The Kitchen House (11 page)

“Who is yours?” I wanted to know.

“Both,” she said. She looked at me in puzzlement. “You don’t talk this much since you get here.”

I smiled but had no answer. I could not explain to her my happiness. I knew only that Ben was back, and up in the big house, I had a baby to love. One who needed me.

Belle

J
UST ONE BAD THING HAPPENING
after another. First little Sally, then they get Ben.

Last night out of nowhere, they come for Ben. Who’s leading the pack but that overseer, that dirty Rankin. Four men jump Ben when he comes out of the pig barn. They tie him and ride off before Papa or Jimmy get there to stop them. I don’t wait. I run for the cap’n. He takes Papa and they ride out. They get to Ben after the men had him down to nothing, after they took all his clothes, just for ugly.

“Nigga, you confess or we gonna kill you,” they say, but Ben says he knows they’re gonna kill him, don’t matter what he say.

He asks, “What I do? What I do?”

“You kill that little white gal,” they say.

“I don’t know what you talkin’ about,” Ben says, but they get him down, kicking at him, telling him to say he done it.

“Here,” one of them says, “here, use this.” He takes one of Ben’s horse nails he carries in his pocket. “Take his ear off. That’ll get him to talk.”

Everybody knows, over at the courthouse, when a Negro done wrong, they nail the ear to the tree before they cut it off. So that’s what they do to Ben. They get his one ear off, and they’re getting set to do the other one, but the cap’n get there and shoots the top of the tree.

“Loose that man!” says the cap’n. “He’s my property.”

They’re all drinking and don’t want to stop, but Papa George lifts his gun and gets ready to fire. The cap’n says, “Easy, George, just keep that gun steady for them to see. Let me try to work this
out.” The cap’n gets down from his horse and goes over to the men. He knows them good enough to say their names.

Rankin steps out. “Cap’n, I’m just doing my job, taking this boy in.”

“Rankin. Gentlemen,” the cap’n say, “I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding. My man here did nothing wrong.”

They don’t want to give Ben up, but they know he’s the cap’n’s property. Rankin’s smart enough to know to stand with the cap’n, so he tells the men to go on. He says he’ll help the cap’n settle this at home.

Blood is pumping from where Ben’s ear is off, and Papa tears his shirt to wrap it tight. “Ben not hisself,” Papa says. “He just walkin’ in circles, sayin’, ‘Papa, where my clothes, where my clothes?’”

In all that mess, Ben won’t get up on the horse until his clothes was back on. The cap’n took Rankin’s horse for Ben and told that overseer to walk. Everybody knows that Rankin’s gonna take this out on somebody down the road.

My Ben don’t want me to see him, but I go over anyway. He won’t look at me and keeps his eyes closed. I helped Mama to get the bleeding stopped, but back in my kitchen house, all I can do is cry for what he looks like. He’s still my Benny, but not his pretty self. Why did they do this to him?

N
EXT DAY, WHEN
I’
M GETTING
dinner on, the cap’n comes down here, banging open the door. “What did Waters mean when he said that you had a lover?”

“I don’t know,” I say, scared. I never did see the cap’n mad at me like this before.

“Is it Mae’s boy he’s talking about? Is it Ben?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know what that tutor’s talking about.”

“I’d sell him if I thought he touched you!”

“Ben don’t do nothing to me,” I say.

“Belle, this has been put off too long. I’m getting your papers in order. In summer you’ll go up north. I’ll find the right husband for you. I won’t have you ruining your life here.”

“But I want to stay! This is my home! I have Mama and Papa here. Dory and the girls, they’re like sisters to me.”

“They are my slaves!”

I get mad. “Are you forgetting about my mama? She was your slave, too. You bring slaves on your ship! You sell them!”

“No! Never on my ship. I never brought them over.”

“But you bought them! They’re yours. Except for Rankin, everybody down in the quarters is a slave.”

“My father bought all of them,” the cap’n says. “He needed them to get this place started. And you know I need them now to keep it going.”

I breathe in a couple times, trying to slow my mouth. “First you say that I can’t stay in your big house. Now you say I can’t stay in my kitchen house. Why do you always got to keep me moving?”

“Belle,” he say, his voice going soft, “I want a good life for you. You are my daughter.”

Hoh! He calls me his daughter, and all the time he’s got me working down here in the kitchen house! “So if I die, do I go in the ground next to Miss Sally, or do you put me in the ground down by the quarters?”

“You go too far! By next summer I’ll have you out of here. In the meantime, you stay away from that man.”

“Ben a good man, Cap’n,” I try again.

“Listen, Belle. I’ve instructed Rankin to watch out for him. He’ll take action if need be. I warn you, Belle, the consequences will be harsh.”

“Please,” I say.

“Belle! Enough! I just lost… I have to leave in the morning, and I need to know that this matter is settled.”

First time ever, I see he’s looking older than his fifty-some years. “Are you leaving again? This quick?” I say.

“I have no choice, Belle. But I know it’s time for me to come back here to run this place. Martha can’t keep going like this, and Marshall—”

“That tutor’s not right with Marshall,” I say.

The cap’n hold up his hand. “I don’t want to hear anything more about Marshall. If nothing else, he needs dicipline.”

“But—”

“Belle,” he stops me, “no more! Now give me your word that you will not allow that man around you.”

And so I do.

