Flight of Fancy: Cora's Daughters (39 page)

BOOK: Flight of Fancy: Cora's Daughters
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Lena did not like it - oh the argument that raged between them over his allowing those few to attend. “You see no harm because you are one of them! What care have you over Negro women, slaves - when you sought their comfort before and after me!”

They both stood stunned at her outburst. Lena turned from the hurt expression on her husband’s face. She knew above all others how hard he ventured to even things within their world – where they could control things. She’d needed a few moments to breathe and calm down. The future welfare of her people, of women like her – meant everything to her.

 

How they established themselves today, would be passed down to their daughters, and their daughter’s daughters and so on. If she and those like her who could help to correct the curse placed upon them, didn’t work aggressively now – she felt the future generations of black women – would be doomed.

Doomed to be nothing more than sex slaves and sexual objects, wenches, baiting the master or men with the most gold to set them up. In the end, it was just another form of slavery. Her passion to correct the harm done was so fierce she would at times forget that her husband, while white, was not the enemy. 

Because Manny knew her - knew the truths and nightmares she battled. Knew of her passion to save her people from the curse of slavery, and the damage caused because of it, he accepted moments like that. Because the damage was real, true and deep and it would travel through each new generation like a plague, a sickness - if not weeded out and destroyed,
now
. Yes – he knew… a number on mass – would never know true freedom or what to do with it.

Moving up behind his wife, taking her gently in his arms, because she was the love of his life – he held her until the moment passed. In the end, they both had to agree that they were not there to guard the souls of all - could not fix the broken souls of all. Each of the women had free choice as to how she would receive certain advances.

With his wife’s protective passions finally calmed, Manny held her while explaining - they were not there to judge or parent. He’d lost count of the many times he had to remind her that she was not a princess anymore - nor was she to preside over all black slaves, especially women. They were not her subjects to guard and protect – no matter how badly she wished to mother and protect them. Manny stood his ground in order to get that through to her. Each woman had to learn to stand her ground and place her value where she would. 

No matter how much she truly loved her people – she had to accept, that together - they were only human and limited in what they could fix. Being free – meant just that. Once they made it to freedom, it was up to them to make their own decisions, whether she felt those decisions to be right or not.

 

In a constant battle with her passion, desires and fears for them - exhaling, giving up the fight – Lena conceded. Even so, men who wished to be invited had to be vetoed by Manny – and if he deemed them worthy, then they were allowed to progress.

One thing he demanded of them while under that roof – respect all in attendance. Those in the north, who knew of the event, men and women, young and older, looked forward to it eagerly. Each appreciating the one time of the year, when they could come together to enjoy the Lord’s birth – celebrate life - while possibly meeting a life mate.

While Lena might be limited in directing young women in their lives, she saw to it that no expense was spared in showing them a better lifestyle. She was wealthy, even more so than her husband. Manny with all of his ships and side businesses had yet to match her wealth. No one knew this of course – because all that she had was in his name.

But he knew… and she knew.

So, when this time of year came – only the best would do.

With all her soul, she believed that her people needed this – just as she’d always experienced such things – she wanted them to feel alive and that they too were important. She saw to it that every detail was exact and with her daughter’s help,
all
walked away with a smile, feeling enriched by the experience.

Her grand balls were always accented with sumptuous cuisines, hence, every table was alight with pleasure, as each dined on foods usually enjoyed exclusively by the rich and the elite. To Lena’s delight – this night was another success.

As for Asiza – attending for the first time, her world was once more expanded, opened up – made brighter. Such splendor enchanted her. If that were not enough, her good man was there to see it as well. She was relieved for him in that there were more than a few Irish in attendance. This brought a return of her husband’s jovial exuberance. With others like him present, Broc once more smiled, joked and laughed - forgetting the pre-dinner issue - they were back to having fun.

In fact, when the time came to return to the ballroom, and that string quartet started up, playing melodies for them to two-step to, Broc couldn’t bear it.

 

Manny was watching him, waiting, expecting it – there was just something about the man. Of his crewmen, there were more than a few like him, so he knew what to expect. He just hoped he didn’t do anything to ruin his wife’s efforts, she took her events seriously. What he knew of the Irish – besides being an exuberant bunch – they could be downright
bawdy
.

Having left the dining hall with his hand holding hers, Broc lifted it to kiss before releasing it and turning to their host and hostess. Scrunching his face, looking towards Lena, an expression filled with sympathy - his eyes next went to her husband, “Aiy – you English, such a bore - yer’min’?” He asked nicely.

Manny smiled, gulped and looked down at Lena – who was watching both of them closely. Manny waited for her to respond, which made Broc laugh out and smirk – “Ah, so yer’lass wears the britches does she?”

Manny snarled at him, which made him laugh all the more. Broc moved over to Lena, “Missus – if you’ah allow me, I’d sure like to add a bit of revelry – just a bit?” He openly flirted, smiling, charming as could be. Unable to resist such a face, because he reminded her of Rory, Lena gave in nodding, “Be our guest.”

Broc looked for the other Irishmen, winked and tossed his head towards the string quartet, “Come on then,”

Eager for a good time, the other men followed him as he murmured for their ears only, “I mean, this a celebration or a wake?”

“Me min’ say wake .” One commented right behind Broc.

“Aiy, not for long.” Broc returned.

The two others laughed out, bringing up the rear.

Manny looked down at Lena, grinning, “Don’t forget, that it was you Miss Lena, who said yes.”

“I’m sure it will be fine.”

