Princess Ces'alena (Webster Fields) Page 11

  He could only imagine what they were saying about him, but then… he didn’t care. Scratching his belly…he walked across the yard heading for the out house, the growing coil of tightness that had been increasing over the last two days, suddenly, mysteriously - gone. He felt loose – free, he felt good, happy. A smile from thoughts of her lit his young features…eager for the next contest between them.

  In the weeks that followed, Lena was taught all she needed to know in the running of the mansion. Morris and Manny’s favorite foods and how they should be prepared. To her dismay however, the longer she stayed, the more so she feared never being able to get away, and if she did, of being found. True to his word, Manny had no intention of letting her go, or leaving her alone for that matter. He failed when it came to her. Failed to maintain the pattern of hitting it once and leaving it. She was like an addictive drug, that no matter what…it would not leave his system, but demanded another fix, and another, and another.

  Each time he tried to deny himself her, his treacherous soul turned on him, demanding to be temporarily quenched of the need. A gnawing, aching tension would build in him until he sought her out. Every time he gave in, he promised himself it was the last, but the last never came. Almost everything she did set him off…everything she was, set him off. He was completely out of control; now, it didn’t matter where they were when he took her to Lena’s dismay. If no one was around, and he knew he had a few precious moments to have her…he would have her. Whether that be in the kitchen against the wall…in his study on the sofa…in the corner of the wine cellar, or on the kitchen table. Another place he sought her out, was by the pond where he’d caught her bathing, “No! Go away – you will not!” She’d shout at him, knowing what little good it did, like an animal on the prowl, eyes like a wolf, his assault was instant. He could not get enough, and soon gave up trying.

  Understandably, it was to no surprise that within a couple of months of being there, she was with child. Highly emotional, afraid and uncertain, a combination of things made her attempt to run off again. Especially when she heard the murmurings of the other slave women whom he’d bedded in the past, stating it wouldn’t be long now before he grew tired and left her be. Shame so painful shot through her; she was nothing more than a means to his pleasures. King LuMaden’s daughter, reduced to a lowly bed-wench… there was also another source of her pain and shame, but she didn’t want to admit to that one…it could keep her from her goal. This time when she ran, there were reasons that made her determined. The child she carried must be born free, and perhaps… she could somehow find a way back to her father.

  Maybe if she promised someone with a ship a great reward for her return, they would get her back to Makia, and her father. So much was going through her mind, how would her father receive her…that she was swelling even now with a child that he might reject due to the shame her state could present. She couldn’t think about that, and trying to revert her thinking, her mind brought up reflections of the months as Maynard Webster’s bed wench, those first couple of weeks, where discomfort still came with his entry. But it always turned to pleasure; a sweet torment that shook her soul and turned her inside out, making her momentarily forget her shame, as he trampled her pride. She had to stop thinking about him…his touch, the way she felt now.

  The goal was freedom.

  However, she learned something in her second attempt, about herself, and about Maynard Ramsey Webster. Even though her plan left him searching for her a bit longer because she found a tree to climb and hide out in as he searched, not realizing she was right above him quietly waiting for him to move on. Problem, he could not stop; would not stop! At all cost, he had to find her.

  A couple of times he was tempted to turn back and call the overseers for help…but he didn’t want them, nor his father knowing she’d run off again. It was a blow to his pride that even now, she could still find the strength in her to deny him. He didn’t understand her, but what he did understand about himself was…he needed her. He was willing to accept that she might always reject his initial touch, just as long as he could feel the pleasure course through her body, as well hear the cries of her passion at the end. Onward he rode upon his roan, carefully tracking her progress - now confused that all trace of her had suddenly disappeared.

  Sure that he was heading in a direction the opposite of the way she was going, she climbed down from the tree. Almost a mile from her hideout, something happened that finally forced her to reality. She encountered three trappers who could not believe their good fortune. Running with all her might, and screaming at the top of her lungs, Lena once again experienced a terror that her disobedience might bring the end of her life; now, her unborn child would share in her fate. Her capture was sure, there was no way she could escape the three of them.

  Their intent was clear, should they succeed, Lena wanted to die… she didn’t want to live through it. Unfortunately for them, just before the first could get started, Manny came on the scene going mad viewing their intent. His rage left no room for reasoning. When the dust settled, one trapper lay dead, one wounded and the third, a coward; fled before harm could be done to him. Manny, spent, landed on his knees - toppling over from a stab wound to his side as well other injuries.

  To see him as he was, fighting for her - in a rage that both frightened her, as well forced her to see that his gentleness and patience with her, was not due to weakness, but a strength she had to admire and respect. To save her, he was oblivious to the possibility of losing his own life. Then noting the blood, and his weakened state, it did something to her she could no longer ignore concerning what she was feeling about him. Now, she could run but there was nothing in her that wanted to…a change of her heart, had come.

