Page 82 of Queen

Miss Gippy, who was reading her Bible, looked up in surprise.

  QUEEN 677

  "And why is that?" Miss Mandy asked carefully.

  "Coz you tryin' to steal my baby from me," Queen snapped, believing her

  case to be impeccable, and delighted to be having her say at last.

  But the fear she had seen in Miss Mandy's eyes was replaced by something

  else, something more like relief.

  "Don't be ridiculous," Miss Mandy said.

  "I ain't ridiculous!" Queen answered. "I never gets to see him no more,

  he's always with you. You wash him, change him, play with him, take him

  out. You'd feed him if you could, only you's all dried up so you cain't!

  "

  And the relief was replaced by a flash of anger.

  "So we's leaving," Queen said again.

  "I can't imagine you'll find another job very easily." Miss Mandy seemed

  almost calm.

  "I don't need another job; friends is lookin' after me." Queen was

  defiant, but a little unsettled.

  "Joyce, no doubt," Miss Mandy guessed, and knew from the look on Queen's

  face that she was right,

  "If you leave our employ after all we have done for YOU,she said, "I

  shall go to the authorities and have you declared unfit to be a mother."

  Queen reddened. She was frightened of the authorities. It was the chink

  in her armor, for her earliest training was her downfall. As a slave,

  she'd seen that white Massas had all the authority they needed. She

  wasn't certain that anything had changed. "They wouldn't do that," she

  said,

  "Oh, yes, they would," Miss Mandy told her. "Look at it from their point

  of view. You would be walking out on a good, well-paid job, and taking

  your illegitimate son from a safe and secure home, where he is loved and

  provided for, to bring him up in shantytown. All because you have some

  silly idea that I am trying to steal him from you."

  Queen shifted uncertainty. It didn't sound so simple when it was put like

  that.

  "Because you stealin' him!" she insisted.

  Any charity that Miss Mandy had ever felt toward the black race seemed

  to disappear for a moment.

  "Why would I want to steal your nigger baby?" she asked, steel in her

  eyes. "I am white. Or had you forgotten?"

  678 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  Queen was horrified, believing what she was told. No white authority was

  going to listen to her side of the case, and all authority was white.

  "Now I suggest you go to your room, and forget all this silly nonsense

  about leaving," Miss Mandy said. She sat, and cooed at Abner. Queen moved

  forward to take the boy, but Miss Mandy held on to him.

  "Abner can stay with me for a while," she said.

  Queen was almost blind with impotent rage. All she could see was her

  darling son in the white woman's arms. She ran forward and grabbed Abner

  from her.

  "You give me my baby," she shrieked. "You cain't have him! I'll kill you

  first!"

  The vehemence of it shocked both sisters, and Miss Gippy hissed in

  disbelief.

  "Harlot. Jezebel," she murmured, but for the moment, Queen had won. She

  ran from the room, clutching Abner to her.

  She sat on the floor of her room rocking Abner in her arms, desperately

  calling to God for some answer to her distress. She'd lighted a little

  fire to keep them warm, and was staring at the flames of it, and the

  flames licked and danced in her mind, and reminded her of other awful

  fires, at other times, in other places.

  The door burst open, and Miss Mandy swept in, followed by Miss Gippy.

  They ignored Queen, and went to Abner's cot.

  "I haye decided to move Abner into my room," Miss Mandy told Queen. "Take

  that end, Gippy."

  The sisters moved to the cot, and Queen jumped to her feet.

  "You leave that be!" she cried.

  "I believe it is best for Abner," Miss Mandy said calmly. "You are a

  fallen woman and he can't stay with you. It puts his soul in danger."

  "Harlot. Jezebel," Miss Gippy hissed again. She had been deeply shocked

  by Queen's outburst downstairs, and any sympathy she had for Queen's

  plight had disappeared at that moment.

