Secret Tides Page 12

  With Mrs. Tessier gone, the manse didn’t need much cleaning during those winter months. So Ruby spent as much time alone as possible, not even talking to the other two girls, Lisa and Lydia, who worked with her in the house. She liked the aloneness in those early days. No reason to get too friendly, since she didn’t figure on staying too long once the summer hit and she could run.

  As the weather got colder, however, Ruby found her foul mood hard to keep up. Until the day that Mrs. Rushton had sold her, she’d always been talkative and happy; staying quiet all the time made her sad. To her surprise, she gradually found that she wanted some company, at least part of the time, and turned to Stella. In spite of the fact that Stella liked to bark her orders, Ruby sensed a good soul in the old mammy. Soon, Ruby began to trust the old woman. By the time January had ended, Ruby found herself doing the light chores in the manse as quickly as possible so she could join Stella and Camellia in the cookhouse. Although she didn’t say it out to anybody, Ruby found it almost pleasant there. Camellia treated her kindly, and even though she didn’t really trust any white girl anymore, she put a lot of stock in that. Camellia made her think of Miss Donetta, and that reminded her that some white folks cared about their servants, no matter the appearances to the contrary. Listening to Stella and Camellia chatter as they fried chicken, rolled biscuits, and stirred gravy made Ruby warm up inside, at least for a while.

  The days got wetter and colder as February rolled in. Everybody snuggled deeper into their shawls and hats as they went about their work. Mrs. Tessier came back from Charleston to check on a few things with Mr. York, and Ruby and Stella took care of her hand and foot. Since she stayed in her bedroom most of the time, Mr. York took the stairs to her bedroom every morning to go over The Oak’s business.

  From her place in the corner of the room, Ruby saw that Mrs. Tessier paid good attention to what Mr. York said. That surprised her some, since she’d heard Stella and Camellia say how little care Mrs. Tessier normally had for the plantation. Not only that, but Mrs. Tessier hardly ever took laudanum anymore, except for a couple of times a week, late in the afternoon. More often than not she skipped her opiate mix and spent her time either reading or writing letters to her children in Charleston.

  Mrs. Tessier always wrote her letters in a cloth, high-backed chair by the window, her body draped in silk robes and leather slippers. When finished, she usually took a seat at a large roll-top mahogany desk, folded the letters into an envelope, then licked the seal and handed them to Ruby to give to Uncle Bob to mail in Beaufort. Other than her meetings with Mr. York and those letters, Ruby couldn’t see that Mrs. Tessier had much heart for anything else.

  It rained almost every day in early February. One day as the skies poured, Ruby joined Stella and Camellia in the cookhouse a few hours before dark.

  “Put your hands to the gravy,” said Stella, pointing Ruby to a skillet as she walked in. “Got rice to finish up.”

  Ruby moved to the table, skillet in hand. The kitchen was warm, but she still pulled her shawl tight. Although much colder in the north, the wetness of the ocean air chilled her worse than any deep frost. She put flour in the skillet, then added water and milk. “Got some leavin’s from breakfast sausage?”

  Stella pointed to a plate by the wall. Ruby took the plate and poured the morning’s leftover sausage into it and cut it up. A few seconds later she carried the skillet to the fireplace and set it on a big rock in the corner.

  As she waited for the skillet to heat, Ruby studied the white girl. Although Camellia tried hard to seem normal, Ruby sensed she had something heavy on her mind. She’d lost a lot of weight in the last few months and hardly ever looked her straight in the eye. Fact is, from what Ruby could tell, Camellia didn’t look much of anybody in the eye. It was one thing for a poor white woman to look away from her betters in the white world, but something different when she wouldn’t keep a steady gaze with a darky. Everybody knew that didn’t make sense. Why should a white woman look away from a colored unless they had something real wrong eating at them from the inside?

  Ruby washed her hands in the basin by the fireplace, then looked to Stella for another chore. “Cut up these apples,” said Stella, pointing to a bunch of yellow apples on the table. “Put a little cinnamon on ’em.”