  No longer for the sake of her pride, nor for the freedom of her own child… could she bring herself to leave him. The forest was no stranger to her, neither was survival… she would have to see to him until he could muster the strength to get on his horse. There was no way she could get him on it, and there was no way she would leave him. With no alternatives, she cared for him right there, realizing then, she needed to be needed by him; even if it meant being nothing more than his bedwench.

  ‘God help me…I fear, I have fallen in love with my master…this a love, that can never be.’ She prayed in anguish. It was there, in the woods, by the stream when she gave him care and time to recover, that Morris, and the overseers had found them, and carried them back home; it was then also, that he learned of the child she carried.

  Michael Ramsey Webster was born on a hot afternoon in the kitchen of the mansion on the dinning room table. Morris and Manny present witnessed his birth, the latter who aided in his son’s arrival. Following Lena’s efforts to serve Morris his dinner despite her labor pains. The sight of the newborn’s wet, light colored hair, and pink translucent skin emerging from Lena’s womb, sent Morris into a fit that lasted for weeks after the child’s birth.

  As for Manny, to see the child emerge, having no small indication of being born of a Negro woman, sent his pride to an all time high. It was apparently clear he sired him, and boldly he grinned with gleaming joy for the deed. At that point, there was no turning back for either of them. They were set to a path that would take them full circle …unaware of the bonds, strengths and determination that would spring from the two.

  Chapter Four

  The Present…

  Early the next morning Lena saw to her son’s needs, telling him to stay near the cabin, which was not difficult due to his condition. Leon, a young slave boy who was close to Manny and Lena eagerly volunteered to stay with Mike while she went to her duties in the big house. She would be in the kitchen alone, as Kayleen joined Ma’Nicey out visiting various slaves, ill and needing their midwife skills and herbal knowledge.

  Manny walked into the kitchen dressed in his business attire that he wore when going to town. A cream colored ruffle free shirt, beneath his brown satin waistcoat with a scatter of cream color inlay designs of
fleur-de-lis; close fitting, dark tan trousers tucked within his high top saddle brown boots; slung over his arm, was the matching brown peacock tail jacket.

  Lena glanced up at him upon his entrance, then back down at the counter in somber mood as she poured him coffee and handed it to him. Staring at her he needed a moment to contemplate how he might handle this attitude. He blew into his coffee wondering how he’d managed to give her the upper hand in their arrangement. He was after all the master here…the one in charge. He ‘harrumphed!’ at the thought, shaking his head. Still nothing from her, no good morning, no smile, no kisses coming.

  “You know - this is difficult enough for me. You need not add to it.”

  He tried, and she remained silent. “Surely you know how bothered I am by this? It’s nothing I wish to endure - I assure you!”

  After the previous night’s reminiscences of their beginning, she didn’t care what this might be doing to him. All she knew, was what it was doing to her…moving her down even more from an already lowered status.

  “Have you nothing to say?” He furthered, watching her prepare his tray, with a plate of ham steak, scrambled eggs, biscuits & gravy and bowl of rice pudding. “Yes, good day to you - here’s your tray…now go off and be well fed.” That said, she shoved the tray in his hands, turning from him to head off to the smoke house. Manny slammed the tray to the counter, charging up behind her before she reached the door, he grabbed her arm swinging her around. “Let go of me!” She snapped snatching her arm to free it, to no avail…he wasn’t letting go…but snatched her closer instead. “You will not punish me, for something I have no choice in!”

  “You - punished? I’m sorry - ‘massa’! You’ll have to excuse me for having difficulty with that! It’s simple as this - you’ll be married before the year is up. Where does that leave me? Or better yet - perhaps I should be glad…that will now free me from your bed and constant demands!” Her emotions were raging, and right now… she wanted him to feel what she was feeling. Manny stood holding onto her, frozen for something to say; too shocked to immediately respond. As her stomach ached to see him this way, she fought the feeling by thrusting her chin higher…if he cared nothing more for her…it was time she started feeling the same.

  Again he was reminded of all the things about her that sent him crazy… she was completely unchanged — her face, as beautifully fetching as it was when she was a young girl of fifteen. If anything she’d matured to an elegance that made her even more pleasing to the eye now in her mid twenties.

  “Why do you say that when you know you don’t mean it?”

  “Don’t I?” She shot, then added…going too far. “You’ll be getting a wife - that will free me for someone of whom I can jump the broom with!”

  Again he was silent, searching her eyes for the truth of her words. He was tempted to ask her if that’s what she really wanted. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. His fear of her answer was larger than his strength to accept what it might be. He didn’t care how unfare this was to become, she was his…and that she would stay.

  “You know…one of these days, you’re going to push me too far. And I’ll finally give you what you’re begging of me.”

  “My freedom!?” She shot.

  He clenched his teeth, his grip tightening. “No, the ass slapping you sometimes deserve!”

  “Release me, and with that, will be the end of your torment.”

