Authors: Alex Haley
his treatment of slaves, and James had hired him at once. A man who used
the whip as punishment of last resort rather than weapon of first
defense, he had made some improvements to conditions for the slaves, and
they, in return, had given a somewhat better productivity. Slaves were
never sold away now, and were only purchased when absolutely necessary,
both the Massa and the overseer preferring to train their own people,
born and bred on the plantation. It was a poor substitute for freedom,
but it was generally agreed that if you had to be a slave, The Forks was
one of the better places to be.
If you had to be a slave. They all had a dream of freedom and prayed for
a miracle that would somehow deliver them from their bondage, but the
dreams and the prayers were tempered by the reality of their existence.
The known was preferable to the unknown, and although the younger men
talked of running away, they had no clear idea of where they would run
to, except the vague, distant North, Up South as the slaves called it,
and between them and any viable sanctuary was a hostile, perilous
environment that few believed they would survive.
In the chaos of gossip and hysteria that attended the Nat Turner
rebellion, one of their number, Samuel, a rash young man, saw cause for
hope and did run away. It was one of the few times when Mitchell had
thought it necessary to display
226 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
his authority, and they had been locked in their quarters, even Cap'n Jack
and Easter, the men shackled, until Samuel was returned. Mitchell employed
slave catchers, with instructions that the runaway was not to be unduly
harmed, and after a week they brought him back, hungry and miserable,
bruised and bleeding from the unnecessary beating the catchers had
insisted was necessary for his recapture. Samuel had been chained to a
tree for a week, the time of his absence, through the blazing days of
August, until Mitchell believed his promises that he would never attempt
to escape again.
Samuel kept his word. For months he would not even talk of his time away,
but as his wounds of spirit and body healed, he started to brag of it,
the extent and unlikeliness of his adventures expanding with every
telling, until they all devoutly wished he would shut up.
Freedom, then, was a double-edged sword, a longed-for dream and a
terrifying prospect, and to someone of Tiara's years, not something she
could easily imagine in her lifetime. But she hugged Isaac to her again,
and begged sweet Jesus in heaven to make it a reality for him.
A distraction arrived, in the form of Parson Dick.
Immaculately attired, as always, Parson Dick looked considerably out of
place in this community of field hands. Although black, he was more of
an outsider here than the white youth, Jass.
"Cap'n Jack, the Massa want to see you," he called. "You too, Massa Jass.
" Duty done, he sniffed the air. "My, Missus Tiara, that pot likker sure
smell fine-"
Although his elocution was usually flawless, Parson Dick could fall into
slave idiom whenever it suited him. He thrived on knowledge, on gossip,
loved to keep his finger on the pulse of the field slaves' thinking, and
Tiara, an old sparring partner, was the key to that world.
Tiara glared at him. "Yo' get yo victuals up the big house, Parson Dick,
where yo' belong. We ain't good enough fo' house niggers like yo'." But
she nodded to her daughter, Minnie, who got up and went to the pot with
a bowl.
" But you gettin' mighty thin, Parson Dick, on all that white livin',"
Tiara chortled. "Have some real food, mebbe put a little color back in
yo' cheeks."
MERGING 227
Everyone laughed, although they were never quite sure of Parson Dick. He
settled comfortably on a log and accepted the bowl of pot likker from
Minnie. "The Massa waitin'," he told Jass and Cap'n Jack, who now got up
to leave.
There was a small silence, which Parson Dick broke, knowing that nothing
would be teamed from Tiara without something in return. "Be a whole lot
of stitchin' goin' on," he began. "Gettin' ready for the wedding."
Tiara nodded. It was the introduction to gossip from the big house, which
she loved. It was also the last thing Jass heard as he walked away, and
it reminded him of Easter.
"I could ask my father," he told Cap'n Jack. "But I don't think he'd
agree."
"Mebbe," Cap'n Jack said, and his tone told Jass to say nothing to James.
"Mebbe."
Easter, bored with brushing her hair, had not joined the other slaves for
the evening, as was her habit, because she was still miffed with Jass,
and the world, and she wanted him to cQme to her. She looked out of the
window and saw her father walking to the big house with Jass. She prayed
that Cap'n Jack was telling him about her desire to go to the wedding,
about which she had poured out her distressed heart to her father for a
solid hour, and that Jass, being the young Massa, would do something
about it.
Just in case God wasn't in a listening mood, she crossed her fingers and
allowed herself to dream.
28
Jass loved his father's study. All the other rooms at The Forks
reflected Sally's personality, and although she had been re
sponsible for decorating this room, his father's untidiness pre
vailed. The floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with books, the
clutter of heavy furniture, and the imposing oak desk sug
gested a world where women seldom came-and they seldom
228 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
did, except as occasional visitors, or as maids, to clean.
James busied himself with the copious papers on the desk, for he was not
looking forward to this interview with his son. Cap'n Jack waited near
the door,
James looked at Jass, and his spirit failed him slightly. The boy simply
looked too young to be a serious participant in the conversation James
had in mind, so he delayed matters by turning his attention to Cap'n
Jack.
"Our old friend Alfred is getting married at last," he announced, stating
what was for everyone, by now, the obvious.
Cap'n Jack was courteous. "Yes, suh, I hear, suh."
James found the letter he pretended to have been looking for, which had
never been lost.
