Second Daughter (10 page)

Bett said nothing. She helped him pack an extra coat, two warm shirts, homespun underclothes, and a pair of leather trousers.

Many of the slaves and free Africans gathered to say good-bye. Just as he was leaving, Bett gave him a warm blanket that she had been given for the last child she delivered. She and Little Bett walked with him down the road. I wanted so badly to go that last mile, but I knew they needed those moments together, alone.

Word spread that Zach Mullen, along with some men from other farms, had gone off to fight for the British who promised them freedom. One day Zach showed up, saying he had been sent back when his officer found out that he was from the Ashleys' place. The master threatened to beat him.

I was working in the field the day Zach returned. The field supervisor sent for the master. What would happen to Zach? I wondered. I was so afraid that the master would whip him within an inch of his life. Pretending to go about my work as usual, I was doing more listening.

“Didn't you know you wouldn't get far?” the master asked. “I should give you the whipping of your life.” He fingered the whip that he held in his hand.

Zach stood with his head up, his hands clenched in fists behind his back. He breathed heavily in the silence, not moving his eyes from the master's face.

“Go to work,” the master finally said.

Why had the master backed down? Could he have been afraid Zach would run away and try fighting with the Colonials and Indians? Was Zach ready to take on the master? Maybe the master was just glad he had his slave back.

When Josiah had been gone for a while and the war was still being lost, Brom went to the master and asked to be sold to the slave battalion. A fair price was being offered, as high as four hundred pounds. The master had paid only forty for Brom. The master told Brom he was worth far more than four hundred pounds to him. There was a shortage of men to tend cattle and work flax. He was needed here to help win the war.

Brom told me he asked, “But will I be free when the war is over?”

The master answered, “Only if you become a soldier in the army is freedom guaranteed.”

For days Brom moved around like a man with no reason to live. He talked about running away to join the British. Zach warned him against that. He had learned the hard way. Ashley's place was too well known and the British wanted to have friends in the area whether they won or lost.

Brom did not try to join the British. He refused to eat. He drank little water, but Bett forced him to drink her tea. Still he grew thinner and thinner and looked terrible. Bett and I pleaded with him to come to his senses and not kill himself. One day Bett said to him, “Have you forgotten Olubunmi and her wisdom? She always told us, in our heart and soul, to say yes to living; say no to bondage and nobody can keep you a slave. Brom,
tiigaade!”

Little by little he got better. Maybe he understood something Olubunmi and my sister, too, fully understood that I was still unable to grasp.

Several months went by. We heard no word from Josiah. Bett lost weight. She did not sleep well, and the work on her place suffered. Little Bett missed her daddy and kept asking when he would come home. We had no idea whether he had been able to find his way to General Varnum's line to join the slave battalion. We waited.

One evening, the sun was red on the horizon. The first star of the evening hung low in the sky. We were still working in the field when Little John came running, waving a letter. He was out of breath. “It's from Josiah.”

Bett was so excited, I think she didn't realize, as she hurriedly opened the letter, that she couldn't read. She hugged the pages as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Here, let me read it for you,” Little John said.

“Not here. I must prepare myself. I must sit down.” He hadn't been in our quarters since he was a small boy. Now, as a young man, he seemed out of place sitting on the floor. Bett sat in our one chair, I on the bed. We listened as Josiah's voice rolled over us.

Bett, Dear Wife:

I have been in Newport, Rhode Island, for about three days now, waiting to leave here for Pennsylvania. This state is in ruins. Their rich dairy farms are destroyed; the source of their wealth, the trade in slaves, thanks goodness, is totally wiped out. The British blockade is complete
.

There are many Africans here. I have been fortunate to meet a few. One is a Miss Obour Tanner. At her home I met a well-known woman who writes poetry that has been read by many, here and abroad. Her name is Phillis Wheatley. She read some of her poems. I was thrilled, for it made clear why we must join in this fight against what she called tyranny. You would love her, a beautiful person with a gift one can hardly believe
.

