Queen

Perhaps they had all been expecting it to happen, the whites anyway, and

  some of the blacks, or even wanting it. They had all been flirting on the

  very edge of the line, taunting it, daring it; it had added spice to the

  day, and it was as if they needed a sharp reminder, before going home,

  of the natural order of their lives.

  Easter sank to the floor, still held in Morissey's grasp. The dancers

  stopped dancing. The band stopped playing. The room fell silent. A white

  man was asserting his dominance over a black, and there was nothing

  anyone in the bam could do. The only man who could help Easter was not

  there.

  Cap'n Jack was in despair. His daughter was being humiliated there, and

  visions of Annie being torn away from the girl, screaming, to some

  unknown fate, flooded his mind. Shaking with shame and fury, he looked

  desperately for James

  MERGING 285

  and tried not to believe that he wasn't there to save Easter, just as he

  had not been there to save Annie.

  "I say, who owns this nigra?" Ralph Morissey called again.

  It took Jass a moment to realize what was happening, and when he did, he

  looked around for his father. He could not see James, and then remembered

  him leaving some time before with Henry Clay, who had arrived in

  Nashville unexpectedly that morning.

  He looked at his mother, and she was looking at him. She nodded her head

  very slightly, and Jass understood that it was all up to him. His stomach

  lurched, but he could not shirk his duty-to himself, his family, his

  tribe, or to Easter. He was, at this moment, her Massa.

  He started walking toward Morissey. People moved aside to let him pass.

  The silence was deafening. His own footsteps thundered in Jass's ears,

  and Easter's gentle weeping. He heard a voice mutter behind him, "Flog

  the bitch."

  The walk lasted forever, but eventually he was there. He looked Morissey

  in the eye, and held out his hand to Easter.

  "Come along, Easter," he said. "I'm sure you have work to do. "

  She took his hand, and Morissey, honor satisfied, let go his grasp. The

  niggers knew who was in charge again.

  The silence continued as Jass led Easter away, he didn't know where,

  anywhere, just to get her out of there. Now they walked through the black

  section of the room, and the slaves, eyes downcast, parted for them in

  embarrassed silence as surely as the triumphant whites had done. Easter

  kept her eyes to the floor, to hide her tears and her shame, and Jass

  stared straight ahead.

  Cap'n Jack moved now. There was a small room attached to the barn, a shed

  or workplace, and he went to it and opened the door. Jass nodded to him

  gratefully, and took Easter inside.

  Even after they had left the room, the silence continued, until Andrew

  junior broke it.

  "What am I paying you for?" he called to the orchestra. "Play!" They

  began to play, sensibly, a slow waltz.

  A few couples started to dance again, and gradually something of the old

  mood returned-to half of those present. The blacks had been put back in

  their place and did not immedi-

  286 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  ately see the sense in provoking more of the white man's wrath. For the

  next three or four dances, it was a white man's party.

  James was not in the bam because Henry Clay had come to talk to him. He

  had arrived at the Hermitage that morning from Ashland, his home in

  Kentucky, where he had been spending the summer. He had made his respects

  to Andrew junior, who was not thrilled to see him, and Sarah, who was

  enchanted by his easy elegance, and he had watched the wedding from the

  house. When the rain started, he sought out James, who was the reason for

  his visit. They had been given the use of Andrew's study, which amused

  them, for both knew it was Andrew they were going to discuss.

  They circled the issue warily for a while, until James could not contain

  his curiosity.

  "How are things in Washington?" be began.

  "I've no idea," Henry laughed. "It's been a pleasant summer in Kentucky,

  away from it all. I do not relish going back."

  He was lying, and they both knew it. The cut and thrust of politics was

  life and blood to Henry.

  "And Andrew?" James asked, smiling in gentle provocation.,

  "Military men should be employed by governments, not in charge of them,"

  Henry laughed in response. "This second term is Andrew's last campaign,

  and he is determined to win the war. "

  He took a pinch of snuff. His levity did not fool James. He knew Henry

  was vitally concerned about the welfare of the country.

