The Slave Master's Son (8 page)

“John Abraham Stewart, Junior! Damn you!” he yelled. John, without hesitation, walked swiftly up to his father. The two men stared each other down. John grasped the magnitude of the situation at hand.

“I knew it!” Master Stewart bellowed. “I heard you’ve been leaving Gayle alone at night. I went down to the river this evening and witnessed your dirty deeds for myself. I’ve concluded that my son has gone mad! You’re not taking care of home because you’re playing make believe with Hannah. John, you can’t have Hannah, and now you’ve soiled her – you’ve lessened her value. She doesn’t know any better. You, on the other hand, I had more faith in!” Master Stewart’s voice trembled with rage. Hannah raced to her mother’s side, clinging tightly and shaking with fear.

“I was waiting for this,” John said with a crooked grin. “I was waiting for the moment you’d have the nerve to confront me about my private affairs.”

“It’s not a private affair! Hannah is my property! You’re my son! After confirming my worst fears this evening, I’ve made up my mind. I’ve tried to avoid it, but you’ve left me no choice. You’ve neglected your wife, joined the Abolitionist movement, deceived me, and deflowered Hannah. Now you continue to seek her out without my consent. You’ve left me absolutely no choice! I must sell Hannah – tomorrow!” Master Stewart pushed his son aside and grabbed Hannah’s arm. Hannah screamed and twisted, pulling in the opposite direction.

“No! Please, Master Stewart! No! I won’t go to the river no more! Please!” Hannah begged, tears streaming down her face. Mary leaped out of bed, taking her daughter’s other arm.

“John – no – please! John – no!” Mary screamed as tears poured down her cheeks. “John, you promised me you’d never sell my baby!” Several lights came on in the house. Servants slowly stepped out of their rooms and looked up the stairs towards the bedroom. John had disappeared but quickly returned to the room, firing a single shot through the wall. Silence came over the room as everyone cowered.

“Let go of her,” he demanded. “You aren’t sellin’ anybody! She’s my wife – not Gayle. You made me marry Gayle. You never asked me who I loved – who I wanted! You want to make me as miserable as you are! You look at Mama Mary every day and want her but are too damn cowardly to do anything about it. Well, I’m not!” His anger rose from the deepest part of his soul.

 “This war is turning Richmond inside out. I won’t be here to witness it to the end. I’ll go further north with my wife where we can be left to live in peace! I refuse to be married to Gayle. I don’t care if her mother, father, grandparents, and the Lord himself come here to tell me otherwise. I won’t be forced into adultery. This isn’t about what you want anymore. This is my life, Father! You’ve already ruined yours – stop trying to ruin mine too! I’d rather be dead than be you!”

Master Stewart lunged towards his son. The two fell to the ground. The warm gun fell out of John’s hands and bounced across the wooden floor. They struggled violently, rolling back and forth. Mary held Hannah closely as the two women looked on. The servants quickly retreated back into their rooms, slamming the doors behind them. John reared his fist back, punching his father in the jaw twice, causing blood to draw on his lower lip.

“Stop!” screamed Hannah. Neither man heard her.

“You – you will do as I say!” Master Stewart said as he climbed on top of his son. “I should’ve always kept you and she separated! I should’ve known history would repeat itself! She has to go!” Master Stewart yelled before taking a few deep breaths. John knocked his father off abruptly. The two men struggled for the gun. Master Stewart kicked John in the eye, rendering him stunned. Master Stewart quickly got to his feet and grabbed the gun. He went back over to his son and laid his knee on his chest. In a calmer tone he spoke again. “You can’t resist her. I see you have no control over these desires. It’s not your fault,” he said, out of breath. Master Stewart stared into his son’s eyes, one of which was half-closed. John spit in his face. Master Stewart slowly stood to his feet, still gripping the gun with a shaky hand.

“Get up!” he yelled while wiping the thick trail of saliva off his nose and upper lip. John rubbed his chest and closed his eyes before standing. He looked over at Hannah who was coiled in a fetal position in her mother’s arms. His vision was blurred out of one eye. He struggled to focus.

