MY THEODOSIA (19 page)

She sighed. 'Well, you may go now.'

For a moment they did not move until Chance nudged them, and then she realized that not only had they failed to comprehend what she had read them, but that they did not understand her speech. The field hands talked pure Gullah. It was only with the house negroes that she could communicate at all.

Gradually, she gave up her efforts to manage the negroes. As her pregnancy advanced and increasing malaise and lethargy overpowered her, she could not feel the tolerance
for their shortcomings that was requisite to dealing with them. 'Just treat them as children,' Maria Nisbett admonished her impatiently, when she once ventured to discuss her troubles. Still one wearied of being surrounded by, and dependent on, children. Also children eventually improved under tutelage, outgrew pilfering and lying and laziness. But the negroes didn't, they were always the same, and she found them tiresome or worse, as in the case of Venus.

Theo had no idea that part of her difficulties in handling the slaves came from Venus's influence. The girl did her best to spread mutiny throughout the two hundred blacks who served the Alstons at the Oaks. She made little headway; the negroes only laughed at her, and their loyalty to Joseph, their hereditary ruler, was unshakable. Nor could she incite them against the overseer, who was a just man and understood their psychology. But the 'Yankee mistiss' was another matter. Was their allotment of groceries a trifle scant, or the temper of a new hoe not so keen as those dealt out last year? It was the foreign mistiss who had ordered it thus, said Venus. Old Fortune's rheumatism and Hagar's bloody flux, for which Theo had tried some Northern remedies, hadn't they got worse at once?

And she had laughed at conjuh, telling them it was foolish, hadn't she? said Venus, who secretly had no use for conjuh herself, but understood this most powerful of all arguments. That was because young miss didn't believe in anything. She was no better than a heathen. Night after night, said Venus, she had waited and peeked to see if young miss said her prayers. But she never did. She never even opened the Good Book and read. She went to church only when maussa made her. She was bad, was young miss.

All this made less trouble than she had hoped, for Venus was not popular in the 'street/ the women were jealous of
her looks, and resented her air of superiority. The men were afraid of her, particularly those who had tried to bed her, and on whom she had turned scratching and snarling like a catamount.

Yet Venus's campaign had its effect and increased Theo's troubles. She gave Theodosia no overt cause for complaint, kept her clothes in perfect repair, obeyed orders with promptness, but with a sort of silky defiance and sullenness that was intangible. Until one day in March.

Joseph's next youngest brother, John Ashe, had just been married to a girl from the Santee country, Sally McPherson, and had brought her back to the Waccamaw. Colonel William, according to custom, had presented his son with a plantation, Hagley, and the young couple were now in residence.

Theo's health had not permitted her to attend the wedding, and she and Joseph set out on this March afternoon to pay their respects. Theo liked her new sister-in-law at once. Her giggles, curls, and vivacity reminded her of little Katie Brown at home. For an hour or so she forgot her discomfort and laughed with Sally. They whispered and made silly jokes like the eighteen-year-olds they both were.

But by five o'clock Theo was exhausted. Her brief access of spirits vanished. She was within two months of her term, and her physical sufferings were insistent. She loathed her body as it had become—swollen, heavy, even the once trim ankles and tiny delicate hands. She could have endured this and the backaches, giddiness, and laboring heart, which everyone said was quite natural, if it had not been for the frequent clouds of depression. They floated down on her like masses of thick black gauze, stifling her, and flattening life into an endless gray wasteland.

The blackness descended on her now, and she pulled herself
clumsily to her feet, murmuring excuses to Sally. She wanted only to crawl home to her own room, to her soft sofa. There she could lie in peace without effort, if possible without thought.

Sally was much concerned and wanted to call Joseph. The two brothers had gone walking over John's plantation to inspect the rice stand in the far fields.

'Oh, no,' protested Theo, trying to smile. 'Please don't call him. Pompey is waiting and can drive me home, then come back for Joseph later.'

Sally reluctantly agreed. She was worried. Theodosia looked badly, so pale, and her features blurred and puffy. It was hard to believe John Ashe's statement that the poor girl had been extremely pretty some months ago. Still, of course in that condition—Sally felt very mature and matronly—one must expect to lose one's looks, and one must be forgiven sudden crotchets like rushing back to the Oaks before the men had finished their visit together.