  "He rides roughshod over Congress, and has tom the Constitution to

  tatters. He claims a mandate from the people, but all they did was elect

  him to an office, not crown him king. He claims to be the champion of the

  states, but he gathers ever more power into his own office. John--he was

  referring to John Quincy Adams, Andrew's predecessor- "never used the

  veto once. Andrew threatens it every day."

  They were old enemies. Henry was particularly bitter about Andrew's veto

  of his bill to recharter the United States Bank. Andrew's bitter

  opposition to the central bank had led to its

  MERGING 287

  effective demise and to a rash of new state banks, operating under a

  patchwork quilt of legislation by the individual states.

  "He won't be there much longer. Another eighteen months-" James said.

  Henry laughed again. "Nothing will change. Van Buren will ride to the

  presidency on Andrew's coattails, and continue all his policies because he

  has none of his own."

  "You could run against him," James suggested, but although Henry shook his

  head, his reply was enigmatic. "Perhaps," he said.

  He took another pinch of snuff. "But Martin would be a formidable opponent,

  if only because he bathes in Andrew's aura," Henry continued. "We'll see."

  There was a small silence. James waited and wondered and guessed. Henry

  came to the point.

  "If you had information, written documents, that would help discredit

  Andrew, would you release them?"

  James felt a deep and churning anger rise. How did everybody know?

  "What documents?" he asked, evenly.

  "Bribes paid to certain compliant Chickasaws in return for a treaty." Henry

  did not mince matters.

  James shook his head. "I have no such evidence," he said. "No such proof."

  "A very large amount of Chickasaw land was deeded to you by the federal

  government immediately after that treaty was signed," Henry said. "Long

  before the land was generally made available."

  He stared at James, as if willing him to renounce the lie. But Henry was

  not Andrew, and his steady gaze only caused James's anger to erupt.

  "It was collateral for a loan," he exploded. "I've lent him fortunes over

  the years, going all the way back to New Orleans, and never seen a penny in

  return. This
time I wanted insurance."

  Henry sighed, knowing he was wasting his time. He had not expected to

  succeed, but he would not have forgiven himself if he had not tried.

  "Did you get your money back?" He smiled. There was no point in

  antagonizing James any further.

  288 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  "Yes," James said. -I got my money back."

  Henry kept trying, but gently now, for he understood the truth. James did

  have proof of Andrew's culpability, but in releasing it he might destroy

  himself, and few men are willing to be their own executioners. Eventually

  they said their goodbyes, and Henry made to leave.

  "All I did was lend him money," James said again, as Henry left the room.

  In a small side room of the bam, Cap'n Jack and Angel were trying to

  comfort the wretched Easter.

  "Hush, chile," Cap'n Jack said. "'Twere an accident. No one gwine blame

  you."

  "They all did," Easter cried. "'Tweren't my fault!"

  Angel nodded because she saw the injustice of it. "I said no good would

  come of it, black folk mixin' with white," she said. "'Tain't fittin'."

  Easter stared at the party through the open door. What hurt her most was

  that Jass had not stayed with her. He had brought her here, said a few

  sensible things while she cried, and then left her. She could see him

  dancing with Lizzie, as if nothing much had happened.

  Reuben came to the door. "Feelin' better?" he asked, with genuine

  concern. Easter stared at him, and then at Jass dancing with Lizzie, and

  could not cope with any of it. She slammed the door in Reuben's face, and

  fell into Cap'n Jack's anns, weeping again.

  If there had ever been a chance that Cap'n Jack would forget or abandon

  his vows of vengeance against James, it was gone now. Easter had been

  silly and forgetful, but no more than that, and surely did not deserve

  such a public humiliation. James was not directly responsible for what

  had happened, but he was a Massa of slaves, and that in itself was

  causing a blind fury in Cap'n Jack. Not even Jass's triumphant behavior

  was of any solace to him.

