Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy Read online

  In the distance, the river frogs croaked, and all around me the crickets’ night symphony filled my ears. Beyond the moon, the stars twinkled brilliantly, and I stood for a moment gazing upward, wondering if the stars twinkled in heaven or if it was always sunny and bright, immersed in an extraordinary, golden, heavenly light.

  Mammy’s cabin was the only one illuminated with the glow of a lamp, and in my bare feet, I gravitated to the front stoop. I stole over quietly and peered through the small window before knocking. I was glad I did, for Daddy was there with Mammy.

  I saw that Hattie was asleep, and my infant brother snuggled up in his cradle just at the foot of her bed.

  My eyes were wide with inquisitiveness and my heart was racing. Daddy was fervently kissing Mammy. She appeared willing, and eager. I had heard their passionate nights before, when she used to share Daddy’s room, but never once had I actually seen it.

  After spying most definitely too long, I turned to go, and as I spun around, I gasped with fright. Hamilton stood only steps away, and if there had been no moon I would not have seen him.

  Just then the door to the cabin opened, and Daddy stepped out.

  “Amelia!” Daddy looked at me with surprise and then at Hamilton, and he quickly closed the door.

  I had never seen Daddy so embarrassed, awkward, and at a loss for words. It wasn’t any better that Hamilton, even if he had wanted to speak, couldn’t.

  “I came to see Hattie,” I choked, through my tight voice. “I didn’t realize. . .”

  “Go back to bed,” Daddy said gruffly. “And you there, what are you doing staring at me!” Daddy barked over to Hamilton.

  “He can’t talk,” I quickly explained.

  Mammy had heard the commotion and after hastily dressing came out to see what was the matter. When she saw me standing there, she sighed heavily.

  Daddy nudged me along without saying a word or looking back to Mammy and without acknowledging Hamilton again.

  His pace was brisk, and although I could barely keep up, unable to avoid the rocks that pierced my feet, I remained silent. When he reached the mansion, Daddy shot up the back stairway and went off to his wing without addressing me. There was no reprimand, no lecture. He didn’t have to say any of those things. I was completely ashamed.

  Our buggy ride to church the next morning was uncomfortable, to say the least. Daddy couldn’t bear to look my way without clearing his throat, shifting in his seat, and appearing flushed, while Eugenia glared at me from across her seat beside her two haughty daughters. They boasted about how lovely they looked in their new dresses. Even Beatrice was pompous; she was slowly coming out of her shell to be a true duplicate of her sister. Daddy was even more uncomfortable with Hamilton as our driver, but he didn’t protest. Hattie stayed behind, and I learned from Helen that she was sick again. When Eugenia overheard this, she nearly collapsed with worry.

  “What’s wrong with the girl? Has she scarlet fever, typhoid fever?” she said anxiously and pulled her daughters to her side.

  “No, ma’am. Hattie just gits fevers d’at come and go. No harm come of it.”

  Eugenia turned pale with fear. “My sister died from typhoid fever.”

  “Ain’t no one gonna die today,” Helen said, continuing to sweep the floor.

  “Who knows that kind of diseases your kind carry!”

  Eugenia flew out of the room with her girls by her side, apparently fearing they would catch something from Helen.

  “Guessin’ she don’t know d’at if she gonna catch somethin’ from our kind, it gonna be Masta who’d be givin’ it to her,” she mumbled under her breath, apparently forgetting I was in the room as she swept the floor, seeming to be consumed with her own thoughts. Helen often talked to herself, never fearing who might overhear.

  Church was unbelievably stuffy and hot for so early in the morning. The Montgomery’s were there to greet us, and it was really the first time it occurred to me that we were now related by marriage.

  Eugenia took her seat beside Daddy, and I found myself at the end of the pew, as far away from the Norton sisters as I could sit. Perry and Myrna Montgomery sat behind us, along with his parents.

  All eyes were on Eugenia, as this was the first time we were all out in public together as the new Arrington family. Some of the single women, daughters and widows of rich plantation owners, seemed obviously disappointed with Daddy’s new status as a married man. Pretty women who had batted their long lashes at him and pined for his attention from afar now sat sullen and uninterested.

