The Kitchen House (23 page)

The cap’n looks like he’s having trouble getting air. When he talks again, he says he’ll give the free papers to Jamie, but then I got to go to Philadelphia. I say all right, I’ll go, but I tell him I’m still needing my own papers, too. He’s thinking I have them, but I say no, I never do get them. “Come back in the morning,” he says, “I’ll have the lawyer here and the papers drawn up.”

Then last night Mama comes running for Ben to get the doctor, but the cap’n’s gone before they get back.

I don’t have time for crying, only time for wondering what’s gonna happen now. Mama’s right. Now Marshall’s gonna be the master. I got to get me and Jamie outta here. I don’t know where I’m going, I just know that I got to get out before Marshall’s heading back.

When everybody’s working up at the big house, getting ready to bury the cap’n, I take the best knife in my kitchen house, wrap it good, then get busy and tie up everything I can carry. Tonight I’m gonna take Jamie and run. First I’m thinking to take Lavinia, but I know that she won’t go without Sukey.

I wait until nobody’s around, then I run down to hide my pack behind the springhouse. I don’t see Ben following me. When he comes around the corner, he scares me so bad I start hitting him. He holds me back, but that makes me hit him more.

“Don’t, baby, don’t hit me,” he says, and I say, “Don’t you call me no baby,” but he says, “Belle, you always my baby, don’t you know that? I take care of you like you my own.”

Then I get mad! My mouth won’t stop. “You take care of me! When do you do that? That time Rankin and his men was throwing me around in the kitchen? Or I guess you was taking care of me when Rankin was holding me down and Marshall was on me? Or … no … no! That’s right! You was taking care of me every night when you was on your Lucy!”

Ben lets go of me. He looks at me, and his big eyes tell me the words I use are cutting in. He backs away from me, holding up his hands to stop my talking. “You right,” he says, “you right.” When he starts to cry, all the fight goes out of me.

“Oh, Benny,” I say, “I’m just saying words. They’re not the truth.”

But he keeps shaking his head, saying, “No. No. You right, Belle. I don’t help you. I never do help you.”

I go to Ben, take my skirt, and clean away the water coming from his eyes, but he can’t stop crying. “I’m sorry, Benny,” I say, “I’m sorry for saying all that.” I touch his mouth with my finger. “Shhh,” I say. “Shhh.” He moans deep and loud, and he pulls me to him. When we start to kiss, we both don’t care to stop no more.

T
HAT NIGHT
I
GET WITH
Ben again. He tells me to stay until we see what Will Stephens has to say. Ben says he’s gonna run with me if Marshall’s coming back.

Lavinia

T
HE CAPTAIN WAS BURIED BEFORE
Miss Martha’s sister and her husband arrived from Williamsburg. In view of Miss Martha’s condition, the doctor took it upon himself to decide on a fast and simple burial service. Only a few carriages arrived from other places, but all of us from the plantation were there. All, that is, but Miss Martha and Marshall, who, for reasons unknown to me, remained in Williamsburg.

After Mr. and Mrs. Madden arrived, there followed a busy week. When Miss Sarah came to her sister’s room, she often found me attending to Miss Martha. I remembered her from her Christmas visit, and my first opinion was not much changed. It continued to astound me to see how different she was from her sister. Though under these circumstances she was solemn, her eyes were lively and quick. Miss Sarah’s face was plump, as was her body, but I was to learn that her soft appearance belied her determination. As she took charge, she left no doubt that she was indeed capable of overseeing a household. In the first few days, she said little as she observed us in our daily care of Miss Martha. Then one day she addressed me. “Marshall told me how good you are to his mother. Now I see for myself how she relies on you.”

“She likes me to read to her,” I said.

“And who taught you to read?” she asked.

I intuitively knew not to include Belle. “Miss Martha,” I said, “before she got so sick.”

“And would you like to continue to learn?” she asked kindly.

“Oh yes,” I said innocently.

