Read Queen Page 51

"Of course, I'm hoping for a boy," Lizzie said, delighted by his obvious

  glee.

  Jass chuckled happily. "A baby! Thank you, Lizzie."

  She smiled sweetly. "Well, you did have something to do with it, Jass,"

  she said, and felt grown-up, for the first time in her life.

  The soup was spent with plans of fixing up the nursery, and possible

  names for boys, and finding a good slave to be nanny, and when the main

  course was served, Jass decided they needed champagne. Parson Dick

  offered to fetch it, but Jass loved choosing the right bottle of wine for

  the right occasion.

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  The two men went to the cellar together, where Parson Dick offered his

  congratulations, and Jass had an idea.

  They all drank the new baby's health in sparkling wine, and Jass told them

  of his plan.

  "We could bring Queen here to live," he said. "As a companion for him. Or

  her. They'd grow up as friends and she'd scare away the black bogeyman."

  He was surprised at the silence that greeted him. Sally could guess

  Lizzie's feelings.

  "Do you think it's quite wise, Jass?" she said. Jass was a little Put out.

  "I think it's an excellent idea, Mother," he retorted.

  He did not hear Lizzie's still, small voice saying, "No."

  50

  Queen woke up because she heard voices. They were not loud, but they sounded

  cross. It surprised her, because she knew it was her mammy and the Massa,

  and they didn't get angry with each other usually. They were in the only

  other room, where her gran'pappy used to sleep before she was bom, and she

  lay in her cot near the loom and tried to work out what was wrong. She hoped

  the Massa wasn't angry with her mammy, because she didn't want her mammy to

  be whipped, like Isaac had been the other day by the new white man who had

  come to work here. As she listened, she began to realize they were talking

  about her, and she got very scared because she didn't want to be whipped,

  either. She tried to think of things she'd done wrong, but she didn't think

  she'd done anything bad recently, and then she realized that her mammy

  sounded sad as well as cross. She heard Mammy say, "No," quite loudly, but

  she could not make out what the Massa was saying, so she sneaked out of bed

  and walked on tippy-toe to their door to listen.

  "It's for the best," she heard the Massa say. There was a

  MERGING 419

  little silence, and she knew her mammy was crying, not real tears but

  crying inside, where it really hurts.

  "She all I got," Mammy said, very softly.

  When the Massa spoke again, he sounded kind again.

  "She'll still be yours," he said, and Queen thought he must have kissed

  Mammy. "But she'll live in the big house, that's the only difference, and

  be companion to my little boy."

  Queen was puzzled. She liked the idea of living in the big house; they

  had a lot of parties there, and it wasn't very far away. But she didn't

  know who the Massa's boy was; he didn't have a little boy as far as Queen

  knew. Perhaps that was why he was always so nice to her.

  Mammy said something else, which Queen couldn't hear properly, about Miss

  Lizzie, and then the Massa sounded angry again.

  "Lizzie won't harm a hair of her head," Massa said. "I'll see to that."

  They must mean her, and Mammy must think Miss Lizzie was going to do

  something nasty to Queen. Queen crept back to her bed. The idea of living

  in the big house was fun, but not if Miss Lizzie was going to be nasty

  to her, and even though the weaving house wasn't very far away, it was

  far enough. But the Massa would save her, he'd said so.

  She snuggled into bed and lay dreaming of parties at the big house, and

  pretty dresses. Perhaps she might even get to sleep in one of those big

  beds with a post at each comer and some material over the top like a

  tent. Mammy had shown her one when they went visiting the big house once,

  and Queen loved those beds. You could crawl inside, into the nice soft

  sheets they had there, much softer than the blanket Queen slept under,

  and you could close the curtains at the sides of the bed, and no one in

  the world could find you. Then she thought of living away from Mammy, and

  she got scared again. She wondered if Miss Lizzie would let her see Mammy

  when she wanted to, and Gran'pappy and Tiara, who was very old and very

  kind, and all the people she loved. She didn't like Miss Lizzie, who

  always seemed cross, and she had seen Miss Lizzie hit one of the slave

  girls once when the Massa was away. Queen didn't want Miss Lizzie to hit

  her, and if the Massa was away, and Miss Sally was old and resting, like

  she sometimes did, what would she do? She wished she could

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  close some curtains around her own little bed now, because she didn't want

  anyone in all the world to find her.

