Yellow Crocus: A Novel

by Laila Ibrahim

  Family lore held that Mattie’s paternal great-great-grandfather would have been free had the assembly waited but two months to pass this law: his indenture was to be completed later in 1705. As it was, none of her ancestors had secured their freedom from the peculiar institution known as slavery. Naturally they all imagined living as one of the free Africans in Charles City County, Virginia, with varying degrees of envy and rage.

  Mattie hurried down the muddy footpath to her family’s cabin. Though it had been her home for her entire life until three months ago, she was nervous. She had never been away from the Quarters before. Would she be accepted back after being “brought in”? She did not know anyone who had moved to the Big House.

  Anxious and excited, Mattie arrived at the unfinished plank door and took a deep breath before pushing it open and crying out “Hello.” There was no response. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, and she saw that no one was there. She sighed. She went back out to look for her son and Poppy, starting with Rebecca’s cabin.

  Rebecca was a strong, substantial woman who was always on the move. She and her husband, Lawrence, took pride in their cabin and their three children, all kept as clean and tidy as possible. Always ready to offer an opinion—asked for or not— Rebecca had volunteered to feed Samuel as soon as word came that Mattie was being brought in. Deeply grateful Rebecca had milk to spare for her son, Mattie had accepted readily.

  Rebecca was born in a barn two counties away, on the land of a newly freed white indentured servant. He had purchased Rebecca’s mother, Millie, as his first step in becoming part of the owning class. But Millie and Rebecca did not live in the barn for long. The mistress of the farm soon realized that her husband had fathered Rebecca and insisted that the “whore and her bastard” be sold.

  The large plantation they were sold to was Rebecca’s home until she was eight. Born with her left leg wrapped around her neck, Rebecca was late to walk and did so with an obvious limp. This decreased her owner’s ability to sell her individually, so she became part of a lot of ten slaves sold to fund a grand tour of Europe. Unfortunately Millie was not part of the sale. Fortunately Rebecca was assigned to Mattie’s cabin, where she found a warm welcome in Mattie’s family and became the big sister that four-year-old Mattie longed for.

  Mattie knocked at the rough plank door. Rebecca swung it open and screamed at the sight of Mattie. Surprise and delight shone in her eyes. Pulling Mattie into her large arms, Rebecca held on tight. Sudden tears streamed from Mattie’s eyes as she sank into Rebecca’s warm embrace.

  “There, there, girl. Let it all out. You home now. You okay,” Rebecca murmured as Mattie sobbed into her chest.

  Slowly her tears subsided until Mattie caught her breath and pulled away. She managed to squeak out, “Samuel here?” through her tight throat.

  Rebecca pointed across the room. Samuel sat on Poppy’s lap. Shaking, Mattie rushed across the room to scoop him up. She held her son tight against her heart, taking in his smell as she swayed and murmured endearments into his ear. Her salty tears dropped onto his half-bald head. Samuel arched his head back to look up at the woman holding him.

  “I been tellin’ him all about you so he gonna know you,” Rebecca told Mattie. “We ain’t gonna let him forget you or think you forgot him.”

  Mattie started to cry again. Poppy walked to her, kissed her cheek, and said, “Glad to see you, Mattie. Welcome home.”

  Word flew that Mattie was visiting, and folks stopped by to pay their regards, hear about life in the Big House, and to see what transformation may have been wrought over one of their own. Everyone gathered in the sticky July air on the four wooden benches that formed a square outside Rebecca’s cabin.

  Sarah, Rebecca’s daughter, showed off a newfound skill. A round-faced, cheerful baby with an easy smile, she took great delight in crawling back and forth to the people who waited for her with open arms and proud smiles. Samuel, on the other hand, was young enough to be satisfied sitting with an adult. After a bit of resistance he accepted Mattie’s lap, staring intently at the faces surrounding him.

  Mattie was disappointed that her husband, Emmanuel, was not there to welcome her. This was his usual visiting time of month, but he had not come from Berkeley Plantation. Mattie and Emmanuel were not legally married, since property had no legal rights. But their respective overseers had been happy to have them declare their intention to form a family by jumping the broom since coupled slaves were less likely to run away and usually produced new workers.

