Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy Read online

  “I must go now,” Daddy said. A cold chill ran straight through me. He gave a strained smile and cleared his tight throat. “Tomorrow, on Christmas morning, there will be a special gift for you in the parlor.”

  He leaned in to kiss me farewell, but I turned my cheek away. From the corner of my eye, I saw him wince, and I fell into bed the moment he followed her out the door. The sound of my bedroom door abruptly closing rang through my ears as I drifted into a dejected, miserable sleep.

  “Amelia, Amelia,” I heard as I was gently nudged awake.

  I drifted out of sleep and opened my heavy lids to see Hattie standing beside me, anxiously waiting for me to rise.

  “It’s Christmas morning!”

  I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

  “Come on now, let’s see what Santa Claus brought us,” Hattie urged, yanking me out of bed. Her fever had disappeared as fast as it had come, and she was more lively and excited than ever.

  After I slid out of bed, Mammy came in to help me dress. Her eyes looked red, and the crease in her brow was extra deep this morning. She didn’t come in singing this day; her normally happy glow had vanished.

  “Come, Miss Amelia, you must dress for church,” she said, pulling my nightgown up over me.

  “Can’t we see our presents first, Momma?” Hattie cried.

  Mammy sighed, shaking her head in protest.

  “But Momma!”

  “Hush now, Hattie!”

  “Daddy said there was something special for me, Mammy. Is it true?” I whispered into her ear as she leaned in to button my dress.

  “Yes,” she replied. “When we get back from church you can see.”

  Mammy instructed me to hurry along down for breakfast. As soon as she walked out, Hattie jumped off the bed and grabbed hold of my hand. “Let’s go peek!”

  We quietly stole down the grand staircase and hurried passed the servants, who wandered leisurely about, knowing Daddy didn’t have his watchful eyes on them.

  In the parlor, we found presents surrounding the tall, green Christmas tree. Hattie ran over and shuffled through them to see which were hers.

  “You are making a terrible mess,” I snapped and hurried to make her stop. That’s when I saw what was up against the wall, hidden at first by the giant tree.

  Hattie and I wandered over to it. With a heavy pain in my heart, I sat down at the bench and stared at the brand new piano.

  “Your daddy left this note for you,” Hattie said and lifted it off ivory piano keys.

  My dearest daughter,

  I hope you like the present I left especially for you this Christmas morning. I listen to you sing in church and the angels must cry when your voice reaches the heavens.

  Daddy

  I never once mentioned to anyone how I longed for a piano of my very own, and how when I sang in church I felt as though God himself was smiling down upon me. Singing made me feel alive, free, and beautiful, though I never realized anyone paid much attention to me. When I was in church singing hymns, my mind closed off to the real world; I saw nothing but visions of angels and my very own mummy. I became lost in a special place, a place I imagined my real mummy being.

  “Come, Momma is calling for us,” Hattie said, causing me to quickly snap out of my daydream.

  ~ ~ ~

  ~ Three ~

  With Hattie and me in tow, Mammy hurried down the dry, dusty dirt road to the white clapboard church with a steeple that appeared almost as high as the clouds. Dozens of tall, stained-glass windows graced the walls, allowing brilliant colored light to filter into the church. The stained-glass portraits were all of Jesus in different scenes from the Bible. My favorite one was high above the altar. It depicted the infant Jesus with his mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary, being adored by the shepherds. The sunlight that beamed through the stained glass cast a prism of colors over the altar and onto the Reverend Carter.

  The good reverend was a young preacher, years younger than Daddy, tall and lean, with dark brown hair and soft green eyes. His voice was commanding, yet he spoke with deep, captivating eloquence that left his small congregation mesmerized with his passionate, though sometimes drawn out sermons.

  Most often when we weren’t singing hymns, I was daydreaming. The reverend’s voice slowly faded away and my mind easily wandered. As my eyes swung onto the stained glass window nearest to our pew, I envisioned Mummy as one of the angels surrounded by sweet, gleeful cherubs. Each time we came to church, I felt as close to my own mummy as I could ever be. I believed she hovered near and showered me with her love and affection in an invisible, divine way. And when I sang, I opened my mouth as wide as I could and belted out the hymns I was certain she would hear. Daddy always stood beside me, holding the hymn book open and low for me, and smiled proudly.

