Horrible Harvest

It was at supper that we learnt Daddy was a guest at Rex, too. Not a guest so much as a prisoner. He was housed in what they call a Hell Box – A special built cage kept in a pond on a piece of the property out past the stables. His hands was cuffed at the top of the box and the water was chest high. Critters come in and about, taking nibbles, investigating – slither or swim, they all showed interest in the man in the Hell Box.

‘Fore we found out, me, Charles, and Momma entered the dining hall first, led in by our attendants. Momma was struck startled by how clean her two boys was. She’d spent almost her married life entire feeding the biggest appetites with the smallest amount of food, so tracking the bathing habits of her two fieldhand sons was near impossible. She just about cried when she seen us cleaned to a shine.

The Millers come in directly after, and we stood to greet them. Mr. Miller stretched his right arm out and up and clasped his left lapel with his other hand. “Hooray for we, the Miller three. For tonight, we dine with friends and wine. Tonight, we eat the savory and sweet. Tonight, we shall chat and chew the fat. Tonight, we shall enjoy all God’s graces and later, sleep with smiles on our faces.” He give a bow. We clapped because what the fuck else’re gonna do.

Mrs. Miller said, “My husband, the Poet Laurette of dinner parties.”

“Do you like it? I spent all day composing that in my head. Grace, what do you think? You’re the teacher. Should I submit my work to a publisher?”

Momma give a polite smile. “I have not taught for some years, but your poem made me feel welcome, if that means anything.”

The king placed his hand over his heart. “Then it has served its purpose. Please, sit. Sit.”

We done as instructed. Mr. Miller took his seat at the head of the table, while his wife and son took their seats on either side of him. Asses in chairs, the slaves quick give assistance to all in scooting up closer to the table. They moved so fast we three Tennysons was startled by their sudden appearance. They come out of the walls like ghosts.

Mrs. Miller leant into her husband and whispered.

“Of course.” Mr. Miller tapped his fine crystal glass with his spoon. “Dear guests, my boy Kenneth has something he would like to say.”

Kenneth and I shared a glance and I offered up a smile in his direction. He give one back and cleared his throat before saying, “Dear, Mrs. Tennyson, I would like to say – I would like to welcome you to our home. I am especially eager to make friends with Charles and Augustus, and I hope we will form a warm – A warm and unbreakable bond today, tomorrow and all the days forward – Moving forward. May Christ bless you and all – And all those you hold close – Hold dear.”

Momma made an extra show of gratitude. “Kenneth, I have never heard a finer speech. You’ve a gift for oratory and kindness. Thank you, child. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

Mrs. Miller give a clap and squeal. “He practiced so hard on that speech when he heard you were to stay with us.”

The king stretched out a cold smile on his face. “Yes. And he only stumbled over a few words. Not bad. We’ll practice harder next time, won’t we? Because a thing is not worth doing if it is not done, what, Kenneth?”

“Well, sir.”

“Well, indeed. Your effort was not near well enough. If I weren’t so hungry, we’d have you deliver it again. You’ve the skill to make a better show of it, but hungry I am, so sit, son. You’re holding up dinner. You’ll never make friends with Charles and Augustus if you don’t allow them to eat.”

Kenneth set with a heavy frown.

“It was a fine speech, sweetheart.”

“Isabel, dear, let’s not promote mediocrity. The sentiment of the speech was fine, but the delivery was less than adequate. His practice was for naught. Tell your mother, Kenneth. You could have done better.”

“I could have done better, mother.”

“There. We’ll discuss it no more.”

Momma held her tongue and plastered a warm grin on her face. She seen Kenneth for the lump of clay that he was. The kneading and shaping was underway and there weren’t a thing to be done to reshape him.

The king rung a bell setting next to his plate. As if a pump had been primed, servants poured in from the kitchen, each carrying a bowl of soup on a plate. Every serving was set in front of all at the table at the same time. It was a fine show of coordination and timing. Me, Charles, and Momma didn’t dip our spoons into the soup until the Miller’s had done so.

Mr. Miller wiped at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “There are possibilities to be had here, Grace.”

Momma held her spoon above the surface of the soup and give his statement some thought. He’d started a conversation in the middle instead of at the beginning, and it was a tad confusing.

“Cameron, let the poor woman settle in before you take up this conversation.”

“I only mean to give her hope in an effort to help her settle in.”

Momma set back. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Teaching. Do you miss it?”

She give consideration to his question. “I haven’t had much time to miss it.”

“It is not a question of time. It is a question of gut. Of desire. Do you miss it in your gut, Grace? Is teaching a desire?”

