however willingly, reminded him too strongly of slavery,
He dressed to the height of his concept of fashion, in smart suits of
eccentric colors, and to the surprise of many who knew him only slightly,
Charles was deeply religious, and attended the same church as Queen. He
was smitten by her from the first moment he saw her, and lived in the
vain belief that one day she would come to her senses and realize what
he was offering her. In the meantime, he courted her with irrepressible
enthusiasm.
Joyce's encouragement of his hopes, and the fact that Queen was never
actually rude to him, sustained his hope, and he was constantly thinking
up new ways to convince her of his ardor.
Queen sat in the church the next Sunday, listening intently to the
Preacher's sermon, and she became aware that something
QUEEN 635
was being passed from hand to hand among the congregation. It was a note,
and it eventually came to her, with her name on the outside of it. Joyce
beamed at her, and Queen opened the note. It said: "May I call on you?"
The fact that it was unsigned didn't confuse her; she knew exactly who it
was from. She looked up, and saw Charles, a few rows away, grinning at
her. She threw her eyes to heaven and then glared at him, but that didn't
stop him from grinning.
She heard a knock on the front door the next afternoon, and was sure it
was Charles. As she moved down the hall, she could see the dark shape of
a man through the stained glass, and made up her mind that she was going
to end this business once and for all.
She opened the door angrily. "Charles!" she barked. "I told you-"
She knew it wasn't Charles the moment she saw him, even though he had his
back to her and was staring at the garden. He turned and looked at her
with brown velvet eyes.
Queen caught her breath. He was probably the most handsome man she had
ever seen.
"I'm sorry," she said, feeling foolish. "I thought you was someone else.
"
"I's looking for work," he said, taking off his hat. "An' yo' garden's
a terrible mess."
She didn't know what to say, and thought she must have stood silent for
several minutes, although it was only a second or two. She could hear the
clock ticking in the hall, and the sound of her own heartbeat.
She found her voice at last.
"Wait outside," she said. "I'll fetch the Missy."
He nodded slowly, but didn't take his eyes off her. She closed the door
and leaned against the wall for a moment, then recollected herself, and
went upstairs to call Miss Mandy, who was having a nap.
When she looked out of the window at the top of the stairs, the man was
already at work in the garden. He had found a scythe, and was cutting the
overgrown grass.
She forgot her errand, and stood watching him, until Miss Mandy came out
of her room, wanting to know who was at the door.
73
His name was Davis, and Miss Mandy hired him after only a small negotiation.
Told that a strange black man was working in the yard, Miss Mandy, who
dreamed of a formal garden, felt a small jolt of fear. But donned a
righteous wrath, went down to him, and demanded that he leave.
"Who told you to do that? Who gave you permission?" she asked him sharply.
Queen hovered behind her, at a safe distance.
Davis did not stop scything. He had an easy, swinging stroke, and already
he had cleared a large area.
"I took it on my own authority," he said. The sight of the vast black man
with a lethal weapon in his hands made Miss Mandy quail, but she stood her
ground.
"Get out of here at once," Miss Mandy ordered. "Before I call the law." It
was an empty threat. There was no guardian of the law within sight or
earshot. There were very few guardians of the law in this rambunctious
South.
Davis agreed that she had every right to do that, but her garden was a
mess, and he was looking for work. He rested on his scythe, and spoke
calmly to Miss Mandy.
" If you could see yo' way clear to employin' me, I'd work fo' you right
hard," he told her. "If not, or if you cain't afford me, I'll give you this
afternoon fo' free, coz I hates to see a garden so. "
He looked sadly at the wilderness that was the front lawn. "But if'n you
want, I'll leave," he added.
He had an extraordinary, quiet power about him. Miss Mandy, with little
evidence to hand, was sure she could trust him.
"You're very sure of yourself, young man," she said.
Davis smiled. "Cain't see a reason not to be." He stared at
636
QUEEN 637
Miss Mandy, and she blinked first. She accepted his offer of a free
afternoon's work, and if he was satisfactory, she would consider more
regular employment. Davis thanked her, touched his cap, and went back to
his scything. Miss Mandy watched his easy grace for a moment or two, and
then went back to the house.
"I will be watching you, young man," she called to him, as she went
inside.
"Yes, m'm," Davis replied, and looked at Queen.
Queen was astonished by him. He had handled the situation with charm and
grace, and had got himself a job. And when he looked at her, she, like
Miss Mandy, thought she could trust him with her life. It was too
disturbing to her, and so she tried to put him in his place.
"Them roses need pruning," she ordered, pointing to the untidy, rambling
rosebushes.
Davis looked at the roses. "Yes, they do," he agreed. "But not now. Wrong
time of year."
