Queen (8 page)

    of the new.

    "I had wonderful times with Oliver," she said, "no matter how short. But

    he is gone from us, and we must look forward. "

    She had few plans of her own, but as yet she was still coming to terms

    with her widowhood, and asked what Jamie would do.

I 'America," he smiled, and Eleanor laughed.

    "Of course, a new land for a new century," she said. "It is the proper

    place for a young man to be. This old world is too decadent. "

    She folded her hands neatly on her lap, and looked at her young brother

    coyly.

    "It is not beyond the bounds of possibility that I might go there

    myself," she smiled.

42 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

    "But how could you leave Ireland?" he cried, both thrilled and shocked.

    Oliver was already perceived by the people as a martyr to the Irish

    cause, and she, as his widow, a heroine.

"Tush," she said. "As easily as you will do."

    She looked sad, and Jamie thought she might cry, and he knew that if she

    ever did leave Ireland it would not be as easy for her as she pretended.

    But she shook her head, and busied herself with his business. She asked

    if he had any money, and Jamie lied, but she knew that. She gave him a

    small purse of coins, and when he protested told him not to be a romantic

    fool.

"You have to eat, boy," she said. "You have to live."

    He took the purse, and she hesitated for a moment before asking her next

    question.

"Shall you go and see Father?"

    Jamie nodded. He had no alternative. His father was his only possible

    source of money for his passage, and he wanted to make his peace with the

    man who had given him birth, and whom he might never see again.

    He stayed with Eleanor until Washington came from Baltybay, to return to

    his school in Dublin. Washington was thrilled to see his daring brother,

    and they pumped hands and slapped each other on the back, and sparred

    with each other, laughingly, as brothers do. When he heard of Jamie's

    plans, Washington let out a yell of jealousy, because America was his

    dream; he longed to go there, and fight Indians. He swore he would join

    Jamie as soon as he had finished school, and they would have a rollicking

    time together. The brothers shared a room in Eleanor's house, and talked

    themselves to sleep each night with plans for the future. And they talked

    of Ballybay.

    Things had improved for their father, Washington told him, since the

    rebellion was put down. The local British had shown tokens of desire to

    make amends, and pretend they had no hard feelings. The linen mill was

    too valuable to them to do otherwise.

    Jamie bought new clothes with some of the money Eleanor had given him,

    and a cheap horse from the livery stables. He rode toward Ballybay, and

    saw the country with adult eyes, and not those of an impetuous boy. He

    loved it still, but it

    BLOODLINES 43

seemed dank, and a little dirty to him, and the grinding poverty of the

peasants depressed him. The white-walled cottages that had once

represented home to him looked small and shabby now, and he began to

despise the superstitious, docile peasants who had not been able to rid

their land of a governing power, despite their greater numbers. Bands of

homeless trekked the road, looking for shelter, and ignored him, or turned

away from him, for he was better dressed than they. Beggars were not so

fearful of him, and accosted him. Red-coated soldiers tramped the

highways, and would stop him, and ask for his papers, and snigger when

they saw he was banished. He despised being a marked man, and looked

forward to the new life that awaited him, not so far away, just across the

ocean.

    The song of America sang in his ears, and he was already casting off the

    shackles of his old country.

On reaching Ballybay, he went to Maureen and Patrick's cottage, to tell

them the details of Sean's brave death and lie about his burial. They

greeted him politely, but suspiciously. They knew their son was dead, and

Jamie's tales of his bravery hardly comforted them, for their hearts were

empty. They were glad he died as a hero, but they did not want him dead.

Jamie could not resist the feeling that they resented him, because he had

survived.

    He rode to his father's estate, and looked at the linen mill beside the

    river. From before his birth, hundreds of peasants had toiled there,

    earning a pittance from his wealthy father, whose sympathies lay not with

    them, but with himself, and the British. For a moment he was not sure

    which made him more angry, the blind acceptance by the peasants of their

    lot, or the exploitation of them by the ruling class.

    "They could get out, get away," he shouted to the wind, "Like me, to

    America!"

    The call of his new land, his new life exhilarated him, and he galloped

    up the drive to his father's house, loving the clean fresh air of

    freedom. Jugs might have been waiting for him, for she ran from the house

    when she heard his horse, and cried out his name. She threw her apron

    over her head, and sat on the steps weeping, because he was safe, and

    home again.

He turned her tears to laughter by picking her up and swing- 44 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

ing her round, gasping good-naturedly with the effort.

"Put me down," she cried. "I'm too heavy!"

    11 Yes, you are!" he laughed, and put her down. She held his face in her

    hands and looked at him closely, as if inspecting every pore of him, to

    see what the world had done to her boy. Satisfied that there were no

    visible scars of his wars, she hugged him, and old Quinn came by, looking

    older now, and walking with a stick. He shook Jamie's hand, and winked

    that he would hear all his news in the stable, when old Jugs was done

    with him.

    She took him to the kitchen, and fed him mugs of thick sweet tea, and

    oatcakes, and begged to hear all he had done.

    He told her of his adventures, but briefly, because he could tell Jugs

    did not want the details, they were too distressing for her. She crossed

    herself when he described how Scan died, and she cursed the British when

    he described Newgate Prison.