  Ruby took a knife to the apples and studied some more on Camellia. Maybe she felt out of place laboring side by side with the darkies. After all, she was the only white girl on the manse doing such a thing. Another notion came to Ruby. Maybe Camellia felt guilty because white folks held blacks as property. Ruby had heard of that. Miss Donetta had even talked about it once; told her how sad it made her that one person could buy and sell another.

  Her hands busy with the apples, Ruby weighed one other idea. Perhaps Camellia carried around some burden. Was she fooling with some man? A good Christian girl passing out her favors before she stood before the preacher? Was that it? But no, it couldn’t be that. Ruby knew Camellia went to church whenever she could. And she acted like a real Christian too, stopping by Josh Cain’s house almost every day to do what she could for him and his children since his Anna had taken to the bed. A woman with that good a heart surely lived a chaste life.

  Ruby finished the apples and put them in a pot.

  Stella pointed her to the cinnamon. “You seed Obadiah lately?”

  “Seen Obadiah,” said Ruby, correcting Stella’s grammar without thinking. “Have you seen Obadiah?”

  “What?”

  Ruby dropped her eyes at the slip-up. “Nothin’,” she said, deliberately slurring her word. “Got nothin’ to say.”

  Stella stepped closer. “I been watchin’ you. Listenin’ too. You got a strange way, somethin’ in your speech. You talk real good one second, then sound like a field hand the next. I can’t figure exactly what it is, but you’re up to somethin’ you don’t want nobody to know.”

  Ruby glanced around, trying to figure what to do. She wanted to tell Stella and Miss Camellia the truth, to let them know she wasn’t a common field hand, that she had learned her letters real fine from Miss Donetta. But doing that meant she was taking them on as friends, as people to trust. Could she do that? She’d decided the day she left Virginia she wouldn’t ever do such a thing again. Making a friend meant you could lose that friend, and a woman with no last name had no power to do anything about that if it happened. No ma’am, it didn’t pay to get too close to somebody, didn’t pay at all.

  She hung her head at the thought of living the rest of her life with nobody to call friend. What if she ended up on The Oak for a long time? What if she never found the chance to go back to Markus and Theo? She couldn’t live forever without somebody who cared about her, somebody she cared about.

  “I can read,” she said softly, her hands still.

  Stella stepped to her. “Your missy taught you?”

  “Yes, back in Virginia.”

  “I heard of that happenin’.”

  “How does it feel?” asked Camellia, her eyes wide.

  Ruby glanced at her. “You don’t know your letters?”

  “No, no chance to learn.” Camellia dropped her eyes.

  “I can’t rightly say how it feels. Never thought of it that way.”

  “I think it would feel strong,” said Camellia, looking back up. “Like you got some power, you know. Since you can read the words you got power to go into them, into the places they take you, the things the words describe.”

  “You did no schooling?”

  “I know a few words. But I’ve been here since I was a small girl.”

  “Where’s the nearest school?”

  “Nearly thirty miles away. No way to get there.”

  “Your mama, your pa didn’t teach you anything?”

  “My mama died when I was young. My pa knows a little, his figures, reads some. But he never took time to teach me even that much.”

  “Most white girls can read some,” said Ruby.

  “But not many darkies,” said Stella.
“You know it’s agin the law, don’t you?”

  “Sure I know. Why do you think I keep it quiet? Talk like a common Negro in front of everybody?”

  Stella eyed her with a new respect. “You smarter than you let on.”

  “I don’t plan to stay here all my life,” Ruby said, admitting her hope straight out. “My smarts are all I have to get me out.” She spread cinnamon on the apples and tried to focus again on her work.

  Camellia wiped her hands on her apron and began to open her mouth, as if she wanted to speak, but Stella beat her to it.

  “You able to read the letters Mrs. Tessier’s children send her?”

  Ruby shrugged. “I could if I wanted.”

