help runaways get to where they goin’. Maybe, I kill me up so many hunters, kill up so many o’them dogs, they just start turnin’ slaves loose.

Yeah, that so I won’t kill’em no more – maybe that’s what I do!” She sassed, wanting to show him what it meant for him to stick with her. She didn’t know why, but she was trying to shake him off. Shake him off from her so she wouldn’t be so stupid as to hope for something someone like her would never get. She wasn’t blind, nor slow – he was a good looking man. It was getting to her, that a good looking man like him, would be tagging along after her. If he kept that up, she’d start thinking stupidly – falling into day-dreaming.

Dreams such as, having a real home, a good man and to be left alone to live, and love and be happy. That’s not how it ended for folks like her and she wasn’t about to let this man play with her heart. She knew her life would be short lived, therefore – if it was going to be short lived, she would make it mean something.

“We going north Asiza…” He finally spoke up, “…we finding a piece of land to claim for you and me. We gone settle there, and grow our lives together. That’s what we doin’.”

His saying things like that was really starting to get on her nerves, “You just ain't gone hear nothin’ I say – is you?” She asked.

He sighed, “Asiza why can’nah things be easy for you and me? I see it now, I’m gone have to fight with you, and show you who the man, ev-ver-ry step of the way – I just know it.” He shook his head thinking out loud.

“You gonna listen to me Asiza, and you gonna follow me. Or I’m gonna drag you along, by course and force – ‘til we get where I see us bein’. I got plans, plenty of plans – they include you.”

Looking as mean as her mother tried hard to teach her never to look, she pulled up on Flower’s reigns. Stopping the horse, she looked at Broc with that ornery way she had, saying, “What you thank, you my master o’somethin’?”

Broc turned his eyes to her a moment, pointing his head in direction of the road as a gesture that she should get started again – when she didn’t, he turned his horse sideways to look her straight in the eyes, sighed real slow and deep, “I see, I’m needin’ to explain,” he took another deep breath as if gathering the air needed to say it all, “… that’s just fine with me. All right then, you see - those people we just left, help not only slaves to be free, but be safe until they
are
free. Anyone wishing to help to that cause, like me for instance, they help as well.” He paused to make sure she was watching him, paying close attention and emphasized “Pay attention now Asiza, pay close attention to this part…it's important.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, ornery as can be, she listened, but her face conveyed that she might not like what she was about to hear.

“Now, truth is, while you slept, recovered – I became your
new
master.”

Asiza's mouth dropped open, her eyes went wide and then narrowed again, sputtering, “I shudda’ know you was up to no good! You-…”

“Hush! Hush it up right now and listen to me!” He barked, leaning towards her, his expression demanding her obedience.

Asiza drew in on a deep huff, not the least bit happy, but she sealed her lips to listen, while her eyes shot daggers at him.

“Now, as I was saying – me being your new owner, means, you are not free, until you reach your destination. That destination, is wherever – I – settle – and that, will be in the north,” he nodded his head in a firm gesture to emphasize, north, and after a sufficient pause continued, “… also, while you were sleeping, the honorable Reverend Hardy would not allow me to sin under his roof or on his land, nor sleep where you slept, nor undress you, nor tend to you – as I was not your husband.”

He paused taking a breath, “In short order, the decision was made, best solution was make me so – yer’ husband that is. This way, I could see t’you and he could be on his way in deliverin’ the slaves in his care… to freedom. Leaving me, you see – to deliver you – to your freedom.” He sat in his saddle, hands crossed over the horn of it. His eyes were gazing directly into hers, waiting for her to react and say something now that all was told. In truth, he didn’t know what to expect, she
was
– dangerous after all.

Asiza sat a moment, and then eased back comfortably in her saddle, smiling as if she’d seen a truth only she could see, “I ain’t believin’ not one word you jus’say! A white man, cain’t marry no Negro woman. Even I know that, neva’ done, neva’ will.”

“Don’t talk foolish.” He corrected her.

“Don’ tell me not t’talk foolish!”

The look on his face told her just how that sounded and it alone sounded foolish. “I’on like you, not eva’ gonna!” She snapped,feeling embarrassed.

“Listen to me, hear what I’m sayin’ to you – don’ believe me, maybe knowing the Lord will get through to you! Moses married a Negro woman. Did ya' know that?”

“You do know about Moses – from the bible, that Moses?”

“I do, I ain’t that simple – everybody know Moses.”

“Glad to hear it, well he married a negro woman – her name was Zipporah. Now, God give Moses the job of bringing his people from Egypt –
after
– he marry her. That’s what Reverend Hardy showed me, right in his bible. And for that reason, he say, - if the Lord see someone so important as Moses with a Negro wife, who am I – a man who should be humble before the Lord that one should not be given unto me as well? If I plan to travel, eat, sleep and lay with one – then just like Moses took one to wife, he would no less see that I do the same.”

“Don’ believe you.” She returned.

“So now you don’t believe the bible?”

“Don’ believe
you
.”

“Can you read the bible?”

“No… can you?”

“I can read some – enough to know what the reverend say is true. Either case, don’ matter if I believe it, or you believe it, the reverend believe it and he said I had to marry you – or leave you to him. I wasn’t about to do that, so he married us. You should’ah heard it – that reverend got a way with words, it was nice. He did us real proud.”

He looked up at the sky, it was almost full dark now and then back down at her, smiling. “We need to ride a bit more, then settle for the night. Find a good tree for you t’climb.” He turned his horse around, “Come along now Asiza – I'm your husband, get used to it. First light, I’ah show you more proof.”

“You know, I kill my last masta’.”

“Yep… I sure do know.”

“So wha’s t’stop me from getting’ rid o’you?”

“’Cause I ain’t just ya’master, like I said, I’m ya’husband – you my wife. In the afterlife - it would be mighty hard for ya’to explain to the Lord why ya’killed the man he picked to take care o’you. Besides that, you got feelins for me – ya’just don’t know it yet – when you do know – you’ah be glad you didn’t kill me. Now, come along, we got a long way t’go ‘fore we find a place for our home.”

This time he turned his horse around and carried on, leaving her to make up her mind. Besides, he had every reason to believe she would follow him.

He knew in his heart and in his soul that what he felt about Asiza was real. What he knew about her was that she had an honorable type of spirit. One that only compelled her to kill those she felt deserved it – the evil ones who would kill her and those like her, without a blink of an eye. She thought she didn’t like white folks, but the truth was, she didn’t like whites who were like the devil.

She didn’t feel that way about him.

They, he and Asiza, were as one.

He knew it, in time, she would know it as well.

Another thing about her, she was alone and lonely.

Before he’d found Asiza… so had he been.

Now, he only needed to lead and leave her for a while and she would follow – he sure hoped so, because if not, he wasn’t sure what he would do.

Chapter Seven

Broc was afraid.

That wasn’t something he often felt, but concerning Asiza – most certainly. What if she didn’t follow him? What if he stopped for the night and she never showed up, and had in fact, continued on without him?

What if everything he’d said to her, was for nothing?

He never wanted anything so desperately as he wanted her. The only reason he became a bounty hunter was because he was on the road all the time anyway, looking for his father. Why not kill two birds with one stone - search for his sire and search out wanted fugitives. He had been perfectly content to do that – living the life of a wanderer and being his own man.