Authors: Patricia Hagan
“Did he have another stroke?” April leaned forward anxiously, ripping the arms of the chair as Zeke kept a watchful eye. “What have you done to him, Vanessa?”
She shrugged. “Naturally he demanded to know what
I
was doing back here, so I told him how he’d raped you and you’d run away, filled with hatred and shame. He started screaming and yelling and then fainted. He’s been like he is now ever since. Yes, I guess you could say he had another stroke or whatever.”
“You heartless bitch!” April moved so quickly to sling the brandy that Zeke was unable to stop her. Vanessa shrieked as the liquid hit her full in the face at the same time Zeke backhanded April and sent her reeling to the floor. He reached down to grab her and yank her back up into the chair. April cried, “You’re going to pay for this. Both of you. How could you do it?”
“Shut up!” Vanessa’s eyes glittered as she clenched the edge of the desk with quickly whitening fingertips. “Pinehurst is mine now. The war may hold things up a bit, but it’s going to be the finest plantation again one day. Until then, I’m holding onto it.”
“Look around you, Vanessa. It’s falling down. How can you keep it from falling to ruins? Why don’t you just get out and let me care for Poppa? He can’t live much longer in his condition. Why do you want to keep twisting the knife and torturing him?”
“He didn’t mind torturing me all those years he blamed me for Mother’s death. The old fool!” She spat the words. “Do you honestly think I don’t want revenge on the both of you? I have it now, dear sister, and no one questions me. When the good neighbors heard what Poppa did to you, they praised me for returning to care for him—him being completely insane, of course. They think I’m marvelous to be so forgiving after the way he drove me away.
“And we’re not completely in ruins,” she continued excitedly, confidently. “The hands are making the fields ready for spring planting. There will be a good crop of cotton this year, and even if there isn’t, there’s money to tide us over, because I sold those valuable horses of Poppa’s for top prices.”
She leaned forward to stare right into her face. “So don’t get your hopes up, dear sister. I’m going to survive. The sooner Poppa dies, the better. He’s only in the way…like you. But I’m going to take care of
you
quickly enough.”
April knew that her only hope was Uncle James, but it would be several days before he arrived. “When do you plan to have me sent to the monastery?” she asked quietly, trying not to sound as desperate as she felt. Time was her only weapon. “I’m very tired. I’d like to rest.”
Vanessa nodded, then took a few steps to the long braided bellcord which hung by the door and gave it a quick yank. “I’m not totally heartless, April. I’ll see that you’re fed before you’re taken away, and—”
Posie appeared in the doorway. When she saw April, her eyes widened and she screamed and ran for her with outstretched arms. Zeke was quick to step between them and stop the embrace, and his elbow caught the old Negro painfully in her bosom. She staggered backward, clutching herself and moaning as April threw herself at Zeke, clawing, scratching, screaming her rage.
“I’ve had about enough of you,” he muttered, slapping her once, twice, then doubling up his fist and drawing back his arm just as Vanessa told him to stop. “Leave her be, Zeke. I’m getting a bit tired of all this drama.” To Posie she said, “Get hold of yourself. This isn’t a family reunion. Get out to the kitchen and get April something to eat. And be quick about it.”
With a muffled sob, Posie ran from the room.
April covered her stinging face with her hands, glaring at the two of them. “You’re both going to pay for this. Somehow, someday, I’m going to get you both—”
Again they shared laughter.
“Let me break her,” Zeke snickered. “Just give her to me for the night. I guarantee that by tomorrow morning she’ll be cowering as a whipped dog—”
“Aren’t you forgetting something, Zeke?” Vanessa whipped her head about to stare at him with rising fury. “You sleep with
me.
Not my sister. You lay one hand on her
that way,
and I’ll cut your throat.”
Zeke’s face paled. He fully believed her. “Baby, I meant I’d beat the hell out of her. You know I didn’t mean nothing else.” He laughed nervously. “Hell, I sure ain’t never looked at another woman as long as we been a-doin’ it.”
