Authors: Mercedes Keyes
is brows rose in surprise at the presence of the young girl, he had to blink to be sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. He stepped further into the corral to get a close
r look at her. Morris didn’t know what to do, feeling every eye on him…waiting.
“
Masta’ Morris.” Jordan started. Morris’s hand shot up to silence him. Jordan bit back and remained silent.
“
How can this be, how?” Morris finally spoke, unable to believe what he was seeing. He looked away from them to Jordan. “Who are they?” He asked quietly.
Nodding their way, Jordan answered, “I thank you know sa’. Them be yo’ grandbabies. Both ov’em. That be yo’ Manny’s boy, Mike, and the girl…she his Golden Hope…they mama, Ms Lena.”
Morris could only stare then slowly look back at them. Hope, feeling sorry for him, turned her brother's hand loose, took a deep breath, mustering her nerve; and walked up to him. “Hello grandfather… we’ve come – ho-...echm, back.” She started, staring into his eyes, then looking around her, wondering what to do…to Jordan, who nodded for her to continue. “I’m – your granddaughter. I wanted so much…to – come back here. Maybe – maybe find my mother here, or – my father. I’ve heard so much about you. Some good – and some… well – some bad.”
“
This will be your first time – seeing me; ‘cause well, my mama hid me away from you. Anyway, they’re not here…but – we thought, if it’s okay with you … we could stay a while? Maybe visit with you – get to know you, like we didn’t have the chance before. That is…if you don’t mind… that is.”
Morris couldn’t believe it. She’d called him grandfather.
Mike couldn’t believe it either, couldn’t believe that she’d stuck her neck out for this old man to cut. He was afraid of what he might say or do; if Morris hurt his sister after what she had just said; after meeting him halfway, which was more than he was willing to do; he’d make him regret it this time.
‘
The Lord works in mysterious ways.’
The time old saying came to Morris’s mind. For so long, he’d prayed and grumbled to the Lord for the day when he might be blessed with grandchildren. God being one to answer prayers of those deserving, never promised how they would be answered…question was, would one accept the answer? One thing he did know, as close as he was getting to the day he would be going to meet his maker, it didn’t make a bit of sense to start an argument with him now. He was being offered the opportunity to be a grandfather, and if he had to be honest…his son’s children…were handsome.
‘
Goddamn you – you win! Where ever you are Lena…I give in, I give in. And – where ever you are… I thank you…no not Lena ... Princess Ceś alena…I thank you.’
To Mike’s amazement, he watched Morris raise his hand, and slowly…
tenderly caress Hope’s cheek. A slow smile came to the old man’s face, a smile Mike had never seen directed at him, yet on his little sister, it was shining. “Your grandma Royal Sun … she would’ah been so proud of you, Golden Hope Webster … so proud.”
Hope’s eyes watered, as she surprised her grandfather by throwing her arms around his neck embracing him tightly.
“
Oh thank you…thank you. I was so afraid. So afraid you would be angry that we came back here. My brother thinks that you hate him.” She cried in a soft whisper in his ear. Morris let go of his walking stick and reciprocated.
‘
This cannot be the man who has rejected me at every point of my life here?! My eyes must deceive me?’
Mike thought. Finally Hope loosened her arms from around him and slowly backed away. “I fear you may have to go to him. I don’t think he’ll come to you.” She whispered fearfully.
Morris looked at her, exhaling and nodding. “So be it. He has his reasons.” He caressed her cheek once again saying before he turned from her.
“
You are your mama’s daughter. Never think I see a day when a wench…er…woman match her looks … you your mama’s daughter – oh what a fancy she was to see.” Un-willing to be offended by his half attempt at complimenting her mother, Hope smiled with a slight nod and backed away.
He turned from her and looked across the space that separated him from his grandson. Taking a deep breath, he mustered up his bravado and looked for his cane, about to bend for it, when one of the young slave boys stooped quickly to pick it up and handed it back to him. Morris gave a gentle nod of thanks and the slightest of smiles. He turned back to look at his grandson; and then slowly approached him, speaking gruffly, loud and bold.
“
Michael! Michael Ramsey Webster,” He stated with squared shoulders, head high… accepting and ready for this day. “I owe you a deep – and – humble apology. You are my son’s boy – just as my son, is my own. Standing here as you are, tells me you made up of all the stuff – I’m made of, your daddy made of. 'Cause if you wasn’t …you wouldn’t be here today.”