Lavinia

T
HE AFTERNOON FOLLOWING
B
EN’S RETURN,
I was sent up again to the big house to sit with Campbell. The house was quiet, and I was dozing alongside the baby until I was awakened by the captain’s voice on the upstairs landing. “Where are you going?”

“Under the circumstances, I felt it best if I sought employment elsewhere.” I recognized the tutor’s voice.

“Listen, Waters,” said the captain, “this is a difficult time. I can’t afford any further disruption in my household. I have to leave again tomorrow; I have a crew to settle with, a cargo to unload, repairs to see to. I’ll be back in less than two months, certainly by Christmas. I would appreciate it if you would consider staying at least until then. My son clearly needs a firm hand. Martha can’t deal with him right now. Besides, I believe her indulgence is a great part of the problem.”

“I do feel responsible for my part in his misrepresentation in the death of—” the tutor started.

“That rests with my son,” the captain interrupted. “He must learn to be accountable.”

“Yes,” said Waters. “I feel it my obligation to tell you that since my arrival, I have been aware of Master Marshall’s need for strong guidance. Your house servants and those at the barn favor the boy, and I am reluctant to say they have tried on occasion to interfere.”

“I will speak to them. How is he doing with his studies?” the captain asked.

“Poorly, I’m afraid,” the tutor replied. “He is not used to discipline, and his attention is easily distracted.”

“If you are willing to stay, I give you full authority to use whatever measures you feel necessary to guide him.”

There was a pause before the tutor replied. “Captain, under the circumstances, I feel duty-bound to continue on here with my services. I will do my utmost to help Master Marshall.”

“Good. Good,” the captain replied. “It’s time the boy was taken in hand.” He called for Jacob then, and when Uncle Jacob came, the captain asked him to take the tutor’s bags back to his room and unpack for him.

“Yes, Cap’n,” I heard Uncle Jacob’s quiet reply.

O
N THE MORNING OF HIS
departure, the captain came to talk to Dory and Mama in the blue room. “I don’t want Miss Martha to have the laudanum anymore,” he said. “She’ll never get well if she keeps sleeping like this.”

“The doctor say she needin’ those drops,” Mama replied.

“I don’t care what the doctor said. I say she is not to have them any longer!”

“Yes, Cap’n,” Mama said.

“Mae,” he said, “I’m counting on you. Mr. Waters will take Marshall in hand. I leave you to watch over Miss Martha and Campbell.” He nodded toward the cradle.

“Cap’n,” Mama Mae said, looking back toward the door, “I got to talk to you about Marshall and Mr. Wat—”

The captain cut her off. “Waters has agreed to stay on. He is in charge of Marshall. I need you and the others to let Waters do his job.”

“But Cap’n—” Mama tried, but again he interrupted.

“Mae! Not now. He has told me there has been interference, and I won’t have it! Everything stands as it is until I am home again at Christmas.” He walked quickly to the bedroom door and looked in at his sleeping wife before he left.

After he was gone, Mama asked Dory, “What the cap’n call that baby?”

Dory shrugged.

“Campbell,” I said.

Mama Mae puckered her face. “Where he get that name?”

Dory grimaced in reply.

I was silent.

A
ROUTINE WAS SOON ESTABLISHED.
First thing in the morning, I was sent to help Dory care for the babies in the blue room. When Miss Martha rose and sat in a chair for her breakfast, Mama changed the bed linen, and I was given the chore of assisting Miss Martha with her morning toilette. Though I was proud of my new responsibilities, I was often unsure what to do, and I constantly looked to Mama Mae for direction. In those first weeks, Miss Martha was dreadfully unhappy. She continually demanded more drops, but though Mama maintained a pretense of giving a large dosage, I had no doubt that she was keeping her resolve to follow the captain’s orders. Gradually, as the tonics lessened in strength, a new, more stable Miss Martha began to emerge. When she walked about the room, she often stopped to stare out the window. The first time I saw her standing there, I sensed rather than heard her sob. Thinking that she was missing Sally, I went, uncoached, to stand quietly at her side. She looked down at me and stroked my head. “Dear Isabelle,” she said.

Daily, my compassion for the woman grew, but as it did, I felt disloyal to Belle. I did not fully understand Belle’s reasons for her anger toward Miss Martha and one day questioned her about it.

“You’ll see everything when you’re old enough,” Belle instructed. “When you’re up in the big house, just do like Mama say.” Those words served me well, for in the end, the woman I most wanted to please was Mama Mae.

Miss Martha still showed little interest in Campbell, though he was brought to her at least twice a day. When pressed, she held him, but the moment he fussed, she handed him back and asked that he be taken from the room.

She made no mention of Marshall until one morning in November, when he appeared in the doorway of her bedroom. I was
removing pins from Miss Martha’s hair, and Mama was straightening the bed.

“Hello, Marshall,” his mother greeted him, sounding genuinely happy to see him. “Goodness,” she added more soberly, “you’ve… grown so tall.”

At thirteen, he was lanky, and his arms hung much longer than his sleeves. But dark circles shadowed his intense blue eyes; and his hair was chopped close to his head unevenly, as though he might have done the deed himself without benefit of a mirror. He closed the door quickly. “Mother,” he said, approaching her swiftly, “I want to stop.”

“Stop what, dear?” she asked.

“My studies.” He glanced back at the door.

“Oh, Marshall,” she said, “you know you must study. Your father has hired the ahh… Mr.… Ahhh…”

“Waters!” Marshall whispered fiercely. “His name is Waters!”