April looked away in disgust. To think Vanessa could actually sleep with that filthy creature—it made her sick to her stomach. Vanessa sensed what she was feeling. “Don’t you go acting high and mighty and sitting in judgment of me. If Rance Taggart won you in a horse race, and considered you his property, then you haven’t come home a virgin after all this time…if you even were one before you left.” She looked to Zeke, who obligingly joined her in a snicker.
Time. April kept reminding herself that she had to stall for time until Uncle James arrived. “Will you allow me to rest for a few days? I don’t feel well. It was a terrible journey.” She pressed her fingertips to her forehead, feigning sickness.
“I want you out of here as soon as possible, before anyone sees you. Zeke, take her upstairs and lock her in her room. I want you to stand guard outside all night, and I want Whit to post himself below should she get any ideas about climbing from her portico.”
Zeke advanced toward her, but April threw up her hands to fend him off. “You can’t send me off with this…this monster again. Do you know he tried to rape me before? Whit stopped him…”
“Aw, she’s lyin’,” Zeke whined, looking to Vanessa for understanding. “She knows you an’ me are romancin’, and she wants to make trouble. Don’t believe her. She’s too prissy. Who’d want a cold fish like her, anyhow?”
“You would,” Vanessa said coolly. “You’d hop on any woman, Zeke, and you and I both know that.”
She looked at April once again. “I’ll decide what’s to be done with you by tomorrow morning, but you can rest assured that this time you
won’t
be coming back. Get her out of here, Zeke.”
April struggled in vain as he once more twisted her arm up behind her back. He pushed her along up the stairs, and when they were halfway up, Vanessa called out softly, “Don’t get any notions about making noises to wake Poppa, April. He can’t help you, and you’d only upset him.”
Once inside April’s room, Zeke slung her across the bed. “I’m gonna tell you somethin’, bitch!” he whispered raggedly, pointing an unwavering finger as he towered above her. “I’m gonna have some of you, and this time ain’t nobody gonna be around to stop me. I’m gonna have you till I get my fill, and you’re gonna pay for acting like you was too good for me.”
“You filthy bastard!” April gave her long hair an insolent toss. “If my sister finds you desirable, then she has a taste for horse manure.”
His face contorted with fury and he raised his arm to strike her. She shrank away, but then he lowered his hand, smiling with the satisfaction of a man with the upper hand. “Naw, I ain’t gonna bruise you. Might make your sister mad. There’ll be time for taming you later, you little spitfire. That’s one bet I
will
win.”
He turned, then paused at the door. “Remember. I’ll be right outside all night long. Don’t get no ideas.”
April let her breath out, relieved that he was gone. With the door closed, the room was plunged into darkness. She fumbled about on the bedside table till she found the sulfur matches, then struck one to light the oil lamp. Glancing about in the mellow glow, she saw that not much had been changed about her room. The perfume bottles were absent from the dresser, but she was not surprised. Vanessa had always resented Poppa importing expensive French perfume for her. She had tried to share, but Vanessa would smash the bottles, so she had finally given up.
She got up and walked over to the chiffonier and opened the drawers. Some of her nicest nightgowns were missing, along with delicate lace chemises. An inspection of her wardrobe closet disclosed that several expensive gowns had also been removed. She didn’t bother to look in her jewelry chest, for Vanessa would surely have taken any valuable pieces. This brought to mind the treasured locket left with the cipher clerk in Sylacauga. Now it was his, she thought sadly.
A key clicked in the lock, and she looked up, expecting to see Zeke. Instead, a quick flash of anger made her stiffen as Mandy walked in, head bowed, a tray clattering in her trembling hands. “What are
you
doing here?” she snapped bitterly. “You’re about the last person I want to see.”
“Yes’m,” Mandy murmured, setting the tray down on the bed. “I reckon you hates me, and I reckon I don’t blames you. I didn’t want to come up here, but Miz Vanessa, she sent fo’ Posie.”
“Well, just get out!” April struggled to keep her voice down, for she wanted to scream at the little black girl. “I don’t want to see your face ever again.”
“Yes’m. I’m sorry.” Mandy turned and shuffled toward the door, shoulders stooped. “I’m real sorry, Miz April. Don’t blame you fo’ hatin’ me one bit. Not one bit a’tall.”
“Wait,” April called. “Don’t go. Come over here.”