“I suppose it is fair to say I miss it. Yes.”

“It is fair, indeed. You are a bright woman. It is obvious for all to see. Augustus and Charles are well-learned despite their circumstances. It’s clear you have had a towering influence over their development. A remarkable feat, given what we now know about your husband’s character and how he must have run his household.”

“What of my husband, Mr. Miller?”

“He’s been treated for his injuries, and he’s doing quite well.”

“Where is he doing quite well?”

The question goes unanswered while the king finishes the last of his soup. A sip of sherry. A clearing of the throat. “On the premises.”

“Where on the premises?”

“How detailed shall I get? In front of the boys, I mean.”

“My boys have been forged by hardship, sir. There’s nothing you can say that will make their lives harder.”

“Very well. He’s being detained. Confined. The sheriff in Charleston is on his way here to transfer him to jail for his hand in a robbery in town. A brothel.”

“That’s enough, Cameron. I don’t want the boys to hear anymore.”

“Is that enough, Mrs. Tennyson?”

A nod. “It is.”

“Good. Because I don’t wish to discuss the grizzly matter of the stable manager. I would much rather discuss your talents and how we can utilize them.”

Momma looked to me and Charles. “My talents are utilized everywhere I go, sir, as a mother.”

A smug grin. “That’s what I mean by being a bright woman. You’ve a satisfying answer for all my probing questions. What I mean, madam, is that we would like you to tutor Kenneth. Along with your boys, of course. We’d spare no expense. I’ve even had the construction of a schoolhouse started on a stretch of property in the back, as well as a house of worship and dormitory.”

“All that for a single student? I don’t understand.”

“Three children, and I’ve a number of associates nearby who’ve expressed interest in expanding the minds of their children. I expect the school to garner a growing class once I spread word of its educator and curriculum.”

“And I would be the educator?”

“You would be, yes.”

“And the curriculum?”

“I leave that to you for the most part. Latin, literature, sciences, any tool you see fit for the advancement of young minds.”

“Any tool?”

“Any.” He sipped on his glass of sherry.

Momma studied his face.

“I would make one request of you.”

“That being?”

“The teachings on government and philosophy. I would ask that you focus on the ancient Greeks, as well as a few proponents of their system of rule in our contemporary south.”

“I see.”

“For instance, are you familiar with Aristotle?”

“Familiar? Yes, but not to a great degree.”

“I’ve books upon books of his works in my library. I’ll have Connie take you there when we’ve finished supper.”

Mrs. Miller give a groan. “I beg you, Cameron, let us not jump into politics on our guests’ first night with us.”

“The world is nothing but politics, my dear Isabel.” He give a sigh and then waved his white napkin about. “Fine. I shall leave the conversation with one last thought to give Grace an idea of what I’m trying to accomplish with this school. A philosophical precept of Aristotle’s. ‘It is necessary and expedient that some should rule, and others ruled; from the hour of their birth, some are marked out for subjection, others for rule.’” He sipped deeper on his sherry. “I aim to prepare generations of our class that the world is theirs to direct, and it would be negligent to let that responsibility fall to others who are not inclined by nature to take charge. Education is the key, Grace. Education.”

Momma give a nod. “We agree, Mr. Miller. Education is the key.”

Another sip of sherry. “There will be a training component, as well.”

“Training?”

“Military training. Drills. Firearms. Combat strategies and the like. After their traditional studies, of course. I’ve come to understand that knowledge without discipline is useless. I will handle that aspect, dear lady. Don’t you worry, and I promise it won’t interfere with your teaching. On the contrary, I believe you will discover that you will have more attentive, more dedicated pupils as their training progresses.”

Momma give a weak smile. “Have you had such training?”

“Not formerly, no. I’ve belonged to a militia or two over the years. Made the rank of colonel in my younger days in Alabama. Made me the man I am today.”

The soup done, the king rung the bell. The slaves hurried into the dining hall once again and snatched up the spent bowls and plates. As they exited the hall, they passed six more slaves entering with small plates of scalloped oysters. Mr. Miller’s favorite. He et them with gusto. As if they was the last oysters on Earth.

It was all a play of privilege. Food appeared on the table in six courses. Empty plates and bowls was taken away. Lack weren’t allowed to linger. More always come. I expect Mr. Miller coulda rung that bell a hundred times and each time more food’d come. He was in want of not a goddamn thing. He owned it all entire. The food. The servants. His wife and boy. Me, Charles, Momma. Near every bit of the world was his.