Authors: K Martin Gardner
Major Baillie would say things like, “Black Jack, where do you come up with some of your ideas?”
The family would snigger and scoff in the next room.
"You handsome devil."
Said Black Jack as he reeled back to the present and took a final look into the shiny spoon.
He looked forward to the Reverend’s arrival.
Having to work on Sundays, he was unable to attend the valley's newly constructed church.
He had many unanswered questions about his spirituality that he hoped the good Reverend could help him with.
Black Jack went and changed out of his butler attire and into his field clothes, and he waited for the man of the cloth.
Black Jack was not serving the evening’s meal, so he would wait for the Reverend outside.
Riding upon a donkey, the Reverend arrived at roughly three ticks of the clock past half-past three; just in time for hors d'ouevres.
He was heralded by a bell tied behind the animal's ear.
Lone, low muggy clouds clung to the threatening sky.
Black Jack greeted the Pastor with a blanket and promptly ushered the covered burro to a stable stall.
Returning to the house, he saw the Minister speaking with the Major, a glass of champagne in one hand and a deviled egg in the other.
Black Jack went to his shack to retrieve his Bible.
There were so many things that he didn't understand.
He wanted to ask the Preacher.
His reading lessons with Baillie's daughter had uncovered so much within the scriptures, and yet the truth confused him.
He took up the Good Book and went to the yard, waiting patiently near the porch.
He paced as he practiced his questions in his mind.
He could barely hear what the Major and the clergyman were conversing on.
"What in the world is he doing?
I’ve never seen him act up like this."
Said the Major in a hushed tone, looking sideways toward Black Jack.
The Reverend followed suit. "Good Lord, is that the Bible that I gave to him all those years ago at Squeaker’s burial?
Has he even learned to read yet?"
The Major replied, "Well, my daughter has been teaching him a few things.
I don't know, he may have mastered the language by now."
He paused as the two held their pose of simulated conversation on the porch, ever watchful of the black man striding back and forth on the lawn.
The Major called out to Black Jack, "I do say, is everything all right, man?"
Black Jack stopped and turned.
"Yes, Sir.
I just need to speak with the Reverend about some things."
The two men on the porch exchanged puzzled looks. "What sort of things, Black Jack?
The Reverend and I are rather busy."
"Just some things, Sir. Important things."
The two on the verandah froze in their self-important poses for a moment.
Then the Reverend said, "I'll be with you in a moment, Black Jack."
The Major said, "I'm so sorry, Reverend, I don't know what this is all about."
The Reverend smiled and raised his hand. "It's quite all right.
I'll take care of it.
Just don't sit down to dinner without me."
With that, he walked down into the yard.
He said, "What is it, my son?"
"I don't know.
Lately I’ve been having trouble with my faith, Father."
"Your Bible contains all the answers that you will ever need, my son."
"But I can't read all that well, Father."
"Then you should come to church, my son.
All will be revealed in readings and sermons there."
"But I can't make it to church, Father.
My work don't allow it."
"Then you can always pray, my son.
The Lord will answer your prayers."
"Well, that is just it, Father.
Lately, I don't feel that he has."
"How do you mean, my son?"
"Well, take my life for example.
I just don't feel as though I’ve been rewarded with the things I deserve."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, look at me.
I’ve worked hard all my life.
I’ve been in this land since before most white people ever heard of it.
The handful of white folk who
were
here are all dead now.
And I'm not even considered to be a citizen, or allowed to own land.
I wanted to be someone too.
I ran away from slavery in my country, and now all I am is someone's house servant."
"Well, that is something, isn't it?
If you are comparing yourself to Major Baillie and the way in which he has been blessed, then you are comparing apples with oranges."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, the Major is a righteous man.
He gives a proper tithe to the Church, the one that he donated land, wood, and money to in order for it to be built.
He's a pillar of the community and the salt of the Earth.
That's why he's living large and reaping what he has sown in his mansion on the hill there.
It’s all a reflection of what God thinks of him."
The Reverend beamed as he looked dotingly up the hill at the Big House.
"Living large?
So you're telling me that I'm living in a tiny shack with hardly no money because God hasn't smiled on me?"
The Reverend’s look suddenly soured. "No, no.
That's not what I meant.
I'm saying that perhaps it is a spiritual problem on your part.
Maybe there is some sin that you are still guilty of that you haven’t confessed to God.
Perhaps you don't pray enough.
You’ve really got to get off somewhere all by yourself, away from all these people, and really spend some time and effort at it.
Have you ever tried that?
Maybe that is something you can work on in your spare time.
