Horrible Harvest

When we touched ground on the Kingdom of Rex, we was greeted with open arms. Mrs. Miller come at us like a long-lost relative setting eyes on us for the first time in years. We, the three of us, stood in front of our rickety old rig, looking as out of place as a hat on a horse, and the queen of the estate wrapped Momma up in a hug first.

“There, there, Grace. You mustn’t fret. You are safe now. I’ve only just learned of the horror you’ve been through. First, this wretched business with Mr. Tennyson, and now this awful storm. I feel like such an inept neighbor for not putting in more concern on your behalf sooner, but you are here now and that is all that matters.”

She turnt her attention onto me and Charles. “Let me get a look at you two boys.” She knelt in her pretty dress and one by one, she held onto our shoulders, scanned us head to toe, and then pult both of us into a cold hug. I had holt of my one and only possession left in this world, a bedroll, and she nearly knocked it loose. “Boys, boys, boys. Everything is on the mend now. You are here, and we’ve scores of wonders awaiting you. Kenneth is engaged in his business studies with his father, but when he is freed from such tedious learnings, he will fill your time here with entertainment and leisure.”

Momma put on a smile. “And just how much of our time is to be filled here?”

Mrs. Miller stood. Three female attendants quick stepped forward and wiped away the dirt from her dress collected by her selfless act of kneeling.

“As much time as required, my dear. We are guided by our Christian sensibilities to provide you a new beginning. Such endeavors aren’t to be rushed.” The sounds of horses approaching took her attention wagon-way. “Awe. My two strapping Southern gentlemen must have heard you have arrived. You should be honored. My husband only interrupts his business dealings for the most special of occasions.”

Mr. Miller and Kenneth come toward us on matching black mounts, both sized to their riders.

“Dear, they’ve arrived. What am I saying? Of course they have. You’re not blind.”

The king and the prince dismounted. “You have to calm yourself, Mrs. Miller.”

“I’ve just been so worried about them. I have been so worried about you, Grace. I cannot tell you how absolutely thrilled I am that you are here. Safe.”

“I trust your travels were tolerable, Mrs. Tennyson.”

Momma give him a slight nod. “Our travels were fine. Are we to be held captive here?”

Mrs. Miller is too offended to speak.

The king stepped back and fount a hang at the shoulders before removing his hat. “My dear lady, you are being cared for by your neighbors. Isabel and I grew concerned by the news reaching us about your husband’s behavior. Normally, we would not insert ourselves in a marital dispute, but Horace is clearly capable of treacherous conduct. In addition, we’re informed the storm has rendered your house uninhabitable. We simply thought it best for your safety and your boys’ that you stay with us until your situation can be addressed.”

“We’ve been forcibly sequestered to our house for the last several days, sir. That carries the air of control more than concern.”

Mrs. Miller puffed out her chest and come to the defense of her king. “Grace, that is quite enough. My husband is a congenial creature who cares only about your safety and the safety of your boys. I find your suggestion that he has something nefarious in mind to be unseemly and rude. I am sorry to be so forward in my assessment of your behavior, but Cameron is only doing his Christian duty in providing you shelter and care.”

Momma weren’t no fool. She knew we was dropped down into a pit of snakes. Looking at the desperate nature of her situation and the fact that she had two young boys in her care, she come to the notion in that moment that charming the snakes was a better tact than fighting them. “Of course. I apologize. It’s been a difficult number of weeks. My antagonism is misguided. I have much to be angry about, but your hospitality, Mr. Miller, is not among them. Please, forgive me.”

The king bowed his head ever so slightly and sandwiched her hand between his. “It is I who should apologize to you, madam. I have trained my men too well. I charged them to follow Mr. Tennyson’s instruction without question, and not to interfere with his command over his farm and household. I meant not that they should stand idly by while you were beaten at his direction. I have docked them all a day’s wages for their dereliction of duty. Common sense should have moved them to step in, regardless of my initial directive.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“But it is, and Tate is serving additional punishment for his actions as we speak. I cannot begin to tell you how utterly disappointed I am in that boy.”

I seen Momma shiver. “He’s not to blame, sir. He’s as innocent as I.”

“He beat a white woman.”

“At the direction of my husband.”

“He took up the Devil’s hand.”

“And your men applied a hot iron to his face for doing so.”

“At the direction of your son.”

Charles turnt his dead-eyed gaze to Mr. Miller.

“Regardless, he shouldn’t be subjected to further punishment.”

The king give a pause and then patted Momma’s hand. “I am told there are other behaviors with which I should be concerned, Mrs. Tennyson.”

Momma’s mouth pinched in before she said, “I am sure I don’t know anything about that, but whatever they may be, a hot iron to the face should be more than sufficient punishment. He was quite ill when he was removed from the farm.”

“Yes, well, he’s on the mend.” He give go of her hand. “And you may have a point. I will take the matter under consideration.”

