Queen (117 page)

    depends on what his father does."

    Queen did not, could not, understand the complexity of the relationships in

    which she was entangled; she knew only blind fury and cold hate. She

    screamed and ran to Mrs. Benson, to fight with her to get the key, to get

    out, to do anything, but Mrs. Benson was ready for her and struck her hard

    across the face, and then again, and Queen fell to the floor, moaning.

The guards waiting in simple ambush in the trees near the shack thought they

were ready, but they had the disadvantage of fear. Although there was no

official membership of the Klan in Beaufort, they all knew what it meant,

and knew the cause had many sympathizers. It was as'well they did not know

that Mr. Benson had enlisted some of those sympathizers since he had been in

Beaufort, and given them purpose, direction, and

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collective strength through unity, for if they had known, their fear would

have been magnified. Or perhaps it didn't matter what they knew, for the

robed men came bursting out of the trees, on horseback, carrying brands,

and several had military training. It was a short, sharp battle that the

guards lost because they did not believe they could win. Two died

instantly, one was fatally wounded, and two ran away into the night.

    Davis fired from the hut, but he was not a trained shot, and the men on

    horseback kept beyond his range as they rode in circles around his

    fortress, calling on him to come out. Davis roared at them to rot in

    hell, but one night rider who seemed to be the leader shouted out to him.

"Come on out, nigger," he shouted. "We have your boy."

    Davis looked at his gun, which was useless to him now. He peered out of

    the window and saw that the leader had spoken the truth. A brand

    illuminated one of the riders who was holding Abner.

    Davis was scared, but not to die, he almost welcomed that. He had courted

    death too often to be afraid of it, and it had become his ultimate

    friend. He was scared for his son, whom he hardly knew.

    "Come on out, or the boy bums first," the leader shouted again.

    Davis thought that if his life had any purpose or meaning, it was now.

    If he could do anything to save his son, it was worth any sacrifice, for

    he believed what he had told Queen. The boy was the future. Davis had

    lived in negativity all his life, and his life was meaningless to him.

    Then a simple woman had loved him without limitation, and had bome his

    child, and he had found a purpose at last. Not to be father to the boy,

    but to try to create a better world for that boy to live in.

    And he had succeeded. The work he had done had helped build the

    foundations of something that he knew he would not see complete in his

    lifetime, no matter how long he lived. But he had seen a wrong and tried

    to right it, and, like the everwidening, rippling circles from a pebble

    thrown into a pond, the righting of that wrong would continue, for

    endless generations, for the righting of wrongs was an endless task. He

    had achieved what he had set out to do, for the world that his son

    QUEEN 713

would inherit would be better, if only by an infinitesimal degree, than

the world that Davis had been born into, and that, no matter how small,

was much. He knew the boy's mother would communicate to him what his

father had done, and the boy would be proud, and hold his head high, and

know that his father had helped to change the world.

    Suddenly, the immensity of human existence and experience astonished him.

    His ancestors had been brought unwillingly from Africa, and kept, like

    the Israelites in Egypt, in bondage. But, like the children of Israel,

    they had survived their ordeal and been freed from their chains. Faith

    and hope had sustained them, and they had taken their first few footsteps

    in a vast and uncharted territory that beggared the imagination, for it

    was without border or boundary. As long as the human race existed, the

    greed of some would battle the charity of others. In his life, he had

    seen a great wrong righted, because some good men, white men, he realized

    with a wry smile, had sought to redress what other white men had

    instituted. He had taken advantage of the freedom that they brought to

    him, and carried on the fight, because he had hope for the future. Queen

    had given him that, and faith that he could make some change, no matter

    how tiny. In God's eye he must be smaller than any ant, but he had

    contributed to the hill.

    Queen had been right all the time. Hate was meaningless, negative. Love

    was the sublime driving force, for what was love but faith and trust in

    another person, and hope for the future. And the greatest gifts a father

    could give his son were faith and hope and love.

The boy must live.

    They threw a rope over a branch on a tree, and put the noose at the end

    of the rope around Davis's neck. They kicked the horse he sat on, and he

    felt a sharp and sudden pain and a choking in his throat, and he jerked

    and jolted at the end of the rope, by instinctive reaction, because his

    body fought to breathe. His eyes grew dim, but his mind and his heart did

    not fight against the coming of the dark angel, but welcomed it, because

    suddenly he saw a great, golden light and as it flooded over him it

    revealed, for a moment, the most beautiful land he had ever seen, a land

    of untold promise as viewed from the highest mountain, and he knew he had

    found home at last.

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    They doused his body with paraffin and set brands to it, and as the flames

    engulfed him, the man who was the leader held Abner up to see the burning

    body.

    "Watch him bum, boy, and remember! " the leader said. "Watch your pappy

    bum."

Queen had crawled into a comer, into a fetal ball. She was clutching

herself, moaning to herself, but her mind was numb, and she did not hear the

explanation that Mrs. Benson gave her.

    "it is for William, you see, and all the little white children of America.

    It is our sacred, bounden duty to ensure that they inherit a world of peace

    and order. A clean and pure America, unsullied by animal blood. It is God's

    law."

