evening clothes, and the ladies were beautifully gowned, although Mrs.
Perkins was ostentatiously caparisoned with too much opulent jewelry.
Every time Mr. Perkins looked at his wife, he remembered the cost of the
gems, and he wondered if Becky would ever stop spending money. He ate
little, even though he was not paying for the meal, because of his
stomach problems, and because he always ate frugally, as if to counteract
the expense of his wife's gargantuan appetite. William and Alexander were
away at college in New Jersey, but George still had another year at
Reverend Sloss's Academy in Florence, and he had joined them for dinner.
The triumph of the evening was the dessert, which Parson Dick and Polly
were serving, an elaborate confection of cake
MERGING 385
and pink, strawberry-flavored icing, dotted with cherries preserved in
brandy. Jass had opened a bottle of French champagne to drink with it.
"To the happy couple," Mr. Perkins said,
Sally and Mrs. Perkins raised their glasses in the toast. Lizzie smiled,
and looked radiant.
"It will be the wedding of the year. Of the decade!" Mrs. Perkins gushed.
"And not a nigra to be seen!"
Sally laughed. Alfred and Gracie's wedding in Nashville was remembered
occasionally, and it still rankled with Becky Perkins.
"Are you still smarting about that?" Sally asked. "It was such fun."
"It was a disgrace to put blacks in such proximity to white women," Mrs.
Perkins retorted. "I said no good would come of it. And no good did. Why,
wasn't it one of your slaves, that gel who danced with a white man?"
Jass tried to defend Easter.
"That was all a silly mistake," he said. "And she didn't actually dance
with him."
Lizzie had clear memories of the wedding and its attendant parties, but she
only vaguely remembered the incident they were talking about, and the fuss
it caused. A blurry image came into her mind of Jass leading some nigra out
of the bam. She had a funny name, a very Christian one. Christmas? Easter?
Mr. Perkins was inclined to make a speech.
"Nevertheless," he droned, "we must be constantly on our guard.
Miscegenation will be the downfall of the South."
Jass looked at him steadily.
"I've seen plantation children you would swear were white," Mr. Perkins
continued. "We all have. How can we know what they really are? And if their
blood mixes with ours, we'll all have a touch of the tarbrush soon. Why,
in
that cesspool, New Orleans--
Sally thought it was time to change the subject.
"Perhaps we ladies should refire-T' she hinted, and Becky Perkins stood in
relief. The subject was hardly a fit one to be discussed in front of
ladies.
Lizzie was about to rise when a slave came bursting into
386 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
the room unannounced. Lizzie was shocked. Really, discipline in this house
was very lax. Something would be done about it when she was in charge. She
glanced at Sally, who seemed oddly anxious about the arrival, or perhaps
it was just the rudeness of it.
Cap'n Jack was breathless and beaming.
"Scuse me, Massa," he said, '16' comin' in like this, but a slave chile
jus' been bom, a sweet I'il girl."
None of the Perkinses could understand the fuss. Slave children were born
all the time, and no one rushed into dining rooms to announce it.
None of the Jacksons knew quite what to say, and for a moment there was
a thunderous silence. Then George did a terrible thing.
He giggled.
He blushed with embarrassment and stuffed his napkin into his mouth to
hide his laughter, and Jass and Sally tried to cover for him.
"That's wonderful news, Cap'n Jack," Jass said. "Give the mother our
congratulations," Sally said at the same time.
Cap'n Jack responded to Sally. "I surely will, m'm," he said. "Easter's
doin' jus' fine. I so sorry to disturb you." He left the room.
Mrs. Perkins humphed and sat down. Now she understood. Everyone knew that
Easter was Jass's folie d'amour. Well, most people knew. One person in
the room didn't know. She looked at Lizzie.
Everyone looked at Lizzie. And Lizzie stared at Jass.
It was not that the truth came to her in a blinding flash. It was as if
small pieces of a puzzle, gathered together over the years, slowly began
to form and fit with each other, and make a complete picture.
"Easter?" she said, and Jass held her look.
"She does the weaving," he replied, knowing that Lizzie had to know
eventually. Lizzie looked at the assembled party, at her mother, who was
doing elaborate things with her dessert, and at her father, who was
caressing his complaining stomach and staring at the ceiling. She looked
at George, who was trying hard to be serious, but she knew that a grin
was twitching at the comer of his mouth. At Sally, who was staring
MERGING 387
at her plate. None of them would look her in the eye except Jass. Suddenly
Lizzie realized that she was the only one who hadn't known.
She couldn't absorb it, but knew it was true. Easter. The name had flitted
around at the edges of her mind over the years, and she could only just put
a face to that name, but when she did, the face allied itself to Jass's.
She knew Jass must have been getting "relief," as some women called it,
from someone-all men did, apparently-although what he was being relieved
of
was not exactly clear to her. Mrs. Perkins had instructed her daughter
zealously in all matters of society except those pertaining to
cohabitation. The little knowledge that Lizzie did have had been garnered
from more sophisticated girlfriends. But she knew enough.
Now it was all crystal clear to her. She stared at Jass in horror, and
despised him. What hurt her most was that she had found out now, when only
a few seconds ago she had been so very happy.
