Queen (48 page)

    gratefully, and took Easter inside.

    Even after they had left the room, the silence continued, until Andrew

    junior broke it.

    "What am I paying you for?" he called to the orchestra. "Play!" They

    began to play, sensibly, a slow waltz.

    A few couples started to dance again, and gradually something of the old

    mood returned-to half of those present. The blacks had been put back in

    their place and did not immedi-

    286 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

ately see the sense in provoking more of the white man's wrath. For the

next three or four dances, it was a white man's party.

James was not in the bam because Henry Clay had come to talk to him. He

had arrived at the Hermitage that morning from Ashland, his home in

Kentucky, where he had been spending the summer. He had made his respects

to Andrew junior, who was not thrilled to see him, and Sarah, who was

enchanted by his easy elegance, and he had watched the wedding from the

house. When the rain started, he sought out James, who was the reason for

his visit. They had been given the use of Andrew's study, which amused

them, for both knew it was Andrew they were going to discuss.

    They circled the issue warily for a while, until James could not contain

    his curiosity.

"How are things in Washington?" be began.

    "I've no idea," Henry laughed. "It's been a pleasant summer in Kentucky,

    away from it all. I do not relish going back."

    He was lying, and they both knew it. The cut and thrust of politics was

    life and blood to Henry.

    "And Andrew?" James asked, smiling in gentle provocation.,

    "Military men should be employed by governments, not in charge of them,"

    Henry laughed in response. "This second term is Andrew's last campaign,

    and he is determined to win the war. "

    He took a pinch of snuff. His levity did not fool James. He knew Henry

    was vitally concerned about the welfare of the country.

    "He rides roughshod over Congress, and has tom the Constitution to

    tatters. He claims a mandate from the people, but all they did was elect

    him to an office, not crown him king. He claims to be the champion of the

    states, but he gathers ever more power into his own office. John--he was

    referring to John Quincy Adams, Andrew's predecessor- "never used the

    veto once. Andrew threatens it every day."

    They were old enemies. Henry was particularly bitter about Andrew's veto

    of his bill to recharter the United States Bank. Andrew's bitter

    opposition to the central bank had led to its

    MERGING 287

effective demise and to a rash of new state banks, operating under a

patchwork quilt of legislation by the individual states.

    "He won't be there much longer. Another eighteen months-" James said.

    Henry laughed again. "Nothing will change. Van Buren will ride to the

    presidency on Andrew's coattails, and continue all his policies because he

    has none of his own."

    "You could run against him," James suggested, but although Henry shook his

    head, his reply was enigmatic. "Perhaps," he said.

    He took another pinch of snuff. "But Martin would be a formidable opponent,

    if only because he bathes in Andrew's aura," Henry continued. "We'll see."

    There was a small silence. James waited and wondered and guessed. Henry

    came to the point.

    "If you had information, written documents, that would help discredit

    Andrew, would you release them?"

    James felt a deep and churning anger rise. How did everybody know?

"What documents?" he asked, evenly.

    "Bribes paid to certain compliant Chickasaws in return for a treaty." Henry

    did not mince matters.

    James shook his head. "I have no such evidence," he said. "No such proof."

    "A very large amount of Chickasaw land was deeded to you by the federal

    government immediately after that treaty was signed," Henry said. "Long

    before the land was generally made available."

    He stared at James, as if willing him to renounce the lie. But Henry was

    not Andrew, and his steady gaze only caused James's anger to erupt.

    "It was collateral for a loan," he exploded. "I've lent him fortunes over

    the years, going all the way back to New Orleans, and never seen a penny in

    return. This time I wanted insurance."

    Henry sighed, knowing he was wasting his time. He had not expected to

    succeed, but he would not have forgiven himself if he had not tried.

    "Did you get your money back?" He smiled. There was no point in

    antagonizing James any further.

288 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

"Yes," James said. -I got my money back."

    Henry kept trying, but gently now, for he understood the truth. James did

    have proof of Andrew's culpability, but in releasing it he might destroy

    himself, and few men are willing to be their own executioners. Eventually

    they said their goodbyes, and Henry made to leave.

    "All I did was lend him money," James said again, as Henry left the room.

In a small side room of the bam, Cap'n Jack and Angel were trying to

comfort the wretched Easter.

    "Hush, chile," Cap'n Jack said. "'Twere an accident. No one gwine blame

    you."

"They all did," Easter cried. "'Tweren't my fault!"

    Angel nodded because she saw the injustice of it. "I said no good would

    come of it, black folk mixin' with white," she said. "'Tain't fittin'."

    Easter stared at the party through the open door. What hurt her most was

    that Jass had not stayed with her. He had brought her here, said a few

    sensible things while she cried, and then left her. She could see him

    dancing with Lizzie, as if nothing much had happened.

    Reuben came to the door. "Feelin' better?" he asked, with genuine

    concern. Easter stared at him, and then at Jass dancing with Lizzie, and

    could not cope with any of it. She slammed the door in Reuben's face, and

    fell into Cap'n Jack's anns, weeping again.

    If there had ever been a chance that Cap'n Jack would forget or abandon

    his vows of vengeance against James, it was gone now. Easter had been

    silly and forgetful, but no more than that, and surely did not deserve

    such a public humiliation. James was not directly responsible for what

    had happened, but he was a Massa of slaves, and that in itself was

    causing a blind fury in Cap'n Jack. Not even Jass's triumphant behavior

    was of any solace to him.