Morris swallowed. All remained quiet, watching him. “I did you a bad turn boy. I did. It was a terrible thing on my part …letting that man get a hold of you, take you from here in his wagon. I should’ah run’em down … and whipped’em t’death,” Morris sighed, feeling himself moved. He cleared his throat feeling it clogged with emotion. “He – he had a Webster in his wagon … I regret that. I regret that day, more - more than you will ever know.” He looked up at Mike, feeling his guts tie up in knots.
“
Anyway, the past
… well – it’s just that. I can’t undo it. Today, this right now, is a new day; a new night. I’m asking you to take it from here … with me, as your grandfather … if you will.”
Mike stood silently watching him, afraid to believe him …then he realized there was more than just him now to accept. He turned staring through the crowd looking for his son. “Esteban!” He called when he could see him. His son stepped out from other young men his age and approached his father. Mike took him by the shoulders and pulled him in close to his side before Morris. “Look at him Morris. Look at him long and close. This is my son. His name in Spanish is Esteban. English, Stephen Royale Webster.” Morris looked up stunned to hear that Royale was part of his name, and then with a nod he looked back down at him. He was dark and if the light wasn’t playing tricks on him…the boy had his blue eyes. Never had he seen such blue eyes on a Negro. Looking closer, an expression of surprise lit his features and he began to grin. Not only did the boy have his blue eyes but remove the dark skin and black hair, what remained were his very own features. The boy had more of his looks than Manny. Morris’s grin went up a level to a chuckle, from there to a laugh and suddenly an outburst of laughter so strong it brought tears to his eyes.
Those around him thought he’d lost his mind. Esteban looked up at his father quizzically. Hope didn’t know what to make of it either. Then Morris said to the heavens with his fist raised. “Lord! You sonvagun! You got me good! Didn’t you Lord! Royal?! Damn you…I know this yo’idea - I just know it! She always did have the last word.” He finished turning to Mike again.
“
Well boy … he it?” Morris asked indicating Esteban.
“
No sir…there’s more.”
“
Well bring’em on boy … you slow.”
Mike felt a tickle that made a grin come to his mouth as he gestured with the toss of his head, for his other children and wife to come forward. They all gathered in front of their father, Maria by his side. Morris stood and looked them all over, one by one.
“
Goddamn a’sortment'ov'em aint' it?" He muttered, those behind him chuckled. "What’s your name boy?” He asked Papo gruffly.
“
Papo, sir.” He answered nervous.
“
That ain’t your name boy…what’s his name?” He asked Mike.
Mike gave the old man his first slight smile. “Tell him your real names children.” He ordered in the tone that indicated no nonsense.
“
My name, Alaric Jordan Webster, sir.” Papo informed him to the surprise of Jordan standing by.
“
And yours lil’gal.”
“
Lolita Ander Webster, sir.” She whispered wide eyed.
“
You next.”
“
I’m Felix!” He shouted gruffly back at Morris.
“
Felix!!” Three adults shouted to correct him.
“
Simeon Leon Webster…sir.” He finally added lastly.
Morris grinned, looking up at Mike. “This one, he like me – you better watch him.” He bragged, then turned to wink at Jordan. Those watching loosened up as soft laughter and some sniffles swept over all turning the mood back to one of cheer.
Mike picked Celina up so that she could see her great-grandfather. Morris stared at her a moment, then held his arms out to her.
“
Come here gal.”
Celina looked up at Mike.
“
Don’t look at him. That’s just your daddy…I’m your great-granddaddy…come on here.” Mike handed her over to him.
Morris held her, looking into eyes as gold as her grandmothers. The look she returned was full of trepidation.
“
Come now…you don’t fear me. Your grandma never did. You know who your grandma was?” He asked.
Celina nodded, and answered in her tiny voice. “She, Lena.”
Morris shook his head. “Nooo chile…not just Lena. Your grandmamma …was a Princess! I know, 'cause I won her, in a poker game … she was worth more, than everything on that table – then he give her up to me, hoping to win the pile and her back. He didn’t, he lost the lot and I got it. At the top of that pile, sat - Princess Ceś alena! The moment I laid eyes on her…I knew…I knew – change was gone come – to Webster Fields … and sure’nuff it did. She was one – haughty, proud wench… yes she was. Wasn’t she Jordan?” He asked the trusted overseer.
“
Yes sir, she sho’was! Everybody here know’ha, know it’s so!”
“
See, every man lay eyes on her, want her, but none could have her. She belong to my boy. Now, I’m gone ask you your name again little girl, and I want you to tell me…like you is your grandma’s chile.”
Celina shrank unsure of what he wanted.
