Queen (103 page)

    and because they sought it, and recognized it when they saw it, they

    found it more often than most, and praised it, and ignored or dismissed

    the bad. The children were following in their parents' footsteps, for

    Abram was a stem but fair father, and Joyce a generous mother who shared

    her love equally, and set a firm moral tone for her offspring. Their

    second son, Wash, was not their own, but a light-skinned quadroon who had

    been born with a crippled leg. His real mother had died when he was

    little, and Joyce had adopted him, and loved him. When Wash's father, who

    had never had much time for his son, ran away from the

    QUEEN 625

plantation at the start of the war and was never seen again, Abram simply

accepted the boy's temporary presence in his house as a permanent fact and

Wash could not remember that he had ever had other parents.

    The family, with its easy, raucous familiarity and overtly displayed

    affections, was a revelation to Queen, who had never known such simple

    treasure. Within days she became part of the household, appreciated by

    all of them, and they in return gave her the simple gifts of

    uncomplicated laughter, of sibling bickering that vanished as quickly as

    it arose, and the understanding and support that came from mutually

    shared problems. Each evening the family sat together on the porch, Joyce

    and Abram in rocking chairs, and the children squatting on stools or on

    the ground, and discussed their day, with its joys and its dilemmas, and

    counseled each other, wisely or badly, but with care and affection.

    Queen would join them and she heard with increasing awe the squabbles and

    discipline, the jokes and the advice, the gossip and the news, for this

    was how she wanted her life to be. No one cared if she was white or

    black, but all were solicitous of her welfare.

    One warm evening she was alone with Joyce on the porch. Abram was working

    late, and the children had been allowed to go to a sock hop. Joyce rocked

    gently, knitting for the coming winter, and Queen sat in Abram's rocker,

    watching the moths dance around the lamp, and listening to the sounds of

    the shantytown night. Music and laughter and sometimes a distant, angry

    voice. And mothers singing lullabies. She began to talk, softly, slowly,

    haltingly, of her experience in Decatur, until the whole awful story

    tumbled out. Joyce said nothing throughout, but went on knitting, and

    nodded from time to time, to let Queen know she was listening. When she

    finished, Queen was surprised that she wasn't crying. She had relived the

    nightmare of Digby's rape in every bloody detail, and it caused her much

    pain, but she didn't want to cry. She told the story of Alice's rejection

    of her, from a slightly different point of view, with some sympathy for

    Alice's predicament.

    Joyce made no comment on the story, but put her knitting away, and

    suggested they pray for the forgiveness of those who had treated Queen

    so badly. Queen smiled and shook her

626 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

head, an intolerable burden lifted from her shoulders. She might pray for

Alice, but never for Digby.

    Queen prayed often and fervently these days. She went regularly to the

    church of her salvation with Joyce, and was encouraged by the Preacher to

    believe that her footsteps there had been divinely inspired.

    "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear

    no evil," the Preacher intoned, "for Thou art with me. Thy rod and Thy

    staff, they comfort me."

And Queen agreed.

    What surprised Queen most was how easy it had been. She had spent her life

    denying she was black because she believed herself to be white, and wanted

    Jass and all her white relations to admit that fact, but it had only

    brought her unhappiness, and rejection by some of darker skin.

    In Decatur she had tried to pretend that she had no black blood at all, and

    that had brought her misery.

    Here she had accepted her blood, and had allied herself to people with whom

    she felt a sense of kinship, and it was giving her a rare and welcome sense

    of belonging. She began to understand that her rejection by the field hands

    was because of mutual insecurity and fear, hers because she didn't want to

    be one of them and thought herself different, theirs because they didn't

    understand her ambitions, and thought her different.

    The sadness was that it could not last. Abram and Joyce would not ask her

    to leave, but Queen knew she was an additional small strain on their meager

    resources. Nor did she want to live the rest of her life as part of their

    family. She wanted a family of her own.

Joyce found the job for her, through the Preacher, who had contacts with

some of the white missionaries in town. At the appointed hour, Queen,

soberly dressed, went with Joyce to a sprawling, gracious house with a large

and untidy garden. A tall, frail woman of late middle years, her hair pulled

back in a fierce bun, answered the door to them, and introduced herself as

Miss Gippy. She looked at Queen appraisingly and then led them to the

sitting room.

Her sister, Miss Mandy, conducted the interview, for she

    QUEEN 627

ran the house, but Miss Gippy frequently chimed in, usually with a

quotation from the Bible that had some relevance to what was being said.

Queen, who was in a happy frame of mind, even though neither she nor Joyce

was invited to sit, almost giggled at one interruption, and thought that

Miss Gippy must know the Good Book backward.

    Miss Mandy was rounder and less frail than her sister, of similar years

    and sterner stuff. She listened to Queen's qualifications, and explained

    their circumstances. Originally from New Hampshire, they had come South

    after the war to minister to the souls of the newly freed blacks. They

    had lived here for a year, and were in need of a housekeeper. The several

    girls they had employed had been either flighty or lazy, and all had

    left. Miss Mandy admitted they were strict taskmasters, but were fair,

    and Queen would get her pay, her board and her keep, and one afternoon

    off a week. In return she was to run the house to the sisters'

    instructions.

    "If any would not work, neither should he eat," Miss Gippy droned

    sanctimoniously.

    Queen said the conditions were acceptable, and waited while Miss Mandy

    walked around her, inspecting her as if she were a slave on the block.

