Easter looked up and saw that the woman standing next to the stern man
was glaring at him and smiling at her, all at once.
"An' no wonder, yo' starin' at her like yo' stare at me when I done
summat' wrong. Here, girl, Easter, ain't it?"
The woman helped her up. "I's Gracie," she said. "An' I's the one done
fixin' to marry this gristly ol' turkey."
Everyone laughed, and suddenly Easter wasn't shy anymore. "Yo' stan' by
me," said Gracie, "and help me 'member the names a all these folk I ain't
never met and ain't evuh gwine meet again."
Easter was happy. She had a job to do; she wouldn't be left on her own
as she had been at most of the other parties. She stood beside Gracie,
glowing. If she wasn't exactly mistress of the mansion, she was in a
position of some eminence.
Alfred looked at her approvingly. "Chile's pretty," he said again to
Cap'n Jack. "An' you stan' by me, Cap'n Jack, yo' my bes' man. "
Having been received, the guests assembled on the lawn. There were long
tables set out, groaning with food and punch, at one end, for the whites,
and other long tables, complaining rather than groaning, and with lemonade
not punch, at the other end, for the blacks.
There was one band, but two dancing areas. The fiddlers struck up a tune,
and the whites danced with the whites, the blacks danced with the blacks.
Jass looked for Lizzie, who seemed to dance with every young man but him.
Easter kept her eyes on Jass. Sally sat with Mrs. Perkins and some other
friends on the sidelines, while James mingled with his many business
associates.
After an hour or so, the band took a break, and the slave choir assembled
to sing spirituals for the guests while they ate.
MERGING 277
Listening to the sweet music as he was helping himself to some food,
something puzzled Jass. It was silly that niggers don't have souls, he
thought, yet they're encouraged to sing about heaven. But he was hungry,
and the smell of spit-roasted hog distracted him.
Easter was in line at the black table, piling her plate with food. Or
rather, she was a fixture at the black table because she was bored again
and the food tasted wonderful and eating helped pass the time. She was also
enchanted by some of the conversations around her.
"Why, this sho' am beautiful," said an elegantly dressed slave. "Sweetest
chicken I evuh et," said another. Easter giggled, and suddenly she longed
to be at home, in her simple house with her simple friends. This world was
too complicated for her.
"Ain't this the prettiest night?" she heard someone say, and knew who it
was. Eyes wide, mouth full, she turned to Reuben.
"But not as pretty as you," he said, and winked at her. Easter was shocked,
not because he winked but because he winked at her. Surely he didn't think
she was pretty?
"Don't believe I evuh heard yo' name?" He really was very handsome, Easter
decided.
"My name is Easter," she said, in fair imitation of Lizzie. "And I am with
the Jacksons."
"My, my," Reuben said, suitably impressed. "The Nashville Jacksons, of
course?"
"Why, no," she said, pleased with herself. "Massa James Jackson of Alabama
is my Massa, and I think I hear my Missy callin' me now."
She walked away, feeling that she'd handled him a lot better this time, and
went looking for Jass.
Who was looking at Lizzie. Sitting in a little arbor, surrounded by
enthusiastic young men of Jass's age, Lizzie looked wonderful. She seemed to
have grown up a little over the summer, and had taken particular care with
her dress for this occasion, palest blue, like her eyes, with elegant frills
in flowing muslin. She was handling her beaux with great aplomb, and Jass
decided he would not give her the pearls. They were not good
278 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
enough. That lovely neck demanded emeralds or rubies at least, if not
diamonds.
"I declare, Miss Lizzie, you grow more lovely every time I see you," a
pimply young man said to her.
"Why, thank you, Chester. You must be nearly old enough to shave by now."
Lizzie simpered like lemon.
Chester blushed, and the others laughed. Another young man stepped up to
her execution block.
"I've been shaving for years now, Miss Lizzie," he said in his deepest
voice.
"Then you should try to grow a mustache, Anthony," Lizzie purred. "it
might make you look a little older."
The others laughed at Anthony now, led by Chester. Lizzie looked around
for another victim and saw Jass.
"Is that the Jackson boy I see over there?"
Jass sprang forward. "Yes, Miss Lizzie," he offered.
"Fetch me a little more chicken," Lizzie hardly looked at him, and waved
her empty plate in the air. Jass grabbed it.
"I'd be delighted, Miss Lizzie, if you'll save a place for me on your
dance card tomorrow." Jass had decided to bargain.
"Why, sir, I told you, my card is full." Lizzie was better at haggling,
and sighed and looked helpless. "But I would die for a little more
chicken."
Jass had no counteroffer, and capitulated. "Right away, Miss Lizzie," he
said, and turned toward the food table.
"An uppity boy, but useful," Lizzie told her swains, and they all laughed
at Jass now.
As Jass piled chicken on Lizzie's plate, Easter, who had overheard
Lizzie's last remark, sidled up to him.
"Why yo' wastin' yo' time with her?" she demanded. "She's jus' playin'
with yo', laughing at yo'."
