Princess Ces'alena (7 page)

Her head now bowed in remorse, Lena conceded with a nod.

Shaking her head, Kayleen furthered, “Just wait ‘til his daddy see’im. He need to whip yo’tail!” Kayleen let slip. Lena looked up hurt. That was the final softening to Kayleen, who reached out and caressed Lena’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you. You and this baby like my own. But it breaks my heart seein’ him like this.”

Lena looked down again and just as suddenly…her head shot back up.

The front door opened, and a second later slammed shut with heavy foot falls sounding throughout the house. Bringing those that arrived towards the back of the house and towards the kitchen. “Oh Lord.” Kayleen muttered, as Lena’s thoughts echoed the same. Lena went to pick him up and carry him out the back, but he was so heavy to lift…it was a strain on her, and causing further injury to him as his outcry of pain confirmed, forcing Lena to leave him in his seat, unwilling to hurt him further. It was too late anyway, they were already in the dining room bellowing.

“We’re hungry as bears; I sure hope dinner is ready!”

“Oh nooo.” Lena groaned as the kitchen door swung open admitting Manny; dusty, hot and hungry. All three looked up at the same time towards him. Because of the frozen silence, and large eyes fixed on him, Manny knew something was wrong, and felt a twinge in his stomach before his eyes flew back down to his son.

“What in hell happened to him!? My God, look at him!!” The roar of his voice shook them all; he stood in the open doorway holding it open looking back and forth from Lena to Kayleen for an explanation. Lena swallowed nervously to begin, when Mike wincing, stood to face his father.

“Well, don’t everyone speak at once!” He blurted, sarcasm swelling as he waited for an answer, his penetrating eyes settling on Lena. To take the heat from his mother, Mike spoke up. “I - I can - explain.” He began. Looking from Lena to his son, his expression softened as he gazed down at his small double. “Ya’ see-…”

Manny cut him off correcting him immediately. “You - see.” Mike nodded. “You - see, this mornin’ - I ask mama could I go fishin’ with Jimmy, I thought he was my friend-...” Manny glared at Lena with widened eyes. “…-but he wasn’t. ‘Cause when this boy Sonnyboy came-…” Mike went on to tell him what had taken place, his neck stretched back straining to look up at his father. Manny slowly descended to a squat, one knee on the floor; he exhaled a deep sigh. “Are you alright - nothing broken is it?” This he asked Mike, but looked again to Lena to answer. Before she could, Mike answered, as his father gently grasped his chin, turning his face from side to side examining his injuries. “No sir, nothin’ broke. Just sore is all.”

“What about here, you been coughing up any blood? Hard to breath?”

Mike winced and jerked slightly when Manny’s fingers made contact with his bruised side. “No sir, I’m okay, my lip been bleedin’s all.” Manny dropped his hand to his raised knee, the other laying on his lowered thigh as he gazed with wonder at the nine year old version of himself. Though no one cared or understood, he was proud of his son.

This child before him was his, there was no room or need for doubt because of the obvious, and he loved him with a strength and power so absolute, that it crowded out all normal reasoning used to argue against it in his day and circumstances.

“Manny!!” Morris shouted from the dinning room, “You get out here - now damn it!!” Again Manny sighed…here it came, another one. With a loving reassuring stroke over his sons’ head, he smiled to let him know, everything would be okay. One last stroke to his cheek looking into his aqua blue eyes, matching his own; he turned leaving the room to face Morris.

Manny walked into the dining room bracing himself; he’d heard this same old argument a thousand times.
‘One would think you would tire of wasting your breath old man…but then you’re determined to have your way; and so am I dear father…so am I!’
Manny thought as he positioned himself by the fire place, to lean against the high mantel as if to give himself support for what was to come. Morris stood against the back of one chair at the long table’s end; his hand tightly grasping the eagle head of his cane. “Well I was listenin’, just listenin’ and waitin’ to see how you was gon’ handle it, and you did just as I expected you would; you did nothing! Nothing at all!” Morris started. Manny made no response, patiently waiting.

