House of Rougeaux(44)
Then finally there was Josephine, who assumed all the dolls in the family were hers, which by then nobody minded, except Hetty when Josie’s conversations with them took on a certain tone. Josie sometimes arranged the dolls in a circle and asked them questions. She would stare fixedly at one or another of them, the cat doll say, or Claudine, murmuring small words like, “She did?” and “I don’t think so,” and “I will.” Once when Hetty asked her what Claudine had told her that day Josephine answered, “Oh, she said she’s hungry for afu, but I told her we never eat that.” Hetty was struck dumb at this. Afu was a word from her childhood, what her mother called mashed yams, and something she, as a girl, would have pretended to feed her doll. Had she heard Josie right?
“What did you say she wanted, chérie?” Hetty asked. But Josie was already prattling on about something else and would not say.
* * *
As the years passed, visitors to the house began to take notice of Hetty’s dolls, so much so that Hetty began making them as part of her fundraising efforts for the local chapter of the Anti-Slavery Society. They were a popular item at silent auctions and fetched good prices for their charm and quality. Two years prior, in 1851, the funds committee had asked her for a set of dolls for an auction that would accompany an upcoming benefit concert at the Theatre Royal, performed by a group called the Ethiopian Serenaders. Phoebe, Olivie and Abigail were now married, and the growing independence of the other children afforded Hetty the time. The concert was held for the benefit of five new fugitives that had landed in their city.
The night of the concert Hetty and Dax made the acquaintance of one of the fugitives, Mr. Shadrach Minkins, who had already achieved a bit of fame. After escaping from bondage in Virginia, Minkins had made a life for himself in Boston until a year later he was arrested under the Fugitive Slave Act. When he stood trial, however, a group of freedmen broke into the courtroom and spirited him away, and with their support he made it to Montreal. Mr. Minkins went around the room introducing himself during intermission, shaking hands with every single person in attendance, and thanking them for coming. He complimented Hetty on her dolls, and apologized for sitting down with her and Dax uninvited. His health had not been good and he was visibly winded. Dax told him to please rest himself, and Hetty assured him he was among friends. She went off to fetch him some tea.
* * *
In a short time Mr. Minkins’ health improved and he soon found work as a waiter at a hotel, Montreal House, where he began saving the capital he needed toward his own business ambitions. Dax and Hetty sought him out now and then to see how he was getting on, and to offer their support in what ways they could, and were always glad to find him in good spirits.
One June evening, two years later, Dax and Hetty dressed in their Sunday clothes and took Guillaume and Josephine to the eatery, Chez Shadrach, Mr. Minkins had opened with his new wife Mary. The Rougeaux family were invited to a special dinner, along with others in the community who had supported Mr. Minkins, that promised an impressive menu: a whole roast pig, a variety of spring vegetables, and desserts to delight and amaze. Hetty smiled at this last part. Mr. Minkins had nothing if not panache.
The Rougeauxes arrived curious to see what Mr. Minkins had done with himself. Guillaume, at fourteen, was now taller than his father, and walked the whole way from the shop holding Josephine’s hand. Besides the cat and the other boys on their street, Josie had always been his favorite playmate, even if the games she preferred were not exactly to his liking. He suffered admirably through endless pretend cups of tea and nibbled cakes made of dandelions, and he held up his end of many a conversation among the dolls. Anything to make Josie smile.
Mr. Minkins met the Rougeauxes at the door of the restaurant. He grasped their hands in a warm welcome and led them to a table topped with a little vase of violets and a glowing candle in a glass jar. The room was already filling up with familiar faces. A serving table in the center was laden with covered dishes and the promised desserts. A white woman emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray of earthen mugs and Mr. Minkins waved her over.
“Please meet my wife, Mary,” he said.
Hetty took in the sight of the young woman. Flushed pink cheeks sprinkled over with freckles, wheat-colored plaits coiled about her head, the large pregnant belly under layers of muslin. She said How do you do in an accent that belied her origins. Irish to be sure.
“He calls me Mary,” she said to Hetty. “I don’t mind. I suppose he thinks it’s holy. Or else,” she patted her belly, “he thinks this is the Baby Jesus.” Hetty laughed. She always liked people who didn’t bother too much with niceties. “But you can call me Margaret.”
“And you must call me Hetty.”
* * *
The next time the Rougeauxes visited Chez Shadrach, Mr. Minkins refused to take their money. Only when Dax threatened never to return did he accept payment. All that season and into the autumn they went back many times, especially Tuesdays when there were fewer customers and the place closed earlier. The Minkins invited them to stay after hours, and soon there were regular late nights together before the fireplace, the men with their pipes, the women with their tea, and all with many tales to tell. Mr. Minkins had a certain way of turning many a harrowing event into sheer hilarity, which left everyone laughing, though no one more than his wife.