  Jass was angry. He couldn't understand why everybody was so against his

  splendid idea. Lizzie had been pouting ever since dinner, and then Sally

  had spoken to him quietly when Lizzie had gone upstairs to bed with a

  headache. Sally was in a quandary. She loved the idea of Queen living with

  them, but she understood Lizzie's feelings, for to bring Easter's daughter

  into the house was a considerable slap in the face. Sally tried to present

  Lizzie's point of view, but the more she argued, the more stubborn Jass

  became. It wasn't as if the child was to be brought up as one of their

  own-she would still be a slave-but it would be good for her, good for the

  new baby, good for all of them to have that dear little creature running

  round. He didn't tell Sally of his real affection for Queen, nor of his

  true reason for wanting her in the big house-to protect her from the other

  slaves. Perhaps he didn't understand those reasons himself. He did

  understand that he wanted some influence over Queen's education, for even

  as he rejected his paternity on any official basis, he loved her and

  wanted her to have the best life he could give her. He and Sally had some-

  thing of a row, but, as he said, he was the Massa, and his wishes

  prevailed.

  He came to see Easter, to give her the good news, and she was still as

  against it as Sally and Lizzie. She seemed to feel that she would lose

  Queen somehow, and he got angry with heir. She'd still see the girl every

  day, and he had thought she would be proud to have her daughter brought

  up in such comfort and luxury, with such advantages. Part of Easter

  agreed with him. She knew the child would now be exposed to a life that

  Easter could never give her, and she wanted that for her daughter,

  although she had no idea what eventual use it might be to her. Mostly,

  she knew she would miss Queen, no matter how often she saw her. She would

  no longer affect the girl's upbringing, no longer have her to cherish on

  the cold nights when Jass was not with her, no longer be responsible for

  the flesh of her flesh. She also dreaded Lizzie's reaction, and what
<
br />   Lizzie might do to Queen. She thought that this was how her own mother

  must have felt when she learned that she was to

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  be sold away from her only child, and she wept for herself, and the mother

  she Could scarcely remember.

  Jass saw the tears, and tried to kiss them away, and put a positive face

  on the prospects for Queen. In the end, Easter had to agree. She had no

  choice. He was the Massa.

  And he was her love. His comforting caresses changed to intimate

  endearments, and she gave herself to him, as she always would, and gave

  him the most dear thing that was hers to give.

  She put a brave face on it, and told her daughter the good news, and was

  surprised by Queen's reaction. It seemed to come as no surprise to the

  girl. She listened gravely to her mother, and was silent for a little

  while afterward, and then asked if Miss Lizzie would beat her.

  She looked so lost and frightened, and so very tiny at that moment, far

  too small to be setting off on so great an adventure, that all Easter

  wanted to do was hold her close and run away somewhere with her, and keep

  her safe from Miss Lizzie and all the nasty things that might happen to

  her in life, r-un away even from Jass.

  She didn't run away. She couldn't: She had nowhere to go, nor the genuine

  desire to leave. She held her daughter close and whispered to her that

  the Massa and Miss Sally wouldn't let anyone hurt her. Queen stared into

  her eyes, as if looking to see if she was telling the truth, and seemed

  convinced, and almost smiled. Easter knew that something else was

  troubling her, and asked what it was.

  A tear moistened Queen's eye. "I don't have any nice dresses to wear,"

  she said, miserably.

  Easter's heart almost broke, and she spent the next few days making a

  couple of pretty dresses for Queen, and a smart little pinafore to wear

  over them, to keep them clean.

