Princess Ces'alena (36 page)

The slave’s quarters were deathly quiet save for the sound of the whip…and the scream that followed. It had been going on for the last hour. Tears dropped from Kayleen’s eyes, no matter how she hummed her lullaby, she could not close off the vicious sound of the whip and screams.

{{CRACK!}} - “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!!”

Still another.

Kayleen shuddered remembering the old superstition that said, a child born in the hearing shot of certain tragedies would one day grow to suffer the like. She shook her head to erase the old slave tale, as a scream cut through the night again.
‘Lord God…when they torture gone end?’
She prayed to herself. “Oh Manny, where you at?”

A small whimpering squeak, and then a wiggle told her she held the child too tightly…too close. She loosened and began humming her lullaby. “Thank God for you.” She hugged Lena’s new born infant close, rocking her in the rocking chair next to the bed, as Lena lay unconscious …completely unaware that she had given birth to a beautiful daughter. The pressure of her body forced her to continuously push as they aided her. The three of them had been afraid she wouldn’t be able to deliver her, and so helped her by applying pressure. The moment the child rushed from her womb, she went still.

They worked quickly removing the after birth and cleaned her up. After all was done, Ferrus came in to assist Kayleen with her through the night. They would wake her, sitting her straight up and force her to speak to them. Ferrus did it regular without being told. In his own quiet determined way…he would make sure that while she slept, she would wake up.

He would not allow her to die. Ruby and Ma’Nicey left over an hour before, after assisting the birth and clean up. As Kayleen gazed down into the sleeping infants face, she was overcome by the child’s beauty. Reminding her once more of Mikey; who would never see his little sister, tears sprang to her eyes again. The child’s coloring was a lot like her brothers, except her hair tended to be more in Lena’s shade; not as dark, but taking on a golden hue.

She had yet to see her eyes; though they opened for a moment…it was in the dark of the shadowy lantern light. She wondered at their color.

She held her close to her breast, so afraid to lay her down…never had Kayleen felt so much pressure in her life. Her biggest fear was that this child too would get taken from Lena. If that happened, it would kill her for certain. Lena was like her very own daughter… she would do whatever it took to protect her; to protect her child. No one would ever hurt them again. Ferrus, Ma’Nicey and Ruby all agreed to the plan they’d discussed…it was time they took their lives into their own hands.

What pained Kayleen, was that this plan - would bring a double blow to Manny. But he was a man, she felt him being a man…and a white man at that,
that
status alone equipped him with the emotional tools necessary to overcome this pain. Ruby had already returned and nodded to them that the plan was set and ready to go. She and Ma’Nicey had spoken with Mazie…and after some convincing…she was in. They were going through with it.

* * *

“Barkeep…another two rounds for me and my friend please!” Manny shouted over the noisy din of the crowded saloon. It was late in the evening, close to midnight and Percy’s saloon was full for such a warm evening. Several card games were in progress and the piano player tinkled out tunes no one gave a mind to. The barmaids were randomly making their rounds, every now and then one became lucky with a half drunk patron, leading them to their upstairs room where they prayed he’d pass out without having to service him, as they fleeced him for double the price.

Manny and Charles were in a jovial mood, laughing and talking about his success in the purchasing of the new ship, as Charles - all smiles and white teeth suggested, “A toast my old friend and client!”

Chuckling, Manny raised his glass, “Certainly, let us do…what shall we toast to?” He asked with grinning eyes. Charles gave it some thought, then brightened all the more. “I say, we toast to - dreams coming true.” There glasses clinked and they both downed their shot of brandy.

“So now, tell me my friend, what dreams have you - that are coming true?” Charles asked while instinctively, he knew Manny, chances are, they were dreams that would shock others, Charles when it came to Manny, was not so easily shocked anymore.

Manny thought about that with a smile, however, considering it concerned Lena and his children, he would side track the question. “Ah…no no no, it may be as a wish made to the brightest star, tell it…and never see the coming of it. That I will keep to myself. The question tonight my friend is this…what shall I name her?”