  Stella picked up an apple, started peeling it. “Maybe it’s a notion for you to do that.” She kept her voice as calm as if telling Ruby to have a drink of water.

  “Why should I?”

  “Never hurts a darky to know what’s goin’ on in the manse,” Stella said. “Never know when a touch of news might come in handy.”

  Ruby weighed the idea and saw it made sense, even though she couldn’t see at the moment how reading the letters could aid her. “I seal the letters for her most times. Easy enough to read them if I want.”

  “Somethin’ to study over,” said Stella.

  “Wouldn’t that be wrong?” asked Camellia. “Snooping in somebody’s letters?”

  Stella laughed. “Lots of wrong things in this old world. One more added to it ain’t gone break nothin’. Besides, what harm can it do? It ain’t like we gone hurt nobody. Just gettin’ a little news, that’s all.”

  Camellia sighed. “It don’t matter to me.”

  Stella turned back to Ruby and changed the subject. “I asked you if you had seen Obadiah. You never did answer.”

  Ruby shook her head. “He keeps coming around. But I have a man. You know that.”

  “That man be long gone,” said Stella. “You best put him out of your head.”

  “Don’t put a man like Markus out of your head too easy,” said Ruby with a smile, suddenly more comfortable with the other two women. “He makes a woman forget other men; makes her forget everything, to tell it completely true.”

  “Still, a woman your age needs a man,” Stella insisted. “Everybody expects it, counts on you havin’ some babies.”

  “We have no master right now,” said Ruby. “With Master Trenton off to school and Mr. York busy running things, nobody pays attention to me. I think I can go without a man awhile yet. Besides, like I said, I don’t figure to stay here forever.”

  Stella shook her head as she set the apples in the fireplace. “You talkin’ crazy when you say things like that. Hard for a darky to do any runnin’, even a fella. You know what happens. A fella runs off, stays gone a few days, then shows right back up. He gets out there on his own and sees he’s got nowhere to go. And what’s he get for his troubles? A couple days hungry in the woods and a whippin’ when he shows back up. So what good does runnin’ do? A darky don’t have a clue what to do when he gets off his rightful place. Where you figure you gone go?”

  “Maybe I won’t have to run,” said Ruby. “Folks up North say men won’t always own other men. Say the day is coming when we get our freedom.”

  “That’s silly talk,” said Stella. “Nobody down here gone let that happen.”

  “Folks up North say otherwise,” said Ruby. “Say things got to change someday. Maybe a war will do something about it.”

  “I hear the Southern states will stand on their own if the Yankees get too uppity,” said Camellia. “Pull right out of the Union.”

  “They might,” agreed Ruby. “Some say a war will come for sure if they try it, though. I hope it does; anything for us to get our freedom.”

  “What we have then?” argued Stella. “Who gone do all the work on a place like this? And how we gone live if the master don’t take care of us, give us clothes and food and such?”

  “Don’t know all the answers,” said Ruby. “All I know is I don’t plan on staying on The Oak all my days. Have to get back to Markus and Theo one way or another.”

  Stella grunted and started cleaning up the table. “Maybe. But until then Obadiah would make you a good man. He’s free and all, got his own place, money too.”

  Ruby stared at Stella. “What do you care if I take up with Obadiah or not? He pay you to say a good word for him?”

  Stella grinned. “Maybe I want you out of my house. Old woman like me needs to live alone.”

  Ruby smiled then, deciding to go along with Stella’s talk about Obadiah. “He’s a mite creaky for me, don’t you think?”

  “Age don’t make that much difference. I be close to seventy, but I still got my eye on a buck or two.”

  The three women laughed, and Ruby’s sense of friendship with Stella and Camellia warmed her even more. Although she didn’t have Markus and Theo, she’d at least found a couple of friends. Not what she wanted forever, but for now it’d have to do.

  “Will you teach me?”

  Ruby faced Camellia. “What do you mean?”

  “I want to read. Will you teach me?”

  Ruby glanced at Stella, who shrugged. “Seems all backward,” Ruby told Camellia. “A colored teaching a white girl. Not right, the way I figure it.”