    She was hugging William to her, caressing him with maternal love, oblivious

    of the maternal pain she had caused to another human being, for she did not

    believe that being was human. The creature had been useful, her milk

    nourished William, and thankfully milk was not blood. She could still be

    useful in the glory days to come when the true kingdom of God was

    established in this bounteous land, for she had been sent by Providence to

    aid their night's work. But she thought a visit to the doctor was in order

    for Queen, to make sure she bred no more bastards.

    There was a tap on the door. Queen cried out and scrabbled into the comer

    in fear. Mrs. Benson went to the door and unlocked it, and Mr. Benson came

    in. He nodded at his wife.

    "Now God be praised, who has brought us to this hour," she prayed. Oh, but

    she longed to be part of it, to be present at the killing, for she knew the

    effect it had on her husband, and, vicariously, on her. Mr. Benson grabbed

    her and kissed her lustily. Then he saw Queen.

"Get her out," he said huskily.

    "My baby, where's my baby," Queen moaned. Mr. Benson came to her, dragged

    her to her feet, and pushed her out of the room.

    "He's with his father," he said, to be rid of her. He slammed the door, and

    turned to his wife, his sexual energy charged to fever pitch by murder.

    QUEEN 715

Queen did not take a horse, because she had no mind to think of

practicality, and did not want to arrive at where she had to go. She did

not dare imagine what she would find when she got to the shack, but she

had to go there, because that was where they were. Moaning and crying,

clutching at her dress, grabbing at her hair, she staggered through the

night, oblivious to all around her, flames of torment filling her mind,

holding on by a slim, silken thread to sanity, which thread might break

at any moment.

    It was dawn when she got there, and mist lazed across the river and the

    land.

    She saw the charred body of Davis swinging gently from the tree when she

    was still some distance away, but she didn't cry out, for it was what she

    had been expecting. Moaning still, she stumbled toward him, and then she

    saw Abner lying motionless on the ground beneath his father.

    She screamed to heaven then, and fell to the ground, at her lowest ebb

    of self. Grief flowed upon grief, and still more grief, and pain, and

    fury at the unfairness of life so prematurely taken.

    "What have we ever done to them, Lord?" she cried. "Why do they hate us

    so much?"

She swooned, in abject wretchedness.

And God, as if ashamed of what He had wrought, relented.

A gentle rain started to fall.

It woke Abner up, and he began to cry.

    PART FOUR

A WIFE AND

MOTHER, LOVED

    Beyond the years the soul shall find That endless peace fbi- which it

    pined, For light appears, And to the eyes that still were blind With

    blood and tears Their sight shall come all unconfined Beyond the

    years.

    -PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR

    84

Rain drizzled down on the mighty Tennessee River at Savannah. Alec Haley

steered his ferry, a small, flat-bottomed steamboat, from the northern

shore to the south. It was late afternoon, a busy time of day, with people

anxious to get to their homes. His passengers had their coats pulled up

over their heads as shelter from the rain, or old newspaper or blankets

to protect their hats. It had been raining for days, and there was

very,little conversation among the passengers; the weather had dampened

their spirits.

    As Alec guided the ferry to the small jetty, new passengers were

    sheltering under trees, waiting to make the journey north.

    Alec tied a line to the wharf and the passengers disembarked, calling

    thanks or farewell to him, and made their way up the muddy track, which

    led past the Cherry mansion on the hill and on into town. The new

    passengers dashed from the shelter of the trees and took their places on

    the boat. They greeted Alec as cheerfully as the depressing weather would

    allow and Alec took their fares, exchanged greetings, and looked around

    for any latecomers. It was then that he saw the woman.

    She was tiny and light-skinned, with a darker child on her hip, wrapped

    in a thin blanket. She was poorly dressed, her coat was wom and sodden

    by the rain, and she had cardboard tucked into her shoes. She stood under

    the trees, apparently oblivious to the weather, and stared at nothing,

    as if she were lost. Alec was puzzled. He assumed she wanted to cross the

    river-there was no other reason for her to be waiting therebut she made

    no move toward him.

"Comm' on?" he called.

    It broke the woman's reverie. She looked at him as if she did not know

    where she was, and was surprised to see him.

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720 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

She walked slowly to the jetty, then stopped again, uncertain of

something. Some few of the passengers on the boat were already grumbling

at the delay she was causing, but Alec guessed the reason.

"It's a nickel," he said.

    The woman opened her small, tattered purse and counted out a few pennies,

    obviously down on her luck. Alec watched, intrigued by her light skin and

    her darker child.

"Where you headin'?" he asked her.

She looked at him with vacant eyes.

    "North," she said. She gave him the money, climbed onto the boat, and

    settled on a bench. She pulled the blanket closer around the boy, her

    coat tighter about herself, and waited with patience for the journey to

    begin. She had nothing else to do.

" C'mon, Alec! " a passenger shouted. " I's gettin' soaked. "

    Alec grunted and cast off the line. "Make y'hair grow," he said to the

    complainant, Fred, who was bald. He started the engine, and the ferry

    chugged north.

The weather didn't bother Alec. He loved his ferry, and, together with the

twenty acres of farmland he owned, it gave him a good living. He was

settled and secure, his own man, and owed nothing to anyone, except a

sense of gratitude to Massa Cherry, who was not, and never had been, his

Massa.

    Following the common custom among slaves, Alec had taken the name Haley

    from his true Massa, although his real father's name was Baugh. William

    Baugh was an overseer on the Haley plantation in Marion County, Alabama,