“Goddamn you Manny!!”
Morris exploded, the veins in his head throbbing. “I’m sorry I ever won that wench in a poker game! Nothin’ been the same here since she come! We was once close…and now…all we do is argue…because of her! I told you, I told you…leave that wench alone - she’s evil… since she come you listen to nothin’ I say now! Nothing!”

Manny silently mimicked his father’s repetitious last few words mockingly, aggravating Morris all the more seeing it.

“See what I mean? You don’t even respect me as your father anymore! It’s all on account of that Ceś alen’ and-…”

“Ceś alena!” Manny corrected his father calmly; Morris quieted a moment before he exploded - feeling the heat take him over. “I don’t give a golden cat’s ass what her name is! Don’t you correct me again! I want that boy punished for the trouble he stirred - and his mama for lettin’im off this property to play with decent white children…that boy kicked a old white man. He should be taught not to disrespect the white - even if it
is
white trash! He aught’na done it! I can jest imagine that ol’dusty cantankerous drunk coming to my door startin’ trouble and spreading more about us - as if folks ain’t sayin’ enough…”

“Ceś alena!! Get your tail here and bring that boy with you! I know you been listenin’, ni’ get out here!!” At that moment, a loud banging started at the front door. Morris turned to Manny with a knowing look on his face. “Now I wonder who that could be!!” He shot. Manny sighed. “I’ll be right back…this is not over yet!”

“You don’t tell me what’s over! I tell you!” Morris corrected him, but Manny charged from the room ignoring him. That was fine with Morris, who made his way just as quickly to the kitchen door flinging it wide; as he did he caught Lena hustling Mike to the back door. “Close - that - bloody door! You heah’me callin’ you wench!? How dare you disobey me!” Morris halted Lena in a threatening tone.

Manny went down the hall from the dining room meeting Ferrus, their black butler on the way. “I’ll take care of this Ferrus.” Manny informed him; then carried on past the living room and library, next his study office and hall leading to the small ballroom, into the foyer past the long staircase that led to the upper level and bedrooms, and rounded the wall blocking the front door entrance from view…he opened it as Grady’s mouth opened to talk, Manny cut him off, “I assume you’re here concerning the trouble with the boys earlier. I assure you, it’s being handled; we know of the fight and the deed done to you. However, I’d like to warn you -
don’t
–
ever
- consider it your duty to discipline anyone belonging to me from Webster Fields again! I take care of my people, you have a complaint, you bring it to me… especially when it comes to Michael! That is all I have to say to you Mr. Grady, good day!”

This was fired out so rapidly, Grady had time for changing facial expressions only when the door was slammed shut in his face. Manny spun to return to his father when he heard screaming from the back of the house.

“Please Master morris, please – don’t whip my son! It is not his doing but my own! I did this!! You may whip me, but not my son! Please, I’m begging you not to do this!” Lena pleaded with Mike clinging to her waist in a death grip as she tried to force him behind her; maintaining his protective position in front, he refused to let his mother take what he felt was his punishment.

Kayleen stood yelling at Morris. “I swear you hit that baby! I’ll make yo' life a living hell Morris Webster!”

“Shut up! My life already a living hell!” He spat, then to Lena. “Get over here with that boy! Don’t make me chase you another step…
get here now!
” Morris bellowed with his belt in hand ready to dispense the whipping. He held his cane in the other making his way to the other end of the large kitchen. Lena began panicking, knowing she was backing into a corner, wndering where was Manny, afraid that he’d been so upset he’d allow his father to hurt his son, or her. “My son did nothing wrong! I did the wrong…not him! So you cannot touch him, it is me you must strike!”

“Damn you! Now you’ve gone to tellin’ me what I’m gone do, and ain’t gone do!? I’ll teach you who’s master here wench, I’ll teach you!!” He yelled indignantly, flinging the strap over his back charging at her and Mike, who screamed frightened. “No – no no no!! Don’t hit my mama!!”

