Princess Ces'alena (39 page)

"The sonofabitch had my son!!! Katherine!! Kath-ther-rinnne!”
He yelled her name over and over throughout the house, as he took to the stairs, climbing them three at a time, forgetting that Amos had said she was gone.

“Katherine…Katherine! Damn you – where are you… Katherine!!” One door after another slammed open and against their inner wall as he went from room to room throwing them open.

“She’s gone.”

He searched for her seeing through a veil of red, not yet aware of his father’s presence in the hall. “I saaaid – she - gone!!”

Finally he heard after snatching open the last door, and out of pure raging frustration, he slammed it closed so hard the knob came off in his hand as he spun on his father. “Gone - where!?”

“Don’t matter, she away…for awhile!”

“Why!?! Why – didn’t – you – stop here?!” Manny’s face was livid, the veins standing out on his forehead and neck.

“I didn’t know - what was happening - ‘till it was too late…he’s gone…it’s over…that’s that.” Morris spoke normally, nervous and shaken himself, but he didn’t know how else to deal with it.

“That’s that?” Manny’s muscles grew taut, his hand squeezed the brass knob for control. “That’s — that?!” For the first time in his life, he actually felt as though he could strike his father. Morris stood with his insides trembling as if he could sense it.

“It’s done I mean…the boys gone.”

They were the wrong words, Manny shook as tears rushed to his eyes, mentally it was more than he could stand, everything rushed in and exploded.

He bellowed in a rage, half cry - half roar burning his throat and lungs. The rage that took over him drove him mad, unable to hold it in he spun pounding on the walls around him, his fist going through one spot after another, slamming against the wall and sobbing in such a fight, as if trying to break free from something that took hold of him. His body shook as he spun with his fist balled and suddenly he lurched back and hurled the knob past Morris. He sent it flying with such force, such speed that Morris felt and heard the swoosh as it cut through the air past his head, hitting the wall behind him, just missing the window at the end of the hall. It struck so powerfully, that it embedded over halfway into the wall.

Manny reached up grabbing his hair with both hands, doubling over from the agony of his pain, his elbows tucked into his midriff as he fell back sobbing long and deep, rocking and slamming himself against the wall.

“My Mi – Michael, nooo nooo nooo – please - I’m coming…I’m c-coming - I’m c-coming son…I’m coming.” He sobbed and rocked. He rolled onto his hands and knees, so dizzy everything around him spun threatening to send him into dark oblivion. “Ah - pleeeeeeeeease, help me - I gotta…I gotta find him…I gotta.” He prayed begging. He fell back against the wall, taking deep breaths. His mind playing scenes of his son coming to him crawling...his first steps…pudgy hands working to be picked up by him. His laughter…his son. Manny pulled his shirt up to wipe over his face, blowing his nose into it; he tried to remove it, and in another burst of rage, tore it from his body. He pushed up the wall behind him, still dizzy…wiping the sweat from his head and face. Sniffling, trying to gain control but his head throbbed heavy and painful. He staggered down the hall and entered his room.

Morris stood in the hall alone now; his ears ringing, his heart hurting. All he could think of then, was Royal Sun…his wife he could see her, looking at him, eyes wide with disbelief and – disappointment in him. “I’m … I’m sorry Royal. I’m sorry – I didn’t know.” To his horror, he felt it…thick in the air…the severing of that very precious bond…between father and son. Because he knew, that if he had acted as soon as he had known, he might have gotten him back. A moment later, Manny re-appeared into the hall with a new shirt on, not sparing his father another glance, he ran for the stairs and down them leaping over several at a time.

Morris stood in the same spot speechless. He looked back at the still embedded knob. His stomach cramped up in knots, knowing that with the little control his son had, he’d managed to scare the hell out of him. If that knob had struck him, he’d be dead now…but with what he just witnessed, he knew if he were, his son would have stepped over his dead body.

“Lord…forgive me…forgive me, I should’ah gone after that boy. I should’ah got him.” The next thought that came to his mind was in the voice of Royal Sun, saying what he’d always known,
‘Our grandson…he was our grandson.’

