The Wedding Gift (31 page)

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Authors: Marlen Suyapa Bodden

BOOK: The Wedding Gift
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“Miss Mary is the granny woman to everybody on the plantation. We do whatever she tell us,” Arthur said.

“Where does this road lead?”

“Into town. La Fayette,” Arthur said.

“About how long will it take me to get there from here?”

“Let’s see, walking, it’s going to take you at least one full day,” Arthur said.

“Go on ahead into the woods before somebody come along and see you. And you going to be all right, Miss Sarah. I can tell you ain’t scared,” LeRoy said.

If he had not said that, I believe I would have told them that I was going back with them to Allen Estates, but those kind words encouraged me. I prayed and recited a verse as I went into the woods: “For thou will light my candle: the Lord my God will enlighten my darkness.”

Deep in the forest, I turned south and continued parallel to the road for about two hours, until it became dark. I chose a spot under a tree where the earth was covered in moss for my bed. I rested before getting food from the sack that LeRoy and Arthur gave me. The meat and biscuits were hard. I wrapped myself in the blanket because it was colder than I expected on a July night. I heard crickets singing and small animals scurrying in the bushes. I felt lonely and thought about the things that we did at home on summer nights. After we cleaned the Allen kitchen, we and the neighbors would take chairs and lanterns outside. There were always at least two cobblers and tea for everyone. The children played hide-and-seek and other games. Later, the adults told stories. If my mother was with us, I begged her for one of my favorites.

Wolves howled, and I shivered as I thought, “Dear God, what have I done?” I decided to end my folly and go home in the morning. If I was so miserable one night out of bondage, how could I sustain myself for a lifetime? The wolves seemed to be closer then and I thought of moving, but I knew that they, like all wild animals, have a keen sense of smell and would locate me anyway. I thought I heard a snake slithering. I put Clarissa’s dress on the ground and lay upon it, the fabric soft on my face. The howling grew louder and fear overtook me. I kneeled on the ground.

“Dear God, thank You for Your blessings, for waking me up today, for giving me food, and for making me safe. Please protect my family and keep them by the power of Your hand. Lord, please forgive me for my sins and for breaking Your laws. Dear Lord, I know that the things I did were wicked, and I understand that You have to punish me. Lord, I’m prepared to return to captivity. But, Dear God, if it is Your will that I flee from bondage, please Lord, show me the way.

“Lord, You have commanded me to be strong and of good courage, to be not afraid, and, Lord, You promised that You will be with me wherever I go. Lord, I will be brave, because You made a covenant that Your angels will always be with me. In the name of our savior, Jesus Christ, Amen.”

The wolves were closer. I walked to a clearing in the forest canopy and lifted my face to the heavens to look at the stars.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

THEODORA ALLEN

 

MY GRANDCHILDREN AND MY SISTER-IN-LAW, Martha, did their best to not leave me alone. I played games with the young ones and helped them draw watercolors. Martha also enjoyed reading and writing and we spent much of our time in the library and the parlor.

“Theodora, what is it that no one is telling me about Clarissa’s passing?”

“Your brother doesn’t want anyone to know, but I will tell you because I know that you loved her like a daughter.”

I told her everything and she held me as I cried.

“Do you want me to try to talk to Cornelius? Maybe he will tell me what he did with the child.”

“Yes, please. He may listen to you.”

Martha had no more success than I did and Cornelius accused her of conspiring with me to ruin the family’s reputation.

“Theodora, I fear for him. His mind has deteriorated, and while I was speaking with him in his office, he coughed blood. Should we send for the doctor?”

“I don’t think a physician would be of assistance to Cornelius. Did you try to persuade him to stop drinking whiskey?”

“No, and Emmeline told me outside of his presence that he continues to drink at all hours. I am certain he would only grow angrier if I told him to cease drinking.”

No one expected to see Cornelius at meals, and we got used to visiting with him in his apartment. He made an effort to play with the children, but he confused them when he told them odd stories of his boyhood. My sons and daughters-in-law stopped taking the young ones upstairs when my husband refused to groom himself. His hair became stringy and his face cadaverous. He was in his bed when I went to see him Wednesday evening before supper. Emmeline was sitting next to him.

“Has he had any whiskey today?”

“This morning and afternoon, ma’am. But Eddie said that he took all the bottles away when Mr. Allen was coughing blood.”

“Has he been up at all today?”

