The Kitchen House (14 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Grissom

Tags: #Historical, #Adult, #Azizex666, #Contemporary

BOOK: The Kitchen House
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Belle laughed softly. “Surely a man like you can finish that little bit you have left in your cup so I can pour you another drink?”

Rankin preened. “Looks to me like a hard day’s work agrees with you.”

“That and a little bit a this,” she said, holding the bottle to her, smiling.

He emptied his mug, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and held the cup out for Belle. “I think maybe I will try some
of that,” he said, watching her carefully as she tipped the bottle and poured him a generous amount.

“Won’t you sit?” Belle asked. “Girls,” she said, addressing Beattie and me, “it’s time for you to go out and dance.”

I hesitated, but Belle gave me a look that was not to be disobeyed. We went to join Fanny, but I kept one eye on the kitchen house, hoping to catch sight of Belle. When I saw Rankin close the door, shutting Belle in with him, I had all I could do to keep myself from running back to her.

I watched, and it seemed like forever before the door opened again. When it did, Belle came out, leading Rankin by one of his dirty hands. “Come back in the house,” he whined. He swayed as Belle enticed him to dance.

“Just one dance, then we’ll go back in,” she promised. When he protested, Belle lifted her skirts and began to sway. The other dancers stepped back as Rankin unsteadily reached for her. Belle whirled away. Spittle drooled from his mouth as he stumbled after her, but again and again she moved out of his reach. He took a final drink before his cup dropped and he fell forward. Papa immediately headed for the big house.

The music had ceased, but Belle couldn’t seem to stop herself from twirling. Round and round she went, until Ida went to her and caught her in her arms. Ida was a tall woman, and Belle looked like a child when she pressed her face against Ida’s thin chest. Belle’s back was heaving as Ida spoke low in her ear, “He down, honey. He down. He ain’t gonna get you.”

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

 

Belle

I
N ONE NIGHT
I
SEE
trouble like I never did see before. I no sooner get out of Rankin’s clutches than Mama’s needing me up at the big house. Here’s what happened: Waters goes after Dory and now he’s a dead man. Ben sees to that. And now the privy behind Mama’s house got something in there that nobody’s gonna talk about. We work fast, Mama, Uncle Jacob, and me, to clean out that tutor’s room. I don’t know who’s more scared. Anybody finds out what happened here, we’re all good as dead. We work all night, then just before morning, before I go back to the kitchen house, Mama tells me to write a letter to the cap’n. I have to make it look like it come from Waters, saying that he got to go. I use my dictionary, and before I’m done, I write down his name just like it is on the paper we find in his room.

Then I tell her we got to make a seal, like the cap’n do. I show Mama how to put the burning candle under the wax that I’m holding over the paper, but she’s so tired and scared and shaking so hard that she gets my finger.

“Ouch!” I say. “You getting too close with that fire.”

“You movin’,” Mama says.

“I don’t move, you’re moving,” I say.

“Hold still,” Mama says, but when I see her coming again with the candle and her hand’s still shaking, I know she’s gonna burn me again, and I start to laugh.

“Don’t start laughin’ now,” Mama says, then we both get started. Mama got to put the candle down, she’s laughing so hard, and I’m doing just like her.

That’s when Uncle Jacob came into the room. “Jimmy back,” he
says. “Jimmy say that horse crazy like Waters. He say he don’t need no whip to send that horse off runnin’. He say it a long time before they find that tutor’s horse.”

“Dory pick a good man,” Mama says, trying not to laugh, ’cause Uncle’s looking at us funny. Mama gets up and gives the candle to Uncle Jacob. “You best help Belle finish up here,” she say. “I gonna look over that room one last time to see that it cleaned out. Then I see that Papa and Ben get that fire cleaned up. Papa say anything left, he push it down the privy.”

“How he gonna make it stay down?” I ask, then I snort like a horse, and Mama has to sit again, she’s laughing so hard. The more Uncle look at us, the more we carry on.

“Womens,” he say, shaking his head.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

 

Lavinia

B
ELLE WAS SO EDGY AND
distracted the morning after the hog killing that had I not reminded her, she would have forgotten to give me something to eat before she sent me up to the big house. Dory, too, jumped when I opened the door to the blue room, but in turn, I gasped when I saw her. Her right eye was puffed and circled in purple, and her top lip was swollen and bruised. She turned her face from my inspection and sharply directed me into Miss Martha’s bedroom.

The minute I came in, Mama excused herself, saying she would be back within the hour. Miss Martha sat propped up in bed, her morning care already completed. Alone with her, I felt shy. I remained back a distance from the bed while she studied me. “Hello, Isabelle,” she said. Unexpectedly, she added, “Would you bring Sally to me?”

I looked back for Mama, though I knew she had already left. My legs went weak with apprehension, but seeing no alternative, I moved closer to the bed. I met Miss Martha’s eyes, took a deep breath, and said in a loud whisper, “No, I can’t. She fell off the swing.”

The pale woman inhaled deeply and covered her face with her hands. I was about to run for Mama when Miss Martha looked at me again, her green eyes dark with suffering. “I keep hoping it’s a dream,” she said, “a terrible dream.”

“My name isn’t Isabelle,” I said, hoping to distract her.

When she looked away from me, I feared I had said the wrong thing, but when she faced me again, she smiled. “I know, dear, but
please indulge me. You remind me of my sister, and it gives me such comfort to use her name.”

Certainly I understood, having named Campbell for that very reason. “It’s all right if you call me Isabelle,” I said.

