Queen

had the fight to dispose of them as he wished, and no court in the land

  would say otherwise.

  Wesley had done it like that, although the girl had neither hollered nor

  protested, but had giggled along with it. Or so Wesley had said. Most of

  the others in his class claimed a similar experience, with varying

  degrees of willingness and submission among their conquests, and only

  Adam, two months Jass's senior, boasted, with considerable relish of

  whipping and raping a slave girl to achieve his end.

  Jass didn't want it to be like that either, Jass wanted his first time

  to be an event of some moment in his life, not a quick shaft in a bam

  with an illiterate field girl, giggling or otherwise. He wanted a girl

  he could talk to, easily, seriously, intimately, or laugh with, and

  already he knew who she was. His problem was that he didn't know how to

  extend their relationship beyond simple friendship.

  Because Jass wanted Easter. Perhaps he'd always wanted her, even before

  he knew what wanting her was, and he certainly wanted her that day he

  told her she could go to the wedding. God, he could have done it to her

  right then and there, rolling on the ground covered in those stupid wet

  sheets, and she wanted him, he knew it, he could tell from the look of

  her, the feel of her, the way her legs parted slightly as she felt his

  hardness pressing against her-

  He rolled off the rock into the stream, in case anyone was watching him,

  although he guessed he was alone at this tranquil bend in the river, his

  secret spot.

  It was always the same when he thought of Easter-he got hard in a

  second-and when he was near her it was worsethe sight of her, the touch

  of her, the very musk of her excited him to a point of inner turmoil that

  he had no idea how to

  336 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  express, and so it was easier not to be near her.

  They knew each other too well, he decided. They'd shared a lifetime of

  growing up together, but their relationship did not include the intimacy

  and importance he gave to the act of copulation, and he was concerned

  that any suggestion of it by him would make her think he was taking

  advantage of his authority over her. So he avoided Easter and found

  excuses for not being with her, when actually she was the person he

  wanted to be with all the time, more than anyone else in the world.

  Nor could he discuss it with Cap'n Jack, because he couldn't imagine

  going to a man, even a slave, and saying, excuse me, but I want to do

  your daughter, which is what it boiled down to, no matter how nicely

  expressed. It wasn't the same as asking a father for his daughter's hand

  in marriagehe couldn't marry Easter, there was no future in any kind of

  relationship with her, even a physical one, but, oh, how he wanted her.

  Lolling in the shallow water, he had no answer to the problem, which had

  been tormenting him for months, and he pushed himself toward the deeper

  water, to swim to the shore, in the hope that the exercise would clear

  his mind.

  And he saw Easter sitting on the bank he was heading for, watching him.

  His clothes were beside tier, in a neat pile, where he had left them.

  He stopped swimming and stood waist deep in the water. With any other

  slave, male or female, he would have had no embarrassment. It didn't

  matter if a slave saw the Massa na ked; he was still the Massa, clothed

  or unclothed, and inhibitions of prudery were reserved for people who did

  matter, people of one's own kind. Easter was different. Easter mattered

  to Jass.

  "What are you doing?" he demanded.

  Easter shrugged. "Watchin' you," she said. "Ain't no law agin it. "

  "There is because I say so. Now clear off," he ordered, more sharply than

  usual because she had been on his mind.

  Easter had decided on her own course of action. She sorely missed Jass's

  company and had come to see him now if only to be near him for a while,

  to tease him, to pretend it was still like it once was between them.

  MERGING 337

  "Coz you nekkid? Bet you'd let Miss Lizzie see you nekkid," she giggled.

  Jass was slightly shocked. "Don't talk about Miss Perkins that way," he

  began, and Easter interrupted him.

  "It's Miss Perkins this An' Miss Perkins that all the time these days,"

  Easter said. "What happened to plain ol' Miss Lizzie?"

  Jass was trying hard not to smile, for he had realized something obvious,

  something he should have understood before. Easter was jealous of Lizzie.