* * *

Lena’s body shook with each racking sob that forced itself through her. She’d heard his return. His rapid flight past her cabin for the mansion; and minutes later his bellow for Katherine; his horrible cry of pain.

She couldn’t help but wonder how much pain one person could take? She knew he’d left in search of their son, she had heard him ride away. She hoped that he would find him…but she knew better, too much time had gone by, he could be anywhere now. So badly she wanted to hold him, comfort him from the pain, it tore at her heart for this powerful man she loved, to be reduced to such agony and pain. She would bear it some how, but she couldn’t stand seeing him go through it. “I love you…I love you so…know that I am with you. I am with you.” Helpless to all, she turned into her pillow crying, knowing that if he didn’t return with their son, once again he would be deeply hurt; this time, by her.

The plan Kayleen had put into action, she would carry through with. She had no choice. There was no way she could back out and stop it. They had already taken away her son, but no one was going to take her, Hope away.

THREE WEEKS LATER:

Once again Manny rode down the lane between cabins, this time with Charles by his side. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Lena’s cabin. He had failed. Chester Sands with his group of slaves
were no where to be found.

When he’d rode out weeks ago searching, he felt, rather than comfort Lena - the best remedy would be to find their son and bring him home. He returned to town, sought out Charles, informing him of the events taken place and together they searched. First they talked to Percy and anyone else, who might have information on Chester Sands and the places he was known to travel to. Where would he take the slaves to auction them off? Just as Percy was sure of nothing, neither was anyone else. What little they did gather, led to Yazoo City. They’d ridden hard all the way there, stopping at every town in between; splitting up, and then meeting at a pre-planned location to exchange news on what they’d found…nothing.

Everywhere they went, no one had seen or heard of a slave trader by the name of Chester Sands. Finally Charles put his foot down, demanding they return home. Neither had had much sleep; meals were neglected and both needed a bath and a shave. They were weary and worn. Manny looked like death warmed over. “Look at you Manny, my God man…are you trying to kill yourself? We’re getting nowhere like this! You’re going to wear yourself out and fall dead on your face long before we find him. Manny, we have to stop now-…”

“No! I won’t stop!! I won’t!” He cried angrily, feeling tears burn his bloodshot eyes. Charles took a deep breath. “Manny, I up and left with no word as to where I’d be, or when I’d be back. I have a business to run-..”

“My son is missing!!! My son is missing!! Go! Return to your damned business!!!” He raged.

Charles took a deep breath. He was worn out…he loved Manny, and would love to stay out searching, at first, he too believed they might be able to catch up with Sands. At least if they could just catch his trail…they’d find him; however, now… he knew they needed to formulate a different plan for this search. “Manny, we need some rest. I need some rest.”

“I need my son! Nothing more, just – to find my son!”

“Manny! We need to stop and replenish our supplies. We need to sit down and plan our next move. Right now, we’re running around in desperate circles.” He continued to plead…sympathetic but realistic. Manny didn’t say anything this time. He was leaning over the neck of his second horse. He’d pushed the other and ended up injuring it, he’d had to put it out of it’s misery.

His face was buried in the crook of his arm. He took a deep breath, raised himself erect, and turned to Charles...raw fear etched in every line of his rough haggard face. “Where’s my son Charles…where — where’s my son?” He asked brokenly, tears streaming again. He felt he was going to drop and die from the agony of it.

“Manny…” Charles said, swallowing the growing moisture in his mouth from becoming choked up as well.

“What’s happening to him right now? Oh God…I can’t take it. I can’t take - what’s … in my head!” Remembering the horrors of how he found Leon came to mind, his suffering was bad enough. But this was worse…this was his
own
son. Memories of that fat dirty barkeep molesting Leon made him conjure up all sorts of horrors that might face Mike. He knew what often happened to young slave boys; they were bought and kept by men with sick distorted perversions. Charles also knew what Manny was thinking, having been there when he’d found Leon.

“Manny…you keep imagining what you are, and you’ll go mad!”

“I’m already going - fucking mad!!! When I get my hands, on that Chester Sands…I swear by God - I will peel the flesh from his body…inch by fucking inch! Savoring his every scream!”