Mrs. Miller can’t take no more of their conversation. “All this talk of horrible deeds must come to an end. Come. Let us show you your accommodations”

“I’ll leave you ladies to it until supper. Kenneth, tend to your mother and our guests.” With that, the king returned to his horse.

Mrs. Miller took Momma by the hand. “I hope you will be pleased. I’ve been working around the clock for days directing the staff in preparing your rooms. No visual delight has been unused. You boys will be thrilled to learn you’ll each get your own room.”

“That’s far too generous, Mrs. Miller.”

“Isabel. Please. I know so few people who call me by my first name. I am looking forward to hearing it again. And helping another provides me with comfort that I am playing my days on this planet as God intended. What you call generosity is His work. Not mine.”

We all climbed the fancy stairs up to the porch. Two of Mrs. Miller’s attendants rushed quick ahead and pushed open the huge double doors to the house. Crossing the doorway was like stepping into the lobby of a grand hotel, something I’d only known from books. The wood floor was shined to look like ice. We three farm folks stepped onto it, unsure if our footing would hold. Paintings. Chandeliers. Pillars. Rugs from the orient and Europe. Well-appointed furniture. The house was decorated with every gadget of ugly plenty that near ever existed on the planet.

What’s called an imperial staircase was opposite the never-ending foyer. Two sets of stairs curved outward and upward, only to connect up at the top of the second floor. It was the heart of Mr. Millers unspoken proclamation. We rich shits who live here are wealthy beyond your wildest fucking dreams, you meager sumbitches.

At the top of the stairs, Mrs. Miller give us direction to a hallway to the right. “This is your wing. I’m afraid it still smells of paint, but not to worry, it is dry. I had the staff fan it to accelerate the process.” She reached the first door on the left and opened it. “This is your room, Grace.”

Me and Charles entered first. It was a room that our tiny house could’ve nestled into with space all round. The ceiling was nearly tall enough to lose sight of. A canopy bed big enough for four people set against the far wall. A reading chair. Fireplace. Wardrobe. A Vanity set. All it was missing was a stove and cooking pans to keep a body settled in permanent.

Momma’s knees took on a wobble. I ain’t never seen her drink a drop of liquor, but she looked as staple as a drunkard standing in the doorway of that bedroom.

Mrs. Miller grew concerned. “If you are not pleased, we’ve scores of other rooms to choose from.”

“Forgive me, Mrs. Miller, but I am embarrassed.

“Isabel, dear, and why on Earth should you be embarrassed?”

“I am not worthy of this.”

The queen grabbed up Momma’s hand, and they stood in the doorway together. “It’s that detestable husband of yours, Grace. He’s made you live a lie so long you no longer know the truth. This room, sweet lady, is not worthy of you, and it is I who should be embarrassed for not providing accommodations that equal you in value.”

  Momma stifled a cry.

“This is a new beginning for you and your boys. You are home.” Mrs. Miller give Momma’s hand a gentle pat. “You will find all the clothes you will need in the wardrobe.” She called out to a young slave girl. “This is Connie. Say, hello to Mrs. Tennyson, dear.”

“Hello, missus.”

“Connie.”

“Connie is your attendant. She is my very favorite. I’ve trained her well. Haven’t I, dear?”

“Yes, Mistress Miller, ma’am.”

“I don’t need an attendant.”

“Nonsense. Everyone needs an attendant. You mustn’t worry about her. Waiting on you is an assignment she prefers over the alternative. Isn’t that right, Connie?”

“Yes, Mistress Miller, ma’am.”

“You see. You’re saving her from a life of wretchedness. I thought you might want Connie to draw you a bath.”

“A bath?”

“It is a wonderful remedy to prolonged hardship, I can attest.”

“But I should help get the boys settled.”

“Fiddle-faddle, I can get the boys settled. I’ll be arranging baths for them, too. If that does not meet your objection, of course.”

Momma looked me and Charles over and was struck sudden by the layers of dirt that covered never every inch of us both “I do not object, no.”

Mrs. Miller released Momma’s hand and touched her cheek. “I am so happy you are here, Grace.” She stepped back. “Connie, help Mrs. Tennyson pick out an ensemble for dinner and then ready her bath, and you mustn’t let the poor woman fret about you assisting her. Spoil her, my girl. She is in dire need of pampering.”

“Yes, Mistress Miller, ma’am.”

The queen turnt her attention on me and Charles. “Come, lads, let’s get a look at your rooms, and then you two are in for a scrubbing.”

Momma called out, “Just a moment.”

We all come to a stop.

“I’d like a word. With the boys.”

Mrs. Miller smiled. “Of course.”

Me and Charles moved to Momma as she knelt. She wrapped us both up in a tight hug. I could feel her need for us in that hug. Inches from our ears. Softly. Quietly. The words tiptoed off her tongue. “This isn’t real. Don’t be deceived by the lie.”