Read Queen Page 43

mated, sought by a fairly beautiful woman who would make a fine mistress

  of the manor, soon he would be free of his pressing responsibilities and

  was looking forward to four years of carelessness. Already he was be-

  coming a carefree freshman at college, and he saw no harm in making a

  promise to Lizzie that, in four years' time, he might not necessarily

  have to keep. Anything could happen in four years, and knowing Lizzie's

  low threshold of boredom, he imagined she would eventually find another

  beau, which prospect didn't disturb him, although at this moment, about

  to set off on his great adventure, he felt as close to Lizzie as he ever

  had. Or perhaps ever would.

  Every young man going to college should have a sweetheart waiting for him

  at home.

  He smiled at her, and put his arm around her.

  "Hush, now," he said gently. "Don't cry. I promise that it you are true

  to me while I am gone, you will not be wasting your time."

  It sounded pretty good to him, and he believed it at the moment that he

  said it.

  Lizzie believed it too. "Oh, Jass," she said, and closed her eyes.

  Her lips were only inches from his, and Jass knew what she

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  wanted, what he should do next, and found himself wanting it too. He

  kissed her. She yielded to him, but did not open her mouth.

  It made Jass angry. She had chided him at Nashville for his chaste,

  youthful kiss, had told him to learn to do it properly. Well, he had

  learned. He'd had an extraordinary teacher. For one fierce momgnt, he

  pretended it was Easter in his arms, and forced his tongue into Lizzie's

  mouth. It was good, because she was so surprised, but it wasn't great.

  There seemed to be limits on how far his tongue could go, certain hard

  edges. When he kissed Easter, it was completely different, soft and

  endless, without any sense that there was bone within this flesh, just

  warm, wet flesh, soft, sweet flesh, forever, without end.

  Still, Lizzie was amazed. She had allowed young men to kiss her, and one

  had poked his tongue, as a sort of dare, quickly between her lips, but

  she had almost bitten it off and made a considerable fuss. The

  circumstances were not right to make a fuss with Jass now, nor did she

  want to, for now he was everything she wanted him to be, her lover and

  her father and her master.

  She was puzzled because she expected to feel some hardness in his groin,

  pressing against her. All the other girls told her this happened,

  giggling about the pleasure it could give, and swooning at the prospect

  of the pain it was supposed to cause. She certainly felt something

  pressing against her, but it was soft and squashy, and she quite enjoyed

  it. She was also considerably relieved. She'd heard that once the beast

  was unleashed, she would have no power to stop it, and it frightened her,

  for while Lizzie was interested in the potential pleasure, she was

  terrified of any possible pain.

  She backed her hips away from his, and then broke from the kiss.

  "Did I do something wrong?" Jass wondered.

  "Oh, no," she said, and had to make him understand. "You do know that I

  love you, don't you?"

  It was important that he did. She could not give herself to him, even at

  some distant date at least four years away, without love.

  Even more importantly, she had to know that she was loved in return. So

  she asked him.

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  "Do you love me?"

  "Yes, of course," Jass said.

  And because it didn't sound entirely convincing, even to him, he added

  something else.

  "With all my heart."

  And wondered why Easter never asked him that question, and knew it was

  because she had no need to ask.

  His family gathered on the veranda to wave good-bye to him, and Cap'n

  Jack, although Easter stood in the trees some distance away. He had

  spent the night with her, but now he had to ignore her, except for a

  simple wave.

  She had not told him she was pregnant.

  43

  Jass did well at college. A serious and capable student, he had no

  difficulty achieving adequate grades, but since his eventual degree was

  of little moment to him, and of less value to his station, he studied only

  as much as was necessary, and spent the rest of his time enjoying the

  respite that this sojourn away from Alabama allowed him.

  The adventure began with the journey. Accompanied by Cap'n Jack, he had

  traveled through Knoxville and Charleston to Alexandria, so that Jass

  might visit the nation's capital across the river, and on to Baltimore

  and Wilmington, before arriving at his destination, the College of New

  Jersey, situated by a lovely lake, near Princeton Village. Virginia was

  his first surprise, his first sense of the age and history of his

  country, the first time he had seen buildings more than fifty years old.

  Cap'n Jack was his guide as far as Washington, having been there before

  with his old Massa, but when they ventured farther north it was virgin

  territory for both of them.

  It was in Washington that Jass saw free blacks for the first time in any

  numbers, and he was puzzled that the sight was

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  not more momentous for him. They were like blacks anywhere, going about

  their business, ignored for the most pail but, it seemed to Jass as they

  journeyed on, as much reviled and despised as anywhere in the South.

  Raised to the concept that all Yankees were nigger lovers, he was

  astonished at the way blacks were treated throughout the North. Mostly

  they seemed to live in enclaves of their own, worked as domestic servants

  to wealthy whites or as field hands on fanns or as unskilled labor in the

  few factories he saw. Their poverty was dire, and many were beggars, which

  would not have been tolerated in the South and certainly was not necessary

  there, and Jass wondered when they would arrive in the Negro haven that

  the North was supposed to be. He never found it. Intolerance abounded,

  there were many taverns and inns that Cap'n Jack could not enter, and when

  they stayed at travelers' hostels or hotels, Cap'n Jack had to sleep in

  the nigger quarters out back. Just as it was at home.