  Eugenia sat proudly beside Daddy, her head high, her expression confident and dignified. When the procession began, she stood like a queen beside her king, while I felt as insignificant as a peasant, but only until I began to sing.

  Eugenia’s eyes widened with surprise and slowly turned to a steely glare, with her mouth twisted so tight it drained the color from her thin lips until they were pasty white. Beatrice and Violet seemed stunned and stared up at Daddy, who smiled proudly while he sang the hymn along with the congregation.

  During every hymn, Eugenia subtly shook her head in displeasure, as if the sound of my voice was piercing her ears. She appeared so consumed that she didn’t notice her nephew leaning in from behind, standing so close that I could feel the heat of his breath move the strands of hair that lay against my neck. I even thought I felt his finger graze against my shoulder as he held the book open for himself and his wife. His girls were so fidgety and the baby so consistently fussy that his wife spent most of her time as inconspicuously as possible hushing them.

  I turned slightly to look at him. His dark eyes were fixed on the hymn book, while he stood straight and strong. An instant daydream filled my thoughts. Perry Montgomery was kissing me just the way Daddy did Mammy.

  It wasn’t until Reverend Carter began the Lord’s Prayer that I suddenly snapped to my senses and felt shamefully full of sin. I didn’t want Eugenia to be right about me. I didn’t want to be like those girls she mentioned - loose women. I was going to have to battle my own daydreams and the new grown-up urges that were rushing through me. Not only to prove Eugenia wrong, but to protect myself from the kind of pleasure that only too often, nine months later, took women like my own mummy to their graves.

  When we returned to Sutton Hall I made myself scarce, staying far away from Perry Montgomery. I headed to the cabins to see how Hattie was feeling and to apologize for my atrocious behavior. I wanted her companionship more than ever.

  Mammy was outside hanging the washing.

  “Is Hattie feeling any better, Mammy?”

  “She is. Go in and see her.”

  Hattie was sitting up in her bed reading a book aloud to Jacob Thomas, who cooed and flailed around in the cradle. When she noticed me standing in the doorway, she continued reading as if she hadn’t seen me.

  I waited patiently for her to finish and then went and stood beside the bed. Hattie and I rarely fought, and when we did, she was usually most forgiving. This time, however, a stubbornness showed in her that I tried to understand.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She placed the book next to her and turned to her side to peer down at the baby.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Sure is a hot day.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Can’t you forgive me? I know I was harsh. The things I said were absolutely uncalled for.”

  She swung her eyes up at me, revealing my reflection in her tears.

  “Things aren’t the same for you and me,” I said wistfully, taking hold of her hand, “but we will always have each other. You’re my very best friend, my sister, my better half. That will never change.”

  “I forgive you,” she said through a genuine smile. “Can’t ever stay mad at you, though sometimes I want to.”

  We hugged and laughed and then we brought our brother up onto the bed with us.

  “As soon as Jacob Thomas is big enough, as soon as he can walk, we’ll teach him how to fish,” I said,
as he grasped my finger with his pudgy little hand.

  “And swim in the river.”

  “And catch frogs,” I added.

  After a long silence, Hattie asked, “Do you like having a momma - a real momma?”

  “Mrs. Norton is not my momma, nor ever will she be. She is the meanest person I have ever known.”

  “Meaner than Mr. Giles?”

  “One hundred times meaner! She looks at me with eyes as cold as stone.”

  “Why did your daddy marry her?” she asked with a voice so full of hurt it pained my heart. “He doesn’t love her, does he?”

  I shook my head. “Not even a little.”

  “Do you think he still loves my momma?”

  “I know he still loves Mammy.” I tried to hide my blush behind the long strands of hair that fell near to my face.

  Between us, we shared a bond, a real lifeblood bond that was our brother. No new marriage could take that away. Through Jacob Thomas, Hattie and I had become real sisters, and from that day forward we leaned on each other more than ever. The secrets, lies, and sins we shared remained strictly within the union of our sisterhood.