    He told her he had to leave Ireland, and where he would go. Jugs turned

    her head away, to compose herself.

    " 'Tis proper that ye go," she said. "There's nothing for ye here. "

She tried hard to look on the bright side.

    "And half of Ireland is there afore ye. Ye'll not lack for friends. "

But she could not hide her fear.

    "But, oh, Master Jamie," she cried. "Be careful of them Injuns. They's

    awful fierce, the heathen savages,"

    He laughed and said he would be very careful, and then asked after his

    father.

"In his study," Jugs said. "He's waiting for ye."

    Jamie went to his father's study, rapped on the door, and went in when

    called.

    James Jackson was writing at his desk, and finished his signature before

    he looked at his son. He stared at him for a few moments, and nodded his

    head, as if in approval.

    "You look none the worse for your misadventures," he said. "In fact, you

    look positively healthy."

"Good evening, sir," Jamie smiled. "I trust you are well."

    His father nodded again. "Things have come to a sorry pass," he said. "I

    told you no good would come of mixing with croppies. "

    BLOODLINES 45

Jamie felt a flash of anger, but controlled himself.

    "I blame myself, of course," his father continued. "I should have been

    stricter with you. I'm sorry if you found me wanting as a father. I tried

    to do my best by you."

    Jamie struggled hard to control a smile. It was hard for him to imagine

    how his father could have been stricter with him.

    ~'To make some small amends I have booked you a passage to America. It

    is not until April-it seems it is a popular destination. I suppose you

    will want to stay here until then."

    It was not a gracious invitation, but Jamie was pondering something else.

    How did he know about America? Had Eleanor told him'?

    He accepted the envelope his father gave him. "Thank you, sir," he said,

    but his father did not smile.

    "I have also made arrangements for some portion of the family funds that

    would have come to you to be sent in letters of credit for your use in

    Philadelphia."

    Uncle Henry had told him, Jamie guessed. He had not talked to Eleanor

    about Philadelphia.

    "After that," James Jackson said, "you may not expect another penny from

    me, during my life, or in my will."

    Jamie's cheeks flushed with angry shock. He had not expected much from

    his father, some few words of comfort, perhaps a little well-intentioned

    advice, or even a scolding. But he had not expected this. Banished and

    disinherited. It was a cruet world. He was being treated as an errant,

    headstrong boy. But he was not a boy anymore, he was a man, and he would

    show his father how much of a man he had become.

    "I will make my own way in this new world," he murmured, and could not

    stop his voice from rising. "I will be richer than you ever imagined, and

    more powerful than you have ever been. And I will use my money wisely,

    like Lord Fitzgerald and Oliver Bond, in the people's interest-"

    "The people," his father sneered. "The common rabble, you mean."

    Jamie was close to losing his temper and struggled to control himself.

    "I take this because I must," he said, holding up the envelope. "But I

    do not want one penny more of your money,

46 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

or your damned letters of credit, in your life or when you are dead. "

But he could not make his father believe him.

    '-You will never amount to anything," James Jackson said to his son.

    Jamie wanted to cry out or to hit him, but he did neither. All the hope

    of all the love he had ever wanted from his father came to nothing, and

    he believed that his father had never cared one whit for him, for if he

    cared, how could he disparage him so?

    "I will make a liar of you yet!" he shouted. Fists clenched in rage and

    bitter disappointment, he walked out of the room.

    Jugs was waiting for him in the hall. She had heard the shouting through

    the door, and tried to make amends.

    "He didn't mean it," she said. "He's been worried about ye.

    "He never cared about me for one day in his life," Jamie replied. "But

    I will show him-you wait and see. I'll prove him wrong."

James Jackson sat at his desk, his face livid with rage, his hands

trembling with anger. He had done his best by the boy, had offered him his

portion, and it had been thrown back in his face. He had tried to do his

best by all his children, and all were ungrateful, and had turned on him.

All had been given every possible benefit when young, but their wretched

flirtations with the nationalist movement had almost destroyed his life,

his business, and their inheritance. He could not understand their

stupidity and ingratitude.

He poured himself a brandy, and tried to calm down.

    He had not wanted children, except a son, to inherit what he had created.

    Sadly, children went hand in glove with what he did want, for he loved

    women, and needed their physical company. Since in order to have that

    physical companionship he must have children, and since because of his

    standing in the community he should have children, and because without

    an heir everything he worked for would die with him, he had raised a

    family. He was quite fond of each of them when they were little, but

    intolerant of their demands on his time. The difficulty of running and

    expanding a business such as his in

    BLOODLINES 47

these troubled times had taken all his energy. He had provided his family

with everything they needed, had employed nannies and teachers for them,

and had asked, in return, simply that they behave themselves and not

trouble him. Surely that was not selfish? But they had troubled him, to

distraction, and when he could not accommodate the demands they made on

him, they had turned against him. He did not mind the behavior of the

girls so much, for they, at least, were pretty and womanly, and he

actually admired and defended Eleanor, despite his opposition to her

marriage. It was the boys who were truculent and troublesome, and he

wondered if there was too much of himself in them, or if he simply envied

their strength and youth and vitality. Most of all, he was disappointed

in Jamie, who shared his love of horse racing, and who, he thought, might

have been his true heir. In the end, even Jamie had let him down, and was