They still don't want us to be allowed to fight. I think the owners of slaves are willing to lose the war rather than part with their property. But, as a free man, I have been signed up and should join General Varnum in his all-black battalion before long
.

So far I am well, but I can see that war is not good for the mind. I now understand your not wanting me to go. But remember, I will be home and take you away from there to one hundred acres of our land, and we will begin a new life with Ayisha and Aissa
.

God be with you and ours until I see you again
.

Your husband, Josiah Freeman
.

When John had finished reading the letter, he carefully folded it and handed it to Bett and quietly left.

“The mistress will hear about this. Will you let her read your letter?” I asked.

“The mistress is never out of your mind, is she? Why would she want to read my letter?”

“Why does she want to own us? Will you let her read it?”

“No.”

I took the letter and pushed it in between planks in the wall so that it could not be seen. “You can't read, so what reason is there to keep a letter?”

The next few days we went about our work with a sense of relief, knowing Josiah was now with the army. With Little Bett now seven years old and in the kitchen helping Nance and doing the chores that were once mine, I spent more time in the fields. Late evenings we worked at Bett's place and planted crops there. Little Bett was calm, an even-tempered child like her mother, and did not often raise the mistress's ire.

Early one morning as we were about to go to the master's field, the mistress summoned Bett. I went ahead. The sun was already giving a warning of a hot day. My long dress was not at all comfortable in this work. I often thought how nice it would be if we could wear pants. Men had everything made easier for them. If I were a man, I thought, I'd be in Boston where the ships come and go. Far away from this place—gone to where Baaba and Yaaye came from.

I had not seen Bett until she was right upon me. I knew she was angry and upset. “Now what?” I asked.

“John told about the letter. The mistress said she'd waited for me to come and tell her, or the master, about it. Why hadn't I come?”

“Why did John tell?”

“He had to. I don't blame John. I knew he'd tell. And I told her that with John's telling, there was no need for me.”

“Was she angry?”

“She's always angry. She demanded to see the letter. I told her I didn't have it. She ranted and raged and said I had better get it and bring it to her or I would be severely punished. Then, Aissa, I remembered what you'd said. ‘I can't read,' I said, ‘so why would I keep a letter?' She called me a liar and said she would find it. ‘Get to the field!' she shouted. So I'm here.”

I was frightened for Bett. What would the mistress do? I wondered.

That night when we went to our room, we found it in shambles. The mattress was off the bed, covers scattered all about. Our belongings were all over the room. Bett's herbs were spilled, all mixed together. I had never known feelings of such humiliation and shame. I looked at Bett and for the first time our eyes could not hold. We both lowered our heads. I was surprised that of all the feelings that rushed over me, anger was not one. Helplessness and anger do not go together.

We did not speak but we both went to the wall. The letter was still there. We burst out laughing. We laughed until tears rolled down our cheeks. In our defeat we had won.

19

The mistress punished Bett. She would not let her away from the place day or night. With all the leaves and roots of the herbs mixed together, there was no medicine for Bett to use, and being watched so closely, she could not go into the forest to collect what she needed. Although the mistress was angry, and refused to let Bett see others, she still had Bett do the most personal things: comb her hair, help her dress for her outings, and serve her meals when she ate alone.

It was Bett's duty to go through the mistress's clothes to find what needed mending or restyling. Mistress Anna Ashley gave away few clothes. Of course, neither Bett, Nance, nor I could wear her things. Sarah could, and often Sarah was called to do the mending and restyling for a small fee and a worn garment.

We had not seen Sarah for a long time. With the shortages of men and of food and other supplies, we had few get-togethers on our rare days off. There had been no Christmas parties, and the one day off for the New Year had been spent on the place. So when Sarah came to sew for the mistress, we were all very happy to see her.

