Yellow Wife(36)

“No, no, no, don’t take him,” she bawled. Two men pinned her hands behind her back and dragged her in the opposite direction of the boy. Her headscarf slipped off as she twitched to be let loose. She tried to kick but they continued to pull her. I wrapped my arms around my waist as they threw her into the jail. Even with the door closed, I could hear the sounds of her agony. The little boy was tied with a rope and hauled away.

“What is going to happen to him?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

“Don’t like to keep kin together round here. ’Specially mamas and sons.”

Abbie’s words hit me in the chest. Monroe. I had fallen into a trap. The Jailer had sent me off on leisure so that he could steal my son. I took off running. My shoe slipped off my foot, but that did not deter me. I burst through the side door of the house and shouted.

“July, July!”

No answer.

I moved down the hall toward my room, my heart thumping so loud I could not hear myself breathe. When I pushed through the door, July and Monroe were on the floor. She tickled his belly and he cooed. I swooped him up in my arms.

“I do something wrong?” July stared, confused.

“No, sweet girl.” I kissed the top of her head. I rocked Monroe and with the other hand clung to July. These two were my family now, and I had to protect them at all costs.



* * *



As I worked in the shed over the next week, the cries of the poor woman being separated from her son rang in my ears. I tried to keep Monroe tied to me at all times. Every evening Monroe slept nestled under my breasts. But even with him so close, my spirit would not rest. In the middle of the night my mind turned over my options. If Monroe and I could get on the other side of the gates, we would run. But the Jailer would never give me permission to take Monroe outside of the jail. I could try to escape in the middle of the night with Monroe, but security on the property was high. It was nearly impossible to move around undetected.

And then Corrina Hinton walked through my mind. She was a woman like me, yet she lived a life better than some white women. Seemed happier than Missus Delphina for sure. Mama’s plan had not gotten me my papers, but at least offered me some advantages: Miss Sally’s education, never whipped, never worked the fields, always had a full belly and slept in a warm bed. Could I even guarantee that for my son? Our son.

If Essex searched for me, how would he find me here? Seemed near impossible when I thought honestly. Since I’d arrived in the jail I’d hung on to hope that Master Jacob would rescue me, but my dream of escaping this place had died with him. Nothing’s more impossible than being rescued by a dead person. It was time for me to become my own savior. As much as the very thought of letting the Jailer touch me repulsed me, as shattered as my heart would be to give up on Essex, the need to protect my child outweighed everything else. My days as a girl were gone. Now I had to think like a woman.

That night I wept through my bath and shed what innocence I had remaining. In my robe, I fed Monroe and rocked him until he drifted off to sleep. When the Jailer sent word for me through Abbie I sighed, pushed myself forward, and opened the closet. Still hanging were the three dresses. I ran my fingers over each one of them, then selected the maroon dress with a lace petticoat.

“Lovely choice.” Abbie patted Monroe’s back while July threaded me into my corset, same as I had Missus Delphina what seemed like a lifetime ago. Then she held the dress open so that I could step into it. July pulled my hair off my shoulders and Abbie told her to pinch my cheeks.

“You look beautiful.”

I kissed Monroe on his temple, closed my bedroom door, and walked slowly toward the parlor. When I turned the corner, the Jailer’s mouth broke and the pleasure in his eyes gave me the gall to move forward.

“You are lovely.”

“Thank you.” I took my seat.

“Will you escort me to my room?”

“No dessert tonight?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes, please.”

He beckoned Abbie to bring dessert for both of us and a drink for him. He fidgeted in his chair like a surly child who could not wait to unwrap a birthday present. Abbie returned with the two plates. I ate my pie as slowly as I could. Tonight, he did not watch me. He ate his in three big bites.

“Will you escort me to my room?”

I put my plate on the table next to me. “Would you like to hear a song?”

“No.”

“Just one? It would please me.”

He groaned. “As you wish.”

I moved unhurriedly to the piano. I played a love song that I had composed in my head. It was the story of a love triangle.

A girl who loved a boy but had been promised to another. My fingers glided across the keys, pounding out my feelings for my true love but at the same time saying goodbye.

“Come with me. Please?” His voice cracked and pleaded. Then he was standing behind me. “I promise not to hurt you.”

I gave him my hand and he enclosed it in his.

“I need something first.”

“Anything.”

“You must promise to never sell my son away from me.”

His eyes went wild and then settled on my face. “Okay.”

“And you cannot take a wife. As long as I reside at this jail, your allegiance is to me.”