  “Enough of this! Things are…as they will remain with us! If a change takes place, I will be the one to let you know.” That said, he leaned down for a kiss. She leaned back turning her face away. “Denying me again? I’m beginning to think it’s a game you play to make me rough with you.” He accused. The look she shot him was heated with narrowed eyes. “Kiss me - now!” Pugnaciously she stood her ground. Growling he grabbed her by the cheeks and did what they both wanted done. A minute later, they slowly drew apart. Manny once again reassured of the truth, and Lena again reminded that no man would ever do for her, but this one.

  *****

  “Are you insane?” Charles exclaimed incredulously. “Manny! This is absurd. What could you possibly gain by doing this? He's recorded in your slave books, that's enough surely?!”

  “You know…this is the second time I’m to hear this. His birth is recorded yes, but this is different. And I assure you, I’m perfectly sane. He has come to live, because of me. That makes him my son. I want that documented as a fact. You are my attorney, and paid to follow my request. Where do you find your difficulty?” Manny reasoned calmly.

  Charles was beyond belief, this was completely beyond his understanding. Yet, the fact remained, the Webster’s were one of his clients… and Manny, was his best friend. They’d known each other for years. Being that his office was in town, he’d heard all of the rumors circulating about him and his bed wench. “Manny, you know that there are rumors out already concerning you, and Ceś alena.” Manny shot him a bored look for bringing that up. “Have I asked you to publicize this?”

  “No.”

  “Exactly…I’ve simply made a request that you file a certificate of birth for my son. He is a Webster in blood, and he shall be legally as well.”

  “So am I to list his mother as well?” Charles asked still spinning.

  “Is that not how it is done?”

  “Ceś alena Huebana — your Negro slave.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you want me to place him in your will giving him forty-five percent ownership of Webster Fields?”

  “Right again.”

  “I’m curious to know, what about the fact that Negroes can't own property, and - what does Morris have to say about this? It’s not quite yours yet.”

  “No, but who else will it be going to? Look, I'll work out those details later, and – as for my father, he doesn’t know. Nor will he ever…will he?” Manny emphasized.

  Charles shook his head. “Not from me.” He answered writing out the documents as was requested. “Don’t forget, in the event anything should happen to me. Ceś alena is to be freed, and you will see to her return to her home Makia Island. You will see it done personally. I would trust no other with her life.”

  “What if she decides not to go back, then what?”

  For that, Manny didn’t have an answer, but it was something that weighed heavy on his mind. As he was formulating a plan of financial independence…his prayers were that nothing would happen to him. At least, not until all was in place. “Take care of what I’ve requested, and I will inform you of the rest when it is sorted out.” Charles nodded in understanding, “I’ll have it all drawn up in a couple of hours, return before you leave town to sign it.”

  Manny rose, nodding as he left; agreeing to return in the allotted time. Charles watched him leave, feelings of shock and bewilderment for his friend, “God help you Manny… you’re in love with your bedwench, and only hell can come of it. God help you.” He murmured with the papers lying before him. Looking back down from the closed door of his office, he went about fulfilling the requests.

  Manny walked down the stairs from the upper room office; situated on the second floor from the court house and magistrate’s office. Stepping out onto the boardwalk of the steadily growing town, he turned right into a woman almost knocking her down. They both gasped in surprise as he reached out catching her to prevent her from falling.

  “Madam, please excuse me for my clumsiness.” Manny apologized.

  “Oh it’s quite alright sir, no harm done.” She replied adjusting her clothes and hat before she looked up to see who she was speaking to, and when she did, and both saw the face of the other, they burst with laughter.

  “Well I’ll be…Josephine O’Brien; it has been a long time.”

  “Yes, yes indeed it has been.” She greeted in return smiling at him and pushing back the feather plume on her hat - now knocked askew. “How long have you been back in town?” He asked. She presented such a pretty…but silly picture with the hat sliding still to the
side. “Oh, since yesterday…I came to visit my parents.”

  “I see, the last time we spoke to each other was before I went away to school. When I returned, you were gone. Then I saw you some time later… um…crossing Okala with a tribe of Indians, about nine years ago.”

  “Yes, I recall that as well…quite well. You were bringing in new slaves.” She returned disapprovingly; remembering the young slave girl that smiled and waved back at her that day.

  Manny blushed with embarrassment from her comment. Josephine was one who thought slavery degrading and inhuman. She often gave her father a hard time about the treatment of his slaves. Jordan Lee O’Brien, was owner of Harvest Gold Plantation; the largest thriving plantation in the area. He also owned the livery stable in town, the mercantile store, and the largest fresh fruit and vegetable stand in town…all grown on his plantation.

  Manny and Josephine had played together as young children. She was three years his junior, yet they always enjoyed each other’s company. Often he volunteered to be her audience when she pretended to deliver what she felt to be an important speech on the cruelty of slavery; and on the issues of equalizing the races through education and integration.

  He remembered her father overhearing her once, and banned her to her room for weeks for such talk. Not to mention the talking to he had to sit through for not discouraging her from such nonsense, as Jordan Lee thought it. It had been a great hope with Jordan Lee and Morris that the two would grow up and marry. However, Manny and Josephine always thought of each other as friends and nothing more.