Read Queen Page 42

engulfing embrace, like a child coming home. His mouth found hers, and

  her lips weren't enough. As if there was no other place it could be, his

  tongue touched hers and filled her yielding mouth and could find no

  barrier of resistance. She pushed her groin against his, and could feel

  that hardness she had felt once before, long ago, and had wanted with all

  her heart to feel again. Other new and wonderful emotions, sensations,

  longings, surged through Jass as his mouth moved down to her neck, his

  hands opened her bodice and her breasts were free to him, his at last

  that he had only dreamed of, and the reality was sweeter than he could

  have possibly imagined, He wanted the moment to peak now and to last

  forever.

  He looked down at her breasts and then up into her eyes, and seemed to

  drown in them, but he knew the sea was deeper yet, and he had no desire

  to escape his fate. He put his hand to her face, and the contrast in

  colors shocked him, spurred him, inflamed him. It was what Wesley had

  promised, the white and the black, all sensual texture and lustrous

  desire.

  He laid her down on the little cot, and lay astride her, kissing her

  still. His hands caressed her thighs and found their way under her skirt

  and petticoat by their own volition, it seemed, reaching upward, until

  suddenly he found the hot, wet warmth of his goal. She had unbuttoned his

  pants, and now he was free and it felt wonderful, flesh upon flesh, the

  colors of it dazzling him, flawless white on exquisite black and he

  wanted to lose himself forever in her sheening body.

  Easter bit her lip in pain as he pushed inside her, ~pain upon pain, and

  ever more pain, until she might have screamed for

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  him to stop, and then suddenly she exploded and there wasn't any more pain

  and she felt him hard inside her and she cried out at the wonder of it,

  rocking with him, meeting the thrust of his hips, until he cried out, and

  she could feel him pulsing into her and she knew he had given her the

  sweetest gift it was in his power to give.

  When it was done, he stayed inside her for a long time, moving only a

  little, to make them both more comfortable, side by side, still keeping

  her in his embrace. Easter was not sure what to do; she didn't want to

  move, but didn't know if he did, didn't know if it was her place, now

  that it was done, to give him some indication that he was not under any

  obligation to stay. She stiffed a little, as if to move away, but he

  increased the pressure of his embrace slightly, and she knew that she had

  no need to go, and that he had need of her to stay.

  Moonlight bathed them, filtering in through the little window. They did

  not speak, for there was nothing that had to be said. Their faces were

  so close together she could feel his steady breathing, and she wondered

  if he was asleep. Then she felt a tiny trickle of moisture on her cheek,

  and she knew it was from him. She held him still, letting him cry,

  letting him mourn his dead father and could not know that he wept as much

  from joy at what he had found as grief for what he had lost.

  When she knew he was not crying, she felt an urgent desire to express an

  emotion, but it was one she had never experienced before, a tender,

  dulcet emotion that began somewhere in the pit of her heart and drifted

  out of her as a moaning hum that became a lullaby. It never formed into

  a song, or any that she knew; there were no words to it, or none that

  seemed necessary, it was only a sound, the gentle primal sound of a

  mother lulling the fear of the dark from her child.

  His breathing, already even, steadied some more, and he drifted to sleep.

  Easter stayed awake for a while, lulling him still with the soft song.

  The tears were still damp on his cheek, and she leaned to him, and kissed

  them away with her mouth. She settled back, her head resting on his

  shoulder, and stared at the vague outline of his face that the moonlight

  gave her, and then dozed for a while. He moved in his sleep, rolled

  MERGING 345

  toward her, and she, only half conscious, moved with him, until her back

  was pressed against him and she was gathered into his slumbering embrace.

  Toward dawn he stirred, and caressed her gently, and she woke to the

  hardness of him against her. She turned to him, and he stroked her and

  kissed her, sweetly, gently, softly, for a while; then he moved astride

  her and, without any urgency, went inside her again, to the place that

  both of them wanted him to be.

  42

  =======> 4~

  They became lovers in the purest sense, in that all they had was their

  love. Their past was both a foundation and an irrelevance, and they had

  no possibility of a future. All they had was now.

  . They lived according to the manners and mores of their place and time-he

  was Massa of a great estate and she his slave. Separately, they went about

  their separate business. Except by chance, Jass never saw her in his other

  life, but lived in the bosom of his white family, adjusting to his new

  status, counseled by friends, besought by his father's associates.

  Easter spent her life without him as though nothing had changed between

  them, although the greatest change was in her. Secure in the knowledge

  of his love, she lost all sense of jealousy or ambition. She had

  everything she wanted; now was everything she wanted to be, except for

  the one thing he could give that might make her life complete. Brought

  up to a clear knowledge of the reality of her situation, she harbored no

  ambitions to be mistress of the big house, for it scared her, had no

  yearning for elaborate gowns or grand functions, or visits to other

  places, for since her journey to Nashville, these frightened her too.

