Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy Read online

  My mind scrambled for an explanation as she hurried over to me to inspect my face.

  “We had an extra long recess, Mammy. We were playing and I forgot to put on my bonnet,” I lied. Hattie stood beside me, her eyes wide and frightened.

  Hamilton moseyed down from the ladder and disappeared, while Mammy quickly grew distraught.

  “Ain’t never seen such a bad burn,” she said in distress. “Don’t even know how to treat it!”

  “I’m fine, Mammy, really. It doesn’t even hurt.” Again I lied. Already my face had begun to tighten up and felt as if I were standing too close to a blazing fire.

  Hamilton came back with some plant in hand and snapped off the tip. Then gently as he could with his enormous hands, he placed the gel that appeared from inside the plant against the fair English skin of my face.

  “What you doing?” Mammy barked and slapped his hands away from my face.

  Since Hamilton didn’t talk, he attempted to communicate with his eyes and facial gestures.

  Hamilton smiled and snapped another piece, then rubbed the gel onto Mammy’s hand. Instinctively, she went to pull away but he held his grip firm on her.

  She quizzically stared down at the skin of her small hand, which was coated with the gel.

  “I think he is showing you what will help the burn, Momma,” Hattie said.

  Hamilton nodded and smiled widely, then handed Mammy the rest of the plant and headed back to the ladder.

  “Man should learn to mind his business,” she mumbled under her breath as she ushered Hattie and me upstairs. When we reached my room, Mammy insisted I get into bed.

  “Hattie, you get washed up and get downstairs and help Cordelia with supper.”

  Hattie smiled nervously at me and did as her Momma said without question, while I adamantly protested. “But my piano lesson is this afternoon!”

  Mammy drew the covers and guided me into bed.

  “I be sending Mr. Layne home the minute he gets here,” she said. “You rest and I be back shortly with your supper.”

  “But, Mammy!”

  She swung around and gave me the look - the look that warned me not to argue, that she had heard enough.

  I folded my arms over my chest and sulked, and when she came to console me, I refused to look her way or let her touch me.

  “Child, if your daddy saw you like this he’d be beside himself,” she said softly.

  “Well, Daddy isn’t here!” I barked.

  Mammy winced at my anger, and her eyes grew solemn. I instantly regretted my attack, but it was too late. Mammy quietly stole out and sent Helen up with my supper that rainy night; she tended to the blisters that covered my face while Mammy stayed away.

  She had never stayed away before.

  ~ ~ ~

  ~ Four ~

  During my recovery that week, Hattie slipped into my room through the back stairway of the mansion after pretending to go off to school. Though it was legitimate for me to miss school, it still felt sneaky to have Hattie join me undetected for the day. At lunch time, she slid under the bed and muffled her giggles until Cordelia left again. Then we burst out in laughter and carried on with our fun. The only trouble that haunted me was knowing that Mammy cried herself to sleep every night.

  “That’s why she hasn’t been coming to see us and tuck us into bed,” Hattie explained, just before she departed for the day. “She cries so hard for your Daddy.”

  That night as the cold rain pounded against the windows of the giant mansion, I crept out of my room with a candle in hand and down the hall to Mammy’s room. It was only doors down from mine, across from Hattie’s room, where she stayed only when she was ill.

  I stopped outside her door and pressed my ear up against it. Soft sobs filtered through and went straight to my heart. Hattie was right. Mammy was crying - crying with so much woe that it seemed as if someone had actually died.

  I eased the unlocked door open and stepped in. The fire in the hearth cast a warm glow over Mammy, who was curled up on the bed, her back facing the door. She seemed completely unaware that I was standing in the room.

  The room had taken me by surprise, for it was sparse, with most of the furniture missing. All that remained was the bed with a nightstand beside it. The armoire, dresser, mirror, and few paintings that had hung on the walls were all gone.

  Looking around the room, I was puzzled. I walked over to Mammy and boldly asked her what was happening. “Where are all your things, Mammy?”

  She was startled to see me and abruptly sat up, wiping her tear-soaked face with the apron of her skirt. She hadn’t even dressed for bed.

  “Child, you need to be in bed,” she sniffled.

  “I came to see you; I miss you so,” I said, after placing the candle on the windowsill and climbing up on the bed. “Where are all your things?”

  Mammy studied my face for a moment. She reached out and stroked my cheek.

  “I’m moving into the cabins.”

  “Why would you do such a thing? This is your room, and we have so many of them!” I cried in confusion. “And if you are all the way out in the cabins, then who will care for me and Hattie?”

  “Hattie is coming with me,” she added forlornly.

  Mammy instantly hushed and crooned to me, fighting back her own tears. “You will be just fine, Miss Amelia. I still be here, just not in the big house with you as much. Your daddy is bringing a governess all the way from England to care for you. This is gonna be her room.”

  “Why would Daddy do such a thing?”

  “He got his reasons, child.” She lifted my chin and made me look straight up into the dark, sad pools in her cried-out eyes. “Some things are changing, Miss Amelia, but my love for you ain’t never gonna.”

