Authors: Alex Haley
mother first, and they had pretended they were not there, had turned their
backs as he strode into the house and walked up the stairs.
Now he was theirs, and they had assembled in a line in perfect pecking
order. Mitchell, the overseer, was first. Murdoch, the trainer, was
second-not because his was the second-best job, but because he was the
second-ranking white. Parson Dick came next, followed by Julie, Angel,
who was still crying, and then all the various house slaves. Cap'n Jack,
because of his privileged and undefined position, and because he had
already done his business, was not in the line but was outside, getting
ready to greet the swarms of arrivals-the doctor first, and relatives and
undertakers and associates and friends come to pay their respects-who
would descend on the house.
They heard the door shut, and all eyes turned to Jass as he came down the
stairs, and all approved what they saw. The natural transfer of power
that attends to any son when his father dies had already happened. Jass
was years older than he had been a few minutes ago.
He came to the head of the line. Mitchell, hat in his hands, spoke first,
for all of them.
"We are all very sad by your great loss," he said, and then spoke for
himself. "Hit was my pleasure to serve your father, sir, and hit'Id be
my pleasure to serve you."
"Thank you, Mitchell," Jass said. He shook the overseer's hand, and moved
to Murdoch.
"I am truly sorry, sir, he was a fine man." Murdoch was not lying. He
held James in great regard. The events of the morning were all part of
the job. "I look forward to serving you, sir."
Jass shook his hand, and moved to Parson Dick. Slaves did not ask to be
allowed to continue in their jobs, but the Massa had to be shown the
proper respect.
342 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
"My sincere condolences, sir." Parson Dick bowed his head slightly, to
hide a flash of angry resentment. Like Cap'n Jack, he had known Jass all
his life, from puling infant to toddling boy to spotty youth and now
this colt had complete ascendancy over him, owned him, lock, stock, and
barrel, and could do whatever he wished with him. Because he was white.
Jass shook his hand too, which surprised the usually imperturbable
Parson Dick, but Massas are Massas, and all are different, and all have
their own idiosyncrasies, and Parson Dick knew it was kindly meant.
Jass moved down the line, doing what had to be done, what was expected
of him, and inside he was screaming, let me get out of here! Last in the
line, a kitchen skivvy, a scrawny girlhe didn't even know her name,
Trixie perhaps-was overawed by the solemnity and ceremony, and as Jass
moved to her, she screamed, threw her apron over her head, and ran away
to hide in the pantry.
It broke the strained formality of the occasion, and made Jass want to
giggle. Polly and Pattie ran after Trixie, Julie mumbled apologies, and
Angel, listening on the stairs, had another bout of tears. Jass,
suffocating, took the opportunity to escape. He turned away and walked
quickly out of the house.
He strode across the lawn with no sense of direction; he had to be away
from here, away from them all, away, somewhere, anywhere, where he could
be alone. And not alone, because what he wanted, what he needed, was the
opportunity to be completely himself, without considerations of what he
had to do for other people, only the unconfining freedom to do what he
knew he must do, for himself.
He knew where he was going, and he started to run. Field slaves, who had
come close to the big house to be near the center of an important event
in their lives, didn't try to speak to him, to stop him, for somehow
they understood the urgency of his need, if not the need itself. A few
doffed their hats, but otherwise they left him alone.
He ran with lung-bursting energy to the place where he had to be.
He burst in the door, slammed it behind him, and stood, panting not only
from exhaustion, staring at her. Easter had
MERGING 343
been sitting at the loom, not to weave, but because she was comfortable
sitting there, trying to work out what a future might be, if Jass might
be different now that he was someone else, now that he had this new
dominion over her. As soon as he came in, she knew why he was there, what
he wanted, but it was uncharted sea for her, and she wasn't sure what she
should say, or if she should say anything.
His eyes told her not to speak. He looks so lonely, Easter thought, so
old and young all at once, and she knew, without question or hesitation,
where she had to be.
She moved to him and took him into her arms, and he folded into her
engulfing embrace, like a child coming home. His mouth found hers, and
her lips weren't enough. As if there was no other place it could be, his
tongue touched hers and filled her yielding mouth and could find no
barrier of resistance. She pushed her groin against his, and could feel
that hardness she had felt once before, long ago, and had wanted with all
her heart to feel again. Other new and wonderful emotions, sensations,
longings, surged through Jass as his mouth moved down to her neck, his
hands opened her bodice and her breasts were free to him, his at last
that he had only dreamed of, and the reality was sweeter than he could
have possibly imagined, He wanted the moment to peak now and to last
forever.
He looked down at her breasts and then up into her eyes, and seemed to
drown in them, but he knew the sea was deeper yet, and he had no desire
to escape his fate. He put his hand to her face, and the contrast in
colors shocked him, spurred him, inflamed him. It was what Wesley had
promised, the white and the black, all sensual texture and lustrous
desire.