  Alone among the slaves at The Forks of Cypress, and any others of her

  acquaintance, she had no wish to be free-that was the most terrifying

  prospect of all, because the

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  gain of it might mean the loss of something infinitely more precious to

  her. Already she knew she could not have some of him, that other him, but

  that was no more than she had always known. She knew he must be married

  one day, to a white woman, but so strong was her love that this caused her

  no concern. She had no desire to keep house for him, or care for him,

  except in those few hours when he was hers, and then she was content with

  as much as he was able to give. The only little gift she wanted from him

  now was the simplest, cheapest, most dear thing it was in his power to

  bestow: a child, not to bind him to her but to have a part of him, the

  best of him, so that wherever he might go, even if he should, which she

  did not for one moment consider, leave her.

  They moved in parallel but separate directions, without the desire or

  ability to acknowledge each other, to each ' other or to the world. But

  late in the afternoon, he wou
ld come to her, and they would sit for a

  time, often not talking, he in his old rocking chair, puffing on his

  pipe, she at her loom, her senses reveling in the nearness of him, the

  security of him, content with what she had, and when he did talk,

  listening to his opinions or his problems or, to make her laugh, his

  gossip, and she would offer advice if she felt able, and smile at his

  jokes, and nurse his body or his heart if either needed attention. The

  most precious time of all was the night, when their other worlds were

  sleeping, and he came to the weaving house. It might have been the

  smallest hovel of his kingdom, but it was the one place where he could

  be free of newfound responsibility, the one place where the burden of

  decision that sometimes he felt inadequate to bear was taken from him,

  and he could simply be Jass again. So to him it was a castle, and she his

  triumphant queen.

  They told no one, but everyone knew. Cap'n Jack had not slept at the

  weaving house the night old Massa died, for he knew Jass was there, but

  had found a disused cabin at the slave quarters and had made it his new

  home. Easter cleaned and sometimes cooked for him, or Tiara would, but

  the new domestic arrangements were only occasionally discussed. At night,

  when the slaves were gathered round the campfire enjoying the few moments

  when they were their own masters,

  MERGING 347

  some of them would rib Cap'n Jack about his daughter and the Massa, but

  Cap'n Jack only smiled, for everything was coming to pass as it should.

  Some of the younger men thought it was an insult, the Massa taking

  advantage of a slave, but their elders shrugged. It was, to most of them,

  inevitable. Jass and Easter had been inseparable as children, and now, it

  seemed, would be inseparable as adults, and as Tiara insisted, "it was

  nat'chrel."

  Sally thought it inevitable too, and said nothing. Despite any

  reservations she had once had about the possibility of this relationship,

  now she was glad of it. She had seen Jass take a premature leap from heir

  to Massa, and saw that he was faltering, awed by the immensity of what

  was now his, and the fact that he was finding some brief hours of

  careless happiness each day, that he had a friend who expected nothing

  from him, was sweet to her.

  It was Sally who raised the question of college. They were at dinner, Jass

  sitting at the head of the table, and the Trio were in a gleeful mood.

  "But it isn't possible,' I Jass said. "There's too much to do here. "

  Sally, watching him assume a role he was not quite ready for, didn't

  agree.

  "Nonsense," she said. "The plantation is running very smoothly. Mitchell

  has things well in hand here, and Tom and I can make any major decisions.

  With your authority, of course.

  The Trio were all in favor, and dreamed of the devilment they could get

  into if Jass were away.

  "Of course, it's your decision," said Sally. "But I think it might be

  good for you. It would give you"-she chose her words carefully-"

  breathing space."

  Jass was silent for a while, and toyed with his food. After the death of

  James, he had abandoned the idea of college, believing it was his duty

  to run The Forks of Cypress. But too often he felt overwhelmed by his

  role. The holdings were so extensive, and so complex, he relied

  completely on the advice of his mother, and his cousin (brother-in-law?)

  Tom Kirkman,

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  or the overseer, and he wondered how his father had been able to keep

  track of it all. Tom seemed to understand all the nooks and crannies, and

  had suggested that when the prices were right, they reduce some of the

  unwieldy estate. The plantation in Missouri was up for sale, and Colonel

  Elliot had offered to buy the stud farm in Nashville. Tom took charge of

  these negotiations, and often Jass felt as if he were in the way, or

  unnecessary, but the responsibility for the many lives under his dominion,

  and the ultimate right of decision, caused him sleepless nights. Sally

  knew this, and believed that he had the right to the days of youth. A.J.

  would have been well into his twenties when James died, but Jass was only

  in his teens. She hoped that college would give him the respite that he

  needed, allow him time to grow.

  Jass was thrilled by the idea. He still had a young man's wanderlust, and

  while New Jersey wasn't quite the same as California, at least it was a

  journey. He knew a degree was completely unnecessary to his future, but

  it might give him a sense of achievement. More than everything else, he

  thought it would be fun.

  "And you can take a slave," William said. "To look after you. I'm going

  to take Ephraim when I go, to look after my horse. -

  Then he remembered himself. "If that's all fight with you, of course."

  Jass smiled his assent.

  "You could take Easter," George giggled. "She'd really look after you."

  "Don't be foul." Jass was stem, but amused by them. "Of course I'd take

  Cap'n Jack."