  Queen begged the sisters not to be so cruel, but Miss Mandy was adamant,

  and called her hysterical. If Queen did not con-

  QUEEN 679

  trol herself, Miss Mandy would call on the authorities first thing in the

  morning and tell them Queen was mentally unbalanced. She had a witness, Miss

  Gippy, who had heard Queen threaten to kill her.

  "The sixth commandment," Miss Gippy chimed in.

  It was true. At that moment, Queen was mentally unbalanced. And the flames

  of the fire, the flames of her torment, lighted some dark comer in her

  mind. The only way to escape fire was to run away from it. She calmed

  herself, and seemed to accept what Miss Mandy was telling her. But she

  asked to be allowed to have this last night with Abner. Faced with an

  apparently more rational Queen, Miss Mandy relented. The sisters left the

  room.

  Queen stared at the fire again. The flames glittered in her eyes, in her

  mind, frightening her but making her determined on survival. She would run

  away from the fire. She would run away from the sisters. She would take

  Abner with her to someplace where no one would ever find them, and they

  would be safe.

  There was nowhere in Huntsville. She couldn't go to Joyce, for the sisters

  would hear of it, and find her, and take Abner away from her. She couldn't

  even tell Joyce that she was going, for Joyce might try to talk her into

  staying.

  South, perhaps. Everyone expected nigras to go North, so maybe if Queen

  went South no one would find her. But exactly where. she would go was a

  decision for later. She had a little money in her purse, saved from her

  wages. They could go anywhere. The most important thing was to get away.

  She was sly as any vixen. She turned down her lamp, so that Miss Mandy

  might think she was asleep. She put Abner in his cot and lay on her bed,

  and waited until the distant clock struck two, and she was sure the sisters

  were asleep.

  She turned up her lamp a little so that she could just see. She put a few

  things for herself and Abner into a bag, and wrapped the boy in a blanket.

  Quietly as she could, she opened her door. The house was dark and silent.

  She walked carefully, Abner on one arm, her bag and her shoes in the other

  hand. She crept softly down the stairs into the hall. The front door was in

  front of her. They were only yards from freedom.

  680 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  A floor board creaked. Queen froze, but Abner stirred in her arms.

  "Hush now, chile," Queen whispered. "You love yo' mammy, you hush, you

  hear?"

  Miraculously, Abner heard his mammy, and hushed.

  When she was sure no one had awakened, Queen moved slowly to the front

  door. She turned the key in the lock with infinite patience, trying to

  avoid t
he merest squeak.

  She opened the door, stepped out into the night, and softly pulled the

  door shut again. She walked more quickly now, but still with caution,

  across the veranda, down the steps, and onto the lawn, avoiding the

  gravel path. Quicker again, across the lawn and to the front gate. She

  opened the gate, moved out of the property, and began to run.

  She ran in her stocking feet, as fast as she could, weighed down by her

  child and her case. At the end of the street her shoes fell to the

  ground, and she stopped for a moment to slip them on.

  Then she ran again, and ran and ran, until she was panting for breath,

  but she would not stop. Abner was awake now, and burbling happily at the

  unexpected adventure.

  As she ran, she whispered joyously to her boy.

  "We free!" she told him, in triumph. "We free!"

  But she kept on running, away, into the night.

  Free.

  79

  Although Queen went South, she wanted to avoid Decatur, and she took the

  easterly road and crossed the river at Guntersville. Anxious to conserve

  her small purse of money, she slept where she could, in barns and

  outhouses. Sometimes she asked at farms for shelter, and sometimes she was

  invited in and fed, or allowed to sleep in the milking shed and have good,

  fresh, creamy milk for Abner.

  QUEEN 681

  Abner, fat and healthy, throve on the wandering life. Now that his mother

  was his only constant friend, he came to depend on her, to need her, and

  to adore her. At last he gave her the return of love that she so sorely

  needed, and had come so close to losing to Miss Mandy.

  Poorly dressed but cheerfully optimistic, she encountered occasional

  hostility from whites, but nothing she was not used to, simply a casual

  intolerance of free blacks, aud every small act of discrimination was

  repaid by another of some small courtesy.

