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Authors: Kyle Onstott

Drum (62 page)

BOOK: Drum
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"Sho' likes to try, Masta Maxwell, suh." Big Pearl was appraising Drumson. "He pretty boy and he shore looks like Mede but 'pears like he mighty li'l. Not even so big like that Trooper boy you guv me las' time."

Hanunond grinned back at her and slapped her heartily on the rump.

"You goin' to get a big surprise. Big Pearl. Done fingered this boy 'fore I bought him. Promise you he's jes' as big as Mede—mayhap bigger. Said to myself when I bought him—^this boy jes' right fer Big Pearl."

"When he goin' ter git started, Masta Hammond, suh?"

"When you wants him."

"Wants him right now. Lucy she kin run ovah to de spinnin' house. 01' Mista Wilson, he go out play somewheres. Kin he come in now? Kin he, Masta Maxwell, suh?" Big Pearl was eyeing Drumson more favorably now.

Hammond looked at Drumson speculatively.

"Don' know if'n he kin do it now. Big Pearl. He been a-workin' pretty hard on that Elvira wench. Ain' 'complished nothin' yet with her. P'haps better wait and let him rest up a week or so 'fore he tackles you. He got plenty o' sap in him but don' think he gotten 'nough fer you and Elvira too. What you think, Drumson? Think you kin tackle both?"

" Think s I kin, Masta Hammond, suh. Shore thinks I kin. Elvira she got news fer you. She thinks she knocked up. She talk wid Clytie yestiday momin', Masta Hammond, suh, and Qytie tell her she shore think so. Was a-waitin' to tell you when she shore, 'n that Balsam wench, she think she's a-knocked too. Brute he's a-braggin' that she is and says he's goin' to get that silver dollar fust." His eyes wandered to the enormous breasts that showed under the thin fabric of Big Pearl's dress. "Shore like to try this Big Pearl, Masta Hammond, suh. She a-comin' over to the new house to stay?"

"Hell no! Cain't have no gyrascutiis like Big Pearl a-stalkin' tiirough the new house, knockin' down all the furniture. Elvira stay there till Miz 'Gusta get back and we see 'bout gettin' two new girls. Now on, you comes over here every afternoon when you finished yo' work in the new house. First you takes on Big Pearl and then you learns or Mista Wilson to fight, if'n you able to move a finger after Big Pearl get through with you. You craves startin' now?"

Drumson was as anxious to begin as Big Pearl was. The anticipation of being enveloped in that voluminous flesh aroused him. The effect was patently visible and he was embarrassed in front of Hammond.

"If'n she wan's, Masta Hammond, suh."

Big Pearl's eyes had not deceived her. She lost no time in replying. "Shore does, shore does! You come in here, boy. Lucy, go fin' somepin' to do. Mista Wilson, you go play. Thank'ee Masta Maxwell, suh, thank'ee." She gently nudged Lucy out of the door, gave Ol' Mista Wilson a well-placed kick in the rump which started him running, grabbed Drumson by one hand and pulled him inside and closed the door.

The inside of the cabin, notwithstanding its crazy sideways cant, was immaculately clean. Light filtered in through the cracks in the logs—^bright streaks of sunlight with golden motes floating in them. One side of the room was occupied by an enormous bed with thick round wooden posts to support it and covered by a red and white patchwork quilt. Opposite it was the fireplace, a yawning black void, above which, on a narrow ledge, was one of the most unusual sights Drumson had ever seen. It was a curious decoration of a grinning white human skull, surrounded by radiating, curved rib-bones and two enormous femurs.

"Tha's Mede," Big Pearl noticed Drumson's fascinated gaze.

"Mede, Mede, Mede!" Drumson walked over to the fireplace and touched the bones gingerly. "Tha's all I hear. Ev'y one a-talkin' 'bout that Mede. Masta Hammond say he bought me 'cause I looks like Mede. I look like Mede, Big Pearl?"

"You shore do, Drumson, but you don' 'pear so big as Mede. He taller'n you. He bigger'n ev'y way. But you purty as he and he the purtiest boy I ever saw. Tha's all we got of po' Mede now—them bones—'ceptin' 01' Masta Wilson

which I birthed. Mede his pappy, he was." She pulled impatiently at Drumson's sleeve. "How come we talkin' 'bout Mede? Tha's long 'go. Mede all fergotten now."