  Even in New Jersey, which Jass had thought to be a true Yankee state, he

  discovered that there were still slaves. Under pressure from New York and

  Pennsylvania, New Jersey had reluctantly legislated for abolition at the

  turn of the century, but significant concessions had been made to

  slaveholders, which meant that there would be some slavery in the state

  for several years to come. At college, Cap'n Jack was domiciled in the

  scarcely adequate quarters provided for the blacks who attended the

  wealthy students, and Jass was appalled to discover that the Northerners

  often dealt with their "free" servants far more wretchedly than the

  Southerners treated their valuable slaves.

  "Boston," George P
ritchard, his roommate from Delaware, told him. "They

  love their blacks in Boston. Only there aren't many there to love. It's

  the bog Irish who are the problem in Boston."

  "I'm Irish," Jass laughed in response, and George, a studious young man,

  looked at him seriously.

  "No," said George, "you are a gentleman. The rest of us are in waiting."

  It was true. His father's death and his inheritance had given Jass an

  authority that set him slightly apart from his fellows, who still lived

  in expectation of their patrimony. Jass had ac-

  MERGING 355

  cess to his own money, and, generous as ever, he could be counted on for

  small loans when other students' finances were tight. Although the

  day-to-day business of The Forks was handled by Tom Kirkman and Mitchell,

  Jass was still informed of major decisions that had to be made, and his

  advice was waited on, and while Jass appreciated the responsibility, from

  time to time it gave him the feeling that, again in his life, he did not

  quite fit in. Richer than any of his fraternity, and most of their

  fathers, he was still a freshman, battling Livy and Xenophon, fogged in

  by algebra, with Horace and Demosthenes and trigonometry to look forward

  to. Not yet twenty-one, he wanted the carelessness that his peers enjoyed,

  and yet a letter written by him could result in fortunes lost or made from

  the sale or purchase of land, or affect the lives of the many slaves he

  owned, and he was continually concerned with the price of cotton. He took

  his duties and responsibilities seriously, and sometimes felt old before

  his time, and often, oh, he longed to be silly.

  But he was also different because he was mature in another area. His

  relationship with Easter, and the emotional security it provided, took

  the frivolous edges from him. He missed her, but without any sharp sense

  of loss because he knew she would be there for him when he returned. He

  never wrote to her because she couldn't read, but sent occasional bland

  messages to her in correspondence with his mother.

  He wrote to Lizzie, inconsequential letters with formal endearments, and

  received volumes of gossipy pages in response, filled with trivia about

  Florence, and The Forks, and the extravagances of her mother. And it was

  a letter from Lizzie that informed him that some slave, the weaving

  woman, had miscarried, shortly after Jass's departure. The father, Lizzie

  insisted, was unknown.

  Jass stared out at the night, concerned more for Easter than for himself,

  for he knew how important the child was to her. He neither knew nor cared

  if Lizzie was aware of the truth, but correctly guessed that she was not.

  She made no great issue of the matter; it was two sentences in a page

  devoted to happenings at The Forks, and she moved immediately to other

  news. Jass guessed that Cap'n Jack had not known of the pregnancy-at

  least he had never mentioned it-and decided

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  not to tell his slave of the miscarriage, but he wrote to his mother,

  asking her to buy a small present and give it to Easter.

  The young men from the Song Club were practicing some little distance

  away under ivy-covered arches, and the sweet melody lulled Jass, and

  caused him to think of the power his seed contained, the ability to

  create life, and the prospect of a child by Easter became dearer to him,

  perhaps because of the loss.

  To compensate for this, he threw himself into student activities, but

  again, because of his position, the others would often defer to him when

  decisions had to be made.

  He fenced, and rowed on the lake, and joined the Debating Club, where the

  increasing division between the North and the South was a frequent topic.

  More than half his fellow students were from the South-the college had

  a reputation for providing a classical education to young Southern

  gentlemenbut there were sufficient Northerners, and some of those avowed

  abolitionists, to provoke lusty arguments. Jass listened attentively to

  the calls for emancipation, and agreed with many of them, but in his

  heart he could not reconcile the appalling conditions in which so many

  blacks lived in the North with the comparatively comfortable conditions

  that his slaves enjoyed. Someone told him this was an excuse, a way to

  justify their subjugation, and Jass wondered if this was true, and al-

  lowed that it might be. George Pritchard, in particular, both in formal

  debate and casual conversation, urged Jass to free his slaves, to strike

  a blow for liberty, to establish the first plantation in the South that

  paid its labor, but while it was an ideal that Jass had long ago

  espoused, he would only smile at George, and tell him the time was not

  yet right.

  "The time is now," George insisted. "For I tell you, old man, you cannot

  survive with slavery."

  Jass never responded to this, but inside he heard a small voice telling

  him that they could not survive without slavery.