“
Here now…she wouldn’t have done that. Square your shoulders. Do it.” He commanded. She did as best she could. “Now stretch that neck… wa-a-a-ay up high…like this.” She mimicked as best she could.
“
Nose in the air…arrogant and royal…like this … like your grandma would'dah done.” She followed suit.
“
Now in a voice loud and bold…tell me your name.”
“
Celina – Huebana – Webster!” She shouted.
Everyone present laughed
.
But Mike, he stood fighting back tears.
“
That’s right, and me…I’m your great - granddaddy. You hear, all of you… I’m your great - grandfather… and it’s long overdue for me to say, welcome home!”
Sniffles were coming from behind Hope as she too wiped her eyes. Morris looked up at Mike. “Welcome home boy. I thank you… for giving me this, I thank you.”
Maria turned into her husband’s side sobbing. She was so overcome, knowing what it meant to him. Mike hugged her, kissing the top of her head. Morris turned to the crowd with his granddaughter in his arms.
“
What the hell wrong with you all?!”
Everyone stopped stunned, not understanding. “Can’t you see my grandson done come home…bring his family, my great-grandchildren, my granddaughter too! Don’t yah’ll know how to celebrate!! Lookin’ like a mighty sad affair to me! You some borin’ folk…I mean make some noise…I want Royal t’hear!” Morris commanded and all jumped up with a cheer, doing just that.
Morris stayed out the entire celebration…eating things he would not ordinarily eat, drinking corn whiskey, and telling his great-grandchildren tales of their grandmother and great-grandmother. He told them stories of his travels, stories of their grandfather’s voyages. All about his encounters with the Indians, of their great-grandmother’s bravery and how her sister stayed loyal by her side until the day she died.
Tales of how Kayleen fell for an Indian, but was too devoted to Royal to leave her side for him for even a moment. How the Indian tried to force her to leave with him and she had to beat him up to chase him off. He told them of the child she bore that died and how she took her sister’s son to her, loving him as if he was her own. Upper most, he explained the valuable lesson on how family loyalty was absolute.
That night changed many opinions of Morris from the slaves point of view. Whoever lacked respect for him up to then, gave it ten fold that night. Morris insisted they stay in the mansion to live during their visit. He tried everything to talk them into staying. Forcing Mike to explain about the responsibility he had to the people he’d left behind. Morris gave in for the time being, reveling in their presence and the noise of his great-grandchildren racing through the house; enduring their constant requests of him to tell them more stories, filling the requests tirelessly. Morris also arranged a meeting in town with Charles, taking Mike to meet him.
Their visit centered on Charles drawing up legal land titles for Mike, giving him full ownership immediately of Morris’s land holdings in Lake Charles, Louisiana. He also settled him with a large draft of money so that he was completely independent, with a good start to finance all they would need once he took over the property. After spending several hours there talking about the options with Mike’s mixed background, they figured he would be safe owning the Lake Charles property because no one there knew of his Negro parentage.
Just in case, it took Charles and Morris another half an hour to get Mike to accept a false birth document. Which made Morris and Royal his parents, instead of his grandparents. This would easily convince anyone due to him looking so much like Morris. Mike argued, “What about my children? What about my wife?”
Louisiana being more French influenced gave him more leeway where they were concerned. Morris also hinted that it would be wise on his part to hire reinforcements once he moved on the land and began generating income. Business completed, they invited Charles and his family out to spend the holiday with them. On the way back to the plantation, Mike and Morris had a very long talk, with Mike learning bits and pieces of truths from Morris that helped him understand his father even more. Consequently, with all things having taken place, Mike still felt it the man’s job to make the right choice, that being - you stay true to those you love. As his grandfather stated, loyalty. It was his father’s lack of loyalty to him, and to his mother, that he could not so easily forgive.
Putting thoughts of that behind him, he began thinking about his family and what lie ahead for them. He recognized the fact that there were going to be times when they would have to tread cautiously.
For now, he was overjoyed, because he was in full possession of 120 acres of land with a well-built colonial style home/plantation. Morris informed him, that of course there were no servants or slaves present, just a caretaker but that could easily be remedied.
This was of little or no consequence to Mike…life was changing – for the better, finally. His current agenda was to enjoy the time they spent at Webster Fields. While there, Mike found himself staring often at the beautiful portrait of his grandmother, Royal. His wife, Hope and the children also spent some time gazing at her. As they did so, wishing they could have met and known her –but it was not meant to be. None could deny her beauty, her legendary kindness, nor her disregard for white society and their ceremony for convention. Celina and Hope were especially taken by her.