  Mammy said things were changing. I was going to have a governess and a new momma. But I didn’t want any of those things. I liked things exactly as they were. If Mammy couldn’t be my mummy, then no one should. And as soon as Daddy arrived back from England, I was going to tell him so.

  I was well enough to attend church that Sunday, along with Mammy and Hattie. Hamilton drove us by buggy, at Mammy’s insistence.

  “Don’t want you walking out in the sun,” she said.

  The blisters on my face popped and oozed and, according to Dr. Anderson, would heal just fine. “You wear your bonnet from now on, young lady,” Dr. Anderson ordered. His wide, wrinkled finger shook in disapproval while he lectured me. The doctor packed up his bag while explaining what could have happened to me. “You’re lucky infection didn’t set in.”

  Hattie gasped.

  “You are a beautiful girl, Amelia. Don’t do anything to change that. Stay out of the sun,” he said with a kind smile.

  I was grateful for the overcast day that looked as if it was going to rain at any moment. No sun to put my healing face in any danger, I thought to myself.

  The buggy stopped before the church, and most of the congregation entering through the narrow double doors stopped to look at us.

  John Mason was there with his parents, as were most of the children from school. Though we were in church, they didn’t refrain from smirking and snickering at me. As if they didn’t put me through enough humiliation at school, now they found more cause to laugh. I was a sight to gasp and point at, and all I wanted to do was hide my face.

  “Come now,” she said firmly and marched us in behind the steady flow of people.

  Hamilton stayed with the horse and buggy, along with many of the other Negroes. He gave me a subtle nod as I turned back to look at him, indicating I would be fine. Mammy caught sight of it and briefly glared at him. He stood up straight and shifted his eyes uncomfortably to the ground.

  Inside the church, we took our seats in the middle of the pew and knelt to pray before services began. I didn’t close my eyes all the way, but peeked at Mammy who was beside me. Her eyes were tightly closed and her thin hands clasped together, pressed against her bowed head. She was praying so intensely I could only
imagine her prayers were asking to have Daddy come home without Mrs. Norton and a strange governess.

  So, I decided to do the same. I shut my eyes and prayed very hard.

  Dear God, when Daddy returns from his journey to England, please have him come without Mrs. Norton and a strange governess. Make Daddy see that Mammy loves him, truly loves him, and would make a better mummy than anyone. Please, please, please. I prayed with so much fortitude that I didn’t hear the procession start.

  Hattie poked me and motioned for me to rise. I jumped up and looked down to the hymn book she was holding open.

  I sang loud and proud, certain my prayers would be answered. It was only going to be a short time before Mammy would smile again and her belongings would be moved back into the room that had always been hers. I felt God by my side that Sunday morning, shining his love upon me and all of us.

  After services, I was feeling a sense of relief from the recent burden of Daddy’s decision and Mammy’s uninvited sadness as we made our way to the buggy through the steady rain. I was ready to look at life ahead and no longer dwell on the current situation. All things would be right, for God himself was looking over us. I hoped Mammy would sense that too. And though she didn’t smile, and the veil of dejection that covered her face had not immediately disappeared, I had faith, great faith that she was going to be in Daddy’s arms once again.

  As the many weeks passed by, Hattie and I continued to steal away and stay far from school. Most days we would play by the river, far downstream from the plantation. On occasion, some of Hattie’s cousins would follow along and fish with us. Hattie always reminded me to keep my bonnet on, covering my fair complexion, as we feared if I returned with a sunburn again we would be caught playing hooky for sure.

  I wrote in my journal daily about our leisurely days in the marsh and early afternoons wandering through the woods and spying on Mr. Montgomery’s plantation, which was not far from Sutton Hall.

  His two-story brick house was diminutive compared to the one Daddy had built, and the fields of cotton were only half the size, although the plantation was always bustling with activity.

  Hattie and I perched ourselves high under the canopy of an old oak tree and kept ourselves entertained with the comings and goings, watching the slaves bent over picking cotton, working tireless hours in the hot, sun-baked fields until Perry Montgomery appeared from the house. He reminded me of my daddy in many ways, yet I knew what I felt for him was not the same as what I felt for Daddy. The sight of Mr. Montgomery made my heart beat faster. Everything about the way he walked and talked made me dream of having a husband just like him one day.

  “Do we have to come here every day?” Hattie groaned as we spied Mr. Montgomery greeting his wife on her return and then watched them stroll inside together.

  We climbed down from the tree and began our walk home through the woods.

  “Would you rather be at school?”

  “No.”

  “Then what do you suggest we do all the hours that we stay away?”

  “I don’t know,” she mumbled.

  “This is working just fine. And besides, Daddy will be home soon, and then everything will be right back to the way it was,” I stated optimistically.

  “How will anything be the same? He is coming back with a new momma for you!”

  “Oh, you don’t think Daddy would really ever marry Mrs. Norton, do you? Surely he has come to his senses by now. And,” I said, grabbing her arm and pulling her close so I could speak in only a whisper, “I have prayed for Daddy to come back to us and Mammy and make her his wife.”

  We were approaching Sutton Hall now, and we stopped to watch two wagons full of new furniture being unloaded.