Drumson shivered as his fingers stroked the white bones once again. Strange things had happened here at Falcon-hurst and he was apprehensive. For the first time he wished he were back in the sunny courtyard of Madame Alix' house with his mother and Uncle Blaise. Even his love for Hammond seemed insecure for he knew that Hammond had loved Mede and yet look what he had done to him. He felt Big Pearl's fingers pulling at his string tie. It came loose and fell to the floor. Her big fingers—strangely gentle now—clumsily undid the buttons of his shirt. She reached down and slipped off his shoes and with an abandoned gesture swept back the coverlet of the bed.

"Ain' no use in messin' it up," she said, looking at him, under narrowed hds as she piilled the shapeless osnaburg dress off over her head. "How long you a-goin' to stan' there wid yore pants on?"

Dnmison's trousers slipped to the floor in a rumpled pile alongside his white shirt. He felt strong arms tugging at him as he half stumbled, half fell on the bed. No longer was he a man—an aggressor. He was devoiu"ed, consumed, swallowed and shattered. He was lifted to insurmoimtable heights and plunged to implumbed depths. Breathless, he struggled to survive the onslaught of flesh which ravaged him, until he fell shattered in a sunburst of explosions that left him spent and exhausted.

Big Pearl heaved herself up from the bed and walked across the floor to fill a gourd dipper with water from a bucket. She brought it back to him, lifted his head in the crook of her arm and held the dipper to his lips. He drank greedily and she released him.

"You shore are like Mede." She lowered his head. "Never knowed 'nother boy could do it like Mede. Le's do it 'gaini now."

"Cain't Big Pearl."

"That Mede he could."

"Mede better'n me, I guess." Drumson reached for his; clothes and put them on slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed and finding it an effort to lift his arms.

"But you be back tomorrer. Masta Hammond say you: mus' come back ev'y day to pleasure me 'til you gits me in foal. You gotta learn 01' Mista Wilson how to fight too."

"I'll leam O' Mista Wilson first. Never be able to leam him after I gits through with you."

Drumson opened the door and stepped outside in the blinding sunlight. Hammond had led his horse away and he had to walk back to the new house. His legs felt weak as water but he had a strange floating sensation that was infinitely pleasant. 01' Mista Wilson had moved a few feet away from the doorstep and was now sitting on an upturned washtub, still winding and rewinding the string around his finger. His vacant face had become animated. He looked up at Drumson and grinned.

"Peeked through the crack I did. You better at pesterin' my mama than that Trooper. He not much good."

Drumson cuffed him, not ungently.

"You goin' to leam me how to fight?" 01' Mista Wilson doubled up his fist and presented it to Drumson.

"Shore am."

"You teaches me ter pester de wenches, too?"

"Won' need to teach you that," Drumson answered. "When the time comes you knows how."

He walked down the road between the cabins, conscious of the admiring glances of the wenches as he passed. Already the plantation grapevine had carried the news that he had been with Big Pearl. But Drumson had eyes for none of them. He even dreaded going back to the big house and meeting Elvira. For once the thought of Regine failed to arouse him. More than anything else he wanted to crawl up the kitchen stairs, fall on his bed and pull the covers up over his head. It would be good to sleep and replenish his drained body.

His hand reached up under his shirt and he felt the little silver box. All his fear and insecurity had left him. I Madame was right—the Uttle silver box had brought him good luck. He stopped at the burying ground and regarded the marble slabs. Mede might be dead, but he, Drumson, certainly wasn't.

chapter xi

Hammond Maxwell rarely displayed his feelings, but Drur son could see how elated he was the day Augusta and Regine« returned. With Augusta and Regine back, he actually/ beamed. He had met them on the road to Benson, and 1 had ridden back alongside the barouche, quite forgetting his > errand in town at his joy in seeing them again. When they / neared the driveway that turned off to the new house, he j had galloped ahead to alert the servants to their arrival, with the result that when the carriage drew up at the door, Drumson, Brutus, Elvira, Balsam, Clytie and even Jupe and I Jackson were all lined up on the front steps awaiting them. . Hammond was most gallant—bowing and smiling and handing Augusta down from the carriage with a flourish, even i taking her arm as he escorted her up the steps, but he ; paid no attention to Regine. Drumson was holding the big ; front door open when he heard his master say, "It's shore j good to have you back again, Miz Augusta. Missed youj here at Falconhurst, we have. Ain' seemed like home 'thout t you."