  Cap'n Jack was all in favor of the idea. To him, it was not similar to

  the situation with Annie, because Queen would still be with them. What

  was paramount in his mind was that Queen would now have the advantage of

  real learning, for undoubtedly she would go to school with Uzzie's

  children, and she would learn to dance, and how to conduct herself in

  social situations. She would learn how to become a lady, which was Capn

  Jack's immediate dream for her, and she

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  would be raised in her father's household, which, to him, was her true

  station. Tempered by the reality of a slave's existence, he saw Queen taking

  her first steps on the path to her true ascendancy, to her true place as her

  father's daughter.

  So it was that on a warm summer day, Easter took Queen to the main entrance

  of the big house. She knew she should have used the back door, but if her

  daughter was to be taken in by this family, then it 'would be done

  properly. Queen was neatly dressed and was wearing her new pinafore. Easter

  carried a small bag with the girl's other few belongings. She rang the

  bell.

  Still, Easter had a heavy heart, and she wondered what Queen was thinking.

  Queen had been excited all morning, and very nervous, but hadn't said very

  much. As they waited for a response to the bell, Queen seemed to be mulling

  something over in her mind, and then she looked at her mother.

  "Why the Massa come see you all the time?" she asked. Like he was my pappy."

  Easter knew that Queen must learn the truth of her parentage one day, that

  the other slaves would make sure of it, if they hadn't hinted at it

  already. Even so, it was difficult territory. For both of them.

  " Hush up 'bout yo' pappy, yo' hear, or I take a switch to you," she said,

  and the words were fiercer than her tone. "Yo' pappy ain't here, an' that's

  all there is about it!"

  Then she relented, for at that moment she didn't want Queen to have a

  pappy, not even Jass. She wanted her all for herself. She hugged her

  daughter.

  .' Jus' remember yo' got a mammy that love yo," she said tenderly. But she

  had to prepare her for the future.

  "And a Massa that love yo'. Jus' like he was yo' pappy."

  Parson Dick opened the door and was surprised to see them, but understood

  why Easter had not gone round the back. He almost smiled in sympathy, and

  led them into the hall, telling them to wait while he fetched the Missy.

  They were an odd couple, the two of them, and looked shabby, the

  half-caste, dowdily dressed woman and her tiny daughter, standing nervously

  in the grand hall with its chandeliers and sweeping staircase and somber

  portraits of all the Jackson family. The sheer magnificence frightened

  Queen and

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  brought home the truth of her situation to her. She would never be able

  to imagine this as her "new home" as Mammy had told her it would be. She'd

  never be able to run laughing down those stairs, or pad across that

  polished floor in bare, muddy feet, as she did at her old home. She

  clutched her mammy's hand tightly. -

  Lizzie came down the stairs, almost as nervous as they. She was

  especially irritated that Easter had used the front door, but had few

  ways of venting her displeasure, for who knew what the woman would tell

  Jass, and Jass was so adamant about this whole wretched business that

  Lizzie was not prepared to cross him. Nor was she about to lose the

  confrontation.

  "You should have used the back door," she said sharply.

  She stared at her rival, never having studied her before. Easter had

  always been a vague and shadowy figure to her before she learned the

  truth of Jass's affections, and since then Lizzie had scarcely been able

  to look at her.

  Now she did, because she had to, and because she could. She could not

  imagine what Jass saw in her. The woman had a certain thick-lipped

  prettiness about her but almost went out of her way to make the worst of

  herself, in that plain dress and dreadful scarf. "Mammy," Lizzie thought,

  "a regular nigra mammy," and wondered what it was that made her so

  desirable to her husband. Easter's disregard of her own beauty was almost

  painful to Lizzie, who took such care about her appearance, and her

  careless physical grace made even Lizzie understand something of the

  processes of physical desire. To save herself, she mentally dismissed

  Easter as an immoral slut who had some secret, sexual hold over Jass that

  Lizzie would never understand.

  Then there was the child. A scrawny midget of a thing, with no

  personality, staring at the floor and trying to hide in the folds of her

  mammy's dress.