“Even so, for now…we have to go home. We need a bit of time to get ourselves together, and then…we take up the search…again.” He knew Manny well enough to know, that he would do as he said once he found that man. He was afraid for his friend but he would worry about that later. Manny was raw now…there was little that could be said that would penetrate the fog. Charles had always been the level headed one of the two. Manny was pure power and passion. He, Charles, was logic and control. Manny was more sensitive and emotional — he always acted impulsively on what he felt for the moment.

Never stopping and thinking it through first if it was in his gut…he manifested it; to later on realize he might have been wrong.

Charles was more objective, watchful and careful in his actions. He was hasty in nothing. Of the two, he was more agile, slender; of whipcord leanness, and didn’t look as strong as he was; dressed always in dapper attire, suiting him perfectly for the business world.

Of the two, Charles always caught the eyes of the ladies first, but Manny usually pulled them easily with his rugged primitiveness. Few could resist such animal magnetism. At the moment, he was pure animal; this was the case when it came to those he loved, especially his son and Lena.

Charles just hoped that after a while he would cool down and see the error of seeking to kill Chester Sands. If it were not for the stigma attached to his relationship with Lena, he might get away with it.

Charles knew that the present day society would view him through tainted eyes…he was a lover of black people. Negroes and Indians had no rights, and no place in elite, white society…the very darkness of their skin had placed them so.

They were less than human simply because, those in power decided, white, fair and light was what made mankind human. Because Manny sided with those of dark cast - they might trial him for murdering Chester Sands and even possibly hang him.

Later that same day when they rode into town, they both had a hot bath, a shave; a change of clothing and something to eat, even though Manny picked at his with no appetite. This due to Charles’s insistence, because they were a sight…not to mention a smelly pair. Manny was forced to agree, and now…it was nine o’clock late evening when they rode back to Webster Fields together.

Kayleen became aware of their return as they made their way through the main lane toward the barn. Quickly she ran to put her plan into action once again.

In the barn, the two men rubbed down their animals as Henry joined them there. Manny looked up and once again felt tears rush to his eyes, clearing his throat, he admitted. “I didn’t find him.”

“Not yet.” Charles inserted.

“We — we kinda figga that.” Henry added, his sad eyes on Manny, knowing what he’d gone through, with the added knowledge of the women’s plans; it wasn’t something he felt good about. Fact is, the marks on his back proved no one controlled the world they lived in, not even Manny. Jordan soon entered - hesitantly…he simply could not stand anymore heartache. His back would never be the same, and as traumatizing as it was, the suffering he endured for that child and this man - he would willingly do it over again. There was no regret in him. But now…as he stepped forward to meet Manny, and offer what support he could, there was an aching deep in his soul, because he knew for Manny…there was more to come.

Charles watched as more still came in, Leon included…not a dry eye among them…it hit him then, with absolute startling clarity…these people loved Manny, and he loved them. They were family…he was beginning to understand, slowly, the why’s of his questions to Manny.

Each one came to him, all men…hugging him, holding onto him, in their own way letting him know, they were there for him. For the first time ever, Charles felt a slight twinge of jealousy… what it must be like…to have so many people respect you, honor you, and love you to the extent…that they would lay down their lives.

Clearing his throat, with Leon beside him, looking at him with eyes of love and loyalty, Manny informed them, “I - I didn’t find him.” Tears came again as he tried to blink them away. “I - to you all…who tried to save my - who tried…I umm, I’m sorry - I wasn’t here for you. For my - my son.”

“Manny…you ain’t got to say that to us.” Jordan broke in, swallowing hard.

“I do…you could have been killed. Any one of you. Umm-…” He stopped to wipe a hand over his face to dry the tears. “This will not - go un-rewarded-…”

“What you mean?” Jordan asked gruffly. “Ain’t nobody here askin’ for nothin’ for what we do! I ain’t…is you? Is you? You?” He asked those around who all shook their heads. Looking back at Manny he said, “We love that boy too! He was just as much part’o us…as he part’o you! We just need you to know, what we do…we do to protect you…and yours! That’s all.” Jordan finished. Those last few words had a double meaning but Manny wouldn’t know that now. All had come to the decision to back Lena and Kayleen and Ma’ Nicey…because that child, the baby Hope, had to be protected at all cost.