  Mattie described the Big House to the field hands, few of whom had ever been inside it. Though they were all familiar with, and somewhat afraid of, the exterior of the large white building visible through the hedges. The most dreaded ritual of the year occurred annually on the grounds in front of the imposing, columned façade of that building. On the first day of the new year all the workers, from the house and the quarters, gathered while Massa and the overseer called out the names of the people that had been sold or rented out for the year.

  “It all bright white inside like the outside, with big stairs in the front of the house for the white folks and small stairs in the back for us to use. I don’ see many people, just Emily, that skinny, high-yellow girl, Mrs. Ann, she Miss Elizabeth’s mama, Mrs. Gray, she always tell me what I supposed to do, and, of course, Miss Elizabeth. She a pretty good baby. Don’ get me wrong, she not so dear as my Samuel here,” she said as she bounced him up and down on her knees, “but she a good eater and she don’ cry much.”

  Mattie pointed. “See that window there? The one on the corner up highest from the ground? I think that Miss Elizabeth’s room. I watch out of it when I get the chance.”

  “You see us?” Poppy asked.

  “Mm hm. I see you carrying Samuel to Rebecca and coming in from the fields and such.”

  Poppy nodded his head. “Good to know where you at. I gonna stop and wave from now on. Just in case you there.”

  “I gonna be waving back. Even if you don’ see me. Every mornin’ and every evenin’ I stand there watchin’ you all. Samuel look like he pretty happy,” Mattie ventured.

  Rebecca jumped in. “Confused at first. But now he used to it. I sing to him. That helps.”

  “He sleeping all right?” Mattie wondered.

  “He a real good sleeper,” Poppy said. “Hardly ever get me up.”

  “Cook says Mrs. Ann gonna try at havin’ another one. That true?” Rebecca asked.

  “That what I hear. They got her eatin’ meat at all her meals. Massa be wantin’ a son, just like most men folk.”

  “Guess they gonna be keepin’ you busy for a while.”

  Mattie sighed. “I wanna finish up with Miss Elizabeth, be done with the Big House, but I gonna be doin’ whatever Mrs. Gray tells me. I s’pose they gonna have me feed this next one. I hopin’ for a boy too. Maybe they send me back out if they done with the babies.”

  “Bet you likin’ all the food and fancy clothes,” someone declared.

  That got Mattie angry. With heat in her voice she replied, “The food good, the clothes nice, but I rather be out here with Samuel.”

  At the sound of his name Samuel fussed and reached for Rebecca. Mattie’s heart skipped a beat because she suspected he was hungry. She wanted to be the one to feed him while she could, while she was here, but she was afraid he might refuse her. Samuel twisted hard away from her to get to Rebecca. Mattie looked at Rebecca, uncertain what to do, her unspoken question written on her face.

  “Go ahead. You offer it to him. That all you can do,” Rebecca said gently. “Take him somewhere private. Where he ain’t gonna see me.”

  Mattie carried Samuel inside the cabin. She lowered herself onto a hard pallet and slowly undid the top buttons of her dress and pulled the fabric aside. Then Mattie laid Samuel across her lap, tucked his right arm behind her waist and pulled him toward her left breast. He arched his back, jerked his head away, and scrunched up his face in preparation to let out a wail.

  “Yo
u okay,” Mattie said gently, “I got the good stuff too. You used to love it right here.”

  Samuel stopped protesting when Mattie spoke. She rubbed the back of his head and leaned over to kiss his forehead. “We got time.”

  She gazed into his eyes, rocked back and forth, and sang to him:

  Go to sleepy little baby

  Go to sleepy little baby

  Your momma’s gone away and your daddy’s gone to stay

  Didn’t leave nobody but the baby

  Eventually Samuel relaxed. Mattie cautiously, slowly brought his head toward her breast. He parted his lips a little. She squirted a bit of milk into his mouth. He licked his lips, smiled up at her, and opened his mouth. She gently placed her nipple into his waiting mouth. His body tensed, but he didn’t pull back. She squeezed her breast to bring out more milk. Samuel licked her nipple. She did it again and he licked some more. They sat frozen, her breast against his mouth, with him neither pulling away nor latching on. Mattie held her breath and said a prayer, “Please God, give me this.”