Later in the week, she asked for my help as she sorted through
her sister’s clothes. I indicated Miss Martha’s favorite dresses and also the shoes she preferred, pointing out those that pinched her toes. Somehow I did not guess that we were packing for an upcoming departure.

Mr. Madden, a lawyer, was executor of his brother-in-law’s will. Papa George and Will Stephens met frequently with Mr. Madden, and finally, on Friday, all of the big-house people were called to the library. Mr. Madden spoke first. Master Marshall, he said, had inherited the plantation and all that went with it. However, it was the captain’s wish that Mr. Madden maintain control until Marshall’s twenty-second birthday. That, he informed us, would be five years hence. Meanwhile, Master Marshall was to continue his studies in Williamsburg, where he planned to attend the College of William and Mary to study law. The house and farm staff would maintain the property until Master Marshall’s return. Will Stephens, now the farm manager, would be in charge.

When Miss Sarah spoke next, she told us that Miss Martha was returning with them to Williamsburg. There she would be admitted to a noted hospital where patients with disorders such as Miss Martha’s were often treated successfully. Miss Sarah felt certain they could help her sister. Also, Miss Martha would benefit from being near her son in Williamsburg.

I was surprised, then alarmed, when I was asked to stay after the meeting ended. I nervously looked back at Mama and Belle as they left. Belle looked as though she was about to cry, but Mama gave me a reassuring nod.

Mr. Madden, as rotund as his wife, sat at the desk and peered through his eyeglasses at the papers before him. After the room had cleared, Miss Sarah coughed to get her husband’s attention. He looked up. “Oh,” he said, as though surprised to see me. “So you’re Lavinia? I’ve been looking at your papers. Apparently, you’ll be coming with us.”

I must have shown my shock, for Miss Sarah took my hand and sat me in a chair. Then I connected Mr. Madden’s words to the conversation I had overheard some nights before. That evening I
woke to the sound of Belle’s voice from downstairs. I glanced over to check on baby James, who was sleeping soundly in the sturdy cradle Papa George had made for him. Sukey was asleep beside me, and I leaned over to kiss her round face as I got up. Before I reached the bottom step, I saw the kitchen door standing open. For some reason, I stopped when I heard Mama’s voice coming from the outdoors. It was the end of May, and the evening was warm; I thought how pleasant it must be for her and Belle to sit and enjoy the night air.

“But what if she don’t want to go?” Belle said.

“This a good chance for her,” Mama said.

It was Will’s voice I heard next. “It’s quite an opportunity, Belle. They are good people, and they will give her an education.”

In a flood of anger on hearing Will’s voice, I rushed back up the stairs. It remained my belief that Will was the father of Belle’s baby, and I could hardly keep my jealousy contained. But this was the first time I had heard them together at night, and my anger burned so fiercely that I lost interest in their conversation.

Now, in the library with the Maddens, I understood that they had been speaking of me.

“Lavinia.” Miss Sarah took the paper from her husband. “You are already thirteen years of age, and in light of the fact that you have only a few years left to serve this household, we’ve decided to take you with us.”

I nodded, although I knew little of my indentureship. Nothing specific had ever been laid out for me, and the truth was, I hadn’t thought to ask for a better definition.

“I have watched you with Miss Martha, and I see how she cares for you.”

I nodded again, numbed by my fear.

“We want you to come with us to Williamsburg. When Miss Martha is well again, you will serve her. Until then you will live with us. We have agreed,” she said, glancing back for her husband’s approval, “that you can study with the tutor who comes to teach our daughter.”

I was silent.

“We are prepared to bring you to our home, to give you every advantage for your future.”

The roaring in my ears prevented me from hearing further, and eventually, Miss Sarah sent me upstairs to resume my duties.

Beattie waited there, and from the way she observed me, I guessed she already knew of my upcoming departure. My feelings of betrayal were so acute that I refused to speak to her or to anyone else for the rest of that day. I planned to avoid everyone until I had to leave.

