house was burned to the ground with the rest of the city, and the employees
scattered to the winds. Alice, friendless and alone, spent days on the
road, until she was adopted by a Confederate officer, who fed her and
tended her, and gave her money to get to Decatur, and an introduction to
one of his friends there.
They met in a hotel, and the friend, George, was as generous to her with
his money as she was to him with her body. He set her up in a nice
apartment, and visited her from time to
594 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
time, when he could get away from his wife. It was a perfect arrangement,
for George was not jealous of any other male admirers Alice befriended. His
wife was a demanding and jealous woman. Keenly aware that secrets were
difficult to keep in a country town, Alice kept a low profile, was selective
with her favors, and worked hard to achieve an apparent respectability.
Alice tried to explain something of her life to Queen, avoiding the more
exotic details, and concentrating on the rape, and her subsequent resolution
that any white man who wanted her would have to pay dearly for the
privilege.
They lay together in the big brass bed, and Queen, who had never slept in
a comfortable bed, sank into the thick feather mattress and nestled her
head into the clean down pillow. Alice had burned Queen's ragged old
clothes, and had given her a lovely silk nightgown to wear. The window was
open to the summer night, and a cool breeze calmed Queen as she listened to
Alice's sad story. She tried to come to terms with Alice's admission that
she accepted money from men, but had great difficulty with it.
"I couldn't do that," she said, but she didn't want to offend. "And anyway,
I'm not pretty like you."
Alice laughed, and looked at her.
"What did they do to you in that big old mansion," she asked. "Didn't
anyone ever say nice things to you? Didn't anyone ever tell you how pretty
you are?"
Queen stared at the ceiling and remembered her life. No one had ever told
her she was pretty. No one had ever said anything very nice about her.
Except one person.
"Only my mammy," she said, and the memory of Easter made her sad.
"Well, your mamuny was right," Alice told her. She was silent for a moment.
"Mammys always are," she said, and some soft sadness in her voice made
Queen turn to look at her. She was staring at the ceiling remembering her
own mammy, and a tear was trickling down her cheek.
Queen could not bear to see her new friend in distress. She reached out and
gently stroked Alice's hair.
QUEEN 595
"I miss my mammy," Alice whispered.
She took Queen's hand, kissed it, and held it against her cheek. They
drifted to sleep, the pair of them, side by side, each loving the closeness
of someone who wanted nothing except friendship, and each remembering her
own dead mammy.
69
They were fast friends within days, and the only thing that worried Queen
was that she had no money and was completely reliant on Alice's generosity.
Alice insisted she shouldn't worry about it, two could live as cheaply as
one, and the right job for Queen would come along eventually. In the
meantime, they should simply enjoy life. In doubting moments, bewildered by
Alice's continuing hospitality, Queen wondered if her new friend had a
devious purpose, if Alice was trying to prepare her to accept the concept of
giving her favors to genflemen, and she would become quiet, and sulk for a
while, but then Alice would dazzle her with some small kindness that didn't
seem to require any return, and Queen would laugh, and be happy again.
The truth was simpler than Queen's occasional imaginings. Alice needed
Queen's friendship almost as much as Queen needed hers. The attentions of
men came easily to her, for she was a lovely woman, but she was brutally
aware of the price they expected her to pay. Despite her circumspection,
and her careful cultivation of a respectable image, and despite her devoted
hours of charitable work for the church, mild rumors about her virtue were
whispered through the town, and no woman of any standing would befriend
her. Added to this, she was living a very dangerous lie. She passed for
white without question or demur, but if one hint of her true blood was gen-
erally known, she could easily have been run out of town, or worse. More
sophisticated than Queen, Alice had watched the
596 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
Southern whites close ranks upon themselves, vigorously and sometimes
violently excluding anyone who had even the tiniest drop of black blood or
was rumored to have it. Alice cleverly deflected all questions about her
past, and developed a vague and tragic story of parents lost in the war if
anyone persisted in asking. Which few people did. Some of her wiser
gentlemen friends had suspicions of her secret, but kept quiet about it so
that they might continue to enjoy her company. Wanted by men only for what
they could get from her and tactfully shunned by women, Alice was lonely.
Like calls to like, and when Alice had seen the mirror image of herself in
Queen, her need for a friend overcame her usual caution. There was only a
small element of risk, for Queen could pass for white at least as well as
Alice, and was an eager student, willing to learn the intricacies of
behavior that their fragile position demanded. Alice had no desire to lead
Queen astray, no designs for some career of immorality for Queen, and no
expectation of Queen other than the return of friendship, and in this Alice
was amply rewarded. Like sisters separated at birth who had suddenly found
each other again, they had similar tastes and ambitions; yet as much as
they were alike, they were also different, but these differences comple-
mented each other. Or perhaps loneliness made them blind to how different
they really were. Alice was teacher, Queen her pupil. Alice was
sophisticated and Queen naive, yet Queen longed to be worldly-wise, and
Alice was desperate to know less. Each wanted to be loved and settled in
some stable domestic situation, and if Queen was more optimistic about the
immediate prospect of this, her simple faith blunted Alice's cynicism. They
were united in their determination to live as white, and if Queen was less
acutely aware of the dangers of being thought black, it was only by degree.
