The Kitchen House (36 page)

“Will is bound to do something soon,” I said to reassure the both of us. “Surely he won’t let Marshall keep his son.”

Mama looked at me sharply. “What you say?”

“Will Stephens. If I know him at all, he’ll fight for his boy.”

Mama’s eyes narrowed. “What you mean?” She frowned and looked at me disbelievingly. “You mean you thinkin’ …” She stopped short when Marshall appeared at the door. He wasted no time but came directly over to me and grasped my arm.

“Well,” he said, “I see you’ve recovered.” He glanced at Sukey and the still-sleeping Jamie, then glared at Mama. “What foolishness were you talking about with my wife?”

Mama dropped her head, but not before I saw her fear. “Masta Marshall,” she said, “I don’t know nothin’ ’bout foolish talk.”

Marshall twisted my arm painfully as he drew me from the kitchen. He turned back to Mama. “I’ll sell anybody who brings talk like that up to the big house.”

My arm burned. “Marshall! You’re hurting me,” I said, trying to pull free. I looked to Mama for help, but her eyes were down, and I saw for the first time the true extent of her helplessness.

W
E WERE BUT A FEW
months into our marriage, and already I knew how troubled it was. Desperate to right things, I doubled my efforts to gain Marshall’s goodwill. When I was with my husband, I gave the appearance of being unmindful to anyone but him. I no longer spoke openly to anyone but waited for stolen moments to catch up with the latest news or to hear of a small need that I might be able to satisfy. It was Beattie I felt closest to; she best understood my dilemma, as she witnessed it daily in the dining room. Fanny mostly saw to the care of Miss Martha, and though I knew she cared, she remained distant from me.

Jamie stayed down in the kitchen house, and my beloved Sukey was often needed there to care for him. I dared not go down to see for myself, but soon I heard of everyone’s concern. Beattie confided that Jamie had always been uncommonly attached to Belle. Now, she said, without her, he was becoming increasingly withdrawn.

I feigned indifference when I learned from my husband that Will Stephens had filed papers in court in an attempt to take the child back. Privately, I feared that Marshall’s knowledge of the law
would enable him to win the battle. I could only imagine Belle’s despair. I longed to ease it, to send her words of relief, but I knew how tenuous the situation was, and I certainly knew that I was not in a position to make a bid for the release of her child.

I was not surprised when Rankin was again brought on as overseer. His attitude toward me while in Marshall’s presence was just short of simpering. Away from my husband, however, he let me know that he considered me of little consequence.

I encouraged Marshall to speak to me of the farm, to tell me his plans for the future. One day he informed me that he and Rankin had decided to move away from the diversification of crops, a method Will Stephens had incorporated, and go back to growing only tobacco. In my eagerness to show my interest, I made a mistake and asked if he was not concerned that continued growth of the same crop might not deplete the soil. Marshall instantly became outraged and accused me of defending Will Stephens and his way of doing things. That was not the first time I saw Marshall’s jealousy, and I began to wonder if, back in Williamsburg, he had guessed my feelings for Will. I reassured Marshall of my loyalty to him, but he ended the conversation by telling me to mind the household and leave the business to him. Knowing I had reached an impasse, I agreed. Following that, I kept my conversations with Marshall light and superficial.

W
ITH HER SCHEDULED DOSES OF
laudanum, Miss Martha’s days were now routine. What for me was tedious provided structure and balance for her. Mama encouraged her to walk, and though she tired easily, in time she became steadier on her feet.

Mama, Fanny, and Sukey shared in her care, and I fell into a daily habit of coming to see her first thing in the morning and again in the late afternoon. I continued to read to her and at other times sat at her bedside doing my needlework. Miss Martha now spoke, sometimes even using full sentences, though her mind only hovered in reality. I remained Isabelle to her, and it was I who most easily calmed her when she grew agitated.

We had been home a few months when the doctor made a routine visit to see Miss Martha. I remembered Dr. Mense well from my earlier years; he was the same doctor who had treated both the captain during his illness and Miss Martha before she left for Williamsburg. Since I had last seen him, his hair had gone a snowy white. If he remembered me, or if he had misgivings about my new position, he did not show it. After his examination, “Continue on with what you are doing” was his instruction to me, although Mama Mae and Fanny were both present.

Since dinner was about to be served, I invited Dr. Mense to stay, and he readily accepted. When Marshall joined us, although he looked surprised to see our guest, he did not appear unhappy. As we dined, Dr. Mense reported his findings to Marshall. Though Marshall had not paid a visit to his mother since our arrival, he gave the impression that he was involved and up to date on Miss Martha’s condition. He thanked the doctor and made it clear that he gave all the credit to me for his mother’s improved state. When he spoke of his appreciation, his eyes rested on me, but I was no longer certain of his sincerity.

Belle

M
ARSHALL KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING
when he takes my boy. You take a baby from a mama, there’s nothing more you can do to her.

Will Stephens says he’ll do everything he can to get Jamie back. He says, “Whatever you do, Belle, don’t go back there. He’s waiting for you. If you are on Marshall’s property, I can’t protect you the same way I can if you are here.”

My mind don’t move. It just sits there. All I can see is my Jamie screaming. Two days, two nights, I don’t cry, I don’t talk.

When Ben comes, he says, “Belle, don’t worry. You know Mama takin’ good care of Jamie.”