“Mary, I’m not going to fight with you. You let go of that girl or someone’s going to get hurt, and it won’t be me,” Master Stewart panted as he walked towards her, keeping his gun raised in his son’s direction. Mary let go of Hannah’s arm, casting a look of hatred towards Master Stewart. Master Stewart pulled at Hannah. She clung to her mother’s gown, looking up at her, sobbing deeply.

“No, please don’t,” she woefully begged. Master Stewart uncurled her fingers, hoisted her by the waist, and headed toward the door while continuing to point the gun at his son. He made his way to an adjacent storage room. He opened the splintered, squeaky door and ushered Hannah inside.

“Go to sleep Hannah,” Master Stewart said coolly. “You’re leaving tomorrow afternoon. I’ll bring you breakfast myself in the morning.” He closed the door and locked it. He returned to John and marched him down the hall to another room at gunpoint.

“Get in there. If I don’t lock you away, you’ll find some way to derail everything. I’ll let you out after she’s long gone. When I do release you, be prepared to discuss how you’re going to rectify this situation with Gayle. I’ll let her know that you won’t be home for a while.” He closed the door and locked it. John stood in the middle of the dark, dusty room. There were no windows. He was trapped. He could faintly hear Hannah’s sobs which only served to fuel his anxiety. He felt as though he was having a heart attack.

“Hannah!” John screamed before falling to his knees. “Hannah, I love you! I promised you I’d take care of you. I will! Please – please don’t cry.” John wiped tears from his own cheeks, burying his head against the floor boards as his chest heaved with emotional pain. Hannah’s sobbing finally ceased as she succumbed to sleep.

* * *

CHAPTER 8

John wearily opened his eyes. His left eye was swollen, but the double vision was gone. Suddenly the door swung open. The light blinded John who’d been locked away without food or water for three days. His father stood silently, looking at his son. Master Stewart slowly entered the room, the sound of his boots drawing closer and closer until he finally reached his dazed son. He gently hoisted John onto his feet. Without speaking a word, he led him from the stale, empty room into the corridor, down the winding steps, and into the empty kitchen. John rubbed his eyes and looked around as he slumped in a chair. He realized it hadn’t been an awful nightmare after all. He called out, “Hannah!” and raced back up the stairs. The door to the room she’d been in was wide open. He stood in the doorway and stared into the empty space. He saw her plate and cup, still full of water and days-old beans she hadn’t touched. He slowly backed away from the door and returned to the kitchen where his father patiently awaited.

“You’re the Devil. You’re Satan incarnate. You took Hannah away from me. I despise you.”

“You, John, are like a wild horse. You have to be broken. I regret that those are your sentiments about me. Nevertheless, tell me how you’re going to heal your marriage,” Master Stewart said as he handed his son a glass of water.

“I know you aren’t going to tell me, but I’m going to keep asking. Who did you sell her to? Where is she?” John asked as he gulped down the water.

“As I told you, she’s long gone. It was for your own good. For what it’s worth, she’s with someone that’ll take good care of her. You’ll have your own family, and she’ll have hers.”

“What do you mean she’ll have hers?” John asked as he stood back up, slamming his glass down.

“I think you know what that means,” Master Stewart said sternly. “I’m lucky I got as much for her as I did considering what you’d done to her. Most of the plantation owners want their young female slaves to be virgins. She’s so pretty. That helped the situation greatly, and it was looked beyond. With her being young, fertile, attractive, and good with laundry, cooking, and ironing, she went for a pretty price. Despite her petite stature, she’s strong. She’ll make strapping children if mated with the right Negro.” John coughed and rubbed his eyes. He felt queasy.

“You’re going to go home and be with your wife now. You’re going to finish your degree and practice law. You’re going to give her parents and me grandchildren. I forgive you for what happened with Hannah. I know it was simply lust, and there was nothing you could do about it.” His father sipped a glass of water.

“It wasn’t lust, and you know it,” John said softly.

“Hannah didn’t possess the intelligence to grasp the situation. You took advantage of her and, as a result, hurt her more than you helped,” Master Stewart said sternly.

