Glory over Everything: Beyond The Kitchen House(87)

In front of him, in the center of the work yard, set a type of stockade. There, seated on a thin wedge of board, a nude Negro man was locked into a wooden contraption. With his feet tied straight out and his hands secured behind him, he had nothing to support his back; the pain of the wood cutting into his buttocks must have been unbearable. Added to his torture were the scorching sun and the clouds of flies and mosquitoes that surrounded him. His head lolled to the side and his eyes were glazed with pain, while his breathing came in short guttural grunts.

Because of his location, all of the yard workers were witness to his torment yet almost certainly were forbidden to do anything to relieve his suffering. I stared, sickened, before turning away.

I ran then toward the building with glass panes and rapped heavily on the door. When there was no response, I pushed in and closed the door behind me. My breathing finally quieted as I looked about the sparsely furnished hallway, and when I heard voices, I followed the sound through another door. The large room I entered had at least twenty pallets lining the walls, and though most were empty, it was well built to serve this community of more than two hundred slaves.

The floorboards creaked when I stepped across the doorsill. A young boy, assisting a Negro woman who was caring for a patient, turned at the sound of my entry. He stared for only a moment before he dropped the wooden bowl he held. “Mr. Burton! Mr. Burton!” he called out as he ran toward me. “I knew you’d come for me! I knew you’d come for me!” He clutched at my waist, his whole body trembling. It was difficult to believe that this sad, emaciated boy was Pan.

As I patted his shorn head, I felt the long jagged scar. What had they done to this gentle boy? How had he been so badly injured? In those moments, my fear for myself turned to rage for this child. I wanted to snatch him and go, but after what I had already seen, I knew that now more than ever, I needed to hold myself in check. I had been warned that this place was governed by its own law, and guards were likely everywhere.

All eyes were on us as I pried Pan loose, then set him back and looked directly into his eyes. “Listen to me!” I said, speaking as low as I could. “Do not say another word! You must not address me. Do you understand?” I held both of his frail shoulders and looked into his eyes. “Your leaving here will depend on this.”

He nodded, but he reached for my hand again as though for reassurance.

“No!” I said, pulling back. “You must go back to work.” I turned him around, then directed him toward the large homely woman who watched silently. “I’m looking for Sukey,” I said.

Pan pointed to her. “That is Sukey, Mr. Burton!”

“Pan! Do not use my name!”

The boy’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes enormous in his drawn face.

I forced my attention away from him. “Are you Sukey?” I asked the woman.

She nodded, then slowly came forward as she readjusted her faded head wrap and smoothed out her brown skirt. She was a heavyset woman with plain features, and as she approached me, her black eyes kept darting to my eye patch.

“She can’t talk,” Pan said.

“Tell her that she is needed at Mr. Thomas’s house,” I said.

“She can hear, she just can’t talk,” said Pan when the woman shot me a look. Did she mean the boy harm? Would she tell Thomas what she had seen the boy do?

I wanted to ask her for help, but she moved quickly. As I left, I glanced back at Pan and put my finger to my lips, reminding him of silence. His eyes sparkled when he nodded his understanding.

By the time we reached Thomas’s house, he had come and gone and the doctor had been sent for. It appeared Addy’s arm was broken, and the decision to take her up to a bedroom in the big house had been made. When Mr. Spencer requested that I go to fetch Hester so she might attend to Addy, I could not ride out fast enough, wanting only to head for the north. But I had found Pan, and now I had only to extricate him.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX


1830


James


ADDY WAS TO remain at Southwood for seven days. Her arm had been set, and though it was a clean break, the doctor insisted that she not be moved. She was made as comfortable as possible in a guest room of the big house.

Following her first day of confinement, Mr. Spencer returned from seeing her and called me into his study. “Hester will remain with Addy for the duration of her stay. I will spend the mornings with her and go back every evening, but I need some time in the afternoon to see to my work. I realize this might be considered unusual, but I wonder if I might ask you to visit with her in the afternoons. I can’t say that I like to leave her and Hester alone on the place without someone to oversee to their welfare. Perhaps you would be willing to check in with her and read to her for an hour or so?”

“I would be happy to do so,” I said, feeling some obligation but also realizing the access it provided me to Southwood.

As though reading my thoughts, Mr. Spencer continued on. “I know you want to get yourself a man,” he said, “but I’m asking that you wait until Addy is back home. Thomas’s moods are too unreliable, and I’d like Addy out of there if you decide to carry through with a purchase.”

“Certainly,” I said, and though frustrated with his request, I thought it best not to press my need.


WHEN I VISITED the following afternoon, I found Addy sitting up in a chair with Hester by her side.