Glory over Everything: Beyond The Kitchen House(10)

I reminded myself again that traveling as a funded artist would allow me to gain entry into homes that otherwise would not have been open to me. And now I would need every opportunity to find Pan.

It was not until I was settled in the carriage and well on my way that I allowed myself to think of Caroline. Then my heart raced, for though telling my truth would likely end our affair, I could not wait to see her again.





CHAPTER FOUR


1825


Pan


I LIKE WORKIN’ with Molly in the kitchen. We get along good. But Robert, he another story. All he cares is that I’s scrubbed up like him and workin’ hard. He don’t let me go with my daddy on Sunday ’less I got on a clean shirt and my new shoes polished like his. I can tell my daddy happy to see me all dressed like I’m somebody, working big time for the white folk.

“You doin’ all right, boy?” he ask every Sunday when he comes, and I tell him I is. Then I tell him about everything that happens to me. He listens good, ’cept when I start talkin’ ’bout my mama. One day when we was sittin’ in the trees and lookin’ out over the water, finishin’ up what Molly gives us to eat, I start wonderin’ to him if Mama seein’ us and what she’s wantin’ to say.

He shake his head an’ look over at me. “You a talker, boy, jus’ like your mama, an’ that’s all right by me, but I don’ want to hear you talk about her no more. She gone.”

“But Daddy,” I say, “she always gon’ be with us. She tell me all the time. She say—”

“Pan! I don’t wanna hear nothin’ ’bout her no more!”

“That fine, Daddy, I don’t need to say nothin’ more, just that she still here, that’s all.”

“You know she gone!” Daddy say.

“She still here! She say she always gon’ stay with me!” My eyes start stingin’, but I don’t cry, ’cause my daddy don’t like it when I do.

He gives me a look but don’t say nothin’ for a long time. “Jus’ don’ go talkin’ like that to nobody else,” he say.

“I already say so to Mr. Burton.”

“You do?”

I nod.

“What he say?”

“Nothin’.”

“Nothin’?”

“Nope, he don’t say nothin’.”

My daddy look out over the water. “Jus’ don’ go tellin’ nobody else.”

Some gulls dip down across the water. That reminds me how I’m helpin’ Mr. Burton out with his bird, and I say so. My daddy look at me like I’m makin’ up a story. “What bird?” he ask.

“He got this bird that talks good as you and me,” I say. “Mr. Burton say that I’m good with birds and I got to help him out because Molly, she afraid that bird gonna bite her, and Robert, he don’t want nothin’ to do with it.”

“What else they got you doin’?”

“Mr. Burton, he showin’ me how to write.”

“He do?”

“And he’s showin’ me how to read!”

“That’s good, son. You watch close and don’ talk so much.”

“Mr. Burton say that askin’ questions is a good thing. That’s how you learn, he say.”

“Well, that man don’ get where he is today without bein’ a smart man.”

I nod. “He sure do know everything ’bout birds. And he tell Robert that I don’t need to wear shoes all the time until my feet stop hurtin’ so bad.”

“How’d he know your feet was hurtin’?” Daddy asked.

“I tells him.”

“You troublin’ Mr. Burton that your feet hurtin’ you?”

“No, just when I can’t step right and he asks me why, I say ’cause Robert says I got to wear shoes all the time and my feet ain’t takin’ to ’em the way they should.”

Daddy shake his head. “Jus’ don’ go botherin’ the man with too much talkin’ ’bout yourself.”

“Only time I talk ’bout myself is if he asks me somethin’.”

“He ask you about me?”

“No, jus’ why I can’t stay with you, and I tells him that a tavern no place for a chil’ and that you don’t want me ’round the barns on my own. I tells him you take Mama’s leavin’ us real hard an’ that I tell you not to worry ’cause I know she’s watchin’ out for us.”

Daddy shoots me a look, then picks up the basket from Molly and stands to go. That’s him tellin’ me enough talk. We walk back with me quiet, but I take his hand and know he’s not mad with me because he squeeze my hand real tight.





CHAPTER FIVE


1830


James


I ARRIVED AN hour later than the invitation called for. To say Mr. and Mrs. Cardon’s home was magnificent would not be an exaggeration, yet the size of this Georgian home, their city dwelling, was said to be dwarfed by the size of their country estate.

“Mr. Burton, good to see you again, sir.”

I thanked Felix, greeting by name their gray-haired Negro servant as I handed over my greatcoat, hat, and gloves.