No one at the Oaks expected Theo back so soon, and the house seemed deserted and very quiet. Even Cuffey, the little errand boy, whose duty it was to open the front door, was nowhere to be seen. Far off, from the quarters, she heard the sound of laughter and singing, the strumming of banjos—African instruments the negroes made themselves. They were all down there, no doubt, as usual rejoicing at any opportunity to escape from work. She sighed wearily.

When she had dragged herself upstairs, panting and resting on each step, she noticed without surprise that her room door was ajar. She had given strict orders that it should be kept closed, for the day was uncommonly chilly, and she wished the room to retain all the heat from the little fire. But the servants never remembered anything for ten minutes at a time.

Her kid shoes made no sound on the carpeted floor as she
trod painfully down the hall, and, putting her hand on the doorknob, pushed open the door.

There was a flash of sound, a streak of movement from within. Theo gave a startled cry and hung onto the doorknob. Venus confronted her, backed up against the long gilt mirror before which she had been posturing. The girl's eyes were dilated with fear and hatred. She flung her head back defiantly, glaring at her mistress, but she had thrown her arms high across her chest and around her throat in a quick gesture of concealment.

It took a moment for Theo to grasp the meaning of this tableau. Then she gasped. Her eyes slowly focused on Venus, and then she suddenly understood. 'You've got my dress on!

My dress——' she whispered. Not that dress, the white gown embroidered in gold which she had worn on her birthday night at Richmond Hill! The beautiful gown that she loved so much that she had never worn it since, but had kept it wrapped in linen in her cedar box! She shut her eyes dizzily. Horrible—dark brown arms, a brown column of throat against the whiteness of that dress.

Nausea welled in her, her face contorted. 'Take it off, you slut!' she panted, her hands twisting and untwisting on the doorknob.

Venus did not move, her thin mouth curled, her cheeks glowed dusky scarlet.

Theo darted forward. 'What have you got on your chest—what arc you hiding?'

For a second the girl shrank, hugging her arms tighter about her throat. Then her chin went up, her lips parted in a malevolent smile, supremely insolent. She dropped her arms. Glittering and fiery on her dark bosom lay Aaron's diamond necklace.

Rage brought a rush of blood to Theo's head. If she could
have killed, she would have. She beat Venus across the face with her small swollen fists, dragging the necklace off with such violence that the clasp tore through the brown flesh.

'You're vile—vile! I hate you—I hate you——'

Her voice cracked, the room swirled around her, and she fell forward on the floor, cradling the necklace against her check. The other servants found her lying there, crumpled and still, when they returned from the 'street' later. They were frightened and placed her gently on the bed, applying rude restoratives.

When Joseph came home she was conscious and in pain: a grinding pain that tore through her at intervals and made speech impossible. Joseph sat on the bed beside her and patted her hand nervously. He was worried and upset, but he could not understand what had happened, nor did he realize what was likely to happen until Phoebe the cook, who hovered near the bed, remarked with gloomy satisfaction: 'Look lak dat babby comin' right now, Maussa. Yuh better fotch Maum Chloe fum Clifton, enty? Mistiss she gwine hab bad time.'

Joseph started. 'You think it's that? Send for Pompey at once, tell him to gallop to Clifton. Tell him——'

Theo opened her eyes. 'Joseph, no'. Her whisper held a desperation that checked him. He turned to her uncertainly. 'I'm not going to have the baby now. I—won't.'

Not till May when Father will be with me—I need him—I won't live through it if he's not near me.

Phoebe chuckled, shrugging her fat shoulders. 'Yo' kain' stop'em, Mistiss, wen dey wants ter come.'

Theo lay very quiet. Inside her racked body she gathered her will, consciously drawing strength until it flooded her with a compelling power. The pain receded.

'Joseph——'

He bent down quickly. 'What is it, my poor little Theo?'

'Laudanum,' she whispered. 'A big dose, now. And don't fetch Maum Chloe. I won't let her near me. I'm not going to have the baby yet. I won't.'