He looked at her again, and she was sure he was laughing
at her. Smil - ing at her, anyway, and there was something else
in that smile, something provocatively unsettling. Queen scut
tled back to the house, bristling with indignation,
He worked hard and well all afternoon, to an unseen audience. Miss Gippy,
who had learned to fear black men from her few female acquaintances at
their church, peered out at him from the comparative safety of her
bedroom window, and prayed that she would not be raped. Miss Mandy
watched from the sitting room, and it delighted her to see the dramatic
improvement to her garden that happened before her very eyes. He raked
and hoed and cleared, and what had been chaos became order, and visions
of an English garden, of formal lawns, colorful borders, and sweet
smelling roses, encouraged Miss Mandy to employ him on a weekly basis.
She went out to him, to tell him so.
Queen watched from the kitchen window as Miss Mandy talked to Davis, and
tried to work out what made him so attractive. It was not that he was so
very handsome, she decided now; her first impression had been wrong, his
features were a little irregular. He was black, black as ebony, had a
superb body, she could see, for he had taken his shirt off and was
638 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
 
; working in his vest, but the sheer magnitude of him was, in itself,
daunting. Yet somehow the complete man added up to more than the sum of his
separate physical parts, and it was his eyes, Queen thought. Those dark,
magic, melting eyes, like liquid amber. No, it was his voice, deep and warm,
like molasses. Or perhaps it was his personality. When he looked at her, she
felt he was exposing his soul to her, while still keeping some private
anguish hidden. His embracing personality, gently commanding and totally
reassuring, made her want to tell him the secrets of her heart, as if he
would absorb her sorrows into his own.
"The devil finds work for idle hands, Queen!" Miss Mandy had come into the
kitchen. Queen had not heard her, and was startled by her voice. She shook
herself from her reverie, and felt stupid. How long had she been staring at
Davis? And why? He was only a gardener. She also felt a little guilty.
11 Sorry, Missy," she murmured, and hurried to the sink. Miss Mandy guessed
the secret, for she was party to it herself. She would never admit it
because it was dangerous, disturbing; she was too old, she had no camal
needs, and desire for a black man was unthinkable. But it was there, like
a little imp, nibblirfg at her conscience. Davis thrilled her, and she
thought of him in the basest terms, as a magnificent, untamed animal.
"Why don't you take some lemonade out to that man in the garden?" she
suggested to Queen. "He's a good worker, and it's a hot day."
Queen nodded, and busied herself with lemonade. Miss Mandy stared out at
Davis.
"He seems to be a fine young man," she said. "Does he know he has a friend
in Jesus?"
For suddenly she had a new cause. She would bring this lion of the jungle
to the rocky, redeeming slopes of Calvary, and prayed that some other
missionary had not reached his soul first.
He was fixing some trellis when Queen brought the lemonade to him. Queen set
the tray on a box, and poured a glass of lemonade from the jug.
"You can have a break," she said, and to persuade him, she added her
authority. "Miss Mandy said."
QUEEN 639
He didn't respond, but worked on. Queen was a little miffed that her
gracious order was ignored, but her speech lapsed from its formal vowels,
and adopted some of his less cultivated pattern.
"You doin' a good job," she said. "Miss Mandy said."
Still, he ignored her. What was the matter with the man? Queen wondered,
temper rising a little. He didn't even look at her, and men usually
looked at her in considerable appreciation, even if she ignored them.
"I c'n give you dinner in the kitchen when you, done, afore you go home,"
she said. "Miss Mandy said--
His work on the trellis done, he turned to her. He liked to finish one
job before starting another.
"Better do what she says, then." He smiled, and her heart went pit-a-pat.
She would make him a lovely dinner.
'Me meat was as frustrating as anything she could remember. He washed up
in the laundry, and took off his muddy boots before he came into the
kitchen. He sat at the table, acce pted the food she gave him, and was
impeccably polite. Queen had prepared a fine dinner; she even saved the
knuckle of the roast leg of lamb for him, because she remembered it had
been her father's favorite. She piled his plate with potatoes, pumpkin,
and cabbage, and he ate everything she put in front of him, but in
silence. Queen did her best to make conversation, but he responded to her
with polite and noncommittal monosyllables. He had three pieces of her
good apple pie, and when he was done, he stood and thanked her.
"That was a fine dinner, ma'am," he said. "I thanks you kindly."
He walked to the door, but Queen could not let him go.
"You know-" she began, but stopped because she couldn't think of anything
to say.
He turned and looked at her with those velvet eyes, and she found her
only possible lifeline.
--you have a friend in Jesus," she said.
He considered this and nodded, but absently, as if he could not imagine
that he had any friends. Then said he would see her tomorrow, and left.
She came to the door and watched him put on his boots and walk away down
the path, into the night.
She walked out into the garden. The sky was clear, the stars
640 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
were bright, and the silver moon illuminated the work he had done that day.
She went back inside, washed the dishes, prepared the trays for breakfast,
and went upstairs to her attic room.
She went to sleep and had sweet dreams that night. She was on a hill
looking toward a distant city, and she could see Jesus triumphantly
approaching Jerusalem. He was wearing white robes, riding on a donkey, and
was surrounded by waved palm fronds. She walked to the city, but He never
seemed to come any closer to it, and soon she was close to Him. When He
turned to look at her, His face was full of quiet pain. And black, like
Davis.