  There were hand-carved mahogany beds, tall dressers, and oil paintings by the dozens being carried into the mansion, and new lamps, rugs, boxes and more boxes that read fragile, which I later learned were full of delicate English bone china. Our old but expensive velvet drapes were being pulled down from every window and replaced with new even more elegant ones.

  Mammy was running about, though she had to hold up her enormous belly. She was directing Hamilton and the delivery men where to put everything, all the while appearing completely exhausted.

  “What are all these new items for, Mammy?” I asked before heading inside.

  Mammy wiped her brow with the back of her hand as her eyes stayed glued to the men, who were expected not to damage any of the objects.

  “Your daddy had these things shipped all the way from England,” she hastily explained and then insisted we wash up for supper.

  Hattie and I walked inside and scanned the rooms in disbelief. Not one original piece of furniture remained. Everything had been taken out and hauled away - everything but my piano. I sighed with relief. I had been receiving my lessons from Mr. Layne and doing well, he said. I was already past beginner sheets.

  “Come girls, git, git,” Cordelia insisted, hurrying by to dust off the new lamps. “You in d’way!”

  “Let’s wash up,” Hattie suggested and led me upstairs.

  “I just don’t see why we need new furniture and lamps,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

  “I don’t think God and you are seeing things exactly the same,” Hattie replied flatly.

  “What do you mean?”

  She stopped midway down the hall to our room, turned, and looked down at me with eyes as disturbed and teary as her mother’s. “Your daddy and my momma never being anything other than master and slave.”

  Instantly I grew angry, angry at Hattie for daring to say such a thing.

  “That’s not true, Hattie Arrington. God will answer my prayers, so take what you said back!” I said adamantly.

  “You need to see things for what they are sometimes and stop living in your pretend world.”

  “I do not live in a pretend world!”

  “Yes, you do. You think Momma and your daddy can get married, you write in your journal about Mr. Montgomery, lovesick dreams about how he looks at you like he would a grown woman. They are just silly dreams!”

  “You shut your mouth, Hattie, this instant!” I commanded. “Or I won’t allow you to share my room with me!”

  “Maybe I don’t want to share your room!” Hattie stormed away, slamming her bedroom door shut. I followed suit and slammed my door and then I fell down onto the bed and cried until past supper, when I refused to go down and eat.

  Mammy stole in late that night to comfort me.

  “Hattie told me ’bout your fight,” she said, and reached for my hands.

  “She said some hurtful things,” I cried.

  “What things did she tell you that made you not want supper?” Mammy was tired and in obvious discomfort, her baby due to come any day.

  When I didn’t answer her, when I couldn’t find the voice to speak of all that troubled me, Mammy leaned in to kiss me on the cheek and pulled me into her embrace. “Hattie didn’t mean no harm by what she said, Miss Amelia. She loves you as good as any sista would, and I always love you as any momma would. Never you forget that. Life ain’t always what you want it to be; it ain’t always fair. God sees to us all, Amelia girl, in his own way, and he don’t give us anything we can’t handle. I know I been crying, crying for things I can’t change. But I done crying now, for I been blessed with a child growing in me. You will understand one day. For now, you stop frettin’ so much.”

  She cradled my face in her hands, looked deeply into my eyes, and smiled.

  “You such a beautiful girl, got so much in you that reminds me of your daddy. Hoping my baby looks just like you.”

  Mammy left me that night, left me wide awake, wondering where we were all going in life and if God’s love was going to lead the way.

  ~ ~ ~

  ~ Five ~

  Spring 1859

  The sounds of giggles and strange laughter brought me out of a late morning sleep. I slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from my tired eyes to find two young girls, standing besi
de my bed - two girls whose images mirrored one another.

  I looked from one to the other, trying to place the faces, and then looked again, until they simultaneously giggled and quickly scurried out of my room.

  “Wait!” I called and slipped out of bed. “Who are you?”

  The dark-auburn-haired girls ran hand in hand until they reached their room. Inside they went, closing the door behind them.

  “Who are you girls?” I asked, knocking on the door.

  One of the identical girls came to the door and cracked it open just enough for me to see her large bright-green eyes.

  “Are you Amelia?”

  “Yes. . . yes, I am. What is your name?”

  “Violet.”

  “Can’t you open the door? Won’t you allow me in?”

  Violet stepped back and let me in. The other girl stayed hidden behind the drapes, only peering out to get a better look at me.

  “That’s my sister, Beatrice.”

  “Are you twins?”

  Violet was small framed, and stood as tall as me. I had never seen anyone with as pale a complexion as mine until I met the Norton twins. They even had tiny freckles sprinkled across their noses, just the way I did. When I studied Violet’s face closer, I gulped hard, for so many of her features resembled those of her mother.

  “You’re Mrs. Norton’s daughters?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. I slowly scanned the room, noting all the changes.

  There was new wallpaper, hung with drapes that accented the purple in the violets of the wallpaper. There were two individual beds with matching headboards and footboards, separated by a small night table, and two mahogany dressers sat between the room’s two windows. Book shelves were filled with books, and delicate tea sets, and there were two of everything. Even the books. Each girl had her own copy of each book! It was obvious they shared nothing, with the exception of the room and their faces.