  "You wouldn't understand--

  Easter interrupted him again. "Oh, I unnerstan'," she said. "You got the

  fever fo' Miss Lizzie, an' never come se yo' po' Easter no mo'."

  Jass wanted to giggle. It was going to be all right. This mild expression

  of both jealousy and lust by Easter had made it all right. It would be

  easy between them now.

  Still, he had to play the game, to see where it would lead. "That's foul

  talk," he said, not meaning it, for it excited him to talk this way with

  Easter.

  Easter knew it was all fight too, that they could be friends again now;

  she knew it from the tone of his voice, and the look in his eye. She

  loved playing games with Jass.

  She grabbed his clothes, and threw them farther up the bank.

  "Yo' c'n just cool off in that water a I'il whiles longer," she giggled.

  "You bring my clothes back this minute," he demanded, but the sense of

  fun in his voice gave him away, and Easter only laughed with him.

  Jass began advancing, very slowly, out of the water, inch by inch

  revealing slightly more and more of his nakedness.

  "I'll whip your hide," he called, grinning at her. "Wouldn't be the first

  time," Easter grinned back, making it clear she was ready to enjoy the

  experience.

  It was now or never, Jass thought. One more step would reveal to Easter

  what Wesley called the family jewels, and Jass was ready to take that

  step when he heard a horse galloping toward them.

  Easter heard it too, and turned in surprise. She saw the rider first, and

  turned back to Jass.

  "It my Pappy," she said.

  338 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  Cap'n Jack rode up to them and dismounted. He spoke sharply to his

  daughter, and she thought he was angry, but it was only because of the

  urgency and privacy of his business.

  "Git yo' tail outa here," he ordered Easter.

  She hesitated, a fraction too long, wondering why he was cross. She

  couldn't imagine he was bothered that she was here with the naked Jass.

  Her delay annoyed Cap'n Jack, and he smacked her, hard, on the rear.

  "Do as I tell," he roared. It shocked Easter-he hadn't raised his hand

  to her in years-and she ran away quickly, slightly scared of him.

  "What's the matter, Cap'n Jack?" Jass asked with as much surprise. Cap'n

  Jack did not immediately reply. He looked around, saw Jass's clothes and

  picked them up, brought them to the water's edge.

&nb
sp; "Get dressed, Massa," he said.

  In that single, simple word, Jass knew what the matter was. Cap'n Jack

  always called him "Massa Jass" or, to other people, "young Massa." The

  use of the word "Massa" could mean only one thing.

  Cold and lonely emotions that he had never experienced flooded Jass, of

  which the most stringent was fear-for himself and of his new

  responsibilities. He hardly remembered getting dressed, but did remember

  that his clothes felt as if they belonged to some other, younger man.

  Cap'n Jack had turned his back while Jass dressed. He'd seen the boy

  naked many times, but Jass was not a boy anymore. He was in a position

  of ultimate and absolute authority over Cap'n Jack now, and his new role

  deserved this much respect. He sensed the cessation of movement from Jass

  and turned to him.

  "Yo' Pappy dead, suh," he said. "Yo' the Massa now."

  Jass stood stock-still, almost at attention, drawing on resources he

  didn't know he had. There was so much to do, and he was the authority for

  it all to be done.

  "I sorry to be the one to tell yo'," Cap'n Jack said.

  Jass blinked, and looked away to the river. What should he do first? he

  wondered.

  "Thank you, Cap'n Jack," he said. "I'm glad it was you."

  Still he stared at the river. The sense of an awful loss and a found

  burden was starting inside him.

  MERGING 339

  Cap'n Jack watched him carefully, sure that Jass would behave well but

  still careful, in case his estimation was wrong.

  For just a moment, that surging sense of loss absolutely overwhelmed

  Jass. He wanted to cry, and knew he could not. He clenched his fists till

  the nails broke the skin of his palms, and bit his lip, hard, and fought

  the tears furiously.

