Yellow Wife(28)

“We do it every Sunday. Sort of like our time off.”

The first thing that caught my eye when I joined the gathering was a vase of bright, cheerful daisies, which decorated a long table painted black. A whiff of mint and sage came from Elsie’s little garden. Made me long for one of Mama’s teas. She always made me a cup on Sundays just before bed. “To search the blood and keep things movin’.”

“How do everybody?” I said, wiping my sweaty hands on my skirt.

I received nods and greetings of hello. Abbie from the house smiled at me. She was missing a tooth on the left side, and her small body made her appear childlike. I took a seat on one of the long benches that straddled the table, and July plopped down next to me.

“Basil, lead us in grace,” commanded Elsie.

We dropped our heads and then in unison said, “Amen.”

Elsie served us each a bowl of crispy chicken, sweet corn, and roasted carrots. The smell did not agree with me, so I paused.

“Ain’t you goin’ eat?” Elsie cocked her head at me.

Not wanting to offend, I started in on the dinner.

“Been told a man come through here from up north yapping ’bout freedom coming,” chewed Basil.

“Betta hush that talk, less you find trouble.” Elsie heaped a bit more chicken on his plate.

Basil leaned forward. “Marse ain’t here.”

“But he has ears everywhere,” Abbie added.

It was my first encounter with Basil up close. A handsome man, dressed in a button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up at the elbows, he had a crescent-shaped scar on his left cheek. He looked as if someone had branded him. He sat beside Abbie, who seemed to smile into her spoon. The conversation shifted toward talk of the weather, prepping the grounds for winter, and storing food. Then Basil stood from the table. I sensed a restlessness in him.

“Delicious as always, Elsie.” He kissed her cheek.

“Yes, thank you kindly.” Abbie rose and collected the empty plates, then made her way to the washbasin. I noticed that she limped when she walked, dragging her left foot slightly behind her, and I wondered if she’d been born like that or had an accident or worse.

July asked the boy Tommy, “Wantin’ to play kickball?”

Tommy nodded, and the two of them scurried off, leaving me alone with Elsie. I forked another bite into my mouth despite the churning in my stomach. Then I felt the force of the food shooting up my throat. I pushed back from the table and stuck my head in a nearby bush. Everything came up. When I turned, wiping my mouth, Elsie stood over me with her hand on her hip.

“When the last time you bled?”

I had to think. “Before I left the plantation.” Even before Missus had dumped her chamber pot on me. “I think around May.”

“Chile, it’s August. You is wit’ child.”

I panted. “A child?” How could this be?

“Guess n’ that’ll keep Marse from sniffin’ after you for a while.” Elsie bent down in her garden and picked at something.

“Here some ginger. Help wit’ you stomach.”

I walked toward my shed, stunned by her revelation. How could I be carrying a child? Essex’s child? My hand dropped down to my belly. Mama had told me to watch myself. Not to bring no slave babies into the world. How could I let her down? I had stumbled and now I did not know how to feel.

When I reached the courtyard, there was a malnourished man in chains lying naked on the ground. Blood seeped through open wounds, and he looked at me with such anguish I wanted to help him. As soon as I moved toward him, the Jailer appeared at the tavern door.

“Run along, Pheby.” He had a pipe to his lips and puffed on it. I hastened my steps and closed the door to the shed behind me. My nose started to run. How could I raise a child in this place of horror? I dug inside my hidden pocket and pulled out the necklace that Essex had given me. Just holding it between my fingers calmed me. We had made a baby. I pictured his eyes on me as I told him the news. The smoothness of his face, and the calloused skin around his hands as he embraced me. I was going to be a mother whether I liked it or not. But how? In this foreign place? Alone without my mama to guide me?

Same way I raised you.





CHAPTER 13




Favor

The days had grown shorter. Red, orange, and purple leaves drifted to the ground as July and I bent down over the silver wash bin scrubbing the laundry. The motion of pounding the heavy, wet material against the wood-and-metal washboard was making me dizzy.

The lye soap stung my hands and the October air had stiffened my back. I must have looked on the brink of fainting, because when Elsie huffed by me she tsked her teeth.

“You’s a weak gal. Don’t know what Marse see ’n you.”

I wanted to tell Elsie to shut her fat mouth. Did she not have enough business to tend to and people to feed around here without constantly studying me? Still, her comment lit a fire under me and made me more determined to finish the chore. I was scrubbing a resistant bloodstain out of a white shirtsleeve when a shadow crept over me. I looked up and saw the Jailer blocking my sun. Discomfort slid down my spine.

Elsie’s hands were in the bowl of string beans. “Marse?” She made his name into a question.

“I want July to be with Pheby for the next few months.”