Glory over Everything: Beyond The Kitchen House(81)

“I understand that you purchased Hester from Southwood,” I began.

He folded down his newspaper as he guardedly eyed me. “I did,” he said. “And as a Northerner, you object?”

“Actually,” I said, “I do not have a strong opinion on that subject.”

“I see,” he said. “I presumed otherwise.”

“In fact,” I said, closing my own book, “in these recent days I have come to believe that it might be wise for me to purchase a young Negro, one perhaps more familiar with this heat than I. He could travel with me and give me assistance when I am out in the woods. I was hoping that Southwood might have some possible candidates.”

He stared at me with a strong look that I could not interpret.

“But I will need an introduction,” I said. When that was met with silence, I resorted to the manipulation I had seen Addy use. “Yet you are reluctant? Do you think me somehow unsuited to meet with this Bill Thomas? Are you concerned that I might act in such a way as to embarrass you?”

“My dear man!” he sputtered. “You are badly mistaken!”

I had hit my mark and might have felt some guilt had I not had such genuine need. “I cannot imagine another reason,” I said. “Perhaps I ask for too much?”

“No,” he said, “you do not. But I see that I must be frank. The truth is, I do not like to visit the place. Thomas is an unfriendly man, and he and I have had words on more than one occasion. I do not like the way he runs things. That is how I came to purchase Hester. She made her way over to us one day in such a state that Mrs. Spencer would not allow her to return. Of course, I paid a heavy purse for her and then one as heavy for Clora, though she was but a small child.” He mopped at his forehead. “No, Mr. Burton, there is no love lost between Mr. Thomas and myself. But you are right to say that I offered you an introduction, and I mean to stand by my word.”

Instantly, I saw my chance. “Then you would support me in obtaining a manservant from him?” I said.

His eyes opened wide. “So you are indeed looking to purchase?”

“I am,” I said. “I don’t believe I have a choice. In these past weeks, whenever I’ve ventured out in the fields, I’ve seen that if I am to work in this heat, I will need assistance. Especially when I consider further travel. I was thinking a younger boy, one easier to train.”

“Perhaps in town. In two week’s time, there is an auction . . .”

“No, I would like to purchase a boy as soon as possible.”

“But from Thomas?”

“Yes, why not? It will give me time to train him before I leave.”

“You are thinking of leaving us?” he asked.

“Certainly that day is coming,” I hedged.

“Be assured that your time here is not measured. Your presence in our home has benefited this family in many ways. This has been more difficult than I expected. Mrs. Spencer was everything . . .” His voice thickened with tears.

“I understand,” I said, and did not tell him how I grieved at night for Caroline.

He blew his nose. “I only want you to know that you need not rush away. If you feel that you need an assistant for your work while you are here with us, we can see about obtaining someone for you within the week.”

“Are you of the mind, then, that Mr. Thomas would be open to a sale?”

“Bill Thomas continually buys from auctions, and if they don’t settle in, he sells again to the traders who stop by his place when they’re heading down into the lower states. Some—including myself, as you know—have bought from him, though he commands a high price.”

“It is settled, then. When would you suggest we make our visit?”

“I suppose that tomorrow is as good a day as any. We will go early, to avoid the heat, and with some luck we will return with your man.”

I felt almost light-headed with relief and fear.





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE


1830


Pan


I’M POURING OUT a slop bucket the day the two white men who bring in the runners show up again. I get inside quick, but they follow me in, and the one with no front teeth grabs hold of my ear so hard that my eyes get watery. “Look at her, cryin’ for her mama,” he says. I want to tell him that I’m not crying, but I know to keep quiet.

“His head looks better, but he still ain’t worth nothin’,” says the other one, who’s poking at my head. “When’s that trader comin’ through?”

“Sometime in the next couple of weeks.”

“Good. Looks like Sukey put him to work. We’ll keep him in here till then. Sukey,” he calls across the room. “You got enough work to keep this one busy for another couple of weeks?”

Sukey gives a nod but looks away again, like she don’t have no time for me.

After the men go, I walk around all day wondering what to do. What if they take me from this place before Mr. Burton gets here? And why don’t he come? I know my daddy don’t come ’cause they’d take him for a slave, but why don’t Mr. Burton come? After a while I get so worked up that I can’t eat and I got to go lay on my bed.

That night Sukey already got on her nightdress when she comes out of her room and waves at me. I follow her into her room, wondering what’s going on, because she never does this before. She grabs down the slate board hooked to the wall and then points for me to sit on the edge of her bed. After she puts the lantern on the table, she grabs a small rag from her desk and sits beside me. “We getting you out,” she writes, and soon as I read it, she spits on the rag and wipes it off the slate.