Yellow Crocus: A Novel (21 page)

Read Yellow Crocus: A Novel Online

Authors: Laila Ibrahim

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“We gonna be a family now,” Samuel explained to his baby sister.

“We sure are,” Emmanuel agreed, embracing them all.

None of them wanted to stop talking and hugging to make their way to the wagon, but eventually they did.

“How you come to be lookin’ for me?” Mattie wondered as they traveled home.

“Mr. Mattox told me the fellow that was gonna bring you to us was being watched so he didn’ get you. They went a few days later, but you was gone. We figured you be somewhere in this forest and you’d come out if’n you saw it was me and James.”

“James!?” Mattie echoed, shaking her head. “It gonna take me a while to get used to our new names. Thomas, James, Georgia, and Jennie Freedman.”

“I like Jennie,” Emmanuel smiled. “You picked a fine name for the baby.”

“Hard to imagine, but she ain’t never gonna remember being Jordan.”

Chapter 17

 

SPRING 1851

 

L
isbeth’s twice daily ritual was unchanged though Mattie had been gone nearly two years. Gazing out the window in the early evening, Lisbeth watched as a storm of activity swelled up. In the distance she made out a group of four anonymous men carrying a collapsed person away from the fields. Rebecca followed close behind. As they drew nearer to the Quarters, Lisbeth realized that they were carrying Poppy. Too soon they disappeared from her sight and into his cabin. Lisbeth continued to watch out for some time but did not catch another glimpse of either Poppy or Rebecca before Emily arrived to dress her for supper.

Lisbeth nodded toward the Quarters when she saw her maid. “Poppy has collapsed. Have you any news?”

Emily shook her head and said, “Cook says they found him at the end of a row of plantin’. No one saw when he went down so no one know what happened.”

“Can he speak? Is he conscious?”

Emily shrugged.

The next morning Lisbeth watched for Poppy, but he did not emerge from his cabin. Rebecca went in carrying food and water before she went off to the fields. Over a breakfast of soft-boiled eggs, dropped biscuits, and peach marmalade, Lisbeth asked Mother if she should pay him a call.

“Whyever would he want to see you?” scoffed Mother. “He is an ill old man. Let him rest. He does not need a fourteen-year-old girl as his nurse. If they need our assistance the overseer will inform me. I am sure he will be fine with rest.”

“Mary goes with her mother to tend to ill slaves.”

Mother replied sharply, “Each plantation has its own ways. In Fair Oaks the overseer and your father take care of the field hands while Mrs. Gray and I see to the house. You are quite aware of our arrangement by now. We do not need you to tell us how to run the plantation.”

Embarrassed, Lisbeth changed the subject. “Mother, I saw the first crocus of spring yesterday. Can we have a picnic to celebrate?”

“What a lovely idea. Whom do you wish to invite?”

“I thought it would be for us, you and me, this afternoon,” Lisbeth said out loud, but in her mind she added,
Like Mattie and I used to do
.

“This is a wonderful opportunity for you to practice hosting,” Mother declared, ignoring Lisbeth’s suggestion. “We shall hold it a week from Saturday. Invitations can go out today. Ten days is adequate notice.” Mother went on, mumbling to herself, “A small group—a dozen at the most. All four of the Fords, Edward and Emma Cunningham, of course. I believe it would be in poor taste to pass over Camilla Anderson, so she must be on the list too. But we shall do our best to make certain she is paired with…Matthew Johnson.” Mother nodded confidently.

Mother then moved on to food. “What shall you serve?”

“Perhaps some fruit and cornbread.”

“Something nicer is in order—scones with clotted cream, pickled cucumbers…It is too soon for berries. Cook will have ideas.” Mother added, “What a wonderful plan, Elizabeth.”

Lisbeth did not reply. This was not her plan at all. She had hoped for a picnic with just her mother. But there was no point in saying so.

Ignoring her mother’s advice, Lisbeth went down to the Quarters at the end of the day, but Rebecca would not let her in to visit Poppy.

“He real bad off,” Rebecca informed her. “He ain’t sittin’ up or swallowin’. We takin’ care of him best we can, but…” Rebecca’s voice broke, and tears welled up in her eyes.

“What are you saying?” Lisbeth cried. “He is not going to die, is he?”

“Hard to know. Some folks recover from such things, and other don’. Just add him to your prayers, that about all we can do.”

“Does the overseer know? Is the doctor coming?”

“They ain’t gonna call the doctor for an old man. He already lived longer than most folks. Besides, ain’t much a doctor can do for him now.”

Lisbeth swallowed hard. “I can bring him some salt and sugar if it will help.”

Rebecca smiled at the young woman. “A little bit of sugar water might be just the thing his body need. You go get some from Cook and bring it down to me. I make sure he get a taste of it. You know how he loves sweets. That gonna be a nice treat for him.”

Though Rebecca did put a bit of the sugar on Poppy’s lips that evening, he was too far into the next world to taste it. He passed over in the night, carried along by prayers, with Rebecca at his side.

In the morning Lisbeth stood alone at the window. She saw Rebecca’s husband and sons, Lawrence, Henry, and Frank, carry Poppy’s cloth-bound body to the slave cemetery. Dirt was piled up by a gape in the ground, prepared to accept him into the earth. Songs and cries filled the air as dirt poured over his body. Marked by a cross of branches, Poppy’s grave rested between his wife’s entombed body and his daughter’s empty grave. After the burial was over, the mourners trudged to work.

As the mourners spread out into the tobacco plants Lisbeth spoke out loud. “Mattie, your Poppy died today. I thought you would want to know. Now he is going to watch over you with your momma. He was very sick. Rebecca and I tried to help him. I gave him sugar and salt just as you would have wanted. I am sorry.”