  However, today, this Christmas morning, I didn’t feel much like singing, as I wasn’t pressed close up against the warmth of Daddy, for he wasn’t there. Instead, Hattie held the hymn book open and encouraged me with a quick whisper to sing. “Everyone is looking over at you, waiting for your voice to fill the church.”

  I swallowed hard, and gazed around uneasily. All eyes were upon me. I never realized my voice could have such a profound effect on anyone. Though Daddy told me I had the most beautiful voice he had ever heard, one to match my face, I wasn’t aware that anyone else took notice, for when I sang, I only sang to Mummy. Even Reverend Carter stood high on the altar with his eyes locked onto me, earnestly waiting for me to join in.

  I lowered my eyes onto the hymn book and leaned into Hattie. She was inches taller, and I felt protected and safe when I was near her.

  “Go on, Amelia, sing. Sing for your momma, sing to the heavens,” she whispered.

  As soon as I began, as soon as my mouth opened and sang out the words to “Go Tell It on the Mountain,” my heart instantly lifted, and my woeful thoughts of Daddy being far away, gone with Mrs. Norton to be married, vanished. I saw everyone around me smile my way, and I shyly smiled back, and then belted out the remainder of the hymn. I was certain Mummy heard me loud and clear, even all the way up past the gates of heaven and into God’s kingdom.

  As soon as we sat down again, Reverend Carter stepped forward and nodded approvingly to me and then slowly lifted his long arms up into the air, tilted his head back, and roared, “For unto us a child is born; unto us a son is given!”

  It was one of the few times I actually listened to the sermon. I was surprisingly interested and proud of myself. I looked past Hattie to see if Mammy had noticed I wasn‘t daydreaming, as she often caught me doing. She sat looking forlorn, fanning herself. The morning grew hot and the church became sweltering. Small beads of sweat dripped down from her brow, and she periodically dabbed it away with a simple piece of cotton cloth.

  We were all ready to exit the stuffy church and hurry home late that morning to open our Christmas presents. Mammy had some difficulty keeping up with Hattie and me as we ran ahead. “You girls slow down now, you hear! I can’t keep up!” she called.

  Hattie and I slowed down so Mammy could catch up.

  “You knows I am with child,” she snapped. She took hold of our arms and made us walk alongside her, all the way back to the plantation.

  When we reached home, Mammy let go, and Hattie and I rushed giggling past the small group of new slaves that had just arrived and into the parlor to get to our presents.

  “I know just which ones are mine!” Hattie said as she ran to the gifts.

  I followed suit and reached around to find packages with my name on the little tags.

  Mammy came in, along with Helen and Cordelia, to clean up after us and to open what presents Daddy had left for her. In years past, she’d received a pretty store-bought hat and gloves, a lovely wrap, and even sweet perfume, which she wore on long nights when Daddy took her for a stroll along the river. After she opened her presents, Mammy would throw Daddy a shy, loving smile, causing his eyes to sparkle more brilliantly than ever.

  Aft
er opening my dozens of gifts, I searched through the mess of paper for Mammy’s special present. So far I had found none. She was standing nearby, her brown eyes anxiously scanning under the tree, and all too soon her happy grin faded.

  “Mammy, I’m certain there is a gift for you,” I cried when her expression turned disheartened.

  “Never you mind, Miss Amelia. I got to see to some things. You girls get washed for lunch,” she choked and hurried out before we saw her cry. Cordelia and Helen looked visibly distraught and went to console her.

  Hattie and I lost all interest in our gifts. Even the store-bought blonde- haired porcelain doll Daddy had bought me couldn’t keep me from feeling such sadness for Mammy. We silently cleaned up by ourselves.

  Before making our way up to our rooms to wash for lunch, we heard a sudden commotion outside and stepped out onto the gallery to see what it was all about.