Charles nodded agreeably. That confirmed his thoughts, he didn’t need him to tell him, when Manny brushed off a question so cleverly, it meant only one thing, that Ceś alena was the answer or in the midst of it. Thus, he knew it was best he turned his mind to the ship…what to name her? He could play the evasive game too, and pretended ignorance. “What to name who?” He grinned in the asking.

“Name who!? You know damn well who! My ship of course, since I purchased this one brand new, she hasn’t a name. With me being the owner and captain, I get the privilege of christening it!” Manny replied using Charles’s question to avoid the previous one. However, he tripped himself up this time… the drink loosening his wit. He already knew its name, only problem was, he would now have to share that with Charles.

“Ah! True my good man…so true! Let’s see what I can help you come up with? I tell you what, I’ll run through a few names and you choose from the list I give you.” He initiated the game.

Manny looked in the mirror over the liquor rack behind the bar at his reflection, and then over at Charles who was making exaggerated faces as if struggling for names. “Let’s see…are you listening…ah good…first one, the Daisy May…or maybe, the ??? Silver Pearl? Oh…wait…how about the-…”

“My friend, I find as usual, your humor lacking!” Manny swallowed down his drink, turned to Charles cutting him off to say.

“My humor? What is wrong with my humor?” Charles pretended to be offended. Manny sobered and stared at him for a long moment. Charles could see the serious contemplation in his expression. He sobered as well. Manny turned away from him as he downed the last of another drink. They’d taken care of business and enjoyed each others company, as usual. Times like these, made Charles think about when they were teenagers the things they got into together. They were closer than some real brothers. They had their fights and disagreements too. But Manny had always been there for him, no matter what…and he would always be the same.

Charles easily sensed his need to talk and as his friend, he would listen, agree or not, he always tried his hardest to understand. “Very well …let’s hear it.” He grasped Manny by the shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze. “What name shall she carry my friend?”

Manny turned and looked at Charles, and said calmly, firmly…though hesitant. “Princess Ceś alena.” With that said, he turned back to playing with his empty glass, swishing the dregs around the bottom. Charles swallowed, even though he always suspected it to be so, it still stung a bit hearing him confirm it. “Are you finally - admitting to me, that you’re in - love with her, Manny?”

Manny took a steadying breath first, then gradually his head bobbed until it was a full yes nod; again he looked at his friend…waiting. Charles drew in a deep breath, with eyes wide and accepting, he blew it out, not yet responding. Noticing, Manny added more. “I love her. I have always loved her – in truth, from the very beginning. And - I always will.” They stood looking at each other, both wanting to be cautious with their next words. “You’re quiet. Well? I’ve finally said it… you have my confession, what do you have to say?”

Charles didn’t know what to say, lost - he shrugged, and then spoke his mind, “What can I say? All this time…I’ve been prodding for this confession, and now that I have it. I’m not sure what to do with it.”

“Why do you feel a need to do something with it? It is simply the way that it is for me. It is something I know will never change. Now, speak your mind.”

Charles took a nervous deep breath, realizing how sensitive this subject they were on; leaning close he whispered afraid someone else might hear. “There is nothing simple may friend, about this disclosure, I mean, my God Manny, she’s…she’s…she’s colored…a - a Negro. Your slave.”

Manny threw his head back, roaring in laughter, he laughed uncontrollably for a solid minute; tears gathered in his eyes, coming down from it, he reached up to catch a lone tear. Charles stood with a smirk on his face feeling ridiculous; waiting for him to get serious again when Manny looked at him and asked, “Ah so she is, you think perhaps I hadn’t noticed? Trust me my friend, I know what she is. Regardless of her packaging, she is – a woman, that I assure you.”

“Alright, alright alright-…”

“Well come on Charles…you can do better than that? And - to address that particular fact, I want you to know…it is one of the things about her that stirs me. I love the difference in us.” Charles froze a moment with his mouth open. “Close your mouth, there are flies about.” Manny chided.