But Jass had impressed many of the white women present, and especially

Lizzie. The boy had looked like a man, had behaved like a man, striding

across the silent dance floor to protect his property. Several female

hearts had fluttered, and Jass was not

    MERGING 289

short of dancing partners, but Lizzie deflected any rivals by refusing to

let him out of her sight or her arms. At the same time, being sensible, she

did not attempt to silence any of the flattering attention that was

surrounding Jass.

    Jass loved it. He had met his first challenge in the adult world, and had

    triumphed. Nor did he mind the fact that Lizzie was constantly beside him.

    She was pretty, she was his own age, and she was flirting with him

    outrageously. Jass knew he would have sweet dreams that night.

    He even felt some charity toward Easter. At first, when he realized the

    enormity of what she had done, his only thought was to thrash her hide, but

    now, hero of the moment, he decided that she'd been silly, she was only

    young, and he looked forward to smacking her cute little tail.

    He wondered how much more he could achieve. The barn was hot, the evening

    cool. He suggested to Lizzie that they take a turn outside, and she had

    flutteringly agreed.

    The rain had stopped, leaving behind the pretty smell of a damp garden.

    They strolled together arm in arm for a while, and then Jass summoned up

    his courage.

    "I wonder if-- he began, "-when we get back to Alabama-I might call on

    you."

    Lizzie, knowing the future that her parents at least were mapping out for

    them, feigned surprise.

"Whatever for?" she asked innocently.

    The question confused Jass; the answer was obvious to him. "Well, you know,

    so we can-get to know each other better."

    Lizzie waved her fan rapidly, as if she were having hot flushes.

    "Why, Mr. Jackson," she drawled. "I do believe you're courting me."

    Jass, to his surprise, didn't blush. "I guess I am," he laughed.

    "My," Lizzie said. "I don't believe I'm quite ready for that." She saw the

    disappointment on his face, and added her intended rider. "But I don't

    suppose there'd be any harm if you came to see me once in a while-"

    Jass laughed again, feeling wonderful. Having got this far, he decided to

    push his luck.

"Oh, Lizzie," he said and hoped it conveyed some passion.

290 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

He leaned close to her and kissed her on the lips, his as firmly closed

as hers.

    Lizzie allowed it to happen, and then broke away in apparent outrage.

    "Sir!" she cried. "Just because I squeezed you into my dance card does

    not give you the right to violate my person! Don't you ever kiss me

    again!"

    For a moment, Jass was confused, and believed that she meant it.

    "Not until you have learned to do it properiy," Lizzie laughed, and ran

    back to the barn.

    Jass laughed too, but didn't follow her. He had accomplished enough for

    one night, and knew there was no more to be had. He had stared at the

    stars, and found it hard to believe that life, with its many daunting

    confusions, could offer such enom-tous rewards.

    Only one tiny problem clouded his flawless horizon. He had kissed Lizzie

    chastely, lips closed, as he kissed all womenhis mother, his aunts, his

    sisters and his cousins-but she had suggested it was not enough.

    Obviously, there, was more to kissing than Jass had understood.

    He wondered whom he could ask about it, and dismissed any of the older

    men he knew, because perhaps it was something he should already know.

    Wesley, he decided. On his return to Florence, he would seek the advice

    of his old nemesis, Wesley, because now they had something in common.

    He didn't want to go back to the party, which was in its closing stages

    anyway. He wanted this night to last forever.

    Jass sat on a log and savored the night and took joy in the company of

    his newfound friend, Jass.

    35

lass kept his promise to himself, but James broke his word to Sally. He

wrote to Andrew soon after their return to Florence, but it was because

they heard of a chimney fire that had destroyed the Hermitage. There had

been no loss of life, but the letter was full of sympathy, for James knew

how much the mansion he had so lovingly built meant to his old friend. He

did not mention the removal, or the contentious letters, telling himself

that this was not the time, that he wanted to restore a working

relationship with Andrew again before raising such difficult matters.

Andrew replied a few weeks later, and was courteous and wrote of his

determination to rebuild the Hermitage exactly as it had been. It pleased

James to have such a warm response and he was becoming less concerned

about the removal. The Chickasaw were going west, and while he heard many

stories about their privations along the way, James decided that Sara was

right. It wasn't the same as the British in Ireland: The Indians were

being given good land, to live in peace and prosperity in their tribal

manner. It was young Doublehead who helped bring James to this conclusion,

although he was hardly young anymore.

    It was a cold November afternoon. James was alone in the house, but for

    several slaves. Sally and Sassy were staying with Mary, who was in

    confinement again, and Jass was spending the weekend with his new friend

    Wesley. The Trio were with Sally and Sassy.

    The winter sun was low and without warmth. The dogs had been uneasy since

    midday, restless and whining. Several times, James had looked out the

    window and thought he saw people moving among the distant trees, but

    assumed it to be the normal business of the plantation. Toward sundown,

    the dogs started barking in eamest, incessantly, excitedly, as at

    prowl-

    291

292 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

ers, and James went outside to investigate, hoping a slave had not been

foolish enough to run away.

    Mitchell and Noah, a slave guard, were on the front lawn, both with dogs

    straining at their leashes, desperate to get to some quarry. Other slaves

    had gathered near the house, silently, curiously, looking to the horizon.

    Standing among the distant trees, in small groups of two and three,