Dominion (34 page)

He sent word over to the carpenter to come make a box for the body and instructed one of the overseers to dig a grave in the far valley, which was their graveyard at Stonehouses.

So its ranks swelled, from two who were very old—and one very old for its kind—to three, and their average age fell considerably.

Everyone was pained to witness such misfortune befall a couple so young, but Magnus, in his grief, thought it to be more than just bad luck. “Somebody cursed us,” he said, speaking roughly. “I seen it among the slaves in Virginia. Somebody is trying to punish Stonehouses.”

In his mind no one was above suspicion, and he soon began to sow his dark fears all around, so that everyone began to regard the others nearby with distrust. Each listed the possible culprits in his head, and, though no one had real grievance, any could have been envious of them at Stonehouses.

Understanding he would never sort out one person, but that ultimately nothing less than their future safety depended on acting swiftly, Magnus did something very rash immediately after the funeral.

On the other side of the valley was a slave called Sam Day—who was married to Effie, a free woman who worked as a maid in the barns of Stonehouses—and who was rumored to be very powerful with roots and the like. He served not only the other slaves but, through intermediaries, much of the free population as well—either when something happened that the doctor could not cure or when they were taken with superstition because of something no one could explain and turned to him. When the child died, although it was not uncommon for such to happen, it was him Magnus sent for in his grief.

When Sam heard from Magnus's messenger what had happened at Stonehouses, he sent word back, first with questions and finally with the prognosis that the new house had not been properly blessed when they built it. It was easy enough to remedy, he said, but the ritual must be performed by him in person.

“Well, where is he?” Magnus asked the boy he had sent on the errand.

“They don't allow him to leave his master's place,” the boy answered.

Desperate, Magnus resolved to find a solution. The next day he left Stonehouses early in the morning, saying only that he had business beyond
its gates. Where he went then was to see Sam Day's master, a man named Michael Smith.

Smith, being Christian, detested Sam's practice of magic, and when Magnus showed up, saying he had come to see him about his slave Sam, Smith grew irritable just to hear the man's name.

“I would sell that troublemaker Sam Day for the next hundred pounds I saw,” he said.

“I just wanted to see if it was possible to hire him from you for the season.”

“Hire him? For what?” Smith asked. “You could find better workers among your womenfolk.”

“That may be so, but I'm short of hands this season, Mr. Smith, and they say he is a strong-bodied worker. Plus his woman is at Stonehouses, which I figured would make it an easy adjustment for him. I have ready cash.”

“If I hired him out to you, Magnus, I'd never know the end of it,” Smith said. “He would run, I swear to you he would. For a hundred pounds, though, I would sell him clean and free of any claims.”

A hundred pounds was a very good price for a man in his prime, and Magnus looked at Smith to see whether he was only talking idly. When he saw Smith meant what he said, Magnus made a counterproposal. Though it was never his intention to do so, the low price coupled with his own need overtook him and all his higher principles almost before he knew it. “I can give you seventy for him,” he said, although he knew it was less than any man was worth.

“A hundred is my price,” Smith repeated. “You say you need a man and have ready cash. You'll never get a better price than that on a slave good as Sam.”

“It seems like he causes you a lot of trouble, Mr. Smith. You should just let me take him off your hands,” reasoned Magnus, who had grown expert at bartering in the marketplace each year. When Smith moved down ten, he offered to close the deal. “Since we're only that far apart let's just split the difference.”

“It is done,” said Smith, though he did not shake. He only rang a bell and instructed the servant who appeared to go fetch Sam Day from out his indigo fields.

* * *

Sam had been taking a much-needed break from work, resting his head on a cool rock in a little gully that hid him from sight, when he heard footsteps approaching his resting place. He stood up and looked around to see Smith's boy from the house, calling his name.

“What you want with me?” Sam asked, taking up his work so it seemed he had never ceased. He was immediately tired out again, though, and took out his annoyance on the boy.

“Master Smith want you to come round right now,” the boy told him.

“Well, what he want with me, boy?” Sam asked with irritation. “You too thick to know that?”

“He sold you, Sam!” the boy cried. “He sending you away!”

“Boy, stop meddling with me and get from out of here,” Sam barked, raising one of his hands, which was permanent black from the indigo, to shoo the boy off. When the boy left, he went back to the spot where he had been resting and took back up his pillowstone.

No sooner had he laid down again than he heard one of the overseers call out his name.

“I'm coming right there, sir,” Sam answered, wondering for the first time whether what the boy had said was true.

He was on the verge of panic as he approached the overseer, fearing he might be at the start of a trip to another unknown place, where no one knew him and he was only currency in a transaction that satisfied everyone except him.

“What you need, Mr. Paul?” he asked, looking at the overseer.

“It finally happened.” The man whistled. “He finally sold your arse, Sam. Go on up to the house now and meet your new master.” Never an admirer of Sam's, the other man showed just the hint of laughter at the edges of his mouth, like tiny shards of glass, as he turned and walked away.

The spores of panic in Sam's head continued to grow, as he began to wish for an alternate fate. “Can I go round and say my good-byes to everybody first?” he called after him. “He can't just lift me up like that and move me on.”

“Mr. Smith wants you at the house now,” Paul told him again. “Seems to me, if I had a master and he called, I wouldn't try to do nothing but go find out what he wanted.”

Sam cursed under his breath and glowered as he went up to the back door of the house and announced himself—not that his arrival could
have gone unnoticed. Throughout the plantation the news had spread, and eyes watched him from every corner of the land as he mounted the stairs.

Mr. Smith came around about ten minutes later with a tall Negro man, ten years or so older than Day. “Sam, I want you to meet your new owner, Magnus Merian.”

Sam looked at both men standing in front of him, as he comprehended what had transpired. “Oh, good goddamn Jesus why is y'all doing this to me again?” he asked aloud.