Nor did she. For three days and nights she lay almost motionless on her bed. The pains gradually died away.

O
N THE
fifth day after the averted crisis, Theodosia sat up, and Joseph was relieved to find that she felt much better. He drew a chair to her bedside and at last broached the subject of Venus.

'She told me the whole thing, my dear, and I was extremely angry with her, of course. I told her that she was not fit to be a house servant again for some time. She shall be punished by staying in the quarters until she has learned her lesson/ Theo stared at him, astounded. 'But Joseph—don't you realize what she did? She can't possibly remain on the plantation. I want you to sell her. Oh, don't you understand—the girl hates me.'

'That's unreasonable, Theo,' he said patiently. 'The wench was not going to steal your things, she has too much sense for that. She was simply trying them on; very imperti
nent, of course, but scarcely a crime. She is very pretty for a nigger, and I dare say has female vanity like others of her sex.'

Theo slumped back against the pillows; she was very weak and tears pricked her eyelids. It wasn't so much that the girl had got around Joseph by a clever flank attack, or even that he should be so willfully blind to Venus's hostility, but that he couldn't realize that the dress and the necklace were not any chance part of her large wardrobe. They were her most cherished possessions. Venus had known it, that was why she had chosen them. And now they were desecrated. It was a part of herself that had been rubbed against that oily brown skin, had covered a heart that seethed with hatred and the passion to hurt.

There was no use explaining. Joseph would never understand. She had not the strength to argue with him. Yet there was one point she must make clear.

'I suppose you will do as you like about the disposition of Venus, except that she will never be a house servant again in any house that I occupy—never'. She paused a moment. 'Joseph—I've been thinking. Father might get me a French maid. I would like someone to speak French with—a French chef too, perhaps. You know Governor Drayton has one, and several of your father's friends in Charleston,' she added quickly.

'What's the matter with the victuals Phoebe provides?' he snapped, ruffling.

What indeed? thought Theo, except that she can apparently cook nothing but rice, fried pork, and kitchen greens swimming in grease.

'Phoebe cooks well enough, Joseph, but sometimes something a little more elaborate—when we entertain, I mean. I believe that Father could procure us a chef,' said Theo, who had already discussed it with Aaron.

Joseph was silent. He deplored her manifest inability to manage the blacks, and thought it foolish to import expensive white servants from the North, but on the other hand one must not cross women in her condition, they were always unreasonable, and his vanity was tickled at the thought of French servants. They would undoubtedly lend a certain luster to his plantation.

He lit a fat black cigar, leaned back on his chair, and changed the subject. 'When is your father coming South? Have you heard?'

She smiled suddenly, her strained eyes softened. 'Of course I've heard'. Unconsciously she touched her bosom, and Joseph saw a comer of a letter through the opening of her nightshift.

His mouth tightened. Anger seized him. He tapped his foot impatiently. 'When, then?'

'The first of May. That should be plenty of time. The baby isn't—shouldn't come until the middle of the month anyway'. She turned away, adding very low, half to herself, 'I know I wouldn't come through it if—he weren't here'. Joseph expelled a great mouthful of smoke with the effect of an explosion. 'That's nonsense, Theo! Ridiculous! What has he got to do with it? It's unseemly to have men around at such a time anyway——'

He flung his cigar into the fireplace, and glared at her. Why must she always be different from other females? Why could she not accept this normal business of women in the natural way, as Mrs. Alston did, and his sister, and every other woman he had ever heard of? They kept their embarrassing condition as unobtrusive as possible, never mentioning it, never fussing, until at the proper moment they quietly disappeared from masculine eyes, and eventually reappeared with a new addition to the family.

Sometimes, though, they did not reappear. It occurred to him suddenly that his cousin Mary had died in childbirth. A trickle of fear extinguished his irritation. He examined Theo anxiously, consciously seeing her for the first time in weeks. She did not look right. Her small face was both puffy and pinched. Her glorious eyes had lost all their brightness. And her cheeks between limp auburn braids were as white as the newly plastered wall behind her.

His heart contracted. 'My darling——'