  “Lookie here at the dumb big man who can’t speak a word,” one man said, while the others laughed and pointed at the giant Negro slave, who’d been pushed off the wagon.

  “Get up, get up!” Grover, Daddy’s slave driver, ordered.

  The giant man, who towered over any Negro or white man I had ever seen, grabbed hold of the side of the wagon and painstakingly lifted himself out of the pool of mud he had fallen into. Mammy and the other women had been watching the whole time.

  The men continued to snicker as the man, who I later learned was named Hamilton, pulled his one piece of luggage from the thick mud and stood looking humiliated.

  Mammy had seen enough. She knew if Daddy were here, none of this would be tolerated. “You all get to your quarters! Grover, what you doing letting those men push him off like that!”

  The new slaves instantly hushed up and tried to appear respectful to her, though they were trying desperately to conceal their smiles and laughter.

  “Come on now, get along,” Grover ordered and along they went around the mansion toward the row of cabins in the back. Hamilton trailed behind. His enormous feet kept his pace slow and steady like an ox. When he passed Mammy, he thanked her with a timid nod and then bashfully swung his eyes away.

  By lunch time, Mammy had regained her composure, but wasn’t able to hide a tear or two that couldn’t help but escape her sad eyes.

  “Sure is a good lunch, Mammy. Thank you,” I said and smiled. She always told me my smile could brighten the stormiest day.

  “You has an inner light, my child. Your smile lights up the room.”

  But on this day, my smile didn’t light up Mammy’s day, and it pained me to see her hurt. The only one now who could take her heartache away and give light to back her life was my daddy. And he wasn’t there to do so.

  Later that Christmas evening, after Hattie and I tried on the brand new store-bought dresses for one another, we made our way to the cabins to have a celebration with the slaves.

  Mammy was already there with her sisters, and their husbands and children. Helen and Abraham had one daughter my age, Winifred, and two older sons, Jackson and Simon, while Cordelia and Louis had two older boys named Luke and Solomon.

  By twilight, everyone in the small colony was outside, singing gospels and dancing merrily around a large bonfire. Children were playing with their rolling hoops, which was what Daddy bought for every one of the dozen or so slave children.

  I noticed the new slave men had quickly made themselves at home and joined in the festivities. All but the giant man named Hamilton. Apparently fearing more ridicule, he peered out from one of the small cabin windows, trying to remain unseen.

  Hattie had already run off with her cousins after I told her I would catch up with them shortly.

  “Where you going?” Mammy asked when she noticed me heading toward the dark cabin where Hamilton stayed hidden.

  “We’re playing hide and seek,” I lied.

  Mammy looked past me and to the cabin. “You can’t be playing in there. Come sit with me.”

  She placed me on her lap without noticing my quick, inconspicuous wave to the man in the shadows. He waved back, and through the darkness I could see his bright white teeth smiling. I leaned back against my mammy, though it was somewhat awkward, since the baby she carried inside was so large. Mammy was always soft and warm, comforting and full of love for me. She would always be the closest thing to a real mother I could ever have. And while she rocked me as they all sang in harmony, I looked up at the star-filled night and wished that when Daddy did come home, he wouldn’t bring Mrs. Norton back with him. I wished that while he was over in England he would miss my mammy so terribly and realize that he should marry her instead, and that Mammy was the only woman who should be my mother. It was the one wish I wrote in my journal, and I made that wish upon a star, night after night, until the day Daddy was due to return to Sutton Hall.

  * * *

  The holiday sped by, and much to Hattie’s dismay, we were soon heading back to school. I was excited because every day after school a piano instructor was coming to Sutton Hall to teach me how to play the piano Daddy had given me as my Christmas gift. In school, as always, Hattie and I sat side by side, and during recess we sat up on a grassy knoll and ate from our lunch pails.

  Because none of the other children liked Hattie, we tried to stay far from their ridicule and teasing, but John Mason continually harassed us. And if it wasn’t John taunting Hattie for the color of her skin, her coarse hair, or any of her other features that were different from the rest of the class, he sent his nasty girlfriend, Susannah Hansen, to do his dirty work.