Alice listened soberly to the story of Queen's life, and smiled at her
blind adoration of her Jass. Alice had never known her own pappy, and
needed a father figure sorely, and while she distrusted men, she
sympathized with Queen's irrational faith.
It amused Alice, who had grown up among paints and powders, that Queen
didn't even know how to put makeup on, and they spent a delightful evening
subtly coloring Queen's face.
QUEEN 597
When Queen looked at the results in the mirror, she gasped at her own
&n
bsp; beauty. It intrigued Alice that Queen had no clothes, and she ransacked
her wardrobe for gowns that her friend might wear. It enchanted Alice that
Queen had never been to a dance, except to watch and serve as a slave, and
she wondered how Queen would respond to an evening of simple, uncluttered
fun. And it would be an excellent test of Queen's behavior in the midst
of the enemy.
Queen was triumphant. She looked lovely in a lilac gown of Alice's, her
hair in ringlets, and her face artfully painted. Alice, in blue, laughed
at Queen's nervous excitement. They walked into the church hall together
on a warm Saturday night, and were immediately cheered as the belles of
the ball. Some might have thought the dance a little hick, but to Queen
it was a glamorous occasion. The tables and chairs had been cleared to the
side, the hall was decorated with lanterns, and a small band played good
music badly on the stage.
An older gentleman, George, her old friend, offered Alice his arm, and
when they swept away to dance, Queen panicked at being left alone. She
crept to her favorite comer, for this same hall was the soup kitchen at
other times, and watched the dancers dance, just as she used to watch
balls at The Forks, and swayed to the music, and prayed that someone
would ask her to dance and thought she would sink to the floor in em-
barrassment if anyone did. She saw a tall, moderately handsome man
staring at her and glanced away, but as immediately glanced back, and the
man winked at her. Queen blushed and looked to the floor, and saw a pair
of feet walking toward her. She looked up into the eyes of the moderately
handsome young man, who introduced himself as Morgan, and called her
gorgeous.
"Sir, I am a lady!" Queen gasped, because she couldn't think of anything
else to say.
Morgan grinned. "You're also the prettiest thing in the room," he
laughed, and offered his an-n. "Shall we?"
Queen saw Alice nodding encouragement to her, and took the plunge. She
accepted Morgan's arm, and they moved onto the dance floor. She could
hardly believe this was happening to her, when, not so very long ago, she
had been destitute.
598 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
Now she was happy, dancing in a pretty dress with a moderately handsome
young man. It was the stuff of dreams.
She was a good dancer and had been taught well, but excitement and
nervousness made her clumsy. Morgan winced in pain.
"You may be a lady, but you don't dance very well," he said, and Queen
was mortified. She began to apologize, but Morgan was blithe.
"It's all right," he said, laughing again. "I've got strong boots on. "
His laughter was infectious, and Queen relaxed and remembered her
lessons, and danced the night away, and even allowed Morgan to peck her
on the cheek when they said good night.
She danced round the room when she and Alice got home, and poured out her
delight at the evening. She couldn't remember when she'd had such a good
time, despite Morgan's wandering hands, which had added delightful spice
to the evening.
Alice was pleased. Queen had passed her first public test superbly, and
all her friends, especially George, had commented on Queen's beauty and
manners. Vibrant with youthful energy, they chatted till dawn about the
evening and about men, and then climbed into bed and drifted to sleep in
each other's arms, secure and happy.
Queen agreed to a date with Morgan and saw him a few times, but while he
was always laughing, his hands were always wandering, and one day, on the
riverbank, they wandered too far. Queen told him off, and wouldn't see him
again.
This came on top of a scolding from Alice, who was beginning to wonder
if her student was learning far too well. She had been with Queen earlier
that day, shopping, and a poor black had approached them, begging for
money. Queen had snapped at him not to bother her, and called him a
nigger. Alice was appalled, gave the man a few coins, and called Queen
a little minx. Only weeks ago, Queen had been in the same state as the
beggar; now she was all airs and graces, putting labels on herself.
"You'd better be careful," Alice said, "because pride usually comes
before a very nasty fall."
QUEEN 599
Queen flushed, and pouted, but realized she was in the wrong and
apologized. Her afternoon with Morgan, however, did nothing to improve
her humor. Looking forward to sharing her misery with Alice, she came
home to a cold supper waiting on the table, and a note saying that her
friend would be out for the evening until late. Queen guessed that Alice
was seeing George or one of her other admirers, and, upset by Morgan and
this first real evidence of Alice's immorality, she sulked for the
evening. She climbed into bed early, and lay waiting for Alice to come
home.