I just look at Ben. I don’t say nothing, because if I do, I say, “What do you know? You still got your two boys! Maybe you give one of your boys to Marshall so I can get my Jamie back?” But I don’t say nothing. I just tell him to go away.

Then Lucy comes. First time she’s here in my kitchen house. “Belle,” she says, “I know you and me, we each got a side of Ben, pullin’ on him. But here, at Will Stephens’s place, you and me got to work to get along. I know what Jamie is to you. You take my boys, same as takin’ my life. I come here to let you know I stand alongside you now.”

Lucy’s big like Mama, and when she puts her arms around me, I start to cry. I cry for Jamie. Then I cry for Mama and for Papa, too. I cry for my kitchen house, I even cry for the cap’n. “Everything’s gone,” I say. “Everything’s gone.”

“No,” Lucy says, “Jamie still here. So is Mama and Papa. They just livin’ on the other side of the trees. You got to stand up, Belle.
For sure your boy comin’ back, and when he do, he needin’ you strong.”

At dark, Ben comes to see me again. He says Lucy sends him to me. She tells him that I need him. Maybe all this time I got Lucy wrong.

That same night Papa comes, following the creek. He comes fast, puffing and having to sit before he can talk.

Ben says, “Papa, next time there’s news, maybe you oughta send Ida’s boy, Eddy. He know the way, and he get caught, he know how to keep his mouth shut.”

Papa says, “Son, you say I’m gettin’ too old to get over here?”

Ben says, “Papa, I’m sayin’ . . . well, yup, I guess I’m sayin’ you gettin’ old.”

They laugh like old friends. Papa says, “Belle, Jamie doin’ just fine. Everybody watchin’ over him. Marshall don’t have nothin’ to do with him. Beattie now livin’ in the kitchen house, and she keep Sukey and Jamie with her. Everybody watchin’ out for Jamie.” Papa look down, fool with his hands, then say, “But Rankin back. Down at the quarters, they all tryin’ to stay one step ahead of that debil. And Abinia got her own trouble up at the big house. Marshall drinkin’ real hard.”

After Papa tells me that Jamie’s doing all right, I settle some. I’m gonna wait to see how things go. For sure, though, if Jamie don’t come back, I’ll go get him myself, then I’ll take him and run.

Next day I get back to work and get this kitchen house set up. Ben and Lucy got their own cabin, and they’re both gonna work the fields. Will Stephens is building a big house. Maybe when he’s done, I’ll ask Will if Lucy can work the big house with me.

I work hard, then after a week, I can’t take no more and go to see my boy. I follow the water up, go past the quarters, and stay down in the trees. Sure enough, there’s my four-year-old boy, sitting out by the kitchen house, looking around like he’s wanting his mama. I bite my own hand so I don’t call, “Jamie, Jamie, I’m here,” but right then Sukey comes out to give him something to drink. She’s playing with him when I see Marshall over at the horse
barn. Sukey sees him, too, and real quick she takes Jamie into the kitchen house and closes the door.

Going home, I can hardly walk for crying. But then I remember something. I know where Papa keeps the gun down in the barn, and I know where he keeps the key. That settles me. Marshall does anything to my boy, BAM! he’s good as dead.

Lavinia

I
TAKE FULL RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE
relationship that developed between Miss Martha and Belle’s son, Jamie. I gave my permission the day Sukey asked if she might bring Jamie with her to the big house. She suggested he play in the blue room while she assisted me in caring for the mistress.

It was August 1802. I had not yet been married a full year, but both Mama and I suspected I was already with child. While the others did the harvesting of the garden that autumn, I stayed in the big house and took on more responsibility in caring for Miss Martha. I requested to have Sukey there to help me. Since my arrival, she had been the one I depended on. She was the one who loved me as before. Try as I might, I could not get back the friendship with Fanny or Beattie that I once had. I continued to make friendly overtures, but the twins kept a distance. I tried in every way I knew how to show I had not changed, that I considered them my equals, but it was obvious since my return that they saw me in a different light. I was terribly lonely and was so grateful for Sukey’s friendship that I did everything I could to accommodate her. She rewarded me with unfailing loyalty.

“Miss Abinia, he so sad,” Sukey said about Jamie. Her large dark eyes were sorrowful. “He just sittin’ there when I up here.”

“Bring him along, then,” I told Sukey. “We’ll take some playthings from the nursery to keep him occupied in the blue room.”

It had been almost nine months since his capture, and both Beattie and Mama had expressed their concern about Jamie’s deepening retreat into himself. He spoke little, and what distressed them most was that he refused any comfort from the
family. “He blamin’ us, thinkin’ that we keepin’ him from his mama,” Beattie said.

Will Stephens had been unsuccessful in his legal fight to reunite Belle with her son, and Marshall was jubilant the day he won possession. I made one attempt to discuss Jamie’s release with Marshall. The vehement anger that he expressed at my request made obvious that any intercession on my part was not only hopeless but, if continued, might draw attention to the boy, who Marshall, on the whole, disregarded.

By now I fully understood the position I was in as Marshall’s wife. I had discovered what my family had known all along: Pretense of ignorance could serve me well. I learned to not react, nor to give my opinion but, with a smile or a nod, suggest agreement with all of Marshall’s plans. I became guarded and no longer spoke about my true feelings.

When I allowed Jamie in the big house, I gave little thought to Marshall learning of this. He never visited his mother, and the only times he ventured upstairs were on the increasingly infrequent nights when he came to my room.