  "But what will Easter do for four years?" asked Alexander. "She'll get

  awfully lonely."

  "I could look after that," said William cheekily, and winked at his

  brothers, who fell into fits of laughter.

  His mother was furious. The relationship between Jass and Easter was

  never discussed, or even mentioned, in the house. "If you can't control

  your tongue, you'd better go to your room," she said.

  "Sorry, Mamma." William didn't look remotely sorry, and George had the

  devil in him.

  "More to the point," he said, "what will you do about Lizzie?"

  MERGING 349

  Jass looked at Sally. He had no idea what he was going to do about

  Lizzie, whether he went to college or not.

  Lizzie was a major part of Jass's problems, for she had taken James's

  death hard. He had come to represent the father figure she so sorely

  needed, and she transferred many of her emotional requirements to Jass,

  making demands of him that he was incapable of fulfilling. She wanted

  paternal authority and youthful suitor all in one. She deferred to him in

  all aspects, but constantly tried to exact decisions of him about her

  life, which, Jass thought, were not his to make. She was forever offering

  him unwanted advice about the plantation, and his affairs, and most of

  all, his perceived position, until Jass could hardly bear to be with her.

  Then she would change, or her idea of him would, and she would become the

  coquette, the silly, flirtatious Lizzie of old. And this, compared with

  the tranquil calm of Easter, was even more infuriating to Jass. Then she

  might weep, and insist he didn't love her, which confused Jass since love

  had never been mentioned between them. But long ago he had asked

  permission to call on her, which was, within their world, something of a

  commitment, which Jass felt honor-bound to fulfill. He had to consider

 
marriage, for he had to have children. Much as he loved his brothers, The

  Forks of Cypress was his, and he wanted it to pass to his son, and his

  son's sons, and if nothing else, he wanted to prove his manhood. To

  provide a new heir of direct lineage was the simplest thing that he could

  do, and the most profound, even if he floundered in all other aspects of

  his authority.

  Nor could he think of another white woman who interested him more than

  Lizzie, for he was most eligible, and he had no shortage of applicants

  for his hand.

  The simple truth was that Jass had very little interest in white women

  on a sexual basis. The coffee skin of Easter so entranced him, so

  beguiled him, so excited him that, like Wesley, paler beauty hardly

  stirred him.

  Once you go black, you never go back. Midnight velvet. All the schoolboy

  jokes about black women danced in his mind. It's true, he thought, it's

  true. Even now, sitting at dinner with his family, he wanted to be away,

  to be with Easter, to lose himself in that wondrous body.

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  He told her afterward. They made love, and lay together in the little

  shack, and he told her he would be away for four years. The vacation

  breaks would be too short, and the journey too long, to allow him to

  travel such a distance home.

  "You'll be all right," he said. "You'll be looked after. If there's

  anything you need, you only have to ask."

  She was silent for a long time, and he knew she was crying, although no

  sound or movement betrayed her.- He held her close.

  "And then I'll come home," he said later, when he knew she was calm. "And

  I'll never go away again."

  Still she didn't speak.

  "It won't be for another few months," he whispered, "but if there's

  anything you want, anything I can do for you before I go-"

  She said something then, but so softly he could hardly hear. But he knew

  what it was, for she said it often, gently when they caressed, or crying

  it out when they made love.

  She said it again, now.

  "I want yo' baby."

  Lizzie didn't take the news as well. Expecting an argument, Jass delayed

  telling her until he had little choice. She stared at him in utter

  bewilderment.

  "Whatever for?"

  Jass shrugged. "So I can get my degree."

  "What good is that to you?" Lizzie was on the verge of temper. "Do you

  intend to enter a profession?"

  Jass tried laughter, but it didn't work. "Don't be silly," he said. "It's

  just-"

  He wondered why it had become so important to him.

  "I need to do something, something of my own. I don't want to ride

  through my life on my father's coattails."

  Lizzie had one of those odd moments of clarity that came to her

  occasionally, when her world was falling apart and she looked in the

  mirror.

  "That's all very well for you," she said. "But what about me? Four years

  without YOU."

  Jass laughed again. "You'll be fine. You can go to all your balls and

  parties and picnics and not have to worry about dragging dull old me

  along."

  MERGING351

  Lizzie stared at him in amazement. He doesn't know who he is, she

  thought, doesn't appreciate his position. He never has. He needs me.

  "I'm not interested in parties," she said, and let the tears trickle down

  her cheeks. "I need you."

  Which was the real truth of the matter. Lizzie needed Jass-

  someone-desperately. And unlike Jass, she 4idn't have many choices. She

  played her ace.

  "I think it's very unfair," she said. "I had thought your intentions to

  me were more immediate."

  "Oh, Lizzie, I'm still too young to get married," Jass lied. Some of his

  peers had already announced their engagements.

  "Married, perhaps, but if you want me to wait for you for four years, I

  think you should give me some indication that I wouldn't be wasting my

  time."

  Jass didn't know if he wanted her to wait but saw no harm in it. At this

  moment his future seemed limitlessly happy. Young and rich, strong and