Jass looked at her, and, his vision blurred by the heady company, he saw
only a bothersome slave girl in a cheap frock. She had no place in this
world, his world. She had no idea of the complex forces that were driving
him to a friendship, at least, with Lizzie, and perhaps something more.
How could he make her understand? He didn't understand it all himself.
"Keep your place, Easter," he told her sharply. "You're too young, you
wouldn't understand."
MERGING 279
He walked away. If they'd been in the weaving house, Easter might have hit
him, or at least put a double dose of iodine on his cuts, but they were
here, in public, and anyway, things had changed between them. She had
never seen that look in his eyes before, and it frightened her, because
she saw she was irrelevant to him. She had been reminded, by him, of her
true place in his life, and it hurt.
The band had started to play again, and couples were dancing. Easter
wandered on the edge of it, longing for some young man, preferably Jass,
to come along and sweep her onto the dance floor. A young man did, but
it wasn't Jass.
"May I have the honor?" Reuben asked, offering his arm. Easter hesitated
for only a moment.
"Why, suh, I believe yo' may," she said, and smiled her most dazzling
smile. He led her onto the dance floor, and they danced
and danced, and
Easter put aside her cares and had a wonderful time, although she had on
one occasion to tell Reuben very sharply to keep his hands where they
belonged. But she could not rid her mind of Jass.
Almost everybody had a good time that night, except James. He had been in
a party mood, looking forward to an evening of fun and laughter, a little
too much to drink, a few dances with Sally, and good talk with friends and
associates.
He'd had fun at the beginning, and laughed a good deal. He'd danced with
Sally and had drunk a little too much. Perhaps because of the drink, the
talks with his male friends depressed him.
It was only natural, he supposed, that the most frequent topic of
conversation was Andrew. It was Andrew's house, Andrew's slave who was
getting married, and Andrew's party in absentia, but there was more.
Andrew strode through all their lives like a colossus, and gave the
younger men a sense of what it must have been like in the glory days of
the Revolutionary War, which some of the older men present remembered,
and the War of 1812, which younger men could recall. It was Andrew who
had paid off the national debt incurred in those wars. It was Andrew who
had broken the power of the central bank. It was Andrew who was the
champion of their
280 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
right to rule themselves, it was Andrew who understood the power and purpose
of the original Constitution, because he personally knew many of the men who
had framed it, and it was Andrew, single-handedly, many believed, who was
ridding the country of the red-skinned savage, by whatever means necessary,
fair or foul.
It was there that so many of the arguments began, old arguments that James
had heard so many times before and wanted so desperately not to hear again.
It was generally agreed that most of Andrew's methods for removing the In-
dians were foul, but whether this was admirable or reprehensible depended
on your point of view. What shocked James was the general acceptance that
he had some proof of the illegality of at least one of Andrew's treaties.
How can so many people know what is in a private correspondence? he thought
angrily, and walked off into the night, to be alone.
It was Becky Perkins who saw him leave and pointed it out to Sally, who was
puzzled. James had been in a remarkably good humor when they had danced
together earlier, but Becky thought he had left angrily. When he'didn't
return after twenty minutes or so, Sally went looking for him.
She found him at Rachel's tomb. She hadn't really looked anywhere else. She
guessed that something someone had said about Andrew had made him angry,
and whenever he had been angry with Andrew in the past, it was to Rachel he
had gone. It was a pretty night, a cloudless, star-spangled sky, and she
could hear the revelers in the distance, but it was peaceful here in this
quiet cemetery.
Sally didn't speak; she was sure James knew she was there. It was the first
time she had seen the completed monument. It had a terrible finality to it,
and for a moment she missed Rachel dreadfully.
"She chose this spot herself," James said after a while. "I think she knew
she would not make old bones."
He was silent again. He looked at the stars, and then at his wife.
"How can he bear to be without her?" he said suddenly. "I could not live
without you."
Sally moved to him and he put his arm around her. Just for
MERGING 281
a moment, she felt a spark of anger with his procrastination, but it quickly
passed, for his sensible caution in all things was one of the reasons why
she loved him.
"You must finish it," she said. "Whatever it is between you and Andrew, you
must resolve it, once and for all. -It is Andrew, isn't it?"
James nodded.
"Put an end to it, my dear," she implored him. "For your own sake if not
for mine."
James looked at her, and knew he had not treated her fairly.
"I promise," he said.
34
The revels lasted until almost dawn, and some of the young bloods didn't
bother going home but bunked at the Hermitage, wherever they could find a
bed. So there was a slightly faded air about the guests when they assembled
at the Hermitage again the next day to witness the wedding; a little starch
had gone from their clothes, and because of the success of the previous
night, a little of the stiff formality from their behavior. No one took the
wedding quite seriously, except perhaps the celebrants. For the whites it
was only a couple of niggers jumping the broom, however well connected one
of those niggers might be, and for most of the blacks, it was the only real
party they had ever been invited to, no matter how restricted the
celebration was.