When Josiah chose Bett for his wife, Sarah was jealous. But soon after Sarah was married, her feelings of jealousy had disappeared. She became a friend again. We were all having breakfast together the morning she arrived. Brom greeted her politely, but the rest of us shouted and laughed, hugged her, and set a place for her at the table.

We felt lucky to have someone bring us news from the free Africans in the area. Sarah told us that many of the men had gone to war, many for the British. Bett told Sarah about the letter from Josiah and seemed proud that he had decided to fight on the side of the Colonials. When Sarah heard that the mistress had destroyed all of Bett's herbs, she told us about an Indian woman who might be willing to share some that she had.

“How will I get to her? I can't go anywhere. Not even to my house and farm.”

“Oh, you would have to go. She would have to see you and talk with you to be sure you were the right person. Not just anybody is trusted with their medicines.”

“The invisible spirits will find uh way tuh wing you dere,” Nance said. “Will it, and de way'll be dere.”

Bett, Brom, and I went with the others to the field, leaving Nance and Little Bett to their house chores and Sarah to her sewing. We sang along the way passing the cobble, the rocks that seemed all the more white under the blue skies. Ashley Falls roared in the valley, which was carpeted with flowers in bloom.

We worked on the far end of the farm near the dense forest. With the shortage of men, there was no one to supervise our work. Sometimes the master appeared late in the day and sometimes Little John might ride through with his friends to see how things were going. Suddenly, I had an idea. “Bett, why don't you go and gather herbs?”

“You know I can't do that.”

“How will the mistress know? Who's there to tell? We'll do enough work so that you'll not be missed.”

In the middle of the day we took little time to eat our bread and berries and to drink from the pail, for we wanted to make sure we did Bett's work and ours. When the darkness from the forest spread outward and made shadows on the hills, my sister returned. She carried a bark basket on her head with one hand and in the other she held her head scarf tied around leaves and roots.

“How did you ever gather so many in such a short time?” I asked.

“You'll not believe this. The forest was so peaceful that my mind didn't stray from my purpose. My eyes saw everything clearly, and I was busy digging when suddenly right upon me was this tall bronze man as straight as a strong young spruce. He wore white leather pants and shirt and a band of beads around his head. Strangely, I had no fear and I smiled at him and said, ‘The peace here is still undisturbed.'

“He knows Josiah and was pleased to hear I'm his wife. Then, as if out of nowhere, this woman appears. She, too, is tall and straight as an arrow. Her wrinkled skin, brown as a walnut, and her round black eyes marked her as one with wisdom. Immediately, I thought of Olubunmi.”

Suddenly my chest and throat filled with the tears that would not flow, and I was glad that my sister did not notice as she went on with her story.

“She spoke her native tongue to her son and he asked me who was I and why was I in the forest. I told her my name and to whom I belong. I assured them I was alone. That I was there to gather herbs for healing. She asked questions of me through her son. What was I looking for? How did I use it? She always smiled when her son responded. Where had I learned? I told her all about Olubunmi and how she had taught me all I know.”

“Did she show you anything new?”

From the bark basket Bett took a yellow-brown rooted plant with hollow stems that held about fourteen leaflets with sawlike notches along the edges. The rose-colored flowers were small, close together in a flat-topped cluster. The fragrance? I could not describe how wonderful.

“She told me how to use it, but her son had no way to tell me the name in our language. Then she helped me gather all of the things I needed to replace my supply. That's why I was able to get so much in such a short time.”

I looked at the well-made basket and knew it was a gift from one healer to another, and I felt a bit ashamed that I had not given the right respect to my sister.

Finally the mistress forgot about the letter, and Bett and I were able to go to the farm. We had expected the place to be overgrown, the animals to be either dead or lost, but to our surprise, things were not as bad as we had thought they would be.

We found the goats in the woods, the chickens thinner but in place, and the weeds not unbearable. So, in time, things were back to normal. If only the master would grant us just
one
day to work for ourselves.