He laid her down on the little cot, and lay astride her, kissing her
still. His hands caressed her thighs and found their way under her skirt
and petticoat by their own volition, it seemed, reaching upward, until
suddenly he found the hot, wet warmth of his goal. She had unbuttoned his
pants, and now he was free and it felt wonderful, flesh upon flesh, the
colors of it dazzling him, flawless white on exquisite black and he
wanted to lose himself forever in her sheening body.
Easter bit her lip in pain as he pushed inside her, ~pain upon pain, and
ever more pain, until she might have screamed for
344 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
him to stop, and then suddenly she exploded and there wasn't any more pain
and she felt him hard inside her and she cried out at the wonder of it,
rocking with him, meeting the thrust of his hips, until he cried out, and
she could feel him pulsing into her and she knew he had given her the
sweetest gift it was in his power to give.
When it was done, he stayed inside her for a long time, moving only a
little, to make them both more comfortable, side by side, still keeping
her in his embrace. Easter was not sure what to do; she didn't want to
move, but didn't know if he did, didn't know if it was her place, now
that it was done, to give him some indication that he was not under any
obligation to stay. She stiffed a little, as if to move away, but he
increased the pressure of his embrace slightly, and she knew that she had
no need to go, and that he had need of her to stay.
Moonlight bathed them, filtering in through the little window. They did
not speak, for there was nothing that had to be said. Their faces were
so close together she could feel his steady breathing, and she wondered
if he was asleep. Then she felt a tiny trickle of moisture on her cheek,
and she knew it was from him. She held him still, letting him cry,
letting him mourn his dead father and could not know that he wept as much
from joy at what he had found as grief for what he had lost.
When she knew he was not crying, she felt an urgent desire to express an
emotion, but it was one she had never experienced before, a tender,
dulcet emotion that began somewhere in the pit of her heart and drifted
out of her as a moaning hum that became a lullaby. It never formed into
a song, or any that she knew; there were no words to it, or none that
seemed necessary, it was only a sound, the gentle primal sound of a
mother lulling the fear of the dark from her child.
His breathing, already even, steadied some more, and he drifted to sleep.
Easter stayed awake for a while, lulling him still with the soft song.
The tears were still damp on his cheek, and she leaned to him, and kissed
them away with her mouth. She settled back, her head resting on his
shoulder, and stared at the vague outline of his face that the moonlight
gave her, and then dozed for a while. He moved in his sleep, rolled
MERGING 345
toward her, and she, only half conscious, moved with him, until her back
was pressed against him and she was gathered into his slumbering embrace.
Toward dawn he stirred, and caressed her gently, and she woke to the
hardness of him against her. She turned to him, and he stroked her and
kissed her, sweetly, gently, softly, for a while; then he moved astride
her and, without any urgency, went inside her again, to the place that
both of them wanted him to be.
42
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They became lovers in the purest sense, in that all they had was their
love. Their past was both a foundation and an irrelevance, and they had
no possibility of a future. All they had was now.
. They lived according to the manners and mores of their place and time-he
was Massa of a great estate and she his slave. Separately, they went about
their separate business. Except by chance, Jass never saw her in his other
life, but lived in the bosom of his white family, adjusting to his new
status, counseled by friends, besought by his father's associates.
Easter spent her life without him as though nothing had changed between
them, although the greatest change was in her. Secure in the knowledge
of his love, she lost all sense of jealousy or ambition. She had
everything she wanted; now was everything she wanted to be, except for
the one thing he could give that might make her life complete. Brought
up to a clear knowledge of the reality of her situation, she harbored no
ambitions to be mistress of the big house, for it scared her, had no
yearning for elaborate gowns or grand functions, or visits to other
places, for since her journey to Nashville, these frightened her too.
Alone among the slaves at The Forks of Cypress, and any others of her
acquaintance, she had no wish to be free-that was the most terrifying
prospect of all, because the
346 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
gain of it might mean the loss of something infinitely more precious to
her. Already she knew she could not have some of him, that other him, but
that was no more than she had always known. She knew he must be married
one day, to a white woman, but so strong was her love that this caused her
no concern. She had no desire to keep house for him, or care for him,
except in those few hours when he was hers, and then she was content with
as much as he was able to give. The only little gift she wanted from him
now was the simplest, cheapest, most dear thing it was in his power to
bestow: a child, not to bind him to her but to have a part of him, the
best of him, so that wherever he might go, even if he should, which she
did not for one moment consider, leave her.
They moved in parallel but separate directions, without the desire or
ability to acknowledge each other, to each ' other or to the world. But
late in the afternoon, he would come to her, and they would sit for a
time, often not talking, he in his old rocking chair, puffing on his
pipe, she at her loom, her senses reveling in the nearness of him, the
security of him, content with what she had, and when he did talk,
listening to his opinions or his problems or, to make her laugh, his
gossip, and she would offer advice if she felt able, and smile at his
jokes, and nurse his body or his heart if either needed attention. The
most precious time of all was the night, when their other worlds were
sleeping, and he came to the weaving house. It might have been the
smallest hovel of his kingdom, but it was the one place where he could
be free of newfound responsibility, the one place where the burden of
decision that sometimes he felt inadequate to bear was taken from him,
and he could simply be Jass again. So to him it was a castle, and she his
triumphant queen.