  She inhaled slowly and calmly breathed out. Tenderly she rubbed the tight curls on his head. He pulled away, but she kept her hand behind his head. He pushed back against her flesh and bones as he attempted to pull away. She rubbed his hair again. He quickly turned his head slightly from left to right, opened his mouth wide, and then pulled her nipple deep into his mouth. Then he sucked with vigor. Her milk rushed out into him.

  “That right, baby boy. That right. You know. You know what to do.”

  Mattie breathed a sigh of relief. She still had this. They hadn’t taken her son away from her completely. Sitting on the edge of the pallet, Mattie was determined to enjoy this moment, this precious time with her son.

  Chapter 4

  Miss Elizabeth sat comfortably against Mattie’s left hip as they came down the front stairs. When Mattie turned to enter the formal sitting room their bodies tensed in unison. Mattie gently patted Miss Elizabeth’s leg as she privately whispered, “You all right” into the ten-month-old baby’s small pink ear. “I ain’t gonna leave you.”

  Mrs. Ann and Grandmother Wainwright sat in waiting for this Saturday afternoon ritual. Mrs. Ann perched uncomfortably at one end of the blue upholstered couch in the center of the large, high-ceilinged room, a brown muslin dress pulled taut across her large, round abdomen. Nodding absently at the words coming out of Grandmother Wainwright’s mouth, Miss Ann gazed away from her mother-in-law.

  Grandmother Wainwright, the widowed matriarch of the household, had married into the Wainwright family in 1800. She gave birth to a son, Alistair, in 1803, and then suffered through several pregnancies that ended in miscarriage. A daughter, Rose, arrived in 1808, followed by Jonathan in 1810. When Rose succumbed to scarlet fever in 1812, Grandmother Wainwright locked her husband out of her bedroom, declaring she no longer wished to risk another broken heart. When Alistair broke his neck at the age of thirty-one while attempting a risky jump on horseback, she saw it as further confirmation that it was best not to love too deeply or become too attached. It was a principle that had served her well since then.

  Grandmother Wainwright fully occupied one end of the blue couch. Volumes of black fabric from her skirt covered the seat of the couch. Her pale eyes stayed fixed on Mrs. Ann’s face as Mattie and Miss Elizabeth waited in the entryway of the room.

  “Of course you shall not suckle this one either,” she said. “I do not care if it is the fashion. It is unseemly for a woman of your stature to feed a child. Elizabeth is to be weaned to goat’s milk. As soon as my grandson is born, she can start with him.”

  Mrs. Ann continued to nod.

  “Now bring the child over to visit her mother,” Grandmother Wainwright commanded, finally acknowledging Mattie’s presence.

  As they crossed the room, Mattie felt Miss Elizabeth slip her hand across the neck of Mattie’s dress. Pudgy pink fingers traveled along Mattie’s collarbone until they grasped the shells of the necklace that nestled there. The toddler rested her head in the crook of Mattie’s neck, hiding her face from the two women on the couch. Rubbing the child’s back with her free arm, Mattie resisted the impulse to kiss the top of Miss Elizabeth’s head or whisper words of comfort into the little girl’s ear. When they reached the couch, the child tightened her grip on the shell necklace as Mattie pulled her away from her body. Tears filled Miss Elizabeth’s bright blue eyes, and her bottom lip quivered as she clung to Mattie.

  When Mrs. Ann spoke, resignation tinged her voice. “I am too big to hold her. Keep her on your lap for today.”

  Mattie hid her relief.

  Grandmother Wainwright snapped, making no attempt to hide the contempt in her voice, “You spoil that child. She needs to know she is not in control.”

  “She will learn soon enough. I am too tired for tears today.”

  Mattie, careful not to make eye contact with either of the women, sat on the chair next to the divan. Miss Elizabeth kept her face hidden in the crook of Mattie’s neck, though she tentatively peeked out at her mother. When Mrs. Ann tickled her leg Miss Elizabeth smiled at her mother. Slowly Mattie shifted Miss Elizabeth until the baby faced her mother.

  “Patty-cake, patty-cake,” Mrs. Ann began. She chanted the familiar rhyme and clapped her daughter’s warm hands together. Moving both of their hands through the gestures, they both smiled when they got to the end. Miss Elizabeth turned around to make sure Mattie approved of the game as well. Mattie nodded and smiled reassuringly at the child.