  * * *

  Life during the months to follow took a dramatic turn. In some ways I cherish that period, though I can honestly say I didn’t feel that way at the time. The world seemed to be going forward at an escalating rate, like a locomotive, so fast the ground underneath felt unsteady.

  Without much warning, or perhaps because I wasn’t paying close enough attention, the world as I knew it was no longer mine to make of what I wanted.

  When Daddy left for the Southerners’ Commercial Convention, along with Perry Montgomery, I was left in the care of Eugenia and governess, Mlle. Collette Duval. She wasn’t English as I had expected, but French. She was a small woman, probably near Eugenia’s age. She had thin silvery hair, pulled back into a tight bun, and small, black, beady eyes which only reminded me of a vile mouse.

  She spoke exclusively in French, and to my dismay I couldn’t understand a word she said. Beatrice and Violet clearly understood. They spoke the language fluently and were most amused at my confusion. Instead of helping me, they went off to school and left me embarrassed and alone with Mlle. Duval and my new schoolmaster, Mr. Arthur Leeds.

  I believe my lessons with the rather mild-mannered teacher would have gone well if Eugenia didn’t lurk about in the room watching over me. Even Mr. Leeds appeared uncomfortable with her presence, but as I came to learn, no one ever stood up to Eugenia Norton Arrington. Not Mr. Leeds or Mlle. Duval, not the slaves, not even Daddy. The only person to occasionally challenge her authority was me.

  “Go to your room and study the Bible,” Eugenia demanded after Mr. Leeds departed.

  “Why? It’s not Sunday.”

  “Collette, take Miss Arrington to her room and see to it that she studies. I have to see to a matter, and then I am going into Savannah to do some shopping with the girls.”

  Daddy had been gone for two weeks, and in that time Eugenia had taken her daughters into Savannah every day after school to shop for the most fashionable dresses, hats, shoes, and gloves. They came home loaded with boxes piled so high, Hamilton could barely see over them to deliver them up to their rooms. Once he even dropped a hat box, and Eugenia was livid.

  “You clumsy fool, pick that up!” she bellowed. Her voice boomed throughout the giant mansion, causing everyone around to stop what they were doing and stare.

  I rushed over to Hamilton and handed him the box, only to have it snatched away by Eugenia.

  “Take your hands off my things!”

  “I was only trying to help.”

  Hamilton eased the box from Eugenia and gave me a wide-eyed look of warning. If he could speak, I’m certain he would have said, Don’t get yourself into trouble; get along before she lets you have it.

  In the short time that Daddy was gone, Eugenia managed to sell a dozen of our loyal slaves, including Grover, Daddy’s slave driver. He was replaced with a tall, lean, white overseer named Curtis P. Boyd. He had the meanest natural scowl I had ever seen on a man, and his temperament matched his hateful expression.

  I heard that many of the slaves had been whipped, and the thought terrified me. I often heard him out in the fields belting out orders, commanding them to work harder and faster.

  All the slaves were in a dither. A few, Hattie told me, had run away. While some protested and suffered harsh consequences, others, like Mammy and her sisters and their husbands, remained obedient and silent, though behind their eyes I could see the burning resentment toward Eugenia. Our formerly smooth-running, quiet plantation had become disordered and full of turmoil.

  Mlle. Duval escorted up to my room, talking to me as if I could understand.

  “I have a piano lesson in a half hour,” I said as she sat me down at my writing desk and instructed me with a sharp, pointed finger to begin reading. “Mr. Lang is on his way,” I attempted to explain.

  She adamantly shook her head no.

  “Yes, yes he is. Daddy has arranged for my lessons every Friday afternoon.”

  “Non,” she said, with a thick accent.

  “What do you mean, non?”

  Mlle. Duval grabbed my hands, turned them face up, dropped the book down so hard it stung my palms, and rambled on again about something I couldn’t understand, and then she flew out of the room.

