Dark Chaos

by Ginny Dye

  The mirror called to her now. Carrie sat down at her dressing table and pulled out the brush she kept there. Slowly she unpinned her hair and watched it cascade over her shoulders. As she ran the brush through it, she gazed into the mirror, imagining Robert just behind her and looking deeply into her eyes as he reached forward to caress her face. Suddenly she groaned. The ache of missing him was a physical pain.

  Abruptly she stood and walked to the window. Impulsively she threw it open and took in deep breaths of the cold, crisp air. She wouldn’t be surprised if they had their first frost tonight. She stood there, straining to bridge the ocean that separated her from the man she loved, until she was shivering. She reached to pull the window shut then changed her mind. The fresh air would do her good. She gathered extra blankets from her wardrobe and piled them on the bed.

  She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

  The sun was high in the sky when Carrie woke the next morning. She yawned and stretched, feeling more rested than she had in months. Cool air washed over her face, making her burrow deeper into the mound of covers. She lay quietly, listening to the sound of birds and the wind whispering through the branches of her favorite oak sentinel stationed right outside her window. She could already feel the magic of the plantation working its way into her heart.

  She had forced herself to deal with Richmond’s crowded conditions, but her heart and mind yearned for open spaces. She only felt like herself when she had room to move and think and be. She couldn’t be home for long, but she would make the most of it. She glanced around her room brought to life by the sun streaming in the window. Suddenly she frowned and glanced at the clock.

  “Oh my goodness!” She sat her and threw back the covers. “No wonder the sun is so much higher than I thought it should be.” Carrie moved to the window and was glad there was no one to hear her talking to herself. If there had been frost the night before the sun had been up long enough to melt it all away. Reaching over to grab a blanket off the bed, Carrie wrapped it around her closely and sank down onto her window seat.

  The view from her room was spectacular. Wave upon wave of gold, yellow, and red spread out as far as she could see, an undulating sea of color banked by the shimmering blue sky. Small clumps of pine cast dark green splotches. A few tufts of fluffy clouds floated slowly, casting an occasional shadow over the land as they tried to capture the sun.

  Carrie’s growling stomach finally forced her to tear herself away from the beautiful scene. It took her just a few minutes to dress and braid her hair. She wouldn’t put it up today. She was home, and she wasn’t going to allow protocol to determine her actions. Smiling into the mirror gaily, she headed for the muted sound of noise in the dining room.

  “Miss Carrie!” Opal sprang up from where she was seated as soon as Carrie entered the room. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “It’s wonderful to see you, Opal,” Carrie said warmly, giving the older woman a big hug, then stepping back to inspect her. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “Get on with you!” Opal laughed. “I know better than anyone that my dresses be tighter than they were the last time you were here.”

  Carrie grew thoughtful. “It’s wonderful you and the children have enough to eat.” She thought of all the children with pinched faces and thin arms roaming the city streets.

  “Things still bad there?”

  “They get worse every day,” Carrie sighed. “I don’t know what this winter will be like.” She shook her head grimly. “That’s one reason I’m here. I’ve come for the herbs I have stored in the basement.” She frowned, a sudden fear gripping her. “They’re still here, aren’t they? The Union soldiers didn’t take them, did they?”

  “They still be there,” Sam reassured her. “Them boys talk about takin’ them, but I hear them say they wouldn’t know what to do with them no way. They be right where you left them.”

  Carrie smiled in relief. “Good.” Then she looked around. “Is Hobbs still asleep?”

  “I ain’t heard not one sound from that room,” Sam chuckled. “That boy sleeps like the dead.”

  “He needed rest,” Carrie said. “I’m glad he’s getting it.” Then she turned to Opal. “How are the kids?”

  “Just fine,” Opal replied, her face lighting up with a proud smile. “Being out here has done them a world of good. They still miss their mama and daddy, but they’re happy.” She glanced out the window. “They should be here any minute. I sent them out to finish up their chores. Keeping them quiet has been some work,” she laughed. “They been clamoring to see you ever since they found out you were here.”

  “I can’t wait to see them,” Carrie said warmly. She had been glad to provide the children a place to live after their mother, Opal’s cousin, had been killed in an explosion at the armory in Richmond. Their daddy was in prison after being captured for spy activity. Carrie’s attempts to find out how he was doing had been futile. Castle Thunder, the prison where he was held, would release no information.

  Carrie heard the sound of a door being pushed open then suddenly three children swarmed into the room.

  “Miss Carrie,” Carl, the youngest at eight, cried. “You really are here.”

  “It’s good to see you, Carl.” Carrie laughed. “Come here and let me see how you’ve grown.”

  Carl raced over and stood in front of her proudly, his muscular body held erect.

