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“What’s this?”
“To protect you,” Lizzie said gravely. “You might not be able to get the one ya’ want but ya’ can certainly keep away the one ya’ don’t.”
Jeyne obediently put the roughly carved talisman around her neck after studying it closely. It was heavy and crude. “Mama, how you able to see all these things?” she said, caressing the piece gently.
“I don’t know, chile. It’s a gift...and a curse. Sometimes you see things you’d rather not. Cmon, let’s get to bed. We gotta long day tomorrow.”
Later that night, Jeyne had a vivid and disturbing dream. She was standing at a church altar with Thomas, about to exchange vows while hundreds of people watched – whites, blacks, even free men. They stared on in silence as she and Thomas stood before a tall, sober-looking preacher. Jeyne looked down at her gown and saw she was dressed in all black – even the bouquet of flowers in her hands were black. Yet, colors didn’t matter to her somehow because Thomas was standing beside her.
He turned to face her and lifted the black veil from her face. He bent to kiss her, but just as he did so, the guests in the church turned into an angry mob. They charged the altar, barely giving Thomas and her enough time to escape into a wooded forest. They ran hard and fast but the mob stayed closed behind.
In her panic, Jeyne fell in a bramble of bushes. She tried to untangle herself but the more she tried, the more difficult it became to get loose. She looked up and saw men and woman all around her, their faces filled with menace and hatred. She called out to Thomas but he did not answer nor did he appear. The crowd was pointing sticks and rifles and poised to throw stones...
Jeyne sat up in a panic, the sweat clinging to her face and chest. She looked over and saw her mother sleeping on the straw mattress next to her. Her fingers found the talisman and laid back down. After some time, her breathing calmed. After all, she reminded herself, it had only been a dream.
Chapter Fifteen
The heat was merciless, but making his way to the tool shed, Willie told himself he could take it. If he could endure the pain of Jeyne’s rejection, this ‘ol Louisiana sun was nothing. He needed the quiet and coolness of shed, if nothing else but to take a break from his thoughts and the drudgery of the day’s work. But as he got closer to the door, Willie stopped. The sound of loud and ragged noises met his ears. Willie cocked his head in intense curiosity.
Now, who is dat?he thought.Dey don’t need to be doin’ dat dis time of the day.
Hearing the ragged sounds of sex made Willie think of Jeyne all over again. He stood there for a few more minutes and started to rub himself. But doing this only made him sad, a sadness that turned to irritation as the grunts continued. Willie needed to get on with his business and get the tools he needed.Fuck it, he thought.Dey need to be workin’ anyway.
Willie opened the door and barged in, “Damn nigga, I ain’t got all day—”
It took a minute for Willie’s eyes to adjust to the dark room, but once they did, he immediately realized that he had stepped onto a hornet’s nest of trouble.
The rest of Willie’s words got caught in his throat as he saw the scene in front of him. A man was moving violently on top of a young female, his dirty pants bunched up around his ankles. All Willie could see of the girl was her thin, brown legs. The man turned his head and gasped when he saw Willie. He quickly threw himself off the girl who Willie recognized as Bessie, the twelve-year-old daughter of a house slave.
“Stupid nigga!” Keegan yelled. His dark, thinning hair was drenched in sweat. “Why ain’t you out there mindin’ the other niggas?”
Willie found he could not move nor speak. “You got a problem with this here, boy?” Keegan demanded, as he buttoned up his pants.
Out of the corner of his eye, Willie espied a large shovel, a perfect weapon to end the drama before it started. Killing the second most important person on the plantation was just another form of suicide, but Willie was ready for the showdown. He just hoped it wouldn’t last long.
“I asked you a question,” Keegan slurred as he lumbered towards Willie, his body reeking of whiskey.
Keegan spat at Willie’s feet through yellow, crooked teeth. Bessie made a run to the door but Keegan caught her by the arm. “No, you little bitch, I ain’t done with you,” he said pulling her towards him.
“Suh, Massa was looking for you,” Willie said as evenly as he could.
Keegan’s face fell. “How’d he know I was in here?”
“He don’t. He just said to look for ya’ on my way to get some more tools and—”
Keegan struck Willie on the side of the head. “Only I tell you what to do, ya’ hear me!” Keegan said, his tone vicious and ragged. “Looks like you need remindin’ whose boss ‘round here.” Keegan jerked Bessie’s small arm. “What you think, Bessie? Should I beat your ‘ol boy Willie here?”
Bessie’s face was etched with fear. She tried to speak but no words came out. “Whip him?” Keegan said, leaning his ear into Bessie. “Is that what I heard? I think Bessie said to whip you, boy!”
Without warning, Keegan flung the young girl onto the hard cement floor. She winced in pain and Willie made a move to help her up, but Keegan blocked his path.
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” he said.
Willie stood up straight. Clearly, the insults had worn thin. Bessie, finding her moment, went running for the door.
“Come back here!” Keegan stumbled after her, but Willie tripped his feet.
Enraged, Keegan grabbed the long, black leather whip that he had left on the table, and raised it high. It was, Willie realized, just between the two of them now.