I became angrier still the following day when Mama had me sit with Miss Martha for much of the morning, then late into the afternoon. Fanny was caring for the needs of Mr. Madden and Miss Sarah, while Beattie and Mama were curiously absent from the big house. Uncle Jacob came to see me while Miss Martha slept, but I refused to speak to him. “Allah be with you,” he said after I shrugged his comforting hand off of my shoulder. When he left, I kicked out at the air, furious with him and his Allah.

After Miss Martha finished an early supper, Miss Sarah came and gave me a small leather trunk, instructing me to take it to the kitchen house and pack my belongings.

I knew that I had little to pack, and when I told her that I would not need a trunk of this size, she smiled and told me to take it anyway.

The kitchen house was empty. Belle had not set out my usual supper, and that was almost more than I could bear. I believed then she had already forgotten me. Desolate, I went upstairs to pack, thumping the small trunk behind me.

There, to my amazement, I saw two of Miss Martha’s dresses draped across Belle’s bed. As I approached to look more carefully, Fanny and Beattie jumped up. “We help Mama get them ready for you!” they shouted. Together they ran at me and began to undress me, insisting that I try on the new dresses. As they did so, they told me how Miss Sarah had given Mama two of Miss Martha’s day dresses, with instructions to cut them down for me. Fanny, closest
to my size, had filled in for me so I would have a surprise. After I stepped into the pale blue calico, Fanny fastened the front buttons while Beattie pulled a folded blue ribbon from her pocket. She unfastened my braids and brushed free my long hair, then pulled some strands back from my face to tie them with the ribbon. They took my hands and, giggling, refused to tell me why they were leading me down to the quarters.

A bonfire was roaring. Food was lined up on makeshift tables; a feast had been prepared. There was clapping when I appeared with the girls, and it was then I understood that the party was for me. Belle came first to hug me, then Mama and Papa, followed by Ben and Lucy. Finally, Ida, along with all the adults and children who had been my church companions, came over to wish me well. I looked around in wonder to think that so many cared for me. How could I bear to leave them?

When the food was served, I was afraid to eat for fear of soiling my new dress. Ida recognized my dilemma, went to her cabin, and returned with a clean cloth that she carefully draped over my lap before handing me back my bowl. My eyes filled at her concern, and I longed for her to hold me, to tell me that a mistake had been made and I did not have to go away. All evening I fought tears. When the music began, Papa took me as his partner for the opening dance. As we circled, I looked out at the smiling faces and could not believe that I was leaving everyone in the morning. Then Will came to me for a dance. His thick straight hair fell forward when he nodded, and he pushed it back before he reached for my hand. Beattie giggled, and Fanny poked me in the back as I rose to dance with him. While we danced, I refused his gaze, but he began to tease me, and it wasn’t long before I laughingly sassed back. When the dance ended, Will returned me to Belle and the twins. “Don’t forget, Lavinia,” he said, “you said you’d be my girl. I’ll be waiting for you.”

I turned away, angry at him for daring to joke like that in front of Belle. I was happy when Mama said it was time to leave.

My family further surprised me when they all gathered at the
kitchen house and each presented me with a gift. Ben gave me a small forged trivet in the shape of a bird. Mama had woven a basket; inside was Beattie’s contribution of three wild turkey quills. They had been boiled, their membranes stripped, the nibs pointed, and were ready for writing. Some black walnuts were included, and Belle gave me instructions on how to boil them down for ink. Fanny presented a small pouch that held two coins.

“Fanny get those from the cap’n.” Beattie said proudly of her sister.

Belle gave me her prized silver hand mirror, and when I attempted to give it back, she insisted I take it and asked me to think of her whenever I used it. Papa handed me a small wooden chick he had carved. “You know what this mean,” he said, and I choked back tears, remembering our long-ago conversation when he had told me that he would be my papa.