  She was fascinated by the difference in attitude to her that she

  encountered. When she had been traveling by herself, she had been

  perceived as an unlikely white woman, trash or mulatta, and ignored by

  many whites, reviled by some blacks. Having Abner on her hip defined her.

  Clearly the mother of the darker-skinned child, she no longer looked

  definably white herself, and many took pity on her because of her baby.

  Farmers in carts on their way to market would stop for her, and give her

  a ride to their destination, or to their homes, where their wives would

  welcome her. She might even work for them for a few days, to repay their

  generosity, and was sometimes rewarded with a few pennies for her pocket,

  as well as her keep.

  The gossip that she heard intrigued her. She was told extraordinary

  stories of the black determination to take Washington at its

  reconstructing word, and grab for equality. She heard of strikes by city

  workers, or by field hands protesting their pay. She heard of riots and

  even small arrnbd rebellions against civic authorities who were reluctant

  to put the new Federal laws into effect. She heard one story of an

  overseer in Georgia being forced off his rice plantation by the hands,

  who would not work for him. Queen hardly believed the story, and laughed,

  because she could not imagine Henderson being forced off The Forks of

  Cypress by the slaves.

  She was offered friendly advice and told to avoid the larger cities,

  where segregation was rampant. Generally, she learned, the attitude of

  urban Southemers; toward the blacks was even less benevolent than before

  the war, although a few civic leaders had publicly devoted themselves to

  the black cause. Whenever anyone asked her where she was going, she

  became

  682 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  vague, and murmured something about finding her husband in the South.

  Often, when she was alone, she asked herself where she was going, and what

  she would do with her life, because she knew she couldn't roam forever.

  Her faith kept her going, and she had the absolute conviction that God was

  directing her footsteps, and would bring her, surely and safely, to her

  promised land. Abner was her dear companion, and his company assuaged her

  on those few lonely nights when even her spirit failed her, and she

  questioned herself, and her travels, and her life.

  It was her inconclusive story of her missing husband, told to a cheerful,

  militant ostler and his family, that gave her news of a man who might be

  Davis.

  There was a trade-union leader, she heard, a fine and passionate orator,

  who had some skill as a blacksmith, and who was dedicated to the cause

  of black equality. He -went around the country making passionate speeches

  about the rights of blacks, and had been in Gadsden, where she was now,

  and he had persuaded some restaurant workers to form a guild. He had

  moved on, but her hosts were not sure where. Georgia, they thought, to

  the low country. He had often talked of the appalling conditions on the

  plantations there.

  Queen hardly slept that night, her mind full of Davis. It all fitted in:

  He had learned smithy skills from Abram, and had forged his convictions

  about the circumstances of the newly freed blacks at the anvil. He had

  tried to talk Abram into forming a guild in Huntsville, and had the

  internal fire of a fine speaker. There was a chance that it was not

  Davis, but her need for some direction in her life, and her need for him,

  were so great that she could not allow herself to doubt. If he had found

  his mission in life, he would surely have room for her.

  At last she had a goal and a destination. She would go to Georgia, and

  find Davis.

  80

  The day was unbearably hot, stiflingly humid. The coach rattled and creaked

  over the rough road, the horses sweating, and the almost useless springs

  unable to ease the bonecrunching ride. Every stone or furrow made the coach

  jolt and jerk, jarring Queen's bones. Abner, in her arms, was fretful,

  crying constantly, and Queen prayed for the journey to be over. She was

  traveling on the box with Micah, the coachman, and with one hand she held on

  to the small rail, to stop herself from being thrown to the ground, and with

  the other clung to Abner.

  She yelled at Micah to slow down, but he only grinned a toothy grin, and

  lashed the horses. Queen began to wonder if he was driving her to hell. It

  was hot enough.

