Yellow Wife Page 4
The silence between us grew like a presence in the room. Then a bigger worry weighed down on me. “When did this thing between you start?”
Essex’s face flashed pain. “ ’Fore the winter festival.”
I counted the months by my fingers, then counted again to be sure.
“What you doin’?”
“Missus could be carrying your baby.”
He winced. “What you mean?”
“Enough moons have passed to line up with how long you been… together.”
Essex grabbed his ears and started pacing the floor. “I don’t want this trouble on my head.”
“If Missus have a dark baby, she still gon’ accuse you of rape. Be her word against yours. You be hanging from the tree fast as Snitch could get to you.”
“I have dishonored you, Pheby, to survive, and you telling me my circumstance is gettin’ worst?” He stopped walking.
“We have to get you off this plantation before that baby is born. You have to run.”
I could see the degrees of emotion as they passed through his eyes; then he clenched his jaw tight. “Ain’t leaving here without you. Got to come with me, Pheby.”
I swayed unsteadily on my feet, smoothed back my hair, and tried to regain my bearings. “I better get back to the house ’fore I am missed.”
“Pheby.” He reached for me but I slid away.
“You have dumped a lot on me tonight. Wrecked me in my core. Just give me a little time to sort things.” I let myself down the ladder.
When I got outside, it had started to rain. I trampled through the wet grass feeling a heaviness in my soul. It made me more tired than all my work combined.
CHAPTER 5
Betrayal
I tried to focus on my morning chores, but pain dragged behind me like a weight chained to my ankle. I could not stop picturing Missus all over Essex. Kissing him, touching him, finding pleasure with him. The vision of them together made me sick to my stomach. Even though I knew Essex had no choice, my heart hurt no less. Last night was supposed to be special, and Missus Delphina took that opportunity away from me.
When she called me to dress her that morning, I wanted to wrap my hands around her neck until her eyes popped out of the sockets. She had everything. Why did she have to take what was mine too? As I yanked her corset over her belly, all I kept thinking was that her baby could be Essex’s. Essex could be killed over the child she carried, and I knew it fell on me to help him escape.
All my agony made me terrible at my responsibilities. Lovie caught me staring off several times and cautioned me to get my head right, but not even her chastising fixed my concentration on my work. In the two days that followed Essex’s confession, I broke two bowls, skinned my knee, spilled Missus’s coffee in her lap, and uprooted radishes that were not ripe. Aunt Hope sent me to the henhouse for a basket of fresh eggs and I wasted three on the floor. Down on my knees, mopping up the spill, was where Essex finally found me.
“We needin’ to talk.”
I wiped the sticky yolk on the front of my apron. It was the first time I had seen him since we talked, and as much as I wanted to stand in anger, I still loved him. Still wanted him.
“Aunt Hope is waiting on these eggs.”
“Meet me in the stables in ten minutes,” he whispered.
I left the eggs with Aunt Hope and mentioned that I would be in the loom house letting out Missus’s petticoat. She nodded, humming one of her Jesus songs while mixing a wet batter for the fried flounder we would eat later. I ducked around to the back of the stables, and before I could cough, Essex opened the side door and pulled me in. He led me to the stall, tucking us behind a horse named Thunder.
“Best place for us to talk during the day.”
I held my breath so as not to breathe in the stink of horse manure. Essex put his mouth to my ear and spoke so soft that I struggled to hear him.
“Been thinking about my escape route.”
I reached into my hidden skirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“What’s that?”
“It is a map I stole from one of Miss Sally’s books. Part of my geography lessons with her.” I opened it up and pushed it against the wall so that we could both see.
“I traced the route north for you last night. Traveling by dark and hiding during the day would be your best defense against the slave catchers.”
His hand grazed mine, sending a familiar spark up my spine, as he took the map from me. I watched as he dug a hole in a bale of hay and stuffed the map deep inside.
“You brilliant, Pheby.”
I searched the dark space for his eyes. “You are not afraid?”