Smith hit Sam before he knew it, knocking him flat into the dirt. As he lay sprawled there, Sam knew better than to get up too fast. When he did rise, though, he heard Magnus Merian telling Master Smith, “Thank you, Mr. Smith, but I can manage my own men.” Sam allowed himself to think he might have lucked and found a better master when he heard that, until Magnus approached him.

“Get your ass up and apologize to Mr. Smith,” he said.

He could not believe what was happening and was no longer sure which of the two had actually clapped him. It was as if the entire world had reversed itself, until he could not tell the black man from the white one. It wasn't surprise at a black master, but that he was used to being deferred to by Negroes because of his powers, and never thought another one would make him bend his head without the use of force. When he looked at Magnus, though, who still had the long memory of slavery and how a certain type was handled in Virginia, he saw something fearful there and made haste to do as he had been commanded.

“I'm sorry, Smith,” Sam said, looking his old owner square in the face. He turned to Magnus and added, “I apologize to you too, Master Merian.”

Looking at Sam then, contrite and confused, Smith was half tempted to offer Magnus his money back. In the end, however, something told him Sam was putting him on somehow, and he was relieved to be rid of the worrisome slave. “It has been a pleasure conducting business with you, Magnus,” he said. “If there is ever anything I can help you with further, please do not hesitate to let me know.”

“Thank you,” Magnus answered. “I imagine everything will go just fine from here.”

Sam had, of course, heard about the Merians long before he left with Magnus that afternoon, but he had little idea of what they were truly
like or, more important, how they treated their men. He had never seen a Negro act with a white man as Magnus had with Smith, and he was uncertain and afraid he might do something to upset this new master and get clapped again, so when they left, he followed at a respectful distance until they reached the wagon.

“You climb in and ride back there,” Magnus said, motioning to the bed of the vehicle.

Sam pulled himself up into the wagon and waited for the chains to be secured around him, as they had been the first time he was sold. When Magnus continued on to the front of the wagon and took up the reins, Sam could not hold his tongue. “Master Merian, ain't you gone chain me?” he asked.

“I hadn't figured to,” Magnus replied. “You planning on running?”

“No,” Sam said, then added with a hesitant pride, “but I could.”

“As long as it stay at speculation, Sam, we'll be just fine,” Magnus answered.

Master and slave then began the journey back to Stonehouses.

As they drove through the hill country Magnus was fired by guilt. He wanted to tell Sam that he had not intended to come and tear him from his known life and meant even less to cause him harm. He only wanted to hire his services as an herbman, because his own house had been cursed. As he drove, though, he knew he had miscalculated and could no longer ask for the the man's help. He owned him now, and if he was going to keep Sam from running over him he would have to be absolute, which, in his position, meant not explaining more than the other needed to know.

“You will like it at Stonehouses,” Magnus said. “Of course, it is only a temporary situation for you.”

“What do you mean by temporary, Master Merian?” Sam asked, in fearful confusion.

“I mean that I intend to make you free after the season,” Magnus said, as he could not force the kind of work he needed from Sam or otherwise coerce the spirit.

“What happen to me after that?” Sam asked. “Where I'm supposed to go, Master Merian?”

Magnus had not reflected on it before, but he knew it would never do for him to set the likes of Sam Day free in Berkeley. The rest of the
town, black and white, would surely turn on him. “Well, we'll figure something out, Sam,” Magnus said, “soon as the harvest is over.”

Each man then was flax-hearted and silent, as they made their way through the country, each wondering what he had gotten into, and what would become of him.

Lord, what have I done?
Magnus thought to himself, knowing he had purchased another soul and now owned him and all his burden. There was, he knew, no way to alleviate the consequences of that.

What happen next?
Sam wondered as the wagon rolled through the unknown countryside, reminding him of his original trip there, the only time before he had been anywhere other than his natural home.

When they arrived back at Stonehouses, Magnus drove up next to the barn and stopped the wagon. “This is it,” he announced. “This is where you'll be staying.” For he still could not admit to himself it was the man's new home.

If Sam had been impressed by Magnus before he was even more so now, as he could see plainly his new master was wealthier than his old one.

“Where I'm supposed to sleep, Master Merian?” Sam asked, inspecting the barn, then looking deep into the country for the slave cabins.

“Down with the rest of the hired men,” Magnus said, calling for a boy to show Sam where that was. “I'll send for you later,” Magnus told him, as he himself turned to go into the house.

Inside, the first person he saw was Effie, whom he hurried past, making his way upstairs. He did something then that he had not done since his very first days at Stonehouses; he went into his bedroom and drew the curtains until it was dark and fell asleep during the middle of the day.

He woke up to find Adelia sitting next to him.

“Are you all right?” she wanted to know.

“Adelia, I bought a man today,” he told her, sitting up and looking her in the eyes.

“So I hear,” she answered, stroking his forehead. “What happened?”

“It was not on purpose. I will let him loose, just as soon as I figure out how to do it.”

“You'll figure out something,” Adelia said.

“Where is he now?” Magnus asked.

“I think Caleum put him to work already.”

Magnus was thankful at least to hear the younger man had done so sensible a thing. That evening at dinner he tried to conceal his own thoughts as he asked his nephew how the day had gone with the harvest. Caleum, sensing his uncle's true concern, replied that no other healthy body lazed about while the sun was up, so he saw no reason why Sam Day should be allowed to either. “Slave or no slave, he has to put in an honest day's work.”

It was impeccable logic, but Magnus knew he had done something gravely wrong, and they had not yet seen the end of suffering for that year.

“I'm going to turn that man free, just as soon as I lay a plan for what to do with him,” he said to his family. No one at the table objected to his words, though no one else thought it was quite so dire as he.