  And white as cotton.

  "You may go," Lizzie said to Easter.

  Easter didn't go. She put her arm around Queen.

  "I still see her, Missy?" she begged in a plaintive voice that gave

  Lizzie, for the moment at least, all the power over this woman for which

 
she longed.

  "Of course you will. This is another house, not another

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  country," Lizzie said, without any trace of kindness. "But you should know-"

  She could not resist. She had to turn the situation to her advantage.

  --this is the Massa's decision. I do not approve of it." She would show

  this woman who was Mistress. "But since it is to be, the child will be

  given every advantage. She will be trained as a lady's maid, with all the

  necessary etiquette. So be careful when you see her. I do not want her

  learning your nigra ways."

  It had a different effect from that which Lizzie intended. The slave seemed

  to draw comfort from Lizzie's words. It was the Massa's decision, about the

  Massa's child, and it was Easter who had power over the Massa. Obviously,

  Lizzie did not want it to happen, but there was nothing she could do to

  stop it.

  " I only wants the best for her," she said, and Lizzie, to her horror,

  thought Easter was smiling.

  "What you want has nothing to do with it," she snapped. "We own her!"

  She let that sink in for a moment, and was then tired of it all. "Say

  good-bye to her and go."

  Easter knelt, hugged Queen to her, and whispered in the child's ear.

  " Yo' be a good girl, like I teached yo', and do what you tole, allus. Jus'

  like yo' had a new mammy-"

  Lizzie turned on her in fury. "I am her Mistress," she said. "Not her

  marnmy! "

  It frightened Queen, who clung close to Easter.

  "Come along, Queen."

  Queen didn't want to go, she didn't like Miss Lizzie, but her mammy kissed

  her, gave her the little bag, and pushed her forward.

  'Queen!" Lizzie commanded again.

  'Go with her," Easter whispered.

  Reluctantly, Queen moved forward. Lizzie was already climbing the enormous

  staircase. Head down, Queen followed her up, her tiny legs only able to

  take one step at a time. She looked up a couple of times to see where she

  was going, and all those grim people in all the pictures on the wall stared

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  down at her, ready, Queen was sure, to have her whipped if she did

  anything wrong.

  Once, she looked back. Her mammy was still standing in the hall, and

  Queen knew she was crying. She wanted with all her heart to run back down

  and hug her mammy, tell her not to cry, and go home with her to the

  weaving house, and wake up from this nightmare.

  But she had to do what her mammy and the Massa and her gran'pappy and

  everyone she knew told her she must.

  "Queen!" she heard Miss Lizzie shout, angrily.

  "Queen," she heard her mammy whisper.

  Queen was determined not to cry.

   PART THREE

  QUEEN

  Not they who soar, but they who plod Their rugged way, unhelped, to God

  Are heroes; they who higherfare, And,flying,fan the upper air, Miss all

  the toil that hugs the sod. 'Tis they whose backs haveftit the rod, Whose

  fiet have pressed the path unshod, May smile upon def~ated care, Not they

  who soar.

  -PAUL LAURFNCE DUNBAR

  51

  d . iQueen!"

  She heard William calling her again, but didn't respond, because he'd

  called several times, and she couldn't decide which bonnet to wear. She

  had only two, her dark-gray one for best and Sundays, and a blue one for

  other times. Today was not Sunday, but she was wearing her Sunday best

  dress and should have worn her gray bonnet, but she wanted to wear her

  blue one because it looked nicer. It was a little shabby, however, from

  constant use, and she hemmed and hawed and changed her mind, and her

  bonnet, a dozen times, while William, who had been ready half an hour

  earlier, had gone on ahead. Queen knew they were all waiting for her, but

  today was a big day. They were going to visit Missy Becky at The Sinks,

  which was a frequent event, and then they were going into town, which was

  not, and she wanted to look really pretty.

  She settled on the blue bonnet, grabbed her gloves and almost empty