  He wondered why his mind had changed, and knew that he was, to an extent

  at least, scared of his own position. To try such a bold experiment would

  bring the wrath of the South on his head, might destroy the plantation

  that was under his stewardship, might bring about his family's financial

  and social destruction, and Jass was not brave enough for that.

  MERGING 357

  And tucked away in a tiny comer of his heart was something else. Jass did

  not really believe that The Forks of Cypress was "his." His father had

  thought that-the successful maintenance and expansion of the estate had

  been lifeblood to James-but Jass felt himself more of a caretaker,

  looking after something that already existed for the benefit of someone

  yet to come.

  His son.

  As the months passed, the idea of having a son, a child, an heir, became

  increasingly important to Jass, who, often, wanted to be rid of the

  burden that had come to him. Sometimes he yearned to be with Wesley, out

  there, in the nowhere, with Easter beside him, living in a simple log

  cabin along a crystal stream, farming a few manageable acres, and letting

  the rest of the world do what it would. The rest of the world was too

  complicated.

  This new world was fascinating to Cap'n Jack. He did not enjoy most of the

  aspects of college life. His privileged position at The Forks was taken

  from him; here he was just a slave, treated by everyone but Jass as

  inconsequentially as the other slaves and servants. The bunkhouse in which

  he slept was cramped and uncomfortable, the food provided was barely

  adequate, and his companion blacks were either servile, in the case of the

  slaves, or trouble stirrers in the case of the servants. The nights were

  spent in endless argument, the servants urging the slaves to rebel, to

  escape, or fight their bondage, and the slaves begging the servants to

  leave them be or complaining or making plans to run away, which non
e of

  them would ever do.

  But, oh, the days! The days of Cap'n Jack were magnificent. Since it was

  believed that none of the slaves could read or write, they were allowed

  to squat on the floor at the back of the classrooms in case their masters

  should have need of them. Thus Cap'n Jack, who could read and write, was

  introduced to worlds he had never known existed.

  Helen launched a thousand ships, and made men immortal with a kiss.

  Achilles killed and died for love of Patroclus. Romulus founded Rome and

  Cleopatra destroyed Antony for love. Charlemagne conquered Europe and

  Harold invaded

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  Britain. Columbus discovered America and Byron found Greece. France

  deposed a monarch and instituted a terror, while England created an empire

  and lost America. A multitude of inquiring minds and provocative artists

  were paraded before him: Homer, Socrates, Plato, Horace, and Cicero; da

  Vinci, Michelangelo, Rubens, Rembrandt, and Titian; Erasmus, Copernicus,

  and Galileo.

  No one told him of the slaves who populated Greece and Rome and added to

  their glory. No one told him of the great, lost kingdoms of Africa,

  except that of Sheba and its queen who beguiled a biblical king.

  It was George Pritchard who led the way. "But if Sheba came from Africa,"

  he said to the professor, "was she black?"

  The room fell silent. None of the students had ever considered this. The

  professor had.

  "We do not know that the realm of Sheba was actually on the African

  continent," he said. "More probably, the southern Arabian peninsula-"

  George smiled. "Then she was--he trod carefully"swarthy at least?"

  Cap'n Jack listened intently.

  "Swarthy, yes, undoubtedly swarthy, I think that's an admirable word,"

  the professor agreed.

  "Brown, that is?" George pushed his point.

  "Well, brown, perhaps light brown, like many Semitic peoples. I can't see

  that it matters." The professor was not happy with the direction.

  "No, I don't suppose it matters at all." George was all innocence. "It

  had simply never occurred to me that Solomon loved a mulatta."

  Jass turned slightly pink, and grinned, and there were some sharp hisses

  of disapproval from other students.

  "That's a very abrupt way of putting it," the professor said, "but I

  think there is a lesson here. The beauty of the Bible is that it exposes

  us to the complete range of human experience. It tells us how to worship,

  how to live, how to behave, even, in Leviticus, what to eat. It also

  tells us, very clearly, what we should not do."

  He'd dealt with precocious students before.

  MERGING 359

  "Solomon may very well, as you so.coarsely put it, Mr. Pritchard, have

  loved a mulatta. It is a not uncommon syndrome even today, in certain

  iniquitous places. The city of New Orleans, I believe, is awash with it.

  But Solomon broke his covenant with God, and fell from grace."

  He looked sternly at his class. "So I urge you young gentlemen to think

  very carefully before giving way to the lusts of the flesh. Only in

  Christian marriage with Christian white women will you attain your true

  potential."

  Suddenly he shouted at them.

  "All else is base fornication!" he thundered. It had exactly the effect

  he knew it would. Some cheered, some tittered, and some blushed.

  Except Jass, who was, for an instant, transported back years in time, to

  another place, where a wild Tennessee Preacher had accused him of the

  same thing.

  And except Cap'n Jack, who had experienced what he thought was a

  revelation.

  He stayed on the shore that evening while Jass rowed on the take. He

  stared at the setting sun, and thought of the mulatta Queen of Sheba, who

  came from Africa, or someplace very close to it, as his people had come

  from Africa, and he allowed himself to dream, for a moment, that his

  ancestors might have served as attendants to the queen who had stolen a

  great king's heart and worshiped in the temple of Solomon. For the first