74
The pattern was quickly set. He came to work each day, and his hard labor
and the bursting spring brought tranquility and a sense of renewal to what
had been disorder. Miss Mandy, desperate.to find some justification for a
fruitless life, saw it as a metaphor for the South, her own small
contribution to reconstruction, and infinitely more successful than that di-
rected by the Federal government. Good Christian example and discipline was
what these blacks needed. Queen and Davis were the living proof of that, not
the flagrant and unjustified equality that Washington was trying to inflict
upon them.
Queen and Davis. She began to think of them as an inseparable pair, and she
cherished the idea of a possible union for them, a good and happy marriage,
with herself as instructing governess of their delightful children. She was
sure her ambition was shared by Queen, for the girl positively blossomed
whenever Davis was around, and was scratchy and unpredictable on his day
off. When he came back to work, his boundless composure calmed her
irritability, and she, in turn, was the only one who could make him smile.
Davis built a pleasant arbor for the sisters, sheltered from
QUEEN 641
the sun, and planted climbing roses. The sisters sat there for hours on
the warm days, reading their Bibles, or doing their embroidery, or simply
watching the lovely garden grow. Occasionally, Miss Mandy would find
reasons to speak to him, first about plants and then about the love of
God, and he would listen to all she had to say solemnly, and nod his head,
and tell it was much to think about. She was content with this. She was
in no hurry to speed his conversion, for then what would she have to do?
During the day, he never came to the house, but Queen would bring him
cool lemonade, and sit with him for a while, and admire his handiwork,
Each evening he too
k his dinner with her in the kitchen, and appreciated
her good cooking. She would chatter to him endlessly about her day, and
he would laugh or sympathize or offer a few words of advice as the
occasion demanded, but he would never talk about himself. He always
seemed a little distracted, as if he were cogitating matters of important
and insoluble moment, and sometimes Queen was embarrassed that her gossip
was distracting him from his unknown purpose. He seemed to understand
this, and would smile at her, and compliment her on her pie, and she
would serve him another generous helping.
She didn't know where he came from or where he lived, or what his
intentions in life were, nor did she care. She was still wary of a
relationship, but the fact that this man to whom she was so attracted
never did anything to disturb her peace of mind was like a balm to her
hurtful experiences with other men.
As the weather grew hotter, she convinced herself that his appetite for
the lemonade increased, and her visits to the garden became more
frequent.
She came to him one hot day when he was working on the roof of the garden
shed, to fix the leaks. He was stripped to the waist, and when he climbed
down and turned away from her to get his shirt, she saw that his back was
a mass of scars. She gasped, although she knew the cause of them.
"Who did that to you?" she cried. He shrugged, and put on his shirt.
"Massa," he said simply. "In the old days."
642 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
He accepted the cool drink, and changed the subject to roses.
That night at dinner, she tried to get him to talk about his bondage.
"Why they whip you that bad?" she asked.
He shrugged again. "Ran away," he said, without trace of bitterness.
"Caught me. Whipped me. Ran away again. Same thing. "
Queen had never been whipped, but had seen it often enough. She closed her
eyes, to block out the image of the lash striking Davis.
"How many times?" she whispered.
"Often as I could," he said calmly. "I didn't want to be a slave, I never
asked, wasn't my idea of my life. Jus' coz they white, how come they had
that power?"
Queen had no answer, but put her faith in the future.
"That's all over now," she said, to comfort him, but Davis stared at her as
if he didn't believe her.
"Mebbe," he said. He paused for a moment, but she could see he had
something more to say.
"Ain't changed much. I's free, but I cain't seem to find my place in life,"
It's here, right here, you've found it, Queen wanted to tell him, but she
said nothing. He seemed to be battling with some inner demon, and suddenly
words flooded out of him as if a dam had burst.
"Ain't gwine find it in the South, I reckon," he said. "Slavery's gone, but
white folk still think like the of' days. I don't want to dig gardens all
my life. I don't want to be treated like a jungle nigger. I don't want to
live in a place where I ain't ever gwine be given the chance to better
myself, free or not free. I don't want to beg for change from the white
man's pocket. "
He spoke quietly, but his voice thundered in Queen's ears, and his magnetic
personality filled the room. At that mom6nt she would have followed him to
the ends of the earth.
He relaxed then, and seemed embarrassed by how much of himself he had
revealed. He smiled, and shrugged again. "North, mebbe," he said as a coda.
"They reckon a man can find his self up there.'.'
QUEEN 643
He stood up, thanked her for his dinner as he always did, and left. Queen
sat on a chair, her hand shaking a little. The power and intensity of his
speech, and the loneliness and anger that provoked it, had frightened her
a little, for she remembered herself, when she had been in her times of
greatest distress, which were not so very long ago.
He didn't refer to the conversation when he saw her again, and resisted
her mild questioning of his eventual aims in life. But he surprised her
a few days later when he asked her if he might accompany her to church