Queen (94 page)

but it was dark, and he found nothing.

    Lizzie sided with the Hendersons. Surely Queen had run away, like so many

    other slaves. And it was such a relief. All her married life there had been

    a barrier between herself and Jass. It had hurt her desperately when he

    went off to Easter at night, leaving Lizzie to pine for him. It had hurt

    her more when Jass brought the brat child to live in the big house, to have

    her nearer to him, and to flaunt his love for Easter in her face. Even

    after Easter had died, the hurt remained. She wished no harm to Queen, she

    hoped she wasn't hurt, but she had to believe that Queen was gone for good.

    Because every time she looked at Queen, it reminded her of Easter, and re-

    minded her that her husband had loved another woman more than her. A nigra.

    She was angry with Queen for giving no indication of her intentions, and

    Jass for worrying about her; she banged pots on the stove as she prepared

    some food, and prayed that she would never have to see Queen again.

    She went out to the veranda to tell Jass his meal was ready, and he nodded,

    and said he'd be in directly.

    "Are you going to sit here all night?" Lizzie asked him. Jass turned to

    look at her, and Lizzie hated what she saw in his eyes.

    "Well, it's on the table when you're ready," she snapped. "Don't blame me

    if it gets cold."

    She went into the house and called Sally to the table. They ate their meal

    in silence. Sally, like Lizzie, was sure that Queen had run away, and it

    hurt her that the child had not said good-bye, but she could hardly blame

    her.

    Jass stared at the moon, convinced that some mischief had befallen Queen,

    but not knowing what to do, or how to begin to find her. In the silence

    that surrounded him, he heard a sound that was not of the night. It was the

    clinking of a horse's bridle.

    QUEEN 571

    Queen's horse came trotting up the drive to him. Jass went to the animal

    and held it, felt it for injury, and then looked to the stars.

He took the horse to the stable to give it feed.

Queen ate her fill of the simple stew, and sat staring at the campfire.

The black men were still hostile to her. "She ain't stayin'," one said,

and Pearl turned on him.

    "She a po' nigger, like us, an' she tired an' scared," she said. "We look

    after her, like we would any nigger."

    The men lapsed into aggressive silence, and Pearl put her arm around

    Queen.

    "Is yo' tired?" she asked, and Queen nodded, suddenly desperately,

    achingly tired.

    Pearl fetched a blanket from a lean-to, and wrapped it around Queen. "Lie

    down here by the fire," she ordered, and Queen did as she was bidden.

    "Keep yo' warm," Pearl said, 11 give yo' light to see. Yo' is safe now.

    Yo' with yo' own nigger folk now."

    Queen tightened the blanket around her, and stared at the flames of the

    fire.

    "She ain't stayin'," she heard one of the men say. "Fust light, she

    leavin'."

    Pearl ignored him, and started to sing a soft lullaby. The flames of the

    fire danced in Queen's eyes. She wasn't wanted here, and would not stay.

    This was not- her place. These were not her people.

    But neither was The Forks of Cypress. She did not fit into this world or

    that. She stared at the flames, and in her mind they became threatening.

    She thought she could see the buming brands of her pursuers, and those

    flames would haunt her for the rest of her life.

    There was only the night. And the fire. And the soft, sweet lullaby.

    66

lass was up at first light. He took some bread and cheese from the kitchen,

saddled a horse, and went looking for Queen. He intended to ask at every

house in the district, search every barn if need be, but his first call was

to the Hendersons. They had not told him all they knew, he was sure. As he

rode, he contemplated offering a small reward for information as to her

whereabouts, but wondered if that was fair to her. If she had run away,

which he did not for one moment believe, then perhaps she would not want to

be found.

He cursed himself for a blind, selfish fool. Lizzie had been angry with him

all the previous evening, had hardly spoken to him until they went to bed,

and when he tried to caress her, she turned away from him. He'd provoked

her to tell him what was wrong, and then all of her frustrations came

tumbling out. Jass was astonished, and bitterly regretful. He had never re-

alized how deeply his relationship with Easter had hurt Lizzie, and how

much she resented Queen's presence in the big house. He had thought that

Lizzie approved of Easter, because her presence reduced his sexual need for

his wife, who had not seemed to welcome their lovernaking. In that sense

he was right, but now he understood that it was not the physical side of

his relationship with Easter that infuriated Lizzie, it was the love.

"She made you smile, she made you laugh, she made you happy, in a way that

I never could," Lizzie had told him through her tears. And it was true.

" But you are my wife," he told Lizzie, "and I love you."

"More than you loved her?" Lizzie asked, and all he could say was that it

was different.

He should not have brought Queen into the big house; he should have known

that just looking at the child was a slap

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    QUEEN 573

in the face to Lizzie, for Queen was the embodiment of Easter.

"Easter was just a slave," Jass insisted. "A nigra-"

    "Yes!" Lizzie cried. "And you loved her." And it was true.

"I couldn't ignore the child," he insisted again.

    "But did you have to love her?" Lizzie cried again. And it was true.

    He did love Queen, but not as he loved his children by Lizzie; they were

    different, flesh of his formal union with his legal wife, his heirs, his

    darlings. Queen was an enchantment, a toy, a plaything, a little innocent

    doll that he had created, who gave him pleasure.

    "And what about my pleasure?" Lizzie asked him, quietly now, for her

    crying was done. "Did you ever consider that?"

    And it was true. He had not considered her. He had been a good husband

    and provider, and he had done his duty by their marriage. But he had

    never considered Lizzie's feelings, she who should have had tirst demand

    on him.