“Been thinkin’ about running when you set free for a long time. Guess I’s just getting a head start.”
I shuddered in my skin, scared for him. It seemed such a long way to freedom. “It is dangerous, Essex.”
“Come with me.” He grabbed my hands. “Two heads better than one. We can stand back-to-back and fight off the enemy together. At night, keep each other warm.”
“But Mama—”
“We can make it.”
I dropped his hands. “Mama has worked hard on securing my freedom. Seems like before I was even born. I owe it to her to see her plan through.”
“You trust Massa that much?”
“I do.”
Essex bit down on his bottom lip.
“I think we had better bring Aunt Hope in on the plan. Jasper was her son, and the only slave who made it off this plantation.”
He nodded. “But I want you to come, Pheby. Cain’t picture my life without you.”
I put my finger to his lips. “Everything happening so fast now.”
“You forgive me?” He pulled me to him so tight, it was hard to see where one of us began and the other ended.
I knew our time together was limited. No sense wasting it carrying a grudge. “Past is in the past. Got to move forward.”
“Ain’t leaving here without you.”
I touched his face with the back of my hand, kissed his cheek, and then turned for the big house.
* * *
The next morning, I went down to the kitchen house to fetch Missus’s breakfast tray. Aunt Hope had just poured the coffee and covered the pot with tin. I stood next to her and whispered in her ear. “Essex in trouble.”
“Kind?”
“Big kind.”
Aunt Hope dropped her head under the table like she searched for something in case Missus snuck up on us with those hawk eyes and dog ears.
“Meet you t’night. Once she go down.”
That evening, I ground up some magnolia bark and stirred it into Missus’s evening cup of tea. It made her so sleepy that she waved off her nightly read of Godey’s Lady’s Book. When I heard her snoring, I tiptoed out. I listened for odd noises and footsteps near the kitchen house before tapping the door three times like Aunt Hope and I planned. Under the cover of night, she and I headed to the stables. I coughed and Essex opened the side door.
“Two days in a row.” He smiled at me, then greeted Aunt Hope by taking her hand. Essex led us into the back of the stables in the same small space behind the horse, Thunder. If anyone came in, we could crouch low and not be seen. Aunt Hope sat down on a haystack and then unwrapped fish and biscuits from a handkerchief and handed a bit to each of us. We ate in silence.
Essex’s eyes were on me.
“Now your belly full, what is it?”
I opened my mouth and recalled Essex’s confession. When I finished, he balled up his fist, but Aunt Hope did not look surprised.
“Whites always want to lay wit’ us and leave us wit’ they problems.”
“Then get rid of us to hide their indiscretions,” I added.
Essex started pacing the small space of floor.
“Ya mama teach you how to mix herbs to lose a baby?”
“No.” I felt embarrassed that I had not asked Mama more questions about her medicine. “Anyway, Missus
too far along for herbs.”
“What you goin’ do?” Aunt Hope looked up at Essex.
“He has to run. I tore him a map from one of Miss Sally’s books.”
“Timing is everything,” Aunt Hope said. “How soon?”
“Soon as I can,” replied Essex.
“Got to be before the baby is born,” I pushed. “Aunt Hope, Jasper the only one made it off this plantation.”
“And they drag him back here like a mangy dog.”
“We thought you could tell us his plan.” I tried jogging any memories she might recall.
“Jasper’s plan was to make it up to Balt’more, find work at the docks, and then save money to get to New York.” She turned to me. “Best for Essex if you write him a pass from the Missus. Give him some protection out there.”
“I can try in the morning, while she walking the plantation.”
“I pack you provisions and one of my good knives.” Aunt Hope moved to stand. “Pheby, you goin’ too?”
“Master promised me papers when I turn eighteen. He promised Mama.”
Aunt Hope let out a bitter laugh. “White folks’ promises ain’t but dust. ’Specially the white folks called Massa.” She stood up and hissed over her shoulder, “The blood ones hurt you most.”