“What you say, Miss?”

Lisbeth turned her tear-streaked face toward Emily’s placid one. “I was not speaking to you. You may dress me now.”

 

Lisbeth was sullen when she saw the overcast sky on the morning of her picnic, but the weather transformed into a beautiful spring day, brightening her mood as well. Mother had made all of the arrangements, though she gave Lisbeth credit for it. Two days earlier at comportment lessons, Mother bragged to her peers, “Elizabeth planned every last detail of the gathering.”

As the first guest arrived Lisbeth told her mother firmly, “I shall take care of the picnic from here on.”

“Are you certain?” Mother inquired. “I am happy to supervise Emily while you enjoy yourself?”

Wanting to take on this responsibility, to prove to herself and to her mother that she was growing into a fine lady, Lisbeth insisted, “Yes, I am certain. Please, go inside.”

Excited and nervous, Lisbeth greeted her friends on the veranda. After all the guests arrived Lisbeth announced to the group, “I shall drive with Emily in the wagon with the food. Jack will lead the rest of you on a lovely walk along the river.”

Jack broke in, “Past the graveyards, oooh! You better be careful of the spooks—a fresh nigger is in the yard.”

“Do not mind him,” Lisbeth declared.

“Never fear, ladies, I will protect you,” Edward Cunningham shouted.

“Then you are all in trouble. Go home while you can. Stay away. Stay awaaaay,” teased Robert Ford.

Edward shoved Robert who collapsed to the ground. Rolling around, wrestling with an unseen ghost, Robert yelped, “Help me, Edward, help me. I am being attacked.”

“Enough, you two,” Lisbeth shouted. “Start walking.”

Mary Ford asked Lisbeth, “Shall I come with you to assist?”

“Yes, Mary. Thank you.”

Matthew Johnson spoke up eagerly, “I would be happy to assist you as well.”

“Thank you for your kind offer,” Lisbeth smiled at him, “but I believe Mary and I will be fine. You enjoy the walk with the others.”

From the wagon, Mary and Lisbeth waved to the energetic group of teens. As they drove past, Matthew nodded, but disappointment showed on his face.

“Matthew is entirely in love with you,” Mary declared when the group was out of earshot.

“I suppose,” Lisbeth replied. “He is very nice…but I am not in love with him. He will simply have to suffer. I am not certain why Mother put him on the list. Mother and Father have their sights set on either Edward or your brother, Robert, though they swore me not to tell even you.”

“It would be grand to have you as my sister. Do you fancy either of them?”

“Robert is amusing, and Edward is handsome, but so far I am not in love with anyone. I am still waiting for Cupid to shoot an arrow at me. Who do you fancy?” Lisbeth asked. “Jack perhaps? We would be sisters twice over if you marry Jack and I marry Robert.”

“Your brother is entirely too wild!” Mary laughed. “Not that mine are any less so.”

Lisbeth rolled her eyes and nodded in agreement. “Who do you fancy?”

“Daniel Bartley has the kindest eyes.”

“Oh, no,” Lisbeth declared, “if it is eyes you are after, Matthew’s are the loveliest.”

“You are wrong! Daniel’s eyes are the most lovely—such a bright blue.”

“I prefer Matthew’s hazel eyes. Much more interesting than plain old blue.”

Lisbeth instructed the driver to stop the wagon at a grassy spot just past the slave cemetery on top of a rise. They would have a lovely view of the James River for their meal.

Emily and the driver pulled out navy blue wool blankets and spread them on the bright green grass. The picnic basket they took from the wagon produced a delicious spread that included scones with clotted cream, crumpets, sweet potato buns, canned peaches, and pickled cucumbers. When they were finished setting out the treats they waited demurely on the blankets.

Though Lisbeth had imagined a mature, adult meal eaten in leisure and punctuated by quiet conversation, the boys had a different plan. They quickly devoured the food, hardly tasting it at all, before setting out to test their strength against one another. Drawing a circle in a patch of dirt on the ground, Edward shouted, “King’s Domain.”

Robert leapt up and yanked hard on Edward’s arm, unseating him from his “throne.” The boys lined up to play as the girls watched from the blanket and whispered to one another.

Lisbeth leaned in close to Mary, “Look, Daniel is trying to get Jack out. He looked at you to make certain you are watching.”

“He did it!” Mary clapped as Daniel pulled Jack out of the ring.

Daniel kept the throne through three more turns, but Matthew finally unseated him. Daniel smiled at Mary as he walked past.

“His eyes are definitely more beautiful than Matthew’s,” Mary whispered into Lisbeth’s ear.

“Absolutely not!” Lisbeth replied, smiling at her friend.

Mary’s other brother Albert took a go at Matthew, but walked away in defeat. Neither Jack nor Nathaniel Jackson were able to unseat him. Finally it was Edward’s turn.

“Watch how a true man does it,” Edward said as he strutted over to Matthew.

The two young men locked eyes. Matthew planted his feet wide and firm on the ground. He did not break eye contact as Edward grabbed his arm and gave a strong tug. Matthew did not budge. Edward pulled harder and harder, but still Matthew did not move. Though Edward was the taller of the two, Matthew was strong and muscular. Matthew’s legs shook as Edward used all his strength to pull. Matthew bent slightly at the waist, and a small smile crept over Edward’s face. Matthew suddenly bent over farther, throwing Edward off balance, and then pulled back quickly while twisting his wrist to break free of Edward’s grip. Edward stumbled backwards and nearly fell to the ground, but caught himself at the last moment by stepping back and crossing out of the boundary. He had lost the game.

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