    "I'll make it up to you somehow, Lizzie, I swear," he promised her,

    caressing her swollen stomach.

"But you will not forget Queen," she said. And it was true.

    He would tind her and he would bring her home, if she wanted to come

    home, and he had no idea what arrangements he would make for their future

    so that all could be happy, but although he would respect Lizzie's

    feelings and be more attentive to her, he would not dismiss Queen.

Queen woke at dawn, bitten by mosquitoes and stiff and sore. The men would

not speak to her, but Pearl made her something to eat, and told her how

to get back to The Forks, but reluctantly.

"Ain't nuttin' to' yo' there," she said.

    Queen shrugged, not knowing what to say. She walked north through the

    woods, as Pearl had told her, and two hours later she broke through the

    trees, and saw the familiar road home. Dirty and disheveled, burrs

    sticking in her hair, she limped to The Forks, turned in at the gate, and

    made her way up the drive. She walked to the back of the house and went

    into the kitchen.

Lizzie was cooking. She heard the door open and saw

574 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

Queen come in. Her heart sank. She had convinced herself that she had seen

the last of Queen, that the girl had run away, like the brat nigra she was,

and would never come back. Yet she was back, and Lizzie, after her argument

with Jass the previous night, could not imagine how she would cope.

"Where have you been?" she said, evenly.

    Queen walked to a chair at the table and sat down. "I sorry, Missy," she

    said. "I had some trouble."

    "And are you aware of how much trouble you've caused here?" Lizzie asked

    her.

    Queen hardly expected words of comfort or solace from Lizzie, but she had

    not expected anger.

    "No thought for us, no word of warning," Lizzie said. "Just off and away,

    like the no-account nigra you are. In the old days we'd have set the dogs

    after you. Get yourself cleaned up and get to work."

    Fireworks of anger were starting to explode in Queen's mind.

    "I sorry, I-- she began, but Lizzie's temper broke before hers. "Your

    Massa's been out since dawn looking for you, Miss Sally unable to sleep,

    and me in my condition-"

    Queen could not stand it anymore. They'd treat an old dog better than they

    treated her. She rose to her feet in fury.

" He not my Massa, " she said. " He my pappy!

Lizzie slapped her face hard.

    "How dare you say that! How dare you speak to me like that! "

    But Queen dared. She would dare anything now, for she had nothing to lose.

    "An' how dare you," she cried. "I ain't some animal for you to push around,

    Queen do this, Queen do that, cook, wash, clean, garden, plant cotton, pick

    cotton, morning till night, and never a word of thanks! You don't even

    notice I exist until you want something done! Well, I do exist, Missus, and

    I've got a fight to a little bit of happiness. An' if I cain't find it

    here, I'll find it somewhere else."

    The events of the previous night were the crack in the dam of her

    frustration, and now it burst, and her loneliness came flooding out. She

    did not belong in this white world, could not function in this white world,

    would never be accepted by

    QUEEN 575

this white family for what she was, which was one of them. For she was not

one of them. She was some curious addendum to their lives, without place or

purpose, other than as willing slave, and she didn't want to be a slave

anymore.

    She didn't want to be a slave to anyone, she didn't want to be a slave to

    this family, and most of all, she didn't want to be a slave to her love for

    her father, for it would never be returned in a way that would have any

    value to her. Simple recognition of her existence was hardly an adequate

    substitute for love. For the first time in her life Queen realized that her

    heart was empty, and that she wanted it to be full.

    Lizzie was shocked by her impudence. "How dare you," she said. "After all

    we've done for you."

    "You ain't ever done nothing for me," Queen responded as she walked out of

    the room. "An' you won't ever have to now.

    She didn't run, because there was nothing to run to or from. She walked

    slowly up the stairs, repeating in her mind what she had said to Lizzie,

    elaborating on it, embroidering it, until it became a litany of the woes of

    her life. She went to her room, washed herself clean, and brushed her hair.

    As she looked in her little mirror, she repeated her speech to Lizzie

    again, and it was longer still. She remembered every tiny hurt, every

    unkind word, every flick of the switch to her behind. She finished on a

    triumphant note, demolishing the phantom Lizzie, and, anger spent, she

    giggled. She wondered what Lizzie's face looked like when she'd left the

    kitchen.

    She changed into her Sunday best, and packed a little suitcase with her few

    belongings. She gave no thought to her destination or to her purse, which

    was almost empty, for her obsession was to leave. She did think of saying

    good-bye to Sally, but decided against it. As kind as the old Missy was,

    she was the one who had first told her to go.

    But she did have to say good-bye to someone. She put on her bonnet, picked

    up her suitcase, and took a last look at her tiny, sparsely furnished room.

    She went downstairs, hoping she wouldn't run into any of the family, left

    the house by the front door, and made her way to the slave graveyard to say

    good-bye to her mammy.

    "I got to go, Mammy," she told Easter. "Ain't no place for me here."

576 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

    The grave was untidy and overgrown. Queen hadn't had time to tend it, and

    the weeds were flourishing in the warm, spring sun. Queen knelt and pulled

    at the weeds.

    "Pappy don't know yet," she said. "I don't want to see .him. I'm going

    afore he gets back."

    It wasn't completely true. Part of her didn't want to face Jass, but

    perhaps part of her hoped that if she did see him he would say what she had

    always longed for him to say, and make everything all right again. In her

    heart she knew it probably wouldn't happen, but she could not dismiss the

    hope. And having made the decision to go, she was terrified of the con-