They all assembled on the cleaned-up lawn and looked anxiously at the
approaching rain clouds. Gracie, lovely in her white gown, was given away
by Andrew junior, but Alfred, never nervous about anything, was in such a
state of jitters he forgot her name in the ceremony and had to be prompted
by Cap'n Jack. Everyone laughed, even the white minister conducting the
service, and only Jass puzzled for a moment as to why two soulless niggers
would have a church wedding. At
282 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
the end of the formal service, Cap'n Jack and Sarah brought the broom, and
Alfred and Gracie jumped over it into the land of matrimony. Married at
last, he kissed her, the crowd cheered, and the rain started.
"Into the bam, " Andrew junior yelled, and everyone made a dash for
cover.
The huge barn had been made ready in case of this very eventuality, and
everyone was in a jovial mood. The week had been a howling success, and
on this, the last day of the festivities, they were all prepared to let
their hair down, have a good party, and then go home. Nature had helped.
Even amid all this benevolent goodwill, the rules of race absolutely
prevailed; they were as natural as breathing to all these people, white
and black. Some pretension had been abandoned though. When old Mr.
Morissey's slave, pushing the Bath chair, tripped on his way to the bam,
sending the old man sprawling into the mud, several young men, white and
black, rushed out into the downpour to help, and together carried the
complaining veteran into the bam.
When the band started to play the first tune, a lively reel, Alfred led
Gracie into the center of the bam, and everyone oohed and aahed, as was
proper, but no one was sure of the protocol, and it was the blacks who
broke the impasse and followed the dancing couple's lead, never for one
moment crossing the invisible line that had been drawn by some unseen
white hand down the middle of the room.
"What the hell," cried Andrew junior. "Can't let the niggers have all the
fun." He took Sarah's hand and they joined in the dance.
It was
all reels and gavottes and polkas, and a furious determination to
have a good time. Jass was in the thick of it, and asked half a dozen
young ladies to dance, and to his surprise, they all accepted. Lizzie,
who was bored with her callow partners, became rather jealous, and
eventually she did the unthinkable. During a small break in the music,
she went to Jass, who was chatting happily with his most recent partner,
and informed him that she had managed to squeeze him into her dance card.
The band struck up again, Jass grinned broadly, positively glowing with
perspiration, Lizzie thought, and he grabbed Lizzie and whirled her onto
the floor.
MERGING 283
"I didn't say it was this dance," Lizzie protested, but Jass only laughed.
"I don't care," he said, and suddenly Lizzie didn't care, for his
enthusiasm was infectious, and she danced as enthusiastically as he.
"My, but they make a handsome couple," Becky Perkins said, watching from
the sidelines with Sally and some other older women. The fellow hens
clucked approvingly.
"Nonsense," Sally snapped, "they're both far too young." She looked at Jass
and Lizzie, dancing with teenage energy, and thought she had never seen her
son so happy.
Easter was miserable. She'd spent most of the time hiding from Reuben, whose
hands, she had discovered last night, were far too inquisitive. Every time
she'd sneaked a look at the dance floor, she'd seen Jass with a different
partner, and now he'd been with Lizzie three dances in a row. Jass was so
clearly having a good time that Easter was now jealous not of Lizzie but of
the good time. Something inside her snapped. She was young, here was a
chance to enjoy herself, and even if Reuben did have wandering hands, they
couldn't wander too far or else she'd yell for her father. She knew he was
looking for her, and moved to a position where he could find her.
"Bin looking for you everywhere," he said.
Easter feigned indifference. "You ain't the only nigger I dances with."
He grinned happily. "You ain't dancin' now," he said, and offered her his
arm.
Easter was about to accept, but she heard the music and saw that the dance
was one she didn't know. She hadn't had much teaching, a few lessons with
Sassy and the occasional improvised hop in the slave quarters, and while
she could manage simple jigs, this was a dance she hadn't seen. It looked
complicated: With lots of whooping and hollering, people would swirl about
with one partner, and then at some signal Easter couldn't pick up, would
change to another partner and swirl about with them.
Reuben saw the tiny doubt in her eye, and correctly guessed the reason.
"It's easy," he assured her. "I c'n-teach you."
284 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
Easter, longing to dance, accepted his assurance. "I hopes yo'c'n teach
yo' hands to mind their manners, too," she sniffed, and followed him to
the floor.
He taught her quickly, or she learned fast, and oh, it was fun. The
general mood infected her: This was the last day, tomorrow they'd be
going back home to dull normality, and Easter was determined to make the
most of these last few moments. She threw herself into the dance with an
abandon that rivaled Jass's energy, only partly in the hope that if he
caught sight of her, he would see she didn't need him to have a good
time.
He did catch sight of her, and she him, and he waved happily, as if
pleased to see her enjoying herself, and she waved back and swung toward
her next partner, and into his arms, and into what seemed to be, for a
few moments, the end of the world.
For she had crossed the invisible line. She stared at the incredulous
white man in horror, and immediately all her training leaped to the fore.
"I so sorry, Massa," she said, and tried to get away, but he would not
let her go. It was Easter's misfortune to have danced into the arms of
Ralph Morissey, who had inherited all his father's intolerance and
prejudices.
"Does anybody own this nigra?" he roared, and the party came to a stop.