Perhaps you are working too much.
That can be a sin as well.
I don't know what's going on with you and this young lady, but I know it's improper for a man and a woman to spend time alone together where people can talk about it and bear false witness.
And lastly, it may just be yourself, Black Jack."
"What do you mean by
that
?"
"Well, Black Jack, the Captain is quite a refined gentleman of good breeding and manners.
He's a real people person with a great personality.
God likes that."
"So, without a personality, my spirituality is going to suffer, you say?"
"Well, aside from salvation, the Lord gives us Liberty.
After that he gives us talents.
For some it’s music, for others it's writing, and perhaps for a few it is the arts.
However, for a select group, the talent may be the ability to win friends and influence people.
God rewards those people; perhaps a bit more than ordinary folks."
"So, after all this time as a good person, I may still never be fulfilled spiritually because I don't have a dynamic personality?"
"That may be part of it.
I really don't have all the answers, Black Jack.
It is between you and the Lord.
If he has seen fit to make the Major your master, then it is up to you to be obedient. The Bible says that.
Besides, the Major, despite his wealth and prosperity, is just as accountable to the Lord as you and I are.
Your riches lie in Heaven."
"That is all well and fine, but what if I don't go to Heaven?"
The Reverend sighed. "That is between you and the Lord's grace, Black Jack.
It all goes back to what I was saying about sin.
Only you know what is in your heart.
I’ve heard some things about you, Black Jack.
I'll be honest; the Maori have spoken of things, which if true, would cast serious doubt on your chances, at least in my mind.
And then there's the Major's daughter.
I don't know what's going on
there
.
I know that if a man lies in sin with a woman that he may never wed her.
I might just count my blessings, if I were you, and be grateful for what little you do have.
You see, Black Jack, I think that I know your true personality; and now you may be getting just what..."
Black Jack could take no more.
They were standing by the corner of the house. He grabbed the Reverend by the collar and jerked him around the side of the building.
With a highly raised hand, he brought the heavy Bible swiftly and squarely down onto the preacher's nose, smashing it and causing it to bleed profusely.
Dropping the book, he clasped both hands firmly around the Reverend’s neck and began to shake him violently.
The clergyman turned purple.
Black Jack yelled, "You have absolutely no idea what the hell you are talking about!
Do you hear me?
You're not a man of God!
You're a farce!
Do you have any idea who I am and what I’ve done in my lifetime?"
The scuffle went on for several seconds.
Suddenly, the Major and some of his workers appeared. They struggled to pull Black Jack off of the minister.
The police were summoned.
The Reverend pressed charges.
Black Jack was arrested for assault and Major Baillie subsequently posted bond.
Upon hearing the testimony of each man, the Judge bound both parties over the sum of twenty-five pounds to keep the peace for six months.
Chapter 26
She always dressed formally when she came to call.
According to the custom of the day, that included a full blouse with bodice and hoop skirt, black, laced leather boots, and a bonnet with its assortment of fastening pins.
Being one of Major Baillie’s daughters, nothing less would be expected owing to her position in life and her status in the community, even if she were just tutoring cottagers on her rounds most Sundays.
Lessons always came after church. Depending on how many people had signed on for the day, they could last from mid-morning to late afternoon, with the compulsory break for lunch.
The Major’s daughter would start at the Big House with a round of chitchat and the obligatory ‘catching-up’ with her mother, father, and siblings; and they would discuss her travels and doings over the previous week.
Conversation would invariably turn to the arrangement of cottages scattered down the hill and throughout the valley, with mention of each occupant’s progress in the arts of reading and writing.
Everyone received the highest praise from their gracious tutor’s tongue, although she never admitted that certain persons’ attitudes and aptitudes rose above the others; or that certain students shone in her eyes brighter than others.
She was fair and impartial to the last, and no one was the wiser as to how well the others were doing, or how poorly as the case might have been; and she managed to instill a sense of confidence and accomplishment in all of her pupils as a result of her cheerful and generous nature, aside from her personal feelings.
In the course of conversation, however, it was understood that special mention be made of a certain favorite topic, that being one ‘Black Jack’ whose progress in the disciplines piqued a greater curiosity due to his unique character and personal standing with the family.
Black Jack had never learned to read and write, in all of his sixty-two years; even though his service in the local regiment as a mail carrier had required that he at least be able to scrawl his name.
But he had always wanted to read and write, he told her.
Since his escape so many years before, he had yearned to keep a journal of all the incredible things that he had become privy to as a free man; and with freedom should come education he had always thought.