  “That don’t matter to me,” said Camellia. “You know how to do something I’ve wanted to do all my life.”

  “What difference does it make if you can do your letters?”

  Camellia squared her shoulders. “I love Trenton Tessier,” she said firmly. “Stella knows it, others too. I think he loves me. But what kind of wife will I make if I’m so ignorant I don’t even know my letters? Trenton’s got enough reason to be ashamed of me. No reason to give him another.”

  “A man who truly loves a woman won’t feel ’shamed of her no matter what,” said Stella. “I told you that.”

  “That’s true,” Ruby agreed.

  Camellia nodded. “He tells me it’s okay. But I want to do all I can to make him a good wife. I got no dowry. Least I can do is learn my letters if I get the chance. Will you teach me?”

  “Somebody else ought to do it,” Ruby said. “Mr. Cain maybe. I see him with a book time to time. Maybe you can ask him one day when you go by to help him with his kids.”

  Camellia shook her head. “He’s got too much else on his mind. I can’t put another task on him. Besides, he’s a grown man. It’s not proper for him to spend time with somebody like me.”

  Ruby tried to figure how this could help her. Although she liked Camellia, she also wanted to take advantage of the situation if she could. Who knew what she’d need when the day came to take her leave? What help Camellia could offer?

  A smile flickered on Ruby’s lips. “I have a question. You answer it, and I’ll teach you how to read.”

  “What’s the question?”

  Ruby glanced at Stella. “How does a body make his way up toward Columbia?”

  “That be a dangerous question,” said Stella. “Best you not go askin’ it.”

  “I ask what I want,” said Ruby. “She wants something from me, I want something back.”

  “I don’t rightly know,” Camellia replied.

  “But you can find out.”

  “I could. Pa travels that way sometimes.”

  “That’s what I want to know,” said Ruby. “The way to Robertson’s place, between here and Columbia; what road to take there.”

  “You gone get us all in trouble,” argued Stella. “You run, and they gone come straight to me to see if I helped you.”

  “Just shake your frizzy head.” Ruby grinned. “Tell them you had nothing to do with my running.”

  Stella looked at Camellia. “You best not aid her. It will cause us nothin’ but aggravation.”

  Camellia’s jaw tightened, and Ruby could see the torment in the white woman’s eyes. Camellia wanted to help her, but Stella wouldn’t let her. Ruby moved to the wash basin and dipped her hands in. Maybe she nee
ded to do some stronger trading if she wanted to find out how to get to Markus. She looked at the thought from all angles but didn’t see any harm that could come to her if she told what she knew.

  “I got a secret,” she said, facing the women again. “I’ll give it to you if you get me directions. Plus I’ll teach Miss Camellia how to read.”

  Camellia caught Stella’s eye. Again Stella shook her head. “She’ll run,” the old woman warned. “And when she gets caught, she’ll tell them we helped her. Then we’ll all be throwed right off the place.”

  “But I want to read!” pleaded Camellia. “What will she do if we tell her? What can she do?”

  Stella pulled at the edge of her bandanna. “All right,” she finally agreed. “We can say we don’t know nothin’ if she runs. It be her word against ours. And she’s new; nobody will take her side agin us.”

  “Okay,” said Camellia.

  “Okay,” said Stella, facing Ruby. “You tell us what you got. Then we see how it weighs. If it be heavy enough, we find out the path to Robertson’s.”

  Ruby smiled until her teeth showed. The three women sat down at the table as the apples cooked. “On the way here,” Ruby began, “the day after Mr. York bought me in Charleston, we came to the creek. Mr. Cain and Mr. York found this man …”

  Stella and Camellia held to every word as Ruby poured out her story. She told them everything except the part about them finding the money. When she finished, Stella pulled the apples from the fireplace, then clucked at Camellia. “Your pa say anything to you about this?”

  “No, but I don’t know why he should.”

  “You reckon he told Mrs. Tessier?”

  “No way to tell.”