"And it's good to be back again, Mr. Maxwell." Augusta 4 answered his welcoming smUe with one of her own. j

Followed then a frantic scurrying about the house by alii' the servants—a hurried puUing up of shades and opening* of shutters with a whisking off of sheets and covers. The-^ new house emerged from its sepulchral gloom to take on a lived-in radiance once again. Augusta was the catalyst which had brought it all to life. J

The bell in the pantry jingled merrily and Drumson *i' looked upon the numbered board to find that the summons came from Augusta's room. He took the polished stairs twoi at a time, anxious to have a word with her alone and put into words his own joy at having her back again. Although he knew it was impossible, he wished she would take him in her arms as he remembered Calinda doing when he wasi

a small boy. Actually, when he entered the room, Augusta did come over to him and pat his cheek, which was almost as good.

"Have you been a good boy, Drumson?" she asked. "Have you behaved yourself while I was away?"

"Yes'm, Miz 'Gusta, ma'am, bin good 'n ain' bin whupped since you gone."

"I should hope not, Drumson."

"Ain' never going to get whupped 'gain, Miz 'Gusta mam, but didn' hurt me much," he boasted. Now that the whipping was over he rather treasured its memory.

Augusta sighed, then lifted her head and smiled as though she were talking with a small child and wished to dismiss the subject.

"Well, I am home and now things will go on as before. I Vkdsh you would tell all the servants to come here—all except Regine, Children always expect presents you know and, after all, you are my children. Now go, and bring them all back with you, even Ajax and Merc and Jupe."

Drumson lost no time in rounding them up and they filed up to Augusta's room. Hammond, hearing the noise, came in and stood behind Augusta.

She opened the Ud of the trunk to disclose a number of parcels, all wrapped in paper and each labeled with a tag which she read before she picked up the parcel.

"We'll start with Jackson," she said, "because he's the youngest." The parcel which she handed to him was heavy and bulky.

He accepted with open hands and stood holding it, looking dumbly at Augusta. A present was something which he was quite unable to comprehend. He was even a Uttle fearful of the package and completely at a loss what to do with it.

"Well, open it!" Augusta waited impatiently.

Slowly, and with eyes on her rather than on the package, Jackson carefully imknotted the length of red string and puUed off the paper, taking care not to tear it. The present emerged from the wrappings—a mechanical bank. Truly it was a most wonderful metal contraption which showed two brightly painted Negro boys, one of whom had an inordinately wide mouth. Jackson regarded it, reveling in the bright colors but not knowing what it was for except that it was wonderful to look at.

"It's a bank," Augusta explained. "A place to keep money."

"Ain' got no money, Miz 'Gusta." Jackson had little idea of what money meant except that he had seen coins.

"Well, you shall have from now on. Every week, if you are a good boy, I shall give you a penny. Here's the first one. Now bring yom: bank over here and let's put it on the table."

Jackson was loath to let it out of his hands but, with eyes staring wide, he carried it over and gingeriy placed it on the table. His hands lingered on it as he watched Augusta open the chatelaine purse which hung at her belt and take out a penny. She inserted this in the hand of one of the gaily painted Negroes.

"Now watch carefully, all of you."

She pressed a button somewhere in the bottom of the contraption and the mechanical Negro's arm drew back, then whipped forward, releasing the penny which was fired straight to the other figure's mouth, and disappeared. There was a long drawn "oh" of wonderment from all, even Hammond.

"How that thing work?" he questioned, pulling a penny from his own pocket. He inserted it just as Augusta had done and she showed him where to press the button. With unerring aim, the arm drew back, fired the penny and landed it in the open mouth. Hammond was so intrigued that he fished out all the change in his pocket and one by one he fired the coins into the open mouth.

"No more," he said as he relinquished it to Jackson. "You got all of fifty cents in there now."

The boy reached for it and his eyes filled with tears.

"Thank your mistress," Hammond prompted him.

"Grateful, Miz 'Gusta, mighty grateful," Jackson mumbled, holding the bank tightly with one hand and wiping the tears from his eyes with another. He had not yet fully comprehended the marvel that he held but he did know that this was by far the most wonderful thing that had ever happened in his whole life.

Starting now with Drumson, Augusta handed out the other packages. Opening each was a surprise and a miracle. It; gave each one of them a possession of his or her own. Drumson received a ruffled white shirt with an elaborate cravat of glossy black satin that wovmd around his throat and tied in a bow in front.

'To wear when we have special guests for dinner," Au-

gusta explained, "and the first time you wear it, I'll show you how to tie it."

BOOK: Drum
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