  Mrs. Benson, her Missy, was inside the coach with her husband and her baby

  boy, William, to whom Queen was nanny and wet nurse. The oppressive heat of

  the South Carolina low country caused Mrs. Benson as much distress as

  Queen. Although she rode in slightly greater comfort, the tight stays and

  heavy petticoats, the formal dress and elaborate bonnet that her position

  in society demanded, caused her to curse this inhospitable land, and she

  longed for the cooler mountains of Georgia, which were her home.

  She did not regret her decision to accompany
her husband, for he had

  important work to do, and she was a good wife. She believed in his cause,

  and always stood by his side. They had been on the road for several days,

  but at least the nightmare journey was nearly over. They would reach their

  destination by late afternoon, and perhaps the hotel would be halfway

  decent, and William would get a good night's sleep. The journey was making

  her infant son fractious, but he couldn't possibly be hungry, Queen had fed

  him when they

  683

  684 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  stopped for lunch only an hour ago. She gave a small prayer of thanks that

  Queen had been sent to her, and stared out at the depressing landscape.

  They were passing through flat farmland, edged by scrubby vegetation. The

  fields were untended, and empty of farm hands. The world seemed deserted,

  and Queen began to think they were traveling nowhere, endlessly moving,

  suspended in time.

  A small line of field hands appeared on the horizon, walking in the same

  direction. The coach lessened the distance between them, and Queen could

  hear the men singing lustily, a work song. As the coach passed by, the

  men cheered Micah and Queen, and called out for food, or money, but Micah

  did not slow down.

  Mr. Benson put down his newspaper and looked out at the men.

  "Scum," he said, almost to himself, and Mrs. Benson, distracted by the

  heat and William, nodded absentmindedly. She always agreed with her

  husband.

  "Where they goin'T' Queen asked Micah.

  "Beaufort. Same as us," Micah told her. "Dey on strike."

  Queen turned back to look at the men. She had never seen a striker

  before, black or white, but they looked no different from other men. She

  felt a thrill of excitement because she could equate the little she knew

  of strikes with the little she knew of Davis, and hoped that he might be

  one of the men. But he was not.

  "Why they strike?" she asked Micah again.

  "Money." Micah grinned his toothy grin. "Dey sick of workin' for pennies,

  to make dere Massa rich. Dey want better pay - "

  Micah spoke in a thick, old-time, slave dialect, which fooled many people

  into thinking he was ignorant. In fact, he was a knowledgeable man, and

  took a keen interest in the world. His position with the Bensons made him

  privy to a broad spectrum of news. He knew exactly why they were going

  to Beaufort.

  They were some distance ahead of the strikers now, and Queen craned her

  head back to see them.

  "I ain't never heard of it," she said, her voice taking on some of

  Micah's dialect, which was reassuring to her. "Black folk, on strike."

  QUEEN 685

  "I don't like it, Missy Queen." Micah grinned again. "Gwine be trouble."

  Queen could not imigine what trouble he meant, for she had no experience of

  trade unions and bosses, only slaves and Massas. All she wanted to do was

  find Davis.

  She had heard of him again, in a small town south of Atlanta, this

  charismatic union man who could fashion a horse's shoe as well as any

  blacksmith. She asked if anyone knew where he was, but heard only guesses

  that it might be the low country. Unions, she was told, were sorely needed

  in the low country; there had been trouble there since the end of the war.

  She kept traveling east, and everywhere she went she asked about him, but

  heard no more, but she did hear stories of constant racial trouble in the

  coastal rice-growing districts.

  A farmer had given her a lift into a country town near the Georgia border

  with South Carolina, and Queen sat in the pretty square for a while, not

  quite sure where to go next. It was the middle of the day, and she asked

  Abner if he was hungry, because she was. Abner, staring at a flock of crows

  in the trees, gurgled agreement. There was a general store across the road

  with a caf6 attached to it. Queen went to it, and looked for a back

  entrance, but could find none. She went inside,

  The store was large, but gloomy. The shelves were stocked with produce and