She closed the door behind her, but I suddenly felt cold. Something took hold of my body, and even wrapped in my shawl, I could not shake it.
“Come here.” Essex held my hand and led me up to the loft above the horses. When we kissed, I felt like a dying woman and his lips my only antidote. This raw, desperate hunger for him dulled my sense of logic and reason, and I considered running with him.
“I love you, Essex Henry,” I breathed, and he swallowed my words down in his throat. I saw them when I sucked on the spot. His hands fevered me everywhere, and our clothes melted away from our skin as we clumsily found the straw bed. My need for him grew more impatient with each inhalation. I sought for him to reach my cold spots and make them fiery again. We rocked and clung until our circumstance drifted away. A quiver rolled through me as his sweaty body convulsed against mine, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, absorbing all his fears and worries.
The fluids between us dried, but we were too exhausted to dress. My fingers caressed Essex’s chest while I contemplated. Lovemaking must be equivalent to the feeling of freedom. No ties to time or space, hindrance or restraints.
“Come with me, Pheby. I will protect you. You heard Aunt Hope. We cain’t trust any of them. You all I got.”
I grabbed his face and kissed him long and hard, until his desire for me stirred and I could offer him more.
CHAPTER 6
Homecoming
Master’s promise of freedom had lived inside of me for so long, I found it hard to let it go. Mama talked of it as often as she did her recipes for healing, weaving it into the fabric of my life. All Essex talked about was me running with him, and the conversations filled me with dread. I wanted to speak to Mama, needed her wisdom to help me make sense of it all.
A few weeks passed, then a letter from Master Jacob arrived. Missus left it on her writing desk, so I waited for her to take her evening walk around the plantation before I read it in secret. It said that Master would be home by the sixth of July, and for her to let Aunt Hope know that he wanted her to slaughter a hog to celebrate his good fortune in his business affairs and his return. Our preparations to receive him began right away; the entire house had to be deep cleaned including the windows inside and out, his favorite foods prepared, and the lawns and bushes manicured. Missus Delphina worked us from dawn to dark for nearly a week. We were all relieved when she gave us a rare half day’s rest on the Sabbath.
Aunt Hope sent me to the smokehouse to fetch the pork drippings, right after I had finished bathing and washing my own clothes. Now I would have the smell of smoke in my hair. I had just placed a small sample of meat between my lips when I heard the plantation bell. One. Two.
I lifted the left side of my skirt while balancing the meat in my right palm, walking swiftly past the garden and over to the side of the house to hear the announcement. When I got there, I saw that Lovie had rung the bell. She beckoned me over and whispered.
“Pheby, Missus needin’ you directly. Massa’s carriage been spotted. He on his way home.” She beamed.
I tucked the meat under a cloth and dropped it off in the scullery. My heart thudded against my chest as I bounded quickly up the narrow steps, then took three seconds at Missus’s bedroom door to steady my breath before entering. When I walked in, she threw a fork at me and it hit me in the arm. I bit my lip so as to not yell out.
“Why are you always moving to your own time? Get down my green dress now.”
“I do not think that one still fits.” I gestured to her protruding belly. According to Lovie’s calculation, Missus had about another month and a half to go before the baby would arrive.
That did not leave Essex much time.
“Did I ask for your wretched opinion?” She moved to slap me but I sidestepped it, then dropped down to the floor as if I were searching for her shoes. Bruises already paraded up and down my arms from her constant hits and pinches. Gave me a mind to push her down the stairs to help get rid of the baby, and all of Essex’s problems with it.
Lovie appeared in the doorway. “Missus.”
“Maybe you can help me change, since Ninny does not know her head from a doorknob.” She pursed her lips.
“Somethin’ wrong…”
“What is it?”
“There been an accident. Parrott had to leave Massa at the doctor’s house nearin’ your parents’ farm.”
