Yellow Wife(40)

Ever since Abbie had told me the bakery was a stop for runaways, I had thought about asking them to smuggle my boy and me up North and give this new baby a chance to be born into freedom. It was a thought that I indulged in the middle of the night, but the people of Richmond were so afraid of Rubin Lapier that I doubted they would risk their lives to help me. Even before I asked, I would need to find a way to get my son off the premises of the jail—a near impossible feat, because the Jailer’s guards watched everyone.



* * *



The August heat made it too warm in the supply shed to shut the door, so I kept it propped open and wished for a cool breeze. Lavender plants were stationed at the front of the door to dissuade mosquitoes from bothering me. In those first few months, I had turned the space into a full-fledged dressing room. A sheer piece of material hung from the ceiling to give the old room a sense of warmth when the girls were herded in. Buttons, fringes, feathers, ribbons, lace, gloves, and bonnets—all accumulated from my weekly trips to the market—were organized into drawers. Fabric was rolled neatly and the dresses were hung. I even managed to string together some jewels for the highly prized girls, the ones the Jailer thought would fetch eight or nine hundred dollars. I liked to keep things tidy, since the space was small. I stood sweeping loose ends from the floor when Basil approached with the next group.

There were four fair-skinned girls. They introduced themselves as Missy, Taffy, Beth-Anne, and Brenda. Brenda was the oldest of the bunch. I could tell by the way she poked out her lip that she had lived a life that afforded an air of stubbornness.

“You need to comb your hair,” I said, blushing Brenda’s cheeks with the rouge I had made from mixing hibiscus flowers, arrowroot powder, and lavender together. One of Mama’s recipes.

“Don’t want to be made up for them men.”

“It will be over soon.” I took a small dab to her lips, hoping to achieve a bee-stung affect.

“How you know that?”

“I am a praying woman.”

“Way you fixin’ us, I say you need the prayer.” She pulled back and then spit in my face. I was so shocked that I dropped the jar of rouge and it splattered on the floor, spilling red all over her pretty yellow dress. The other three girls gasped in unison.

“You know I can have you whipped for that.” My tone pierced harshly.

“I don’t care what happen next. Can’t be worse’n what already done happen,” Brenda shrieked.

I wiped my cheek. I had a mind to slap the girl across the face myself. What was I going to do about the ruined dress? And my rouge. My thoughts were knotted over how to make her pay for it when July poked her head in.

“Marse ready for them,” she said. Monroe cooed at me from July’s hip. It had gotten to the point that it was hard for me to work and have him tied to my back.

“Take these three; tell him I need more time with the last one. I will escort her as soon as I can.”

July moved into the room, took in the scene. “You need help here?”

I shook my head, motioning for her to go.

“Brenda, where are you from?” I asked, regaining my composure.

“Nowhere.”

“Who is your mama?”

“No one.”

“Okay, then let me pray with you.” I grabbed her hands, but before I could open my mouth she started praying.

“Lawd, I come ’fore you thankin’ you for the air I breathe. One of your sheep done deserted you oh Lawd. She is dressed like a sheep but pretendin’. She really a wolf. Change ’er heart Lawd and bring ’er back to your Kingdom. Invite ’er back to you, Lawd, so she can do good and not evil. In Jesus’s name.”

I dropped her hands. She had a gap between her teeth and she smiled so I could see it.

“I do it for my son.”

“You do it for you. Been ’round your kind plenty.”

I found another dress. Not as nice as the first one, but I wanted her gone.

“I ain’t simple-minded either, if that’s what you think. But I can see thangs when I meet people and I sees you.” She stared until I dropped my eyes, looked down at my feet like she was a white woman.

Later at dinner, I moved rice and trout around my plate, still thinking about my encounter with Brenda. The Jailer did not notice because he loved the sound of his own voice. I wondered how he cleared his plate with all his talking. When I joined him in the parlor for dessert, he asked me to play. It was a relief to sit at the piano after the day I’d had. I positioned my fingers and let out the anger and the shame. When I finished, I had soaked my dress all the way through.

“Simply lovely.”

“Thank you.”

“Shall we retire?” he asked, as if I had a choice. The thought of him pumping into me made me ill.

“I am with child.”

His eyes opened wide, and it only took a moment before the notion produced a smile, lighting up his whole face.

“Are you serious?” He pulled me to my feet.

“Your child,” I said to assure him.

He wrapped me in his arms and brought his face close to mine. I could smell the whiskey on his breath before he kissed me. “You make me happy, Pheby Delores Brown.”

His hand rested on my belly. When he looked at me, his eyes said it all. It was endearing to watch, and for a split second, I forgot the evil that lived inside of him. I could see in his eyes an emotion that could only be described as love.