Queen (114 page)

except once, and she was sure he must love his son. How could he not?

    Queen bathed William, and sat in the nursery room feeding

him, while Abner sprawled on the bed, irritable because of the

heat. Queen was determined to find Davis, but could think of

no way to achieve her goal. There was the possibility that she

might run into him in the street, but she didn't want to leave

anything to chance. When William was satisfied, she put him

to bed in his cot, and then took Abner downstairs, to eat her

own meal in the kitchen, with the hotel staff. The bellhops

and kitchen staff were talking about the strike, in complete

sympathy with it, and full of praise for this man Davis, who

had come to town when the men first walked off the job, and

had inspired them to their present defiant stand. Filled with

pride, Queen wanted to ask them how she might find this man,

but dared not. This was too public a place, and she was already

aware that some element of danger attended Davis. After she

had eaten, she found Mrs. Benson, and asked if she might be

allowed to have a few hours rest, she was not feeling well.

Slightly to her surprise, Mrs. Benson was fussily concerned

for her welfare, and agreed - to her request. Queen went to her

room and waited until she was sure Mrs. Benson would be

having her dinner with her husband, for they always ate at the

same time. She put Abner on her hip and slipped out into the

night to find Davis.

    She wandered the empty streets hoping that by chance he would appear, but

    he did not. She went back to the scene of the afternoon's meeting, looked

    around for some clue to his whereabouts, and saw a small, lighted tavern

    across the road. Some men were drinking outside, squatting against the

    wall, and she recognized a couple of them as strikers she had seen that

    afternoon. She went to them, but although they gave her appreciative

    whistles, they were wary of her, and ignored her. Adjusting Abner's shawl

    so that his color could be clearly seen, she summoned her courage and spoke

    to one of the men, and told him she wanted to find Davis. They shrugged and

    QUEEN 695

tried to send her on her way, but she said she would make a scene if they

didn't help. She put on a fine performance, claiming that Davis had

promised her marriage but had dumped her, leaving her with his baby, and

she wanted to give him a piece of her mind.

    Which was true, In her frustration with him-at his departure, at the

    difficulty of locating him, and now the difficulty of getting to

    him-Queen felt a genuine anger rising inside her. It convinced the men,

    but still they resisted her, until Queen's voice rose, and she threatened

    to call the sheriffs if they didn't help. The men begged her to silence

    and had a whispered conversation among themselves. One went into the

    tavern, and came out a few minutes later with another, older man, who

    questioned Queen, and looked carefully at Abner. Her story or her

    indignation, or both, convinced him, and he jerked his head to indicate

    that Queen should follow him. He and the striker who had called him led

    her to the back of the tavern, where the horses were tethered. They

    mounted, and the older man pulled Queen up behind him, while the younger

    rode with Abner in his arms.

    They rode for a couple of miles into the night, the moon lighting their

    way, until the farmland gave way to woods. About a mile into the trees,

    by a small body of water, a river or an inlet, there was a shack, guarded

    by two or three armed strikers. Queen could see at least two other black

    men, with guns, watching them from the trees. The guards at the shack

    accosted them as they brought their horses to a halt.

    "She say she know him," the older man told them. The guards looked at

    Queen doubtfully.

    " White bitch?" one murmured. Queen was still on her horse, and reached

    out her hand to Abner.

"This here my boy," she said.

    The younger striker offered Abner for the guard's inspection, and they

    looked from him to Queen. One of them told her to get down and wait, and

    he went into the shack. Queen dismounted and took Abner. She stood

    waiting in the hot, humid night, a little frightened by the guns, and

    thrilling in anticipation.

    After a few moments, the door of the shack opened, and Davis came out.

    He stared at Queen, and emotions rose within

696 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

her that were too complex for her to begin to understand, for his face was

filled with amazement, and then with pain.

Then he smiled, a sweet smile.

"Is it you?" he said.

    Queen nodded, not trusting herself to speak. And then a furious, blazing

    anger began in her belly, surged through her body, and burst out of her.

"Yes!" she cried. "And this is your boy!"

She marched up to Davis and thrust Abner at him.

"Didn't you even want to see what he looked like?"

    If Davis was surprised by her fury, he didn't show it. He stared at Queen,

    then looked at Abner, and, gentle as a shepherd with a lamb, he took his

    son from her, and held him close. Tears stung in his eyes.

    "I knew he would be beautiful," he whispered softly to Queen. "Like you."

    Queen saw his tears and almost started to cry herself, for his reaction to

    his son was more than she had ever hoped might be possible. But still she

    was angry with him, and loved him, all at once.

    "I had enough of yo' sweet talk to last me a lifetime," she said, and

    turned away from him. It was then that she saw that the strikers and the

    guards were smiling at her, laughing even, and her anger churned. She

    rounded on Davis.

    "You got any idea what it's like for a woman, stuck on her own with a baby,

    no man to turn to?" Like a festering boil, all the disappointments and

    deprivations of her life, the loneliness and injustice, the hurt and the

    misery, come to a hot and angry head, and were lanced by his tears. She was

    yelling at him now, and at the guards and strikers, and at all men.

    "I trusted you," she cried. "But, oh, you men, you gets what you want, and

    then the hell with us women. You could have told me. You could have

    written, but not even a word, or a letter-"

    "I cain't write, you know that!" Davis said, trying to control his temper.