“No, ma’am. Eddie said he didn’t want to get out of bed. I tried to get him to eat something, but he’s been sleeping most the time. He’s still coughing up blood.”

“If you would like me to, I can help you with him.”

“Ma’am, you should go down to supper. I’ll watch him and send for you if he gets worse while you’re down there. And, ma’am….”

“Yes, Emmeline?”

“I don’t think he’s going to get better. Maybe you should tell your family to make sure to come see him tonight.”

“Thank you, Emmeline.”

When we were in the game room after supper, Eddie went there to speak to me.

“Ma’am, Miss Emmeline said to please come up, now.”

Cornelius’s breathing was slow and shallow.

“Emmeline, please wash his face. I’ll return with the family.”

We filed into his bedroom and everyone said good-bye. My mother-in-law led a prayer. She, my sister-in-law, and I stayed with Emmeline to sit in vigil. My husband died at three on Thursday morning. Davis went to town for the undertaker. I do not know what I would have done about the plantation if my brother-in-law had not been with us.

“This is the time when slaves think they can do whatever they want or that, with their master gone, they don’t have to work. It’s important that everything continues to function as if the master still walked among them,” Charles said to me.

He left us at the house and went to the fields to be with the manager of the plantation and the overseers. I went to my husband’s office to write death announcements. There was a pile of papers on his desk. I read the document on top that he was drafting and tore it into small pieces, which I put aside to burn in the fireplace in my bedroom that evening. I was writing a notice to the local newspaper when an overseer interrupted me.

“Ma’am, we can’t find Sarah.”

“Pardon me?”

“We think Sarah ran away.”

“When?”

“Must have been last night. When Emmeline went to her cabin this morning after Mr. Allen died, she saw that Sarah was not in the cabin and she came to tell me that the last time she saw her was last night.”

“Well, can she be elsewhere on the plantation?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m going with a couple of boys to the fields to tell Mr. Allen…Mr. Charles, that is.”

I told Bessie, who was rather cheerful under the circumstances, to tell Emmeline to see me. “And, Bessie, pretend that you’re unhappy about your master’s passing.”

She tried not to grin but was unsuccessful. “Yes, ma’am.”

When Emmeline arrived, I could tell she had been crying.

“Do you really think it’s true that Sarah has run away? Perhaps she is visiting acquaintances in the quarters?” I asked her.

“Ma’am, I sure hope you’re right. What would I do if my girl was gone? She’s just a child. Ma’am, could I go down to the fields to look for her?”

“Sure, Emmeline, but the overseer has already gone there. But if it would make you feel better, get one of the boys to take you in a wagon.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

No one could find Sarah. They let the dogs smell her clothing and searched for her in the slave quarters and in the swamps. That evening, when it became a certainty that she had indeed escaped, Charles retained the slave catchers at Pinckney & Jenkins. Mr. Pinckney interviewed me in Cornelius’s office with Charles and Davis present.

“Mrs. Allen, please accept my condolences for the tragic passing of your husband and daughter. Now, about your runaway. I want you to know that we have a 99 percent rate of catching slaves. We are successful because owners provide us with valuable information. To that end, I need to ask you some questions. We know from experience that slaves steal clothing to disguise themselves and jewelry to sell to finance their escapes. Do you know if she has stolen anything at all from you or your family?”

“I do not believe that she has stolen anything of mine.”

“What about your daughter’s belongings?”

“I don’t know. I have not been in her apartment since we buried her.”

“Would you please accompany us there to see if you can tell whether anything is missing?”

We inspected Clarissa’s rooms. They found two unused hangers in her wardrobe where we kept her dresses that she did not take to Talladega.

“Ma’am, do you recall what dresses were on these hangers?”

“Let me think. Yes, they were yellow. She loved those gowns.”

He wrote in his book. I suppressed a smile as I thought that Clarissa had despised yellow and never would have worn that color.

“Mrs. Allen, can you think of anything else that may be missing?”

“Now that I think of it, I did not see the matching hats and parasols.”

“Anything else?”

“That would be all.”

We returned to my husband’s office.

“Mrs. Allen, we have a physical description of Sarah. Is there anything you can tell us about her personality or skills that would help us to describe her in advertisements and public notices?”

“Yes. She is intelligent.”

“Anything else?”

“Not for your advertisements.”

“Yes?”

“You will never catch her.”

We buried Cornelius next to Clarissa, and the day after the funeral, the adults, except for my relatives from Georgia, who had departed that morning, met in the library at Charles’s request.

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