Horrible Harvest

I dove back into the Groundnut Cakes. My mind tumbled around, trying like hell to figure out what business Daddy had with Penelope. The thought of him having a single thing to do with her made me scared for her. He was a toothy dog without manners. She was liable to get bit by the mean ol’ bastard.

Lady Faye fiddled with her hair, trying like the devil to tame it to the top of her head in a bun. “Miss Ginger, the boy’s your responsibility tonight.”

“Oh, no, miss Lady. You ain’t pawning him off on me.”

“I don’t have any choice unless you want to work the front of the house and leave me to watch him.”

“Ain’t no whore keeper. Done told you that. I keep the kitchen. Nothing more. I get you lady’s fed and do what I can to keep you fit. That’s my business. Nothing else that goes on around here has a thing to do with me. I spend all night praying myself out of trouble with God just by being in this house.”

“Well, tonight, the boy is part of the kitchen, which means it’s on you to keep after him.”

Miss Ginger groaned. “It ain’t fair. Not in the least, it ain’t fair.”

“I’ll take you back to Savannah and sell you right back to Edgar Stark – ”

“Every time you go to keep me in line, you threaten me with old Edgar Stark. Man lost his money. He couldn’t buy me back even if he wanted to, and I can tell you true, he don’t want a thing to do with me. He didn’t care for my jaunty ways. Thinks me too insolent, he does.”

“He’s right about that,” Lady Faye said as she approached Miss Ginger. She placed her arm around the black woman’s shoulder and give her a kiss on her chubby cheek. “I’ll pay him to take you off my hands.”

Miss Ginger laughed. “You ain’t got that much money, Miss Lady.”

Lady Faye pulled Miss Ginger in closer and placed her head on her servant’s shoulder. “Be a dear and watch the boy.”

“I’ve no capacity for such tasks, and he’s the two things I hate most in this world – a white and a boy.”

“He’s no trouble. Here, we’ll give him something to do to occupy his time. Augustus, boy, what is it you like to do? Cards? Drawing? What?”

I give thought to her question and said, “I like to read.”

“Read?” Lady Faye clapped with excitement. “I’ve books upon books upon books.” She turnt to Miss Ginger. “There, you see? The boy won’t be any trouble at all. He’ll read right there at the table. All you’ll hear from him is the turning of the pages.”

Miss Ginger grunted as she unpacked her basket. “I don’t know why we discussing it like I got a choice. Bring the boy some books and get on with your nasty business.”

Lady Faye shuffled out the room, patting me on the shoulder on the way out.

I watched her disappear down the hall and then turnt back to watch Miss Ginger go about her duties. With her back to me, I give what I just seen some thought and said, “I ain’t never seen a white kiss a slave.”

“I ain’t never seen a skinny little cracker eat up all my Groundnut Cakes in one sitting. This day’s full of ain’t seens before.”

“Lady Faye your master?”

“So, she says.”

“You don’t see it that way?”

“I ain’t allowed to see it no different, so what’s it matter?”

“At least she’s nice.”

“She is that. ‘Les you come between her and her money.”

“She bought you from this Stark Fella?”

“Boy, you got a lot of questions. You gonna be yapping this way all night?”

“No, ma’am. I just like to know stuff.”

“You’re better off keeping to your business than digging into mine.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If you gotta know so bad, Mr. Stark was the ancient ol’ sumbitch who kept me previous. He couldn’t pay his whore habit, so he sold my papers to Lady Faye, which puts me here, answering a little white toddlers endless questions in a house God has kicked to the Devil.”

“What’s a whore habit?”

“You don’t know what a whore is?”

“No, I reckon I do. I just don’t know how such a thing becomes a habit.”

“Then, boy, you ain’t got no idea what a whore is.”

“Oh.” A breeze of time passed before I moved onto my next question. “You like being a slave?”

She turnt to me. It was a thick turn. Slow. Like she was thinking every thought in her head before she locked eyes on me. “Boy, what is wrong with you? You born this stupid or did you get a kick to the head somewheres along the way?”

“No, ma’am. I was just curious – ”

“There’s curious and there’s shit you just know. Why you asking me something you already know?”

“It just seems fun here, is all.”

“That’s ‘cause your getting you a stomach-full of Groundnut Cakes and an eyeful of little ol’ titties bouncing this way and that. Ain’t nothing fun ‘bout this place. You got questions? I’ll give you one to ask. Ask me what I done last night?”

Her voice went dark, and I couldn’t get up the backbone to ask her question.

“Ask me, boy.”

“What’d you do last night?”

“I patched up a sweet little Rhonda. Ask me why?”

“Why?”

“A man paid for her time. A big man. Important, he is. Got him rooms he rents out. Houses up-down the peninsula. Mr. Pratt. Ain’t nothing good about him. He beat poor Rhonda blind in one eye. Knocked her jaw crooked. Bit her nipple clean through. Ask me what come of him for doing such a thing to that sweet girl?”

“What come of – ”

“Not a fucking thing, boy. You ask me what it’s like being a slave? It’s like that. I mend little white whores beat near dead by wicked rich men, and the law says I got less worth than both of them. Wha’choo think that feels like, Mr. Augustus?

Lady Faye entered with a stack of books and set them down on the table beside me. “I’ve nothing suitable for a boy of your age, I’m afraid. Some may be a bit racy. We do like our stories of stable boy romps and the like, but you’re far too impressionable for that form of literature.” She sorted through the stack, and then squealed like a squirrel finding a nut, “Ghosts!”

I looked to her, relieved she’d come back and more than a bit confused by her excitement.

“Do you like tales of haunted houses?”

I nodded.

She handed me a book. “Then I recommend The House of the Seven Gables by Mr. Nathaniel Hawthorne. A spookier book you will not read.”

Miss Ginger sighed. “You might as well give him a signed letter from Satan himself inviting the boy to take up residence in hell. Ain’t you got a Bible or something more godly?”

“Better to go to hell with a good book than to heaven with the Good Book.” Lady Faye kissed me on top of my head. “Read, sweet boy. Miss Ginger, what are you cooking up for supper?”

“Beef stew.”

“You’ll see to it that our young visitor gets a bowlful?”

“Yes’um.”

“And if it gets on to be too late, you’ll lay down a pallet for him in the corner, out of the way?”

“Lordy, first you promise me I ain’t gonna hear nothing but pages in his book turning. Now I’m feeding the boy and putting him to bed.”

Lady Faye leaned down and whispered, “She’s all bark and no bite, boy. Miss Ginger will take good care of you.”  She give me a squeeze at the shoulders and then exited the kitchen.

I stared at the cover of the book for a time and took a breath before attempting to ask Miss Ginger another question. Before I put air to sound, she, with her back still to me, stopped me. “Read, boy.”

I opened the book and did as told.