Dark Chaos

by Ginny Dye

  Now that Rose had decided to talk about it, she was eager to express what she had felt for months. Instinctively she knew she could talk to Diedre about it. “I found out a couple of years ago who my real father is. He was the master of the plantation.”

  “Ain’t nothing unusual about that,” Diedre stated calmly. “It happens all the time. If that’s the way it is, you mulatto, too. Why you asking me what it’s like?”

  “Have you always known you were?” Rose asked.

  “Kinda hard with skin this light not to know there be white in me somewhere.”

  “That’s just it,” Rose replied. “I never knew. I just always figured I was black. The only daddy I knew was black, so I thought I was.”

  “According to the law, you be black,” Diedre observed. “Takes a lot less black blood in you than what you gots to be considered black around here. The white part of you don’t seem to matter none.” She paused and looked at Rose closely. “The white part of you don’t show up too much. You got beautiful caramel skin and coal black eyes. Moses be right dark. I don’t think that master of your mama’s put too much of him into you.”

  Rose took a deep breath and decided to tell her everything. “I have a twin brother. He was born white. They sold him when he was only a couple of days old. He was adopted by a white family later.”

  “Do tell,” Diedre breathed. “You ain’t never met him?”

  “Not yet,” Rose answered. “But I mean to. When this war is over, I will find him.”

  “You reckon that’s a good idea? That boy been living in the white world for a long time. He might not take kindly to finding out he’s half black.”

  “That’s what Moses said,” Rose admitted, remembering back to the night on the plantation when Carrie had found the papers telling them about her twin brother. The reality of her brother had been much more of a shock than the realization of Carrie as her aunt. The two girls had felt like family for so long it hadn’t really mattered. What mattered was that she had a brother she had never met.

  She pulled her thoughts back and looked up at Diedre. “You’re light-skinned, Diedre. Do you ever wish you could pass for being white?” She held her breath and hoped Diedre wouldn’t be offended by her question.

  Diedre was silent for a long time. “I’d be lying if I said I ain’t wished that. Yet I’s also proud to be black. I had some family who escaped, headed north, then passed theyselves off as white. At first it bothered me real bad. It’s like they shoved away who they was.” She paused thoughtfully. “Then I realized one day that they be just as much white as they be black. I reckoned it been up to them which part they wanted to live more. One thing for sure - I know theys had it a lot easier being white. This country just ain’t a easy place to be a colored person. Ain’t too many people that wouldn’t take the easy road if someone put them on it.”

  Rose couldn’t withhold the question nagging her. “What if my baby comes out white? There’s a lot of white blood in me even though I look more colored.”

  Diedre watched her for a long minute. “Would it bother you if your baby be white?”

  “I wouldn’t love it any less,” Rose replied instantly. “I guess I’m just afraid it would make life more complicated for my baby.”

  Diedre laughed shortly. “Life gonna be pretty complicated for that baby if it be born all black,” she replied. “Like I said, this ain’t a easy country to be black in.” She leaned forward. “What’s really bothering you, girl?”

  Rose almost smiled at how easily Diedre could read her, but her fear was too real. “I just...” her voice trailed off. “I just wonder how Moses will feel about our baby if it’s white.”

  “Moses know about your brother?”

  “Of course. I would never have kept that from him.”

  “Then he’s already thought about it,” Diedre said firmly. “That man loves you with a mighty fierce love. He ain’t gonna let a thing like that bother him. He’s gonna love that baby whether it comes out coal black or lily white.” She took Rose’s hand. “And you gonna love that baby no matter what it looks like. The future will take care of itself. All you can do is take one day at a time. I reckon God knows what color that baby gonna be. He don’t make mistakes, you know.”

  Rose nodded. Somehow, just talking about it had made her feel better. “I’m tired,” she said, sinking down and burrowing into her pillow.

  Diedre pulled the thin blanket up closer to Rose’s chin. “I’m gonna head home now. June be in the next room. If you needin’ anythin’, you lets her know.”