  Somewhere deep inside Cap'n Jack another emotion raged just as furiously,

  for just as small a time. This boy owns me, he thought. I am a man, and

  this child owns me. For that brief moment, the bitter nail of bondage

  pierced clean through Cap'n Jack's heart. As immediately, the wound was

  healed by other considerations. I could have been free, his mind said.

  I chose this path, and I will see it to its end.

  As immediately, he knew that Jass had regained control of himself.

  "Best see to yo' mammy now, Massa," he said.

  Jass turned to him, not a boy anymore, nodded, and moved to his horse.

  Slaves had carried the body of James to the Massa's bedroom. Sally sat

  beside the bed, her eyes closed, rocking gently, keening silently, waiting

  to give full vent to her grief until she had done what she had to do.

  She was lost in a sea of silent grief and only a few specific sounds gave

  her any sense of direction, of finding a way toward tomorrow. She could

  hear Angel weeping softly just outside the door, and wondered why a slave

  should weep the death of a man who owned her. Through the open window,

  she could hear the sound of slaves in their quarters singing a spiritual,

  and that she understood. It was not an expression of their grief, but a

  calming of their fear, for they were in new and frightening territories,

  they had a new Massa, and things might be different now, and not

  necessarily for the better.

  She heard the sound of horses in the drive, and then footsteps on the

  gravel, then the veranda and then the hall, and she knew what they meant.

  She let go of her husband's hand, moved to the window, and stared out at

  nothing.

  When Jass came into the room, he knew what he would see, but wanted to

  delay it for just one more tiny moment. He looked at his mother, and she

  looked at the bed. Do it, her

  340 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  eyes pleaded, get it done, and then I can be alone.

  Jass went and sat beside his father. Sally had no desire to know what he

  was thinking, or what kind of good-bye he was saying to the man who had

  given him life. It was a private thing, between them, just as whatever

  good-bye she would say to the man she loved was a private thing to her, and

  need never be known by anyone else. It was not their business.

  Jass knew he wanted to say something to his father, but couldn't think

  what, because this wasn't his father lying there. It wasn't anyone, it was

  simply a thing. Whatever his father was or had been was somewhere else now,

  or at least not here. He felt guilty that he didn't feel more involved in

  some way, and said a little prayer, in the hope that God would forgive him,

  and that wherever his real father was, he would be at peace.

  After a little while, Sally knew that it was time to speak.

  " He wanted to tell you something," she said. "I don't know what it was,

  but it was important to him. I think it was about God."

  " I wish I'd been here," Jass said. He got up from the bed and went to his

  mother.

  "I am so very sorry," he whispered.

  Sally nodded. A single tear spurted out of her eye, just one, and fell to

  her cheek, like a little arrow failing to find an unknown target. She shook

  her head, almost angry with herself, and turned to Jass.

  All the myriad things, the fears and hopes and dreams and worries and pride

  and care that a mother feels for any of her children starting on a bold new

  journey flooded Sally's heart. He was too young for such an adventure.

  The king is dead, long live the king.

  "You are the Massa now," she said.

  Jass turned away, and then looked back at her, but she had turned away from

  him. Whatever else they needed to say, whatever else they wanted to

  discuss, would have to wait. She had done what had to be done; now he had

  to do what he must. She had anointed him with her tears and ceded her life

  to him. to his care. To his responsibility. To his whim. Or to his caprice.

  "Yes," he said, and left the room.

  MERGING 341

  It was done; she had nothing else to do. She could be alone with her

  grief. She went and sat beside James, lonelier than she had ever been in

  all her life, and wept.

  They were all there, waiting in the hall for him to come downstairs. They

  had been there, waiting for this moment, when he arrived at the house, but

  duty demanded he do his business with his dead father and his living

  mother first, and they had pretended they were not there, had turned their

  backs as he strode into the house and walked up the stairs.