“Manny!” Charles called his name in frustration. “I’m trying here…I really am. My struggle is to see how…I mean… I couldn’t - but…I guess that is me. You know, we have the most beautiful women in the world to choose from, blonde hair, dark and ginger. Green eyes, blue eyes, hazel or grey…and do not misunderstand me, I can see, she is - I will admit, indeed lovely. But – she is there for your pleasure…to live out fantasies-…”

“
Stop!
Before you venture too far.” Manny warned with narrowing eyes. “I’m sorry.” Charles threw his hands up in surrender. “I guess it is hard for me to see, because my family has never owned slaves. So I haven’t lived as closely with Negroes as you have. Manny it is just that…-(he whispered this)- …white and colored, they don’t - mix!”

“You are sad Charles, as a man who uses logic and reasoning to win cases that other’s might see differently, you can say
that
to me? You say we do not mix? Then what of my son? What of the child she now carries? Is that not mixing? You a man tells me, we do not mix, when the Creator, obviously not thinking the same, has made it possible for us to do just that!” He glared at Charles a moment, long enough for his son to blush.

Manny shook his head, looking away from him, deep in thought, “Look Charles, I have grappled with what you say – have done so for years. I have had all of the variety in women you listed, as you well know. There is no way to help you see it, other than to say…none that I’ have known, or will know… compare to Lena. All that a woman, does for a man…she does for me. Aye, every moment, of my every day, I am steeped in anxiety to get to her. Everything she does, when I am around, I cannot resist watching her do. I love the color and softness of her skin; the wild curliness of her hair; her smile, her laughter, her anger and fiery temper; her pride; how she squares her shoulders and says in her walk and talk – to hell with you all! She is fierce, loyal and overflowing with passion. Why me, I cannot explain it – but know this, I am certainly done with denying it. Instead, I will embrace it.”

“My God…” Charles muttered stunned.

“And know this…no man, or woman for that matter, will stand between us. I would gladly crush anyone, who dare try. I cannot lose her, I cannot live without her.” They both stared at each other again in silence. Charles absorbing it all with stunning clarity. Shaking his head he finally looked away, peering down the bar. “Percy!! Another round!!”

Manny stood waiting with a lifted brow. Percy worked his way back to them placing their drinks before them. Charles picked his up with a sigh, “A toast… to - Princess Ceś alena and dreams… well…may all yours come true!” Lifting his glass he smiled at his long time friend waiting. Manny chuckled and raised his drink. “Amen to that, to Princess Ceś alena!”

Their glasses clinked again and both men swallowed down their brandies.

The man who stood directly behind Manny trembled with fear. Sweat popped from his forehead and ran down his grimy skin, catching on scabbed over scars on his face and neck. He had overheard the majority of the conversation and was for once glad he’d bided his time before speaking too soon. He’d come into the bar earlier than the two, raging on and on about nigger slaves and the hell they’d put him through that day. He had sat in the corner, drank a bit and was playing a hand at cards when one of the men at the table drew his attention to the two gentlemen dressed sharply at the bar.

“That there gentlemen be Maynard Webster hisself.”

“Well ya’ don’t say, I think I’ah go have a word with him then.” He withdrew from the game and sauntered up to the bar, ordering himself another drink as he waited for the two men to stop their toasting; finding himself drawn into listening to their conversation. Now that he had, and because of what was on his mind, he was contemplating slipping from the bar un-noticed.

If he could get his frozen feet to move, fearful of drawing attention to himself. He couldn’t believe his bad luck; this situation was going from bad to worse. He had almost choked on his drink when he heard this man, Maynard Webster, confess to being in love with his negro slave.
‘No wonder his wife so upset, insistin’ I do things the way she want.’
It hadn’t occurred to him to believe the slaves, well they would do and say anything to keep one of their children from being taken from them. And the overseers there backed her up…so how was he to know.
‘Godalmighty! I been used…used for revenge…no wonder she made the offer too good to turn from! She wanted to be rid of the boy!’
He chanced a glance over his shoulder at Manny and quickly turned back thinking.
‘Jeeeee-sus! Why didn’t I listen…why didn’t I listen?... greed…plane ol’sinful greed! Cause you a damn greedy fool! I swear Lord…get me out’ah this, an’ I’ah turn over a new leaf…no sa’! I swear I’m done with the peddlin’ of flesh, sellin’ negras, just as soon as I rid myself of this batch! I swear Lord…I swear.’
He prayed gulping and thinking of an escape. Flashing in his mind and making him more panicky was remembering how he beat her.