She reached for my hand. “I know I must get strong again, I must get out of this room, but it all seems so pointless.” She looked at me, searching my eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

I remembered Uncle Jacob’s wisdom. “You can give it to Allah,” I said.

“Allah?” she asked. “Who is Allah?”

“That’s another name for the Lawd.” I said. “Mama says Miss Sally is playing with my ma and that the good Lawd is watching over both of them.”

Miss Martha looked at me curiously, then patted the bed. “Come sit by me,” she invited, and I did so. “How did you become so wise?”

I shrugged.

She fingered my braids for a minute. “How is the baby?” she asked.

“Do you want me to get him?” I asked hopefully.

She shook her head. “Not right now,” she said. Sensing my disappointment, she added, “Maybe later.”

I nodded, and we sat together in silence.

“Could you read to me?” she finally asked.

“I can’t read,” I said.

She looked taken aback. “Then I shall have to teach you.”

She had just opened a book when we heard Mama’s loud voice from the blue room. “I go to her first! She a lady and don’t want no man in her room ’less she say so!”

“You make sure she knows I’m out here to see her on business.” My neck went prickly at the sound of Rankin’s voice.

Mama came into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She came over to Miss Martha, leaned close to her, and whispered that the overseer was here. “He think he the masta, the way he
goin’ through this house. He say you just a pitiful sick woman and that he the boss of this place till the cap’n get home.”

Miss Martha raised her eyebrows, and her cheeks colored. “Going through my house? He called me pitiful? How dare he!”

“That man out there thinkin’ he runnin’ your house. You gonna see him?”

“Yes, I most certainly will!”

Mama went toward the blue room, but Miss Martha called her back. “Mae. We’re not in a rush. Could you give me my hand mirror?”

Mama came back to do as she was asked.

Miss Martha removed her bed cap and handed it to Mama. “Now give me my brush,” she said, and had me hold the mirror for her while she arranged red curls around her shoulders. She pinched her cheeks and blinked in wide exaggeration, then looked up to see me staring at her transformation. I flushed when she smiled at me.

Mama glanced nervously back toward the door.

“Mae,” Miss Martha said, “you sit in the chair. Isabelle, would you please open the door for Mr. Rankin?”

I went to the door, but as I opened it, Mama called for me to wait. She went over to the chamber pot and pushed it under the bed, then pulled an undergarment off another chair and quickly put it away. Meanwhile, through the slightly opened door, I observed Rankin standing next to Dory in the blue room. “Who hit you in the face?” he asked.

“Nobody. I fell,” Dory said quickly.

“You fell?” he said, looking her over carefully. “You sure you fell?” When Dory, clearly petrified, didn’t respond, he continued, “You sure a purty little thing.” He laughed. “It looks to me like you have plenty of milk for those two babies.” He paused. “What do they call you again?”

“Miss Dory,” Dory said with defiance.

“Miss Dory! My, my, my! We sure have some uppity folks in this big house, don’t we?”

At Mama’s wave, I pushed open the door and nodded to Rankin that he was to enter. He leaned down to Dory’s ear before he left her. “You know Mr. Rankin always looking out for the pretty gals.” He strode confidently into the bedroom. His appearance hadn’t improved any, and an unclean smell trailed him. He carried a document.

“Mr. Rankin?” The tone of the mistress’s voice stopped him from a closer approach. He looked surprised to see Mama Mae sitting in a chair.

“Well, now, Miss Martha,” he addressed her after a slight hesitation, “it sure is nice to see you looking so good.”

“Yes,” she replied. “As you can see, I’m feeling very well.”

His dirty hands fidgeted with the paper he held.

“How can I help you?” the mistress asked.

“This says that Waters has left.” He approached her and handed over the document.

She took it and examined the broken seal. “This is addressed to the captain,” she said.

“Yes, well, with things being… with you being…”

She held up her hand to quiet him while she read the document. “So. Mr. Waters has left?” she asked, refolding the paper.

“Yes. Yes. His belongings are gone, and it seems he took his horse, but I’m not sure…”

“Not sure of what, Mr. Rankin?” Miss Martha asked.

“Well now, he didn’t tell me that he was going to leave,” said Rankin.

“And why would he do that?” she asked.

He seemed at a loss for words.

“As I see it, Mr. Rankin, this is a matter for my husband. He is due back any day now. I shall let this matter rest until his return. I do thank you for your concern, but as you can see, I am quite capable of handling the house and its affairs.”

“Well, I am only trying to do my job,” Rankin said. “When he left, the cap’n asked me to look after the place. He didn’t tell me I’d be answering to his wife, but I suppose—”

Miss Martha’s tone turned frigid. “Mr. Rankin, do not let me keep you from your other duties.”

The man bowed foolishly before he headed toward the door. As he left the blue room, he stopped beside Dory, who had finished with Campbell and was now feeding Sukey. On his approach, she quickly covered her breast. He stood over her for a minute, then he reached down and pinched the baby’s face. Sukey cried out, and when Dory pushed away his hand, he grabbed her wrist and held it viselike while staring into her eyes. Finally, with a coarse laugh, he released her, then left, leaving Dory to soothe herself and her baby.

From behind me I heard Miss Martha tell Mama that, as of today, Miss Martha would begin to take more exercise.

L
ATER, AFTER THE MIDDAY MEAL,
Miss Martha rested, and I sat with Campbell while Dory went for her dinner. The baby was awake, so I picked him up and cuddled him while humming one of Mama’s songs. Marshall poked his head in the doorway. His eyes were lidded, and he appeared half asleep from the opium Mama had dosed him with the night before. “Why is Waters’s room cleaned out? Do you know where he is?” he whispered to me.

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