  But Jass had impressed many of the white women present, and especially

  Lizzie. The boy had looked like a man, had behaved like a man, striding

  across the silent dance floor to protect his property. Several female

  hearts had fluttered, and Jass was not

  MERGING 289

  short of dancing partners, but Lizzie deflected any rivals by refusing to

  let him out of her sight or her arms. At the same time, being sensible, she

  did not attempt to silence any of the flattering attention that was

  surrounding Jass.

  Jass loved it. He had met his first challenge in the adult world, and had

  triumphed. Nor did he mind the fact that Lizzie was constantly beside him.

  She was pretty, she was his own age, and she was flirting with him

  outrageously. Jass knew he would have sweet dreams that night.

  He even felt some charity toward Easter. At first, when he realized the

  enormity of what she had done, his only thought was to thrash her hide, but

  now, hero of the moment, he decided that she'd been silly, she was only

  young, and he looked forward to smacking her cute little tail.

  He wondered how much more he could achieve. The barn was hot, the evening

  cool. He suggested to Lizzie that they take a turn outside, and she had

  flutteringly agreed.

  The rain had stopped, leaving behind the pretty smell of a damp garden.

  They strolled together arm in arm for a while, and then Jass summoned up

  his courage.

  "I wonder if-- he began, "-when we get back to Alabama-I might call on

  you."

  Lizzie, knowing the future that her parents at least were mapping out for

  them, feigned surprise.

  "Whatever for?" she asked innocently.

  The question confused Jass; the answer was obvious to him. "Well, you know,

  so we can-get to know each other better."

  Lizzie waved her fan rapidly, as if she were having hot flushes.

  "Why, Mr. Jackson," she drawled. "I do believe you're courting me."

  Jass, to his surprise, didn't blush. "I guess I am," he laughed.

  "My," Lizzie said. "I don't believe I'm quite ready for that." She saw the

  disappointment on his face, and added her intended rider. "But I don't

  suppose there'd be any harm if you came to see me once in a while-"

  Jass laughed again, feeling wonderful. Having got this far, he decided to

  push his luck.

  "Oh, Lizzie," he said and hoped it conveyed some passion.

  290 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  He leaned close to her and kissed her on the lips, his as firmly closed

  as hers.

  Lizzie allowed it to happen, and then broke away in apparent outrage.

  "Sir!" she cried. "Just because I squeezed you into my dance card does

  not give you the right to violate my person! Don't you ever kiss me

  again!"

  For a moment, Jass was confused, and believed that she meant it.

  "Not until you have learned to do it properiy," Lizzie laughed, and ran

  back to the barn.

  Jass laughed too, but didn't follow her. He had accomplished enough for

  one night, and knew there was no more to be had. He had stared at the

  stars, and found it hard to believe that life, with its many daunting

  confusions, could offer such enom-tous rewards.

  Only one tiny problem clouded his flawless horizon. He had kissed Lizzie

  chastely, lips closed, as he kissed all womenhis mother, his aunts, his

  sisters and his cousins-but she had suggested it was not enough.

  Obviously, there, was more to kissing than Jass had understood.

  He wondered whom he could ask about it, and dismissed any of the older

  men he knew, because perhaps it was something he should already know.

  Wesley, he decided. On his return to Florence, he would seek the advice

  of his old nemesis, Wesley, because now they had something in common.

  He didn't want to go back to the party, which was in its closing stages

  anyway. He wanted this night to last forever.

  Jass sat on a log and savored the night and took joy in the company of

  his newfound friend, Jass.

  35

  lass kept his promise to himself, but James broke his word to Sally. He

  wrote to Andrew soon after their return to Florence, but it was because

  they heard of a chimney fire that had destroyed the Hermitage. There had

  been no loss of life, but the letter was full of sympathy, for James knew

  how much the mansion he had so lovingly built meant to his old friend. He

  did not mention the removal, or the contentious letters, telling himself

  that this was not the time, that he wanted to restore a working

  relationship with Andrew again before raising such difficult matters.