  Through almost closed eyelids, Rose watched Diedre head for the door. Just as she felt sleep reach down to claim her, a sharp pain shot through her stomach. “Oh!” she cried.

  Diedre was by her side in an instant. “What’s wrong, girl?”

  Rose opened her mouth to answer and struggled to rise into a sitting position. “It’s...” Another pain stole the words from her mouth. Grabbing her stomach, she doubled over to escape the hurt.

  She heard Diedre move away and fling open the door to the other room. “I think it be time. Get the water ready.”

  Rose struggled to conquer the fear trying to suffocate her. “Diedre!” she gasped.

  Diedre was by her side in an instant. “Everything gonna be fine, Rose. Babies been comin’ into this world since the beginning of time. Ain’t nothing to worry about.”

  In spite of the excruciating pain, Rose heard anxiety in Diedre’s voice. “What’s wrong?” she asked fiercely. “Something is wrong. Tell me what it is,” Rose demanded, reaching out and grabbing the older woman’s hand.

  Diedre hesitated but then spoke. “Them sharp pains ain’t normal. They ain’t the same as contractions.” Her voice grew stronger. “Don’t necessarily mean anythin’ be wrong though. Every baby decides to come into the world they own way.”

  Rose drew comfort from her words. There might not be anything wrong. She relaxed slightly and felt Diedre tilt her chin back so that she could look into her eyes.

  “You gots a long fight ahead of you, Rose. You already terrible tired. It gonna make it harder.” Then she smiled slightly. “But it be worth it, honey girl. When you holds that new baby in your arms, whatever you done gone through, it be worth it! “

  Rose yelled out again as a fresh spasm of pain racked her body, and then she drew her breath in sharply, surprise filling her. “My water,” she said. “I think my water just broke.”

  Carrying a large bucket of hot water and holding a pile of rags, June eased into the room. “I sent for Carla. She can watch baby Simon while I help you, Diedre.”

  The next thirty minutes passed in a blur for Rose. Spasms of pain unlike any she had ever known would attack and leave her gasping for breath and fearing they would never end. Just as suddenly, the torture would subside and leave her feeling as limp and wrung out as a wet washrag. She quickly learned to live for those moments of rest.

  Diedre moved around the room efficiently. “You’re doing fine, Rose,” she said softly, making her preparations. “You be doing fine, honey girl.”

  Suddenly a pain more ferocious than any yet grabbed Rose. “Mama!” she shrieked, tears coursing down her face. “Mama!”

  Diedre put a firm hand on Rose’s shoulder but then moved to the end of the bed and turned to June. “This baby be turned wrong!” she said fiercely. “We gots us some work to do.”

  June stepped up and grabbed Rose’s hand. “You gonna be fine, Rose. Hang on! You gonna be fine.”

  Rose hung onto those words while she remained dimly aware something was terribly wrong. She could do nothing beyond trying to endure the agony. She cried out as another fresh surge of pain engulfed her and left her weak, gasping for breath.

  The minutes blended into what seemed an eternity of torment as the night wore on. June stayed at her side and let Rose grip her hand with each fresh spasm.

  “I’ve about got it turned,” Diedre finally called triumphantly. “Rose, you got to push hard.”

 
; Rose heard the words through a haze of fatigue and pain. She tried to comply, but her body refused to respond.

  “Push!” June cried.

  “Can’t,” Rose whispered. “Tired...”

  “You push, girl!” Diedre snapped. “And you push now! This baby done fightin’ too hard for its life for you to give up on it now. Push!” she yelled.

  Rose pushed, straining with all her might to give life to her child.

  “It’s almost here,” Diedre cried. “Push! I ain’t gonna lose this battle now!”

  Rose felt tears coursing down her cheeks as freely as the sweat drenching her bedclothes and sheets. She screamed in agony and then marshaled her flagging strength for one more try.

  “Push!”

  “God, help me!” Rose shrieked, bearing down with all of her that was left, before she descended into a dark haze. She grew dimly aware of talking, but the words failed to penetrate the fog engulfing her.

