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