She sat down on the bed and removed the linen cloth from the tray, looking hungrily at the plate of cold fried chicken and sweet potatoes. Posie had also sent a cup of steaming, herb tea and a dish of fig cobbler. She nibbled on a piece of chicken, keeping her eyes on Mandy, who stood before her fidgeting and twisting her white apron in nervous hands.
“I didn’t know,” the girl whispered miserably, tears trickling from her eyes. “I just didn’t know. Miz Vanessa, she made me think she only wanted to help yo’ daddy, and she made me feel sorry fo’ her, gettin’ beat and run off like she did. But it just didn’t work out like she said it would.”
“What has it been like, Mandy?”
She hiccupped, then said, “She’s mean to ever’body. You remember Lolly? She beat her so bad she lost her baby, and then she run away and drowned in the river. Some o’ my people say she kilt herself.”
Mandy covered her face with her hands and began to sob loudly.
April quickly told her to quiet down or Zeke would make her leave. “I’s so sorry…” she hiccupped over and over. “Oh, if only I could undo what I did—”
April felt a flash of hope. “Would you help me escape?” The aspiration left her as quickly as it had come when she saw Mandy’s reaction upon her face.
She shook her head. “They watchin’ you close. If I was to try and help you, they’d kill me. Anything but that, Miz April. Please don’t ask that o’ me.”
“Well, then,” she sighed, “could you at least tell me how Alton reacted to the message he thought came from me?”
Mandy stared at her feet. “I couldn’t read it, Miz April. I gave it to him and left. Ain’t heard nothing, either. Miz Vanessa don’t allow none o’ us to leave the plantation, and she don’t let us talk to nobody what comes here. Not that anybody evah comes. We just does our work and tries to stay out of her way.” She made a clucking sound and murmured, “She one mean woman, she is.”
April pressed her weary brain. She dared not confide in Mandy that she was expecting Uncle James.
“Mandy, I don’t hold any hope of escaping this time,” she finally, said, “but if anyone
ever does
come looking for me, anyone at all, would you at least try to find out where I am and tell them? Could you try to do just that much for me?”
“Yes’m, I’d try.” Her curly head bobbed up and down. “I sho’ would find a way to do that. I promise.”
April continued to eat while Mandy spoke in whispers, telling her what little she knew. Then the door opened suddenly and Zeke stepped into the room to snap, “Okay, get that tray and get out of here, nigger. You ain’t supposed to be in here gossipin’.”
Mandy looked terrified. “Yassuh, yassuh,” she said quickly, looking at April’s tray in hopes she had finished. April handed it to her, and she turned to scurry out, not looking at Zeke.
When they were alone, Zeke stared at her with hooded eyes, as though he could see her naked beneath her dress. She faced him arrogantly, silently. Finally, he twisted his lips in a smirking grin and whispered, “How did you get away from Taggart? I’d really like to know.”
She did not reply.
He took a step closer. “Tell me. Was he any good? I mean, did he make it good for you? Did you bounce all over the bed and cry and carry on ’cause it felt so damn good? Or did he just jump on top of you and grunt off his pleasure and not give a shit if you was pleasured.”
“You are disgusting!” She spat the words.
“He couldn’t have found you too good,” he sneered. “Or he never would’ve let you get away. I imagine it’d take a lot of fuckin’ to teach you how to really please a man. Maybe Taggart didn’t know how. Maybe he knows how to ride a horse but don’t know a damn thing about ridin’ a woman. Maybe—”
She interrupted to cry, “Maybe you just have a filthy mind and a mouth to go with it. Maybe if I scream loud enough Vanessa will come in here and shut you up! I doubt that she wants her lover talking this way to her sister—”
“Shut up!” he snarled, lowering his voice and looking over his shoulder nervously as though he expected Vanessa to be standing in the doorway. Then he turned to stare down at April once more, lips curled back in an angry grimace. “I just wish I’d taken the time to lay you proper before I turned you over to Taggart. But I’ll have my turn. You wait and see!”
He left her, and she felt only relief when the door closed, and she heard the sound of a key in the lock. She found one of her own gowns and changed, then extinguished the lantern and crawled beneath the down comforter.