  Gradually she realized there were wet cloths bathing her skin. She struggled to remember where she was and why pain had threatened her life.

  “You done got a perfect little boy, Rose.”

  The words came from a great distance. A little boy... You have a perfect little boy... Rose slowly attached meaning to the words. An instinct from the beginning of time made her reach out her arms. She fought to open her eyes. A little boy... A perfect little boy...

  “He’s beautiful, Rose.” June’s voice penetrated the fog. “Sit up a little bit so I can give you some water. Your son is waiting for you.”

  Rose found the energy to open her eyes. The water trickling down her throat tasted like sweet nectar. “My son,” she whispered. “My son...”

  Her face beaming, Diedre stepped up next to the bed. “Here he be, Rose. He put up a mighty big fight so he could say hello to his mama.”

  Rose pushed herself up against the wall and held her arms out wonderingly. Diedre laid the tiny little bundle of life, already wrapped in clean cloths, in her arms. She stared down at the puckered face in tender amazement. Tears of joy streaked her cheeks. She examined her baby carefully. His dark skin was crowned with a halo of soft black curls. Reaching out carefully, she ran her finger down one soft cheek. “My son,” she whispered again. “Hello, little John Samuels. You’re named for my daddy, you know.” Her voice caught in wonder.

  Then she looked up at Diedre. “Thank you,” she whispered. There was so much more to say, but she knew words would never express what was in her heart.

  A sudden movement caused her to look back down. She laughed as her son turned his face toward her breast and began to move his lips. “He’s definitely his father’s boy,” she said, shifting his weight so he could eat. Rose watched contentedly for a few minutes before a heavy weight pressed down on her whole being. “I’m so tired...”

  Diedre stepped forward. “You go ahead and sleep, girl. June and I will be right here. Once your son finishes his first meal we’ll get him settled. You need rest more than you need anythin’ else.”

  Almost asleep, Rose heard Diedre’s quiet words to June. “We just about lost both of them. I reckon God’s not done with either of them yet.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Moses sank down on the ground, his fatigue and soreness pressing in from everywhere. Leaning his head back against a tree, he gazed up at the full moon, barely visible as it fought to shine through the battle vapors infiltrating the area. No matter where he looked, all he saw was a hazy darkness. The order had gone out that no campfires be built. Moses knew the Federals were not anxious to give away their position. Jackson had won a stunning victory today, but there would always be tomorrow. He reached into his haversack, pulled out several biscuits, and ate hungrily.

  Moses felt, rather than saw, the form moving toward him in the darkness. Every muscle tensed as he coiled his body in preparation for action. He reached for his rifle silently. Jackson had pulled one big surprise already today. Was he springing another one?

  “That be you, Moses?”

  Moses heaved a sigh of relief and settled back. “It’s me, Pompey. What are you sneaking around for?”

  “I ain’t sneaking around,” Pompey protested. “I can’t help it none that it’s so dark in these woods you can’t hardly see your hand in front of your face. The stink of all this smoke and gunpowder be enough to suffocate a man.”

  “Sure makes me long for open spaces,” Moses agreed, suddenly glad to have company.

  Pompey sank down on the ground beside him. “I don’t reckon I’ll ever forget my first day of battle.”

  “I’m trying to,” Moses responded grimly, still heartsick at all he had witnessed.

  “Caesar and Jacob didn’t make it,” Pompey said sorrowfully. “Theys some of the first done falled when we charged back into that Rebel advance.” There was a touch of pride in his voice now. “They died fer dere flag, sure ‘nuff.”

  Moses remained silent. He knew war meant killing. He knew that every man who moved onto a battlefield was flirting with death. In spite of the horror, he also knew the only way his people would be free was if the North won this war, but that realization didn’t make his loathing for all this death diminish. It didn’t ease the ache he felt for the families each fallen man left behind. His mind flew to Rose. He hoped she would never receive news of his death on the battlefield. He hoped he would not have a son who never got to see his father.

  “What you figure tomorrow’s gonna be like?” Pompey asked quietly.