    A tiny smile fought its way to Queen's lips, and she dared not look at

    Joyce. But she did look at Miss Gippy, and the smile disappeared to where

    it had come from.

    Finally, Miss Mandy pronounced herself satisfied. "Excellent. And lovely

    teeth," she said. "When can you begin, Queen? Such an odd name."

    It was agreed that Queen could begin immediately. She would collect her

    few belongings from Joyce, and return to prepare supper. They were about

    to depart, when Miss Gippy coughed.

    "We should say a little prayer first," Miss Mandy said, and knelt. Miss

    Gippy knelt beside her, and Queen and Joyce followed suit.

    "Man goeth forth unto his work, unto his labor," Miss Gippy prayed. "0

    Lord, how manifold are Thy works. In wisdom hast Thou made them all."

    The wretched smile that Queen had fought so hard to subdue struggled to

    her lips again.

628 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

    It was hard work, for the sisters had not had help for several weeks, and

    there was much to catch up on, but slowly Queen brought it all under

    control. She was provided with two black dresses, white aprons and caps,

    the cost of which was deducted from her wages, and she worked from early

    morning till late at night, but usually took some hours off in the

    afternoon, or didn't hurry home when she went shopping. Miss Mandy had been

    honest with her-both sisters were strict taskmasters, but very fair, and

    frequently helped in the kitchen. They seldom went out, and Queen saw

    little evidence of their missionary work, other than their mild

    discouragement of her continuing friendship with Joyce.

    "Obviously," Miss Mandy said to Queen, "you have had a good education.

    Women like Joyce have not, and are only a few steps from the jungle. That

    is why we have a mission to them. "

    Queen bit her lip and didn't answer back, didn't defend Joyce, because she

    had come to understand that what the sisters called their mission was an

    excuse, a rationale for what otherwise would be an empty existence. They

    were deeply religious, and Queen's day was punctuated by calls to pray with

    the sisters, or hymns sung to a pounding accompaniment by Miss Gippy on the

    pump organ.

    "They're a pair of dragons," she told Joyce, as they walked together to

    church. "But their fire is pretty old now."

    Sunday was not Queen's day off, but she was expected to attend church in

    the morning. To the sisters' chagrin, she always went with Joyce to the

    black church, because it marked an important turning point in her life, and

    she loved the rousing sermons and hearty, heartfelt hymns. Sometimes it all

    got so exciting she would get carried away, and chant and shout with the

    best of them, and sometimes she was sure the Spirit moved within her, and

    she went into a trancelike state of ecstasy-

She was baptized one late fall day, just before the cold weather of winter

set in. The service was held at the riverbank, where the congregation

gathered and sang their joy in Jesus. A number of whites collected nearby,

to watch the niggers have their fun, for it was a colorful occasion.

    QUEEN 629

    The Preacher stood up to his waist in the chilly water, with some deacons

    and Joyce beside him. Three or four celebrants stood in a line before

    them, teeth chattering with fervor and cold. The Preacher put his arm

    around Queen and roared to heaven.

    "0 Lord, we beseech Thee, receive now this child, Queen, that she may be

    bom again, into Thy sweet grace. Just as Saint John baptized Thee, we now

    wash away her sins in the water of love, and dedicate her to Thy glory

    fo'ever."

    He held his hand over Queen's mouth and nose, and dunked her in the

    river. The choir was at fever pitch. When Queen bobbed up, her eyes

    shining, her spirit vibrant, there was clapping and cheering.

    "I know it! I know the Lord now!" Queen shouted to the world. "I feel his

    great love!"

    Truly, she felt wonderful, and even if it was only by contrast to her

    earlier misery, that was enough, for she genuinely believed that God was

    directing her life.

    The sisters strongly disapproved of the way blacks worshiped the Lord,

    and every Sunday they told her she should come with them to their own

    church, and contemplate the wonder of His works in calm and quiet.

    "Those rowdy sermons, 'The earth am flat, the sun do move,' " Miss Gippy

    sniffed. "Dangerous stuff, Queen."

    "Clapping and dancing and singing, and dunking people at baptism," Miss

    Mandy agreed. "This is heathen behavior, idolatry! "

    "Voodoo and African ritual," Miss Gippy went further. "You are not in the

    jungle now. You have to be civilized, even in worship. Especially in

    worship."

    Queen nodded her head seriously, for she had become quite fond of the old

    biddies.

    "Maybe the Lord moves in mysterious ways, m'm," she said. They sighed,

    and nodded sadly, and agreed with her, and sent her off to prepare their

    dinner. Just as Queen had become fond of them, they felt surprisingly

    affectionate to her, both for herself and for what she represented to

    them.

Miss Gippy had been christened Gypsophilia, a tiny flower, by sober

Lutheran parents, merchants in New Hampshire, who

630 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

had hoped that the good Lord would send them a son. It was not to be. They

named their second daughter Amanda, and even though they prayed with all

their hearts and worked strenuously at their physical union, they were not

blessed with any more children. They raised their daughters with

discipline tempered by as much love as their austere religion allowed them

to show, and prayed for good husbands for both of them. Again, their

prayers were not answered, and the parents began to believe they had

offended the Lord in some way. Materially they prospered, and could

provide a good dowry if any young man had the sense to take either

daughter in wedlock, but no one took the opportunity.

    Both girls were plain, each loved the other, and both were devoted to

    their church. Occasionally, men crossed their paths, and both had mild