She felt like an abject fool. She almost fainted, and it was a genuine
swoon, not the affectation that she used as a social accoutrement. She
clutched the table for Support.
"Suddenly, I do not feel very well," she said. "The winethe heat-"
She ran from the room. Mrs. Perkins saw all her plans for a brilliant
marriage and a secure future for Lizzie fade to nothing. She hurried after
her daughter.
"She gets sick headaches," she told them in unnecessary explanation, and
was gone.
Jass and Sally both stood, not knowing quite what to do. George remained
sitting, shamefaced.
Mr. Perkins was babbling on about the cost of slaves.
" . . . so much cheaper when they are born to the plantation, an endless
supply of free labor," he said. "We should give thanks to God. Although the
cost of maintaining my wife's entourage- "
Sally nodded to Jass, and left the room. Jass sat down, and offered Mr.
Perkins more champagne.
Mr. Perkins declined. "My stomach, y'know. Do yo
u have any port?"
388 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
In the weaving house, the lamp was low. Easter was asleep in the bed, and
Cap'n Jack was sitting in Jass's rocking chair, by the embers of the fire,
rocking the tiny baby on his knee, and singing her a soft lullaby.
Sally came in. Cap'n Jack was pleased to see her, although he regretted
it was not Jass.
"Here she is, m'm," he whispered. "A little princess."
Sally took the child and held her close. She was incredulous. The babe
couldn't be this white. It wasn't possible. What on earth would her life
be like?
As the child snuggled into her bosom, Sally's heart was touched by her,
and she felt the first stirrings of something she always felt when she
held her new grandchildren for the first time, something very close to
love.
Lizzie had run to her bedroom and thrown herself on the bed, weeping. She
heard her mother come in and sit beside her, but ignored her until the
pain was less intense.
"I won't marry him!" she cried, but her words were muffled, her face
buried in the pillow. She meant it, though. Lizzie had a very strict
morality, and despite a superficial sophistication, a very limited
knowledge of the world. Jass was hers; she had no intention of sharing
him with another woman, and especially not a nigra.
"I won't, I swear I won't," she cried again.
Mrs. Perkins, who had been waiting for the worst of the storm to pass.
was ready for her.
"Oh, yes, you will," she said. Her tone was gentle and crooning, but
there was steel behind it.
"You will have a long engagement," Mrs. Perkins continued. "And in time
you will become used to the idea-"
"Never!" Lizzie protested into the pillow.
--and you will be grateful for it!" Mrs. Perkins commanded. She had to
make her daughter understand. Perhaps she had been very wrong to shelter
Lizzie from certain facts of life, but she had always assumed her
daughter would learn these things from other girls. She'd been so
determined that Lizzie would become a "lady" that she had even been
unable to tell her about a woman's times of the month, but had her slave
housekeeper do it. Lizzie had learned things from her
MERGING 389
peers, but she was so wrapped up in becoming the belle her mother wanted her
to be, she paid little attention to it. So the knowledge was piecemeal, like
Cap'n Jack's learning, and never formed a consistent whole.
"A woman's lot is not a happy one, and the slave girls are our salvation,"
she told Lizzie. "If it were not for them, we would have to submit to our
husbands' brutish desires whenever they felt-healthy-"
It got through to Lizzie. The idea of the monster unleashed appalled her.
But not Jass, surely? He was such a gentleman to her. She had not expected
that he would be inexperienced on their wedding night, but she had not
thought he would have a permanent mistress, and how could he allow the fact
of his infidelity to be thrown in her face tonight, of all nights? It was
this sense of hurt to herself that was provoking such bitter
disappointment. She had a truly terrible thought. She looked up from the
pillow.
"Not Papa, surely?" she said in wonder. Not her dear, sweet, tubby, balding
Papa?
Melancholy settled on Mrs. Perkins, and she nodded her head.
"All men are the same," she said. "Lecherous brutes."
"Not Papa?" Lizzie said again, and Mrs. Perkins nodded again.
"If it were not for our slave girls, I don't know what I would do," she
said sadly. "Your father is a demon when he's aroused. "
It wasn't true. Mr. Perkins made very few sexual demands on his wife, far
too few in her book, but Lizzie was going through a dangerous crisis, and
had to be brought safe to a haven.
"Next summer, you will go to Paris, France, for your trousseau. That will
take at least a year." Mrs. Perkins believed that time was the great
healer. "And then you will have to visit all your relations-"
Lizzie stared at the ceiling.
Jass stared at his glass of brandy. Mr. Perkins had retired to bed, and Jass
had admonished George, and then laughed with him about the incident, and
accepted his brother's congratu-
390 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
lations. George had a keen sense of the irony of the situation, and had
accepted Jass's invitation to some brandy. George expressed his surprise
that Jass was not more worried about Lizzie.
"Oh, she'll come round," Jass said casualty. "Her mother will talk sense
into her."
"What if she decides she won't marry you?"
Jass had not seriously considered this possibility. He was sorry that
Lizzie had found out the way she had, but at least it was out in the open.
Jass had no intention of ending his relationship with Easter after his
marriage, and so the sooner Lizzie got used to the idea, the better.