“Hurt her? Didn’t possess the intelligence? You speak of her as if she’s some brainless ape. She out fooled you on several occasions, most of which are times you’re still oblivious to! She’s not some imbecile, Father. I’d never be attracted to nor risk everything for a mere idiot. She’s a bright, beautiful human being with fears and dreams just like everyone else. I know you’re saying this to convince yourself more so than me. I know you too can’t help yourself,” John said with anger.

“John, you’re at the University and in the top of your class. What do you look like taking up with a Negro girl? You can’t have a life with her. She’d be unable to supply you with the things you need. My word – she can’t even read.”

John laughed. “She reads Shakespeare, Father. She can now read circles around anyone I know as well as succinctly articulate what the text relays. I taught her myself. She also knows addition, subtraction, multiplication, basic Physics and Chemistry, and is well versed in Geometry – her favorite since it aids her greatly in her most loved hobby, sewing.

You thought we were just two children running around playing when in fact we were falling in love a little bit each day as developing a teacher-student relationship – sometimes with my being the student. I educated her so that she’d never have to rely on anyone to survive ever again. I prayed for a day, like the one that’s soon to come, where she’ll be free to come and go as she pleases. We’re losing this war, thus, my prayers are being answered. Regardless, it’s amazing what the human mind is capable of when given confidence and guidance. You’ve underutilized her. And to think, all this time, she’s only been folding your knickers.” Master Stewart’s mouth opened as his eyes widened then turned to fuming slits.

“She and I’d read together almost every night,” John continued. “We read the bible together, too. What other assumptions do you have about my beloved that you care for me to debunk?” Master Stewart stood in the kitchen looking at his son coolly. His light blue eyes bore holes into John’s mind. At that moment, he had a mixture of disdain and admiration for his son.

“You’ve put her in grave danger, but, more than likely, you don’t care. If it’s discovered that she can read, she’ll be seen as a threat. You’re just like your mother,” he finally said, turning away to sit down in a nearby chair.

“How so?” John asked curiously.

“Rebellious, stubborn, daring, foolhardy, romantic and naive.” John looked at his father and nodded. “Father, I’m all of those things and more. If I don’t stand up for what I believe in, then my life’s meaningless. If I know in my heart and mind something to be true, then regardless of a law or lack there of, regardless of another man’s opinion of my choices, it won’t deter me or change my truth into their fiction. I refuse to take your torch. You’ve single-handedly crushed my dreams. You haven’t destroyed my love for her, but created a blockade to control me.

I believe a part of you wishes you could’ve done what I’m doing. My question to you is, ‘How do you sleep at night with Mary so close by?’ You watched your son make love to the daughter of a woman you covet. As unsettling as that thought is to me, I push it aside to say surely it must have struck a nerve in you that goes beyond what you believe is a violation of civility!”

“Shut your mouth!” Master Stewart demanded.

“Someone got to Mary before you could scribe your name on her flower,” John continued. “She’d already been plucked, which is, of course, the nature of slave women who fall victim to their lust-filled masters who believe they may take privilege in the humiliation and violation of a woman’s purity. When you degrade the slave woman and underestimate her value on the planet, as well as in God’s eye, it makes it much easier to eat her alive and not have a care in the world. Instead of you feeling sorrow for Mary’s misfortune, you felt overwhelming anger that you’d missed your window of opportunity to deflower her yourself and claim her as your own.” John smiled devilishly, his anger pushing him to continue with the cruel summary.

“Silence!” yelled Master Stewart. “Don’t speak to me that way! Your perverted thoughts and accusations are vile!” He stomped his foot on the ground.

“Why should I be silent, Father? I know what you desire. You wish for Hannah to be treated as Mary was, so that neither you nor I can experience completion of our heart’s longing. You wish for me to know personally of your pain. You say it’s for a noble cause, but it’s not. You selfishly don’t want me to experience what you always wanted. I’ll play your game, Father. Please know, however, that I’m a worthy opponent. I’ll fight you to the bitter end. This isn’t a threat. It’s a promise. Just when you believe I’ve forgotten about your misdeeds and appear settled in my domestic and vocational life, I’ll rise again like an eagle and strike suddenly like a viper slithering through the grass undetected.