  On this warm winter afternoon, the school girls sauntered up to where Hattie and I sat under a magnolia tree eating our lunch. Pretending not to notice us, they began a game of Ring Around the Rosie. Hattie and I watched them go a few times around, and then we rose up and wiped the dust off our dresses.

  “Where y’all goin’? Don’t like our singin’, Amelia?” Susannah sneered. She was as tall as Hattie, with pale yellow hair and narrow eyes that were set too close to her nose. “We hear you at church, singin’ like a dog howlin’!”

  All the girls behind her giggled.

  John was hovering near a crabapple tree, gathering up the small apples and jamming them into his pants pockets.

  “Come on, Hattie, let’s go,” I said, ignoring Susannah’s remark, and we hastily walked past the small posse.

  John then whipped an apple at Hattie, which hit her straight in the chest.

  Again the girls laughed. I picked up the apple and barreled it back at John, who caught it and came charging over to me.

  “Run, Amelia!” Hattie shouted.

  I lifted my dress and headed for the safety of the school, but John was too fast. In an instant, he grabbed me by my one of my ringlets and yanked me back against him.

  Susannah rushed over to watch me struggle while the others held Hattie back.

  Panic filled me as the much older John Mason began to slip his hand under my skirt.

  “Let me go! Stop it!”

  John pulled up my skirt, exposing my chemise for all to see. While they were all laughing, I was able to free myself and I took off running for home. Hattie wasn’t far behind; she ran fast to catch up to me. As soon as she could, she stopped and brought me into her embrace, where we clung to one another.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t go to school anymore,” Hattie choked. “All I do is cause trouble for you.”

  I pulled back and stared up at her. Her expression was smothered in defeat as her eyes lowered to the ground.

  “If you don’t go, Hattie Arrington, then neither will I.”

  “But you love school,” she groaned.

  “I love you more. Now, no more talking. From this day on, we pretend to go off to school, but instead of reaching the school, we will play by the river.”

  “Hooky? You think we should play hooky?” Hattie choked in disbelief.

  “That’s exactly what I am saying. And no time like the present.”

  Hand in hand, Hattie and I hurried along,
laughing and skipping, not looking back.

  For the remainder of the afternoon, Hattie and I sat by river’s edge and soaked our feet in the cold water and then leaned back against the trees and talked about things to come and our deepest secrets.

  “Tell me, Hattie, do you still want to marry Ruben?” I asked. “Do you write about him in your journal, the way I do about Mr. Montgomery?”

  “You’re too young for Mr. Montgomery.”

  “Well, Ruben is probably twenty years old,” I retorted. Ruben was the blacksmith, Oswald’s, apprentice on the plantation.

  “Maybe, but he isn’t married.”

  “I don’t imagine marrying Perry Montgomery, just marrying someone as handsome,” I confessed through my hot blush.

  “He is awfully handsome,” Hattie added, and lay back into the marsh with me.

  The sun was hot, the air typically moist and dewy. We closed our eyes and allowed the sun to bake our faces.

  “I think this is going to work out just fine, don’t you, Hattie?”

  “I sure hope so, ’cause if we get caught, we will sure be in for it.”

  I turned over and leaned on my elbows. I said optimistically, “Even if Daddy finds out, the worst he will do is lecture us and tell us not to do it again. Surely he will understand why we had to stay away. He will probably be so furious at what John Mason did that he will demand John be expelled from school.”

  “You don’t think we should tell Momma?”

  “Absolutely not. She is unhappy as it is. We can’t burden her with our problems.”

  Hattie nodded knowingly, keeping her eyes closed. I smiled, content with our decision, and leaned back again. Together Hattie and I stayed out in the marsh until the sun was positioned in the sky where we believed it should be at the time school let out. Unfortunately, I came back with a terrible sunburn.

  “What happened to your face!” Mammy gasped as we entered the mansion. She tossed the soapy scrub brush into the pail she had been using to wash the dining room floor. Hamilton was high on a ladder in the grand foyer, replacing the broken glass chimney to one of the lamps of the chandelier.