  Moses shrugged but then realized Pompey couldn’t see him. “I don’t know. Our side took a mighty hard hit today. I guess General Hooker will try to hit back.” He paused. “I heard Captain Jones talking today. A lot of the officers are furious with the general. They think he’s giving this fight away. I don’t know, though. It was Hooker who led the charge that stopped Jackson’s attack. I sure wouldn’t want to be the one making decisions for over 100,000 men.”

  “It just ain’t possible to get de big pi’ture when you be the little man,” Pompey said thoughtfully. “We just got to do what we be tole to do. Ain’t got no idea what be goin’ on just a little ways from us. Ain’t no way of knowin’ if we be winnin’ or losin’ this thin’. All we get to see is what be right in front of us.” He paused. “That be a might scary at times.”

  Pompey lapsed into silence again. Moses was content to let the murky night reflect his thoughts back to him. His body longed for sleep, yet his mind desperately needed time to process the horrors of the day. But he knew no amount of processing could make any sense of it. He had watched hundreds of men and families be destroyed simply because men in power couldn’t agree and were willing to sacrifice soldiers’ lives to accomplish their means.

  Given the option to quit, I would choose to fight. Moses almost smiled at the contradiction of his own thoughts. It was true. He would choose to fight. He knew the war hadn’t begun as a means to free the slaves forever, yet somehow it had evolved into that. If the North won the war, the face of America would be changed forever - his life would be changed forever.

  “Why you don’t talk like de rest of us?” Pompey asked suddenly. “Not dat it bother me none,” he insisted. “I know you be a good man.” He hesitated. “Some of the men be talkin’ though.”

  “Rose taught me how to talk,” he mused half to himself. Just saying her name made the ache more present. Shaking off the memories, he strove to answer Pompey’s question. Most of the men knew his story, but there were fresh recruits whose loyalty could be diminished if they doubted his ability to understand them. Pompey was one of them. “Just a couple of years ago, I was a slave. I’d never had any education.”

  “Dat right?” Pompey said suspiciously.

  “My daddy was killed by a mob when he tried to run away,” Moses said quietly, knowing his story would quiet the older man’s fears. “My whole family was beaten. I was just a little boy. I figured I would always be a slave.” He paused, remembering. “A couple of years ago I was sold to a man outside Richmond. One o
f his slaves had a secret school out in the woods. She taught me how to read and write. She also taught me how to speak correctly.”

  “What difference it make how ya talk?” Pompey protested.

  “It doesn’t make any difference to me,” Moses said instantly. “But it’s going to make a difference when we’re free and we’re trying to make it in a white world. People will still see me as a black man, but having education will make it a little easier.”

  “What happened to dat girl who done learned you? Slave owners don’t like dat stuff none too good.”

  “I married her,” Moses said, grinning. “Then we escaped and headed north to Philadelphia.”

  “Do tell,” Pompey whistled in admiration.

  Moses knew Pompey was solidly on his side now. He also knew he would spread the news around the cook fires. “Rose is teaching in the contraband camp outside of Norfolk.” He sucked in his breath at the longing surging through him. “She’s going to have our baby any day now,” he said pensively. “Might have already had it.”

  “I got me four little ones back home,” Pompey said proudly. “We done took off when some Union troops got near us ‘bout a year back. They be stayin’ with some kin folk in Ohio. Sure nuff be glad when dis be over and I cans get back.”

  Moses agreed with him wholeheartedly. He tensed as a sudden rustle in the woods startled him. He could feel Pompey tighten beside him. He relaxed again as one of his men loomed close enough to identify.

  “The captain be calling us together,” the messenger reported. “Said we ain’t done for the day yet.”

  “What we gonna be doin’ in pitch dark?” Pompey exclaimed.

  “I imagine we’ll find out in a few minutes.” Ignoring the fatigue, Moses heaved his body up from the ground.

  The dim light of a single lantern was all that identified the clearing Captain Jones was assembling his men in. Moses stepped up to the back of the group and waited expectantly. He didn’t have long to wait.