Asiza stood by stunned, her mouth open with an urge to cover it with both gloved hands. Her eyes opened wide - she looked from her jaunty husband to Mr. Webster wondering,
‘Is he supposed to take over that way?’
  Her eyes went on a search for Della to ask, but she was nowhere to be found.

The quartet was a bit put out – looking to Manny for aid. Sighing, he gestured that they hand over their instruments.

 

All on the floor turned to the sudden silence and commotion in the corner. One of the men didn’t wish to release his violin to Broc, “Give over, yer borin’ us to tears – I’ah give it back, yer’twat.” He growled, wrestling it from the man, who finally gave it up after a glare from Manny –and stormed off in a huff, insulted.

Broc laughed, winked at Manny and turned to the crowd stating loud and clear, “Aye now - I come to make merry – none while present shall be sleepin’ – no not a’nerry!” He sang in full Irish brogue.

Many laughed, shaking his head, a brow slanted as he glanced down at his wife, “You love, will be sorry,” and the Irish jig began. It was obvious that the crowd approved - a loud cheer went up, and a real celebration commenced. The faster tempo was like flipping a switch, instantly the floor was filled. Skirts hiked up around the knee, wide smiles, laughter and heels kicking up across the floor. The Irish jovial fashion spread across the floor like wild fire. Unwilling to let them down, Broc began singing his loud, bawdy ditty…

 

Come all yer rovin’ blades, that ramble through the city,

Ah kissin’ pretty maids, listen to my ditty,

Our time is comin’ on, when we’ah be merry,

Kitty, Poll, and Nan, will give us sack and sherry.

 

All together, the men playing sang the chorus…

    

Oye - hey for Bobbin Joan - hey for Stoney Batter,

     Keep yer wife a’home … o-o-or else - I’ah be at he-e-er!

 

Lena gasped, looking at Manny. Whose eyes squinted in discomfort looking down at her, “
Ach
– I tried to tell you.”

Asiza didn’t know what to do – her eyes glanced to their host and hostess to see them braced – as if holding their breath. Asiza groaned, thankful that the children were all down the hall in another part of the mansion. As for the guests, they laughed, danced and loved every moment, especially when he reached the bawdy parts. However what came next almost knocked Lena off her feet.

 

In summer lasses go, t’the fields a maying,

thru' the meadows gay, wit’ their sweethearts playin’,

their smiling winning ways, shewe for game their willin’,

tho' Jenny cries no nay, I won' fuck fo’a shillin’.

 

Women cried out shocked! Manny burned beet-red!

Lena shoved him toward them, “Don’t let him sing another line!” She screeched above the loud music and laughter.

Manny moved forward, trying to get Broc’s attention, gesturing by cutting his throat at the men as they sang out the chorus once more.
 

 

Oye - hey for bobbin Joan, Hey for Stony Batter,

Keep yer wife a’home … o-o-or else – I’ah be at he-e-er!

 

Broc saw him and laughed out with his head thrown back, sighing he shook his head, “Aiy – yer English… I hear’ya… no more singing.”

Sparing his host and conceding to his wishes, he cut the lyrics and continued to play, with their feet stomping, moving along with the tempo while the floor jumped with excited dancers. The man he’d taken the violin from, stood on the sidelines, clapping, grinning and eager to play - having as much fun as the rest.

Broc noticed him, winked and gestured him back. He wanted to dance with his wife. Letting bygones be, the musician took his violin back and promised to keep it upbeat.

The moment Broc turned over the violin, he went straight to his wife. “Mr. Broc Wolf, you a wicked man!” She mildly scolded, trying not to grin.


Yer
wicked man!”  He winked, taking her hand and pulling her out onto the dance floor to swing her around as they danced with the others. The music commanded them to move, soon they began exchanging arms with the person next to them to gain a new partner.

Asiza threw her head back laughing from happy exhilaration. She glanced about to find her husband to see that his eyes never left her and he was in fact, working his way back to her. Grinning and feeling mischievous, she set him up for a merry chase.

 

She moved onward, away from him, so that no matter how he tried to work his way back to her, she was out of his reach - and laughing the entire time. Asiza could not remember ever having so much fun, or laughing so much. Her face hurt, her jaws felt that they would lock from constant glee.

Broc, up for the sport, decided to teach her a lesson and when he swung around to where Manny and Lena stood, he reached out and snatched her into the melee. Lena yelped, shocked as the dancers turned back to their original partners. Broc held onto her, swinging her around as they skipped and jumped – gaily pacing with the beat, grinning all the while, “Certainly the Missus is to do a bit a’dancin’?!”

Left with little choice, Lena ended up laughing out as well, getting into the festivities, trying to keep her feet moving across the floor to keep up with her young partner.

Shaking her head she informed him, “You are such a devil – could easily be one of my sons!”

“Madam, I am yours – would consider it an honor.” He jubilantly returned.

“In that case, behave yourself young man,” Lena jokingly scolded him, “– but never stop smiling, it fills this room with all that should be.”

Broc laughed out, “Behave? Aye, I promise mother - please know that I’ah be thee rascal son who is known to break them.”

By the time she and Broc made it back to where they could see Manny, Lena’s laughter was out of control, she could barely keep up with him. Manny stood with an evil squint directed at Broc, which sent them both into more uncontrollable giggles. Having done enough, he thought he had better return the beauty to her husband. Before he handed her back, with a nod of his head to Manny, he showed that he could be a gentleman, murmuring, “Mum, what a pleasure I just had.”

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