" You'll be coming to Nashville, of course, to valet master Jass and
myself. But there's more-"
He held out the letter. Cap'n Jack looked reluctant. Jass smiled to
himself, for what was being played out was a continuing charade.
" I cain't read, suh," Cap'n Jack lied reasonably. "Tain't legal."
James was not in a mood to waste time. "For heaven's sake, you can read
as well as I-- he began, but knew he was wasting his breath. Whatever the
truth of the matter, Cap'n Jack would never admit his education, even in
the confines of this room, where he had no enemies.
"Oh, very well," James gave in, and glanced at the letter. "The president
says that Alfred has requested you as his best man. Of course, you have
my pen-nission."
Cap'n Jack smiled happily. "Why, that's wonderful news, suh. Will you
write that I accept?"
" I already have," James said. "I thought you would like to know. Thank
you, Cap'n Jack."
Jass guessed that his father was simply procrastinating, that he had
something more serious he wanted to discuss, with Jass, but was playing
for time with Cap'n Jack. Please don't let it be about girls, Jass sent
up an urgent prayer to heaven. They'd had a brief aimless discussion of
morality some months ago, which ended with his father's admonition, "You
know about girls, I'm sure. Don't ever be discourteous, or unmannerly,
or, damn it, base, toward them," and had left
MERGING 229
whatever other information his son might need to Cap'n Jack, the men of
the slave quarters, and the other boys at school. Jass had been even more
embarrassed than James by his father's inconsequential ramblings and he
now hoped Cap'n Jack wouldn't leave.
That part of his prayer was answered, for Cap'n Jack didn't go. He
hovered by the door, until James, who had returned his attention to the
papers on his desk, looked up. "What is it?" he asked.
"My daughter, suh, Easter. Annie's girl. She want so much to go to the
wedding. Would mean a lot to her."
"Well, of course she can go," James interrupted, completely aware of the
not so subtle emotional blackmail that was being used. Any mention of
Annie stiffed his conscience, reminding him of things he would rather
forget. Still, some role had to be found for Easter.
"She can maid Sassy. Angel can teach her." Angel was Sally's maid.
"Yes, suh, thank you very much, sub. I tell her tomorrow, and she learn
good." Cap'n Jack was duly grateful, but a slight twinkle of triumphant
conspiracy passed between him and Jass. "Good night, Massa."
Jass could hardly conceal the grin of delight that sneaked to his face.
Cap'n Jack gave the merest wink to Jass before bowing to his master and
leaving, and somehow Jass understood that the secret was to be kept from
Easter for a little while at least, and that he would be the one to tell
her.
"Well," said James, when they were alone. "Would you care for some port?"
Jass found himself caught in an agony of ambivalence, not for the first
time that day. His father had never offered him port before, and part of
Jass was cock-a-hoop that he seemed to have crossed some line of
demarcation between boyhood and manhood with his father. Another part of
him groaned inwardly. Almost certainly, this meant they were going to
talk about girls.
"Perhaps a small one, sir." He accepted the invitation, and James nodded
at the decanter on his desk. Jass moved forward to pour himself a glass.
230 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
In the hall, Sally was fiddling, picking dead buds from flowers in a
vase, when Cap'n Jack came out of the study. She looked at him and he at
her. They were old conspirators, and he left the library door slightly
open, so that Sally could hear the conversation within.
Then he looked for something equally trivial to do, and began trimming
candles.
Jass sipped his port and thought it wonderful. He had seldom drunk any
alcohol, except at celebrations, and then only watered wine. He loved the
taste of this sweet, thick liquid, loved the gentle fire that traced
through his body as the wine did its work, and loved the small sense of
equality it gave him with his sometimes distant father.
"Do you like it?" James asked.
"Very much, sir," Jass responded, nodding his head and taking another,
confirming, sip of port.
There was a tiny silence, and then James took the plunge.
"It's never been easy for me to discuss personal matters with you, Jass,"
he began, and, having begun, found it easier than he had expected. "There
are things I thought I would not have to discuss with you, but because
of your brother's untimely death-"
He stopped, momentarily. A.J.'s accident had caused him terrible grief.
Like Sally, he simply didn't discuss it with anyone, and tried not to
think about it. It had become easier, of course. Time had healed the
worst of the pain, although the aching hurt still washed across him in
unguarded moments, causing, if only for an instant, an overwhelming sense
of loss and of the unfairness of it. He looked at Jass, and could not,
in all honesty, see in his eager second son an adequate substitute for
his first.
"With A.J. gone," he continued, "you will now inherit all this." The
vague "all this" implied a considerable fortune. "We have never talked
about it, and it's time we did."
11 Yes, sir," Jass responded dutifully.
"It is not easy, Jass," James said, wondering if he should call him
James, "to be master of such responsibilities as I will leave to you. I
hope, of course, that I will be with you for many years, and the
assumption of your eventual role will be gradual. I will ease you into
it, and you will always be able to come to me for advice and
consideration."
MERGING 231
1 sound so pompous, thought James. Like my own father. What must the boy
think of me? Why can't I come to the heart of the matter?
"It is not easy being master," he said again, unnecessarily, and stopped
again. We're getting nowhere, he thought.
" But," he said, and knew it had to be now, "I won't always be here. And