Alice had a fine evening. While she was fond of Queen, she had a deep
need for the company of older men and the security they represented to
her. She had curtailed many of her activities since Queen's arrival, but
now it was reassuring to be in George's company, to be dined and wined
in a private room at a small hotel, and to be made love to by a man of
some experience. And she had some very good news.
When she came home soon after midnight, Queen was waiting for her, tucked
up in bed with the sheet pulled securely under her chin.
Queen's eyes darted with anger. "Where you been?" she demanded. Alice was
not surprised at her reaction. She knew that Queen had become dependent
on her, perhaps overly so, and she was relieved that, if Queen behaved
properly, that dependence would soon be reduced.
"Out," she said, taking off her bonnet and checking her hair in the
mirror.
"You sleep with George?" Queen demanded again, and Alice shrugged.
"You're nothing but a whore, despite your fancy words," Queen snapped,
and Alice snapped back.
"How I survive is my business, Queen," she said. "Don't call me names."
"It bothers me," Queen replied, burying her face in the pillow. Alice
came and sat on the edge of the bed.
"That's a pity, because George is a very nice man, and very rich," she
told Queen, enjoying the news that she had. "And he has a job for you,
if you want it."
Queen looked at her in horror. "I won't do that sort of work!
600 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
"You won't work in a flower shop?" Alice murmured, a smile dancing at the
corners of her mouth.
The effect was all she could have desired. Queen stared at Alice, whose
smile had broadened into a grin. Suddenly, Queen squealed in delight, and
grabbed Alice. The two of them rolled on the bed together, laughing and
making great plans.
It was just the job for Queen. Although few folk had much money to spare,
flowers were a cheap extravagance; a small bouquet did much to alleviate the
&nb
sp; stress of reduced circumstances, and those who did still have money were
conscious of the social niceties. The small shop was in a building George
owned, and was open only three days a week. On the other days, Queen would
ride around the country in a cart, gathering abundant summer wildflowers, or
buying garden blooms from people who were happy to get a few pennies for
what had cost them nothing to grow. On the days when the shop was open,
Queen would arrive early in the morning and fashion her harvest into pretty
bunches and bouquets, and she soon learned how to make simple wreaths for
the dead. Surrounded by nature's artless beauty, she blossomed herself, and
was popular with her customers. The fragrance of the flowers and the simple
constancy of their perennial renewal seemed to attach itself to her, and she
relaxed and lost the edginess that insecurity had developed in her. She
didn't even care anymore about Alice's occasional nocturnal expeditions, but
was tolerant of all her friend's foibles.
She looked after her customers well, and was sensitive to their requests,
often scouring the countryside to fulfill their special orders. And she
always made sure she had roses, for there was one customer, a tall, darkly
handsome man, immaculately dressed, who came by almost every day, and
always bought only a single rose. He had a slight limp in his right leg,
and walked with a cane. Intrigued by him, attracted to him, she once asked
him if the rose was for a special woman friend, and he turned to her with
sad, sorrowful eyes.
"it is for the grave of my poor dear mother," he said.
Queen's heart bounded. She expressed her sympathy, and the man went away
with his rose, while Queen fell into a
QUEEN 601
daydream. This melancholy man was her ideal of her prince. Every day she had
his rose ready for him, and every day he paid, thanked her, and left. He
never smiled, but sometimes he looked deep into her eyes, and made Queen's
legs turn to jelly.
On a hot June day he came into the shop, and Queen apologized for her
roses. He always bought white, but Queen had only red roses that day. He
looked at the lovely flower, and then into the distance. He paid for the
rose, but didn't leave.
"Is something wrong?" Queen asked, and now, for the first time since she
had known him, he smiled.
"No," he said. "But this one, I think, is for you."
He gave Queen the red rose; he took her hand and kissed it gently, then
left. Queen almost swooned with delight.
Within a week he had asked her to accompany him on an evening stroll by
the riverbank. Fireflies danced in the bushes beside the river, and the
lamplighter was lighting lanterns on the levee. He introduced himself as
Digby, and he was the complete Southern gentleman.
"From the first moment I saw you, surrounded by roses, I haven't been
able to get you out of my mind," he told her. "I trust you do not think
me forward, ma'am?"
Queen was trying to be the complete Southern gentlewoman.
"Why, no, sir," she said, remembering Miss Lizzie at her simpering best.
"I was most pleased when you asked me to accompany you this evening."
"You are not from these parts?" Digby asked her.
Queen hardly hesitated for a moment. The evening was flawless, and she
had learned well from Alice. Mystery, Alice had told her, intrigues a
man.
"No," she murmured. "My home is-far away-"
"And your family?" Digby persisted, but still Queen did not fret.
"A very old family, sir," she told him. "My pappy-" she cursed herself
inwardly at the slip, smiled at him as if she had let loose a pet name,
and corrected herself. "My papa was a colonel in the war. He lost an arm.
"
Digby smiled ruefully and tapped his leg with his cane,
"You fought in the war?" Queen asked him, to deflect attention from her
own background.
602 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
"It was my duty and my strong and passionate cause," Digby said softly.
"Your father is Colonel-T'