"She'll marry me," Jass told George. "I'm too good a catch for her."
George raised his eyebrows. Jass was not non-nally so cocky.
"Bit full of yourself, aren't you, Brother?" he said in surprise.
Jass grinned and winked, and suddenly he was good old Jass again. "Don't
you think I have reason to be? I'm a pappy! "
He jumped on his brother, laughing, and the two of them wrestled together
on the floor of the study.
Now Jass was alone, in his father's study. My study, he corrected himself.
He felt on top of the world, and did something he had never done before.
He
put his legs on the desk and stretched out, relaxing in the comfortable old
chair and staring at his glass of brandy.
He wanted for nothing. He was Massa. He was rich and strong and free and
mated. He was about to make an excellent marriage, and he was a father, and
would father a dozen sons, and his virility would be envied throughout the
South.
Sally came in a little later, and found him still stretched out, still
staring at his brandy, dreaming of the future, a grin on his face.
Jass guessed where she had been.
"Her life will not be easy," Sally said. "She looks as white as you or 1.
"
Jass assimilated this, but did not really understand his mother's concerns.
There were pale nigras everywhere, high yellas,
MERGING 391
mulattas, whatever you called them, and they lived their lives happily or
unhappily, according to their circumstances and personalities. He could see
no particular problems for his light daughter. She would have an especial
place in the slave hierarchy, and live a life of relative comfort, as her
mother did. Nor was he disappointed that Easter had given birth to a girl;
he was relieved. He thought that he could love a girl-child slave. He
doubted he would have the same affection for a nigger boy.
"Does she have a name?" he asked Sally.
"Cap'n Jack calls her Princess."
Jass nodded, and mouthed the wor
d "Princess" a few times. He knew his
mother was angry, although he wasn't quite sure why, and was determined to
provoke her.
He held up his glass. "Aren't you going to congratulate me?"
Sally glared at him, furious with him, He didn't seem to understand the
problems he had created, for the child as much as for the family, didn't
appreciate the gossip there would be about it, a cotton-white child running
around the plantation with only one likely father. Was he so careless of
his position? What was it about men? Why could they not control themselves?
"Oh, you men!" she said angrily. "The havoc that you cause. "
She left the room.
Nothing could shake Jass's boundless good humor; indeed, his mother's
inexplicable wrath only added to it. She had been stem with him since his
father died, all with the best intentions, Jass knew, to help him fit into
his new position. But he also felt that she was trying to organize his
life, and the idea that he had done something that annoyed her, but
something that most Massas did, most men did, was pleasing to him.
Energy filled him. He got up, went to the bookshelves, and took down the
leather-bound book that was the Slave Register.
He found a new, clean page, inked his quill pen, and filled in the date of
the birth, and the mother's name. Under "Father-If Known" he just put a
dash.
The next column was the value of the slave. Jass thought about this.
Properly, he should have written $50, if the child
392 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
was well and healthy, but he didn't want to make her too valuable, because
he didn't want anyone else to appreciate her value.
He wrote $5 instead.
He had not filled in her name. He scratched with the quill, and mouthed
"Princess" again a few times, but he didn't like it, hadn't liked it when
he first heard it, and it got no better with repetition. If not
"Princess," then what?
He toyed with some other names, but none of them pleased him. Suddenly
he had an idea. He laughed aloud, and wrote something down.
All the world was sleeping, apart from a newborn baby, tucked up snugly
in the wooden cradle that Cap'n Jack had carved for her.
And Jass, who had crept softly into the weaving house, and was now
staring down at his daughter. Already happy, now he thought his cup
brimming over. In the dim light he could hardly see the color of her
skin, and if there was a paleness about her, it was only natural to him.
She was his daughter. He had made this thing, this tiny, fragile,
exquisite thing. He had created it, given it life; it was the seed of his
loins.
"Hello, Queen," he said softly.
He picked her up out of the cradle and sat with her in his chair, rocking
her gently. The child seemed content in 'her father's arms.
They sat together for an hour or so, and then Queen decided she was
hungry and started to whimper. Easter stirred immediately. The crying of
the child caused the milk to move down in her breasts. She saw Jass
nursing Queen, and for a moment wished that this was how it might always
be, but knew it could not. She knew that Lizzie was visiting, and from
the chattering slaves, she knew why.
She moved on the bed, so that Jass would realize she was awake. He looked
at her, tenderly.
"Was it bad?" he asked her.
Easter shook her head. "Popped out easy."
"Liar," Jass grinned. "I could hear you all the way up at the big house."
It seemed cruel to tell her now, but she had to know, and
MERGING 393
surely, at this moment, she must know that he loved her.
"While I was proposing to Lizzie."
He hoped for some indication of her feelings, but she gave none. Queen
cried again, and Jass tickled her under the chin, to quiet her.
"She hungry," Easter said.
Jass brought Queen to Easter, put the child in her mother's arms, and sat
on the bed beside them.
"Her name is Queen," he told Easter.
Easter made no comment, but opened her nightgown and put her breast to
Queen's mouth. She watched the girl sucking contentedly for a moment, and