  Andrew replied a few weeks later, and was courteous and wrote of his

  determination to rebuild the Hermitage exactly as it had been. It pleased

  James to have such a warm response and he was becoming less concerned

  about the removal. The Chickasaw were going west, and while
he heard many

  stories about their privations along the way, James decided that Sara was

  right. It wasn't the same as the British in Ireland: The Indians were

  being given good land, to live in peace and prosperity in their tribal

  manner. It was young Doublehead who helped bring James to this conclusion,

  although he was hardly young anymore.

  It was a cold November afternoon. James was alone in the house, but for

  several slaves. Sally and Sassy were staying with Mary, who was in

  confinement again, and Jass was spending the weekend with his new friend

  Wesley. The Trio were with Sally and Sassy.

  The winter sun was low and without warmth. The dogs had been uneasy since

  midday, restless and whining. Several times, James had looked out the

  window and thought he saw people moving among the distant trees, but

  assumed it to be the normal business of the plantation. Toward sundown,

  the dogs started barking in eamest, incessantly, excitedly, as at

  prowl-

 

  291

  292 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  ers, and James went outside to investigate, hoping a slave had not been

  foolish enough to run away.

  Mitchell and Noah, a slave guard, were on the front lawn, both with dogs

  straining at their leashes, desperate to get to some quarry. Other slaves

  had gathered near the house, silently, curiously, looking to the horizon.

  Standing among the distant trees, in small groups of two and three,

  family groups, were some Indians, Cherokee or Chickasaw, James guessed,

  tribally dressed for winter. They had luggage with them, bundles and

  packs, as if they were going on a journey.

  They did nothing but stare at the mansion, or the hill on which it stood.

  They seemed to have no purpose or intention, and their stillness maddened

  the dogs more than any movement.

  James became aware of Cap'n Jack standing beside him.

  "It's Doublehead," Cap'n Jack said.

  Young Chief Jimmy Doublehead, now a man of forty, was standing at the

  gate, a woman beside him carrying a child, and a couple of elders. Like

  the others, they did nothing but stare at the house.

  "Kennel the dogs," James said.

  Mitchell was reluctant. You never knew, with Indians.

  :'Sir, them's Injuns-" he began, but James cut him short.

  'Kennel the dogs!" he commanded.

  Mitchell glanced at Noah, and at the Chickasaw, and having no choice,

  obeyed the order, pulling the dogs away, behind the house.

  Once the dogs were gone, Doublehead and the elders began walking to the

  house. It was a cold evening. James shivered a little, and went back

  inside.

  Shortly afterward, there was a tap on the door of his study, and Parson

  Dick came in, followed by Doublehead, his squaw, and the elders. James

  rose from his desk to greet his old friend.

  11 Jimmy, how good to see you," he said warmly, holding out his hand. But

  Doublehead did not accept the greeting, and spoke in Cherokee.

  "You know I can't speak your language," James said, and laughed. "I know

  I should, the years I've lived here, but let's speak in English."

  But Doublehead spoke again in his language. There was a

  MERGING 293

  small silence, and James was embarrassed. The gravity of the Cherokee's

  demeanor disturbed him.

  "He says he will not speak the white man's tongue," a quiet voice said,

  and James realized that it was Parson Dick.

  "Since he is forbidden by white man's law to live among you, he sees no

  need for your language," Parson Dick continued.

  James was astonished that Parson Dick had any knowledge of Cherokee, but

  was more concerned at establishing some communication with Jimmy.

  "What does he want?" James asked.

  Parson Dick spoke in Cherokee, and Doublehead replied.

  "You told us we could live amongst you as equals, but that is denied to

  us," Parson Dick said. "Now you tell us that we cannot even live amongst

  you."

  He listened again.

  "What will you tell us next? That we cannot live?-

  James had no reply. He was excluded from Doublehead's world now, just as

  Doublehead was being excluded from his.