    He had not expected her wrath, and he was hurt by it, and guilty.

    "Could've sent a paper with yo' mark on it," Queen retorted. "That would

    have been something-"

Suddenly he couldn't control his temper. His men were

    QUEEN 697

laughing almost openly, and his anger raged within him, and matched her

own. He gave Abner to a guard, marched to her, grabbed her and kissed her

violently, harshly, beautifully, on the mouth, but she pulled away from

him.

    "That's my mark!" he cried. "You had that! You got that! "

    He would not let her go, and kissed her again. And this time she

    responded to him, and kissed with all the passion that a life of

    frustration and a year of missing him, of loving him, and wanting him,

    and not having him, had engendered within her.

The shack was small and sparsely furnished, one room with a sleeping area

separated from the rest by a curtain. He brought her inside and dismissed

the strikers. They sat together for a while hardly talking, content to be

with each other. He rocked Abner to sleep on his lap, and the boy was

secure in his father's arms.

"He's a fine boy," Davis said.

"He's yo' son," Queen nodded.

    He had not asked what had happened to her while they had been apart, but

    now he did.

"Has it been hard for you?"

    Queen thought for a while before responding. It had been hard, but she

    had bome it, and now she had her reward.

... Tain't been easy," she said softly.

    "I's sorry," he said. He looked at the sleeping Abner, and Queen

    understood that it was time for something else to happen. She found a

    blanket and made a rough bed for her baby, then faced her man. She went

    to him, leaned up to him, and kissed him. He responded, but then stopped

    her.

"No," he said. "Do nothing. I owe you love."

    He picked her up, carried her to the bed, and laid her down. With

    infinite care, singing her soft crooning lullabies, he touched her,

    stroked her, kissed her, and each time she tried to respond, he told her

    no. Slowly, taking forever, he freed her from her clothes, and himself

    from his own. When she lay naked before him, he traced his tongue over

    her entire body until he tasted every inch of her, and with his fingers

    caressed her hair, her eyes, her mouth, her chin, her breasts, until she

698 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

thought she must faint from the beauty of it. He lay beside her, and the

warmth and hardness of him pressing against her was wonderful. She opened

her body to him, and her heart and her soul, and when they were joined as

one flesh she felt complete again, and whole, and all the trammeling care of

her life disappeared into a blaze of happiness that engulfed her.

    Afterward, they dozed together for a while, and when she awoke he was still

    there, it had not been a dream. But a sadness had settled on him.

"I cain't ask you to stay," he whispered. "It ain't safe."

"I don't care," she cried softly.

    "I care," he told her. "I will not have harm come to you. Or him."

She shivered in fear for him, and he held her close.

    "Should I be scared for you?" she whispered, and he could not hide the

    truth from her. Too much was at stake.

"Why not?" he said. "I scared for me."

    He wanted to rid her of her immediate fear, and explain the high, bright

    future that he saw.

    "This is where it begins," he said. "This is where the black man draws the

    line, and says enough, no more. This is where the promise that was made

    must be fulfilled."

    She believed him, and would have followed him to the end of the earth.

    Morning mist lazed over the river. The steel gray of dawn crept into the

    sky, and filtered though the window of the shack. A new day was beginning,

    but still they lay together.

"I gotta get back," Queen said.

"She be mad, yo' Missy?" he wondered.

    Queen expected that Mrs. Benson would be mad as hell, but she didn't care.

    A moment with Davis was worth a year of her anger. He made arrangements for

    her safe return to Beaufort, and watched her ride away into the morning

    with his son.

Davis had been shocked by his decision to desert Queen, although he could

never exactly pinpoint the moment when he had made up his mind to do it. It

might have been when she first told him of the child, it might have been as

they lay making plans for the future, or it might have been as the day

    QUEEN 699

of leaving approached and the call that he heard to do something else got

stronger and stronger. He was ashamed at what he was doing to her, but did

not believe he had any alternative, for the general good was greater than

her particular need. Queen, he guessed, or knew, or persuaded himself,

would survive, and while it would be hard for her, she had a friend to

turn to in Joyce. He also hoped that the sisters would be kind to her, as

it seemed, in general, they had been,

    He also believed himself to be worthless, and therefore not

worthy of her. Filled up with rage against the world, which

rage he contained when he was with Queen for he could find

no outlet for it, he believed that on ' e day that hate must explode

into some form of action or violence, and he did not want her

to be hurt by it. On the appointed day, he left the sisters' house

early, as had been planned. He went to his shack, put some

things in a bag, and began walking, away from Huntsville,

away from Alabama, away from Queen. He cursed himself as

he walked, and tried to console himself with the concept that

she had his seed inside her, the best part of him, but did not

convince himself. He made a vow that he would change his

wretched ways, that he would actively seek some effective role

in life, rather than passively accepting what life threw at him.

Later, when he found that role, he blessed Queen, for it was

she who had provoked him to it, and he thought of her fondly,

and his heart ached to see the product of their love.

    He went to Atlanta, and got himself a job assisting a blacksmith, as

    Abram had taught him, and was persuaded by the smithy, who was

    politically militant, to join the local guild. So it was that he found

    his voice, for the sense of brotherhood he obtained in the union was

    miraculous to him. For the first time in his life he felt he was not

    alone, that his grievances and anger were not unique to him. The shared