  Grandmother Wainwright interrupted the game. “As soon as my grandson is born, you will suckle him. We have purchased a new girl to be with Elizabeth.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mattie replied.

  “It will not be for a few weeks yet,” inserted Mrs. Ann, “…and it may not be a son.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Of course it shall be a son,” Grandmother Wainwright declared without hesitation.

  Mattie was composed through the rest of the visit, but she was deeply shaken by this news. She had anticipated suckling the new baby, but she did not think it would force her away from Miss Elizabeth. As much as she had desired to keep her special feeling only for Samuel, she had come to love this child. This caring, little white girl had captured her heart. And she was going to lose her too.

  The coming weeks felt like the days leading up to Miss Elizabeth’s birth when she waited to leave Samuel to come in. Each morning Mattie wondered if this would be their last day together. And then each night she thanked God for the gift of that day and asked for one more. It was an anxious, bittersweet time.

  Mattie knew it would be an easier transition for Miss Elizabeth, and for herself, if they nursed less in preparation for the change, but she did not deny the child her breast. Whenever they settled in together for a feeding, Mattie had a heavy heart knowing this might be the last time she held Miss Elizabeth so close.

  One late Sunday evening, Mattie was staring out the window of the nursery hoping to catch sight of Samuel. She had been standing there since she returned from her visit to the Quarters. For many hours on that lovely May afternoon Samuel had squealed in delight as Mattie ran after him. His tight-fisted hands pumped back and forth as she chased him then he would suddenly freeze, allowing himself to be caught in his mother’s arms and twirled around. After a few spins he used his limited vocabulary to ask for, “Mo, mo,” and she happily began the game all over again.

  Miss Elizabeth sat near Mattie’s feet, occasionally pulling herself up on Mattie’s long skirt or crawling off to retrieve a ball Mattie pushed away with her foot. The door to the nursery opened as Mattie’s toe was about to strike the ball again. Quickly Mattie turned from the window, reached down to Miss Elizabeth’s outstretched arms, brought the child into her arms, and said, “Good evening, ma’am.”

  “Labor has begun,” declared Mrs. Gray. “No need for you to come to the birthing room. When the child is born Emily will bring him to you and take Miss Elizabeth to her new room.”

&
nbsp; “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”

  With that, Miss Elizabeth and Mattie were left alone for the last time. Mattie sat on the rocking chair with the one-year-old on her lap. Her voice shook as she explained to the child, “You gotta be with that new Charlotte now. I gonna be with your new brother or sister. Charlotte was brung over to take care a you. She seem fine enough.” Her voice caught. “You gonna be all right.”

  Mattie pulled Miss Elizabeth close for a cuddle, but the active girl wanted none of it. She pushed her body away and slid her legs down to the ground. The child quickly crawled to the ball by the window, adeptly transitioned to a sitting position, and threw the ball toward Mattie. It rolled past her. With a sad smile she lowered herself to the ground to retrieve the ball from behind the rocker. She turned around to see Miss Elizabeth gazing at her expectantly, eyebrows arched upward and head cocked sideways in a hopeful question, “Ba?”

  Mattie blinked away her tears and said, “All right. We gonna do it your way.” And she threw the ball back to the baby.

  Hours later, while they were both dreaming, Emily brought a newborn bundle to Mattie’s room and took Miss Elizabeth away from the warm bed the toddler had shared with Mattie since the night of her birth thirteen months before. Still groggy from sleep, Mattie did not realize the swap had been made until she was awakened by the click of the door closing behind Emily. “Wait,” she wanted to yell, but she did not. She kept her words of protest to herself.

  Outrage poured through her. She was not given even one last kiss. Hot, unshed tears stung her eyes. She refused to touch or even look at the new baby, knowing there was no point in caring about him. He lay there screaming, wanting to be suckled, but she ignored him.

  Miss Elizabeth woke up in a strange room in a strange bed. Her heart raced in her chest as she looked around in panic. Where was her Mattie? She cried out, “Ma-ie, Ma-ie,” but Mattie did not come. Her cries got louder and more desperate, but still Mattie did not come. The not-Mattie walked with her. The not-Mattie offered her food. The not-Mattie shook her. Still Miss Elizabeth cried for her Mattie. She screamed until she slept.