  Now he was theirs, and they had assembled in a line in perfect pecking

  order. Mitchell, the overseer, was first. Murdoch, the trainer, was

  second-not because his was the second-best job, but because he was the

  second-ranking white. Parson Dick came next, followed by Julie, Angel,

  who was still crying, and then all the various house slaves. Cap'n Jack,

  because of his privileged and undefined position, and because he had

  already done his business, was not in the line but was outside, getting

  ready to greet the swarms of arrivals-the doctor first, and relatives and

  undertakers and associ
ates and friends come to pay their respects-who

  would descend on the house.

  They heard the door shut, and all eyes turned to Jass as he came down the

  stairs, and all approved what they saw. The natural transfer of power

  that attends to any son when his father dies had already happened. Jass

  was years older than he had been a few minutes ago.

  He came to the head of the line. Mitchell, hat in his hands, spoke first,

  for all of them.

  "We are all very sad by your great loss," he said, and then spoke for

  himself. "Hit was my pleasure to serve your father, sir, and hit'Id be

  my pleasure to serve you."

  "Thank you, Mitchell," Jass said. He shook the overseer's hand, and moved

  to Murdoch.

  "I am truly sorry, sir, he was a fine man." Murdoch was not lying. He

  held James in great regard. The events of the morning were all part of

  the job. "I look forward to serving you, sir."

  Jass shook his hand, and moved to Parson Dick. Slaves did not ask to be

  allowed to continue in their jobs, but the Massa had to be shown the

  proper respect.

  342 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  "My sincere condolences, sir." Parson Dick bowed his head slightly, to

  hide a flash of angry resentment. Like Cap'n Jack, he had known Jass all

  his life, from puling infant to toddling boy to spotty youth and now

  this colt had complete ascendancy over him, owned him, lock, stock, and

  barrel, and could do whatever he wished with him. Because he was white.

  Jass shook his hand too, which surprised the usually imperturbable

  Parson Dick, but Massas are Massas, and all are different, and all have

  their own idiosyncrasies, and Parson Dick knew it was kindly meant.

  Jass moved down the line, doing what had to be done, what was expected

  of him, and inside he was screaming, let me get out of here! Last in the

  line, a kitchen skivvy, a scrawny girlhe didn't even know her name,

  Trixie perhaps-was overawed by the solemnity and ceremony, and as Jass

  moved to her, she screamed, threw her apron over her head, and ran away

  to hide in the pantry.

  It broke the strained formality of the occasion, and made Jass want to

  giggle. Polly and Pattie ran after Trixie, Julie mumbled apologies, and

  Angel, listening on the stairs, had another bout of tears. Jass,

  suffocating, took the opportunity to escape. He turned away and walked

  quickly out of the house.

  He strode across the lawn with no sense of direction; he had to be away

  from here, away from them all, away, somewhere, anywhere, where he could

  be alone. And not alone, because what he wanted, what he needed, was the

  opportunity to be completely himself, without considerations of what he

  had to do for other people, only the unconfining freedom to do what he

  knew he must do, for himself.

  He knew where he was going, and he started to run. Field slaves, who had

  come close to the big house to be near the center of an important event

  in their lives, didn't try to speak to him, to stop him, for somehow

  they understood the urgency of his need, if not the need itself. A few

  doffed their hats, but otherwise they left him alone.

  He ran with lung-bursting energy to the place where he had to be.

  He burst in the door, slammed it behind him, and stood, panting not only

  from exhaustion, staring at her. Easter had

  MERGING 343

  been sitting at the loom, not to weave, but because she was comfortable

  sitting there, trying to work out what a future might be, if Jass might

  be different now that he was someone else, now that he had this new

  dominion over her. As soon as he came in, she knew why he was there, what

  he wanted, but it was uncharted sea for her, and she wasn't sure what she

  should say, or if she should say anything.

  His eyes told her not to speak. He looks so lonely, Easter thought, so

  old and young all at once, and she knew, without question or hesitation,

  where she had to be.

  She moved to him and took him into her arms, and he folded into her