  If it wasn’t the Holy Bible that was slammed into my hands, I would have flung the book across the room, straight at the closed door. I knew better, however, and reluctantly I opened the Bible and began to read.

  I occasionally looked up at the clock, and my heart sank when four o’clock came and went without Mr. Lang arriving for my piano lesson. It was what I looked forward to most. I loved the piano and learned so quickly that Mr. Lang had to continually bring new, more advanced lesson books. I loved to play Beethoven and Chopin and would always remember how pleased Mr. Lang was at how quickly I mastered the pieces.

  “You are a gifted student. It is my pleasure to be your teacher,” he said after every lesson.

  By five in the afternoon it became dark outside, and the clouds were threatening. The wind kicked up and whipped through the leaves of the magnolia and live oak trees that surrounded the lawns of Sutton Hall. Soon the thunder rolled over the plantation and boomed overhead, shaking the mansion. With no more natural light to read by, I closed the windows to my room, lit the lamp, and sat on my bed waiting for Mlle. Duval to take me down to supper.

  In years past, supper had been served whenever Daddy saw fit. Sometimes we ate early, and other times he and I sat down late in the evening. If I was hungry before then, I would help myself to whatever fruits were set out in the kitchen. Since the new dictator arrived, supper was served promptly at five o’clock, whether she was there or not.

  Over the past two weeks, I had been dining alone. When Eugenia and her girls returned from their shopping engagements, they were served. I was long done and off playing with Hattie and the other slave children until night was well underway.

  Under the blanket of bright stars in the midnight-blue sky, through the oppressive heat of the night, the children of the Sutton Hall plantation, with the exception of Beatrice and Violet, played hide and seek in the adjacent forest. We all rushed into the dark woods and then scattered, hiding behind oak trees under the cover of darkness. Hattie and I always stayed together. Though our game of hide and seek was meant for fun, I was always afraid of the dark.

  “You hold my hand, Amelia. Let’s go further in. We’re always getting caught because you stay too close to the marsh. With the moon high and bright, they will spot us for sure,” she said breathlessly, as she hurried me into the dark, frightening woods.

  “Haven’t you heard the stories Mammy used to tell us about spirits haunting the woods? Spirits of your buried family members?” I asked, with chills running down my spine and goose bumps covering my arms at the mere thought of seeing a ghost.

  “I’ve never seen any gho
sts,” she said, pressing her back up against a thick, moss-covered tree. “Here is a good spot.”

  I scanned the forest and could barely see my hand in front of my face. If Hattie hadn’t been holding my hand, I wouldn’t even have known she was there.

  “I don’t hear them, Hattie. We’ve gone in too far,” I said anxiously.

  “For sure we won’t be the seekers.”

  Above us an owl hooted, startling me.

  Hattie giggled.

  “Come on, let’s go back.”

  “No. I am tired of my cousins teasing me. When they call ‘come out, come out wherever you are,’ that’s when we will go back,” Hattie insisted.

  I leaned into the tree and tried to stay calm. I tried not to feel my pounding heart. Then, I heard what sounded like footsteps coming closer and closer. I tried to stop imagining it was the ghost of Hattie’s Auntie Frannie.

  “Do you hear that?” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “Footsteps?”

  Hattie went silent. “I don’t hear anything.”

  Suddenly I was tugged away from Hattie, and I yelped in fear as I felt something slithery fall into my hair.

  “Get it off me!” I screamed and flailed around. It felt like a snake, and I heard it hiss at me.

  Laughter echoed through the forest as Simon, Hattie’s oldest cousin, stepped close enough for me to make out the whites of his eyes.

  “Simon, you get that nasty thing off her!” Hattie ordered.

  Simon reached into my hair and pulled it out, as Winifred, Jackson, and Lucy came running over. They had a lantern, which cast a glow around us and lit up the forest. I shuddered as I watched the snake slither away.

  “You’re it!” Simon called after tagging me, and he ran off.

  “Come on, let’s count,” Hattie said.

  “Hattie.”

  “Yes?”

  “I still hear footsteps.”