Manny burst into the kitchen just in time to see the leather belt slap harshly across her back. Mike was screaming into his mother’s breast, just as her scream of pain blended with his.

“What are you doing!? Don’t hit her!! Don’t you dare strike her!!!” Manny bellowed running up to his father snatching the strap from mid air as it was about to lash her a second time. The men were in a heated tug of war. Morris glared with hard warning into his son’s eyes. “You turn this belt loose boy.” He seethed through clenched teeth. Disregarding his father’s warning, Manny barked. “Lena! Go! To your cabin - now!!” Needing no further encouragement, she fled with her son in tow; leaving the two men breathing hard and glaring eye to eye at each other. Kayleen stood present as Ferrus came into the kitchen behind all the yelling.

“How dare you!!” Morris raged.

“You forced me to this! You had no right! She belongs to me! You had no right!” Manny returned tightly. Stepping back and releasing the belt now that his son and Lena were gone.

“I have every right! She’s my property! As well that boy!” Morris yelled returning his belt to his trousers. Both men stood with their eyes fixed on the other. Father and son, Manny’s mirror of what older age would do to him. Morris’s head was just about completely grey from the blonde it had been at one time. His eyes the color of his sons, the same that had been passed on to Mike. Also each would share the same rugged features, squared forehead and chin, with a straight prominent nose, below deep set eyes and thick tan brows.

At fifty-seven years old, Morris was still quite a cutting figure of a man; just two inches shorter than his son due to the stroke he’d suffered, stooping his posture. His hard living, fighting, smoking, drinking and late all night gambling hadn’t helped either. He was a passionate man, of a volatile temper. Controlling and wanting things the way he envisioned them to be. His son, and the life he was now leading…was far from his vision. It was time to turn things around. He’d given him too much leeway.

“When is this going to end? This insistent harassment about them? I’m not going to change! He will never be for sale! Not ever!” Manny yelled, then left the kitchen; leaving Morris there wondering how could someone look so much like him, and be nothing like him at all? This was the payback for making sure his son had the best of everything. A splendid home and plantation; a college education, though short…still he’d had it.
He
couldn’t claim the same. It was that damn fancy college up north he sent him to. They were the blame. What else could explain his son’s behavior and his resistance to do what was right about that bastard?! Then he remembered another element that might be part of the cause; Royal Sun Webster, was his mother. Morris took a deep breath feeling the pressure of his son’s irreverent behavior towards him. Much due to the presence of that evil wench and the offspring she bore him. With a deep sigh he turned to see Kayleen glaring at him angrily. He cut his eyes to Ferrus, who backed out and left. Then back to Kayleen. “Well, what in hell you glarin’ at?!”

“Nothin’, nothin’ at all!” She retorted eyeing him with mean intent.

“Well then I’d advise you to get back to preparing my dinner.”

“And if I was you…I’d be nervous ‘bout eatin’ it.” She mumbled as she turned away. “Goddamn you all to hell! I should sell the lot of you… startin’ with you! Never did me no favors bringing you here! Should’ah rid myself of you after Royal left me.”

“She be the lucky one.” Kayleen added mumbling, grabbing an apple to chop, her eyes on him with the cleaver in hand as she made the first split in two…then turned from him continuing to grumble about spiteful old white men. Morris shook his head, catching much of what she’d said, but he neither had the energy or the inclination to follow through on getting rid of her.

Making his exit, re-entering the dining room, his eyes fell on his son who was standing before the fire place with his arms stretched out on the mantel. His head hanging between them…his body in position to look as if he were pushing against it with all of his might. He was trying to collect himself. With closed eyes, he steadied his breathing for what he felt he had to do, and the first part was informing his father.

Morris took a seat at the head of the table in the dining room…and for a few minutes more…silence reigned in the room. As he sat staring at his son’s back, he couldn’t help but think back to when she’d first arrived,
‘I knew it, I knew the minute I laid eyes on that fancy Negress she was gone be trouble. I’ll be damned if she ain’t just that…the minute she come into my boy’s life…she cast some kinda spell on him. He ain’t never been the same since.’