“Is Jacob all right?” Missus stood wringing her hands like she did not know what to do next. Lovie took Missus by the elbow and ushered her down into a chair, then started fanning her. I poured a glass of water from the pitcher, but Missus would not take it. If Master suffered an injury, then what about Mama?
“Go ask Aunt Hope to make Missus a cuppa strong tea.” Lovie made her eyes big at me and mouthed, “It’s Ruth.”
On my toes was the best way to run through the house without producing a sound that would further wreck Missus’s nerves. I flew from the front door and down the stairs. When I got to the carriage, Parrott had Mama in his arms and was carrying her across the lawn toward the loom house.
“Mama?”
“She hurt,” Parrott called over his shoulder. He heaved Mama up the ladder and placed her on the bed.
“Tell me what happened,” I urged Parrott. He looked like the trip had aged him. A fistful of gray had sprouted in his beard. He lowered himself down in Mama’s chair.
“We were coming through Jamestown and out of nowhere came two wild horses. Spook’t our horses and they took off runnin’. We hit a ditch and the wheel pop off. Massa and Ruth thrown from the carriage. I held on by the streng’t a God. Happened so fast.”
“Tell me what to do.” I leaned down to Mama, her face twisted in pain.
“Give me a sip from the brown jar.”
The brown jar was Mama’s strongest medicine. The thought of giving it to her scared me, but then I noticed the smell. The scent of infected flesh burned through my nose and turned my stomach over. Mama’s right leg was cut from the top of her thigh to below her knee. I covered my mouth to keep from choking.
“How long she been like this?”
“Two days. Rode as fast I could after fixin’ the wagon.”
“Feel like gangrene,” Mama breathed. “Get camphor from the shelf.” I left Mama’s side long enough to locate the bottle.
“Pour till it bubble.”
Once the wound was cleaned, I remembered what I needed to wrap it with.
“Be back directly.”
There was yarrow growing alongside the stone fence in Missus’s garden. Mama had told me the plant worked wonders in drawing out infection. I stuffed as many as I could in my pocket and had two fistfuls in my hands when I heard Lovie shouting my name. I looked up, and sh
e had pushed her head through Missus’s bedroom window.
“Make haste!”
I dropped the yarrow that did not fit in my pockets and sprinted up to Missus Delphina’s bedroom. Lovie stood over Missus with a cloth to her head as she squirmed in the bed.
“Baby coming early. Needin’ you to help deliver it.”
“What about the doctor?”
“Missus said she ain’t want a doctor. Gotta be you,” Lovie said, and narrowed her eyes in a way that let me know she was aware of the trouble.
I had attended many births with Mama but had never delivered one alone without her help. I tried to ease the panic growing in my chest. If I stayed here delivering Missus’s baby, then who would care for Mama? Her wound was wide open. Missus moaned, and I had no choice but to wash my hands and feel for the baby. I shoved my fingers and then my arm inside of her but did not touch the head.
She groaned louder. “Get it out.”
“Soon, Missus,” I assured her.
Lovie rubbed Missus Delphina’s forehead with a damp cloth and forced her to drink a little wine to dull the pain. I had never seen Missus so helpless, and would have felt sorry for her if not for Mama lying in the loom house equally distraught. Aunt Hope appeared in the doorway with a bowl.
“Brought soup, ma’am.”
But Missus could only stomach a few spoonfuls before she threw it all up.
“Got to get something down in her stomach for streng’t,” Aunt Hope said, and then tried a little more. “Missus, you wantin’ to write Essex a pass to ride out to the doctor’s house and get a word on Massa’s condition?”
Missus Delphina clenched her teeth as pain ripped through her.
“Hand me my stationery.” Sweat dampened her forehead as she scribbled a note that she gave to Aunt Hope.
“Pheby, come get clean water and towels.” Aunt Hope gestured for me to follow her out.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I asked, “You see about Mama?”
“She sleepin’ now.”
I handed her the yarrow. “Pack this loosely over her wounds. She getting any better?”