They told no one, but everyone knew. Cap'n Jack had not slept at the
weaving house the night old Massa died, for he knew Jass was there, but
had found a disused cabin at the slave quarters and had made it his new
home. Easter cleaned and sometimes cooked for him, or Tiara would, but
the new domestic arrangements were only occasionally discussed. At night,
when the slaves were gathered round the campfire enjoying the few moments
when they were their own masters,
MERGING 347
some of them would rib Cap'n Jack about his daughter and the Massa, but
Cap'n Jack only smiled, for everything was coming to pass as it should.
Some of the younger men thought it was an insult, the Massa taking
advantage of a slave, but their elders shrugged. It was, to most of them,
inevitable. Jass and Easter had been inseparable as children, and now, it
seemed, would be inseparable as adults, and as Tiara insisted, "it was
nat'chrel."
Sally thought it inevitable too, and said nothing. Despite any
reservations she had once had about the possibility of this relationship,
now she was glad of it. She had seen Jass take a premature leap from heir
to Massa, and saw that he was faltering, awed by the immensity of what
was now his, and the fact that he was finding some brief hours of
careless happiness each day, that he had a friend who expected nothing
from him, was sweet to her.
It was Sally who raised the question of college. They were at dinner, Jass
sitting at the head of the table, and the Trio were in a gleeful mood.
"But it isn't possible,' I Jass said. "There's too much to do here. "
Sally, watching him assume a role he was not quite ready for, didn't
agree.
"Nonsense," she said. "The plantation is running very smoothly. Mitchell
has things well in hand here, and Tom and I can make any major decisions.
With your authority, of course.
The Trio were all in favor, and dreamed of the devilment they could get
into if Jass were away.
"Of course, it's your decision," said Sally. "But I think it might be
good for you. It would give you"-she chose her words carefully-"
breathing space."
Jass was silent for a while, and toyed with his food. After the death of
James, he had abandoned the idea of college, believing it was his duty
to run The Forks of Cypress. But too often he felt overwhelmed by his
role. The holdings were so extensive, and so complex, he relied
completely on the advice of his mother, and his cousin (brother-in-law?)
Tom Kirkman,
348 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
or the overseer, and he wondered how his father had been able to keep
track of it all. Tom seemed to understand all the nooks and crannies, and
had suggested that when the prices were right, they reduce some of the
unwieldy estate. The plantation in Missouri was up for sale, and Colonel
Elliot had offered to buy the stud farm in Nashville. Tom took charge of
these negotiations, and often Jass felt as if he were in the way, or
unnecessary, but the responsibility for the many lives under his dominion,
and the ultimate right of decision, caused him sleepless nights. Sally
knew this, and believed that he had the right to the days of youth. A.J.
would have been well into his twenties when James died, but Jass was only
in his teens. She hoped that college would give him the respite that he
needed, allow him time to grow.
Jass was thrilled by the idea. He still had a young man's wanderlust, and
while New Jersey wasn't quite the same as California, at least it was a
journey. He knew a degree was completely unnecessary to his future, but
it might give him a sense of achievement. More than everything else, he
thought it would be fun.
"And you can take a slave," William said. "To look after you. I'm going
to take Ephraim when I go, to look after my horse. -
Then he remembered himself. "If that's all fight with you, of course."
Jass smiled his assent.
"You could take Easter," George giggled. "She'd really look after you."
"Don't be foul." Jass was stem, but amused by them. "Of course I'd take
Cap'n Jack."
"But what will Easter do for four years?" asked Alexander. "She'll get
awfully lonely."
"I could look after that," said William cheekily, and winked at his
brothers, who fell into fits of laughter.
His mother was furious. The relationship between Jass and Easter was
never discussed, or even mentioned, in the house. "If you can't control
your tongue, you'd better go to your room," she said.
"Sorry, Mamma." William didn't look remotely sorry, and George had the
devil in him.
"More to the point," he said, "what will you do about Lizzie?"
MERGING 349
Jass looked at Sally. He had no idea what he was going to do about
Lizzie, whether he went to college or not.
Lizzie was a major part of Jass's problems, for she had taken James's
death hard. He had come to represent the father figure she so sorely
needed, and she transferred many of her emotional requirements to Jass,
making demands of him that he was incapable of fulfilling. She wanted
paternal authority and youthful suitor all in one. She deferred to him in
all aspects, but constantly tried to exact decisions of him about her
life, which, Jass thought, were not his to make. She was forever offering
him unwanted advice about the plantation, and his affairs, and most of
all, his perceived position, until Jass could hardly bear to be with her.
Then she would change, or her idea of him would, and she would become the
coquette, the silly, flirtatious Lizzie of old. And this, compared with
the tranquil calm of Easter, was even more infuriating to Jass. Then she
might weep, and insist he didn't love her, which confused Jass since love