  Carrie stared at him in amazement. “You’ve grown at least three inches since last winter.”

  “Yessum. Opal says my daddy won’t recognize me.” A sudden frown puckered his face. “You reckon that’s true?”

  “Boy, you know your daddy will know who you are in one second flat,” Opal scoffed. “He carries a picture of you that will never fade in his mind.”

  Carl relaxed visibly then grinned. Carrie reached out to give him a hug then turned to smile at the rest of the children. Eleven-year-old Amber and fifteen-year-old Sadie smiled in return.

  “Hello, Miss Carrie,” they chorused together as they rushed forward to give her hugs.

  The next hour flew by as the three children regaled her with stories of their adventures on the plantation. Finally Carrie pushed back from the table. “Where is Susie?” she asked. “I thought I would see her by now.”

  “I didn’t think you would ever ask,” Opal grinned. “Susie is married.”

  “What?” Carrie asked in astonishment.

  “She met a young man who came through here as a runaway. All the way from North Carolina. Heard we would help him here.”

  “So she’s gone?”

  “Nope. She told that boy - his name is Zeke - that if he wanted to marry her, he would have to stay right here until her daddy got out of jail. She wouldn’t even think about leaving until she knew he was okay and that the other kids had their daddy back.” Opal paused. “They’re living down in Rose and Moses’ old cabin. I hope that’s all right.”

  “Of course, it is,” Carrie said instantly. “I’m so glad she’s happy.”

  “What about you?” Opal asked suddenly. “Whatever happened to that Robert fellow? He ever come back?”

  “I’m married, too,” Carrie announced happily.

  “Say what?” Sam exclaimed. “I think you better be tellin’ us the whole story.”

  Another hour flew by while Carrie shared with them all that had happened since she last saw them.

  “Well, I be real happy for you, Miss Carrie,” Sam exclaimed. “I know you be missin’ Robert somethin’ fierce though, ain’t ya?”

  Carrie nodded wordlessly, tears springing to her eyes. She brushed them away impatiently. “It was my decision to stay. You’d think I’d not be a crybaby about it.”

  “Don’t change the missin’ none,” Sam said compassionately. “How’s your daddy be doing?”

  “Not good,” Carrie said sadly. She told them of the bitterness and anger consuming him. “He needs to come back to the plantation. Maybe he can find some peace here.”

&n
bsp; “You tell your daddy we be right here waitin’ for him,” Sam replied. “It won’t be the same - his payin’ us a wage and all - but we’ll take the same good care of him.”

  “I’ll tell him,” Carrie said gratefully. Then she pushed away from the table. “I have work to do.”

  “You want me to help you box them herbs up, Miss Carrie?” Opal asked.

  “No, thank you. I think I’m just going down and sort through them. I’ve lost track of what is actually down there. You can have Hobbs come down to help me after he’s up and has eaten his breakfast. Or lunch…,” she said with a grin.

  Carrie eased down the stairway into the basement. Cobwebs brushed her face and the air was musty. Sam and Opal must never come down there. She had wanted to come down on her own for a reason. She was glad Opal hadn’t pushed to help her.

  Setting her lantern down on the table, she ignored the rows of bottles gleaming at her temptingly. She wanted to do some exploring before Hobbs joined her. Carefully she walked around the shelves lining the wall of the basement room. They stretched from floor to ceiling in what looked like an unbroken line. Close examination revealed nothing that would indicate a hidden opening to the maze of tunnels running underneath the plantation. Carrie frowned, then reached for the lantern, and held it high to illuminate the shelves more.

  Her great-great-grandfather had been a crafty man. He had concealed the door in her room so well no one would have ever guessed it was there. It was all that had saved her when the Union soldiers had tried to capture her. Her ancestor would have hidden this opening just as well. The trick was to figure out what he had been thinking.

  Carrie walked back and forth slowly, staring at the walls of shelving carefully. Maybe she had been wrong about her location when she had been down in the tunnels before. She had been so sure that the crack of a door she had seen down there had led into this part of the basement. Maybe she had been turned around. She was about to give up when she suddenly noticed something. One brick along the outside of the shelves seemed to stick out a fraction more than the ones surrounding it.

  Carrie set the lantern down and stepped closer. Putting her hand on it, she pushed it slightly. Nothing. It seemed to be solidly in place. She sighed in frustration. It was just her imagination. She turned to move away but then stopped. Time could have made the brick stick in place. Once again she reached for the brick and began to try to shake it back and forth.

  Several minutes passed. The brick remained in place. Carrie was just about to give up when she felt the mortar move under her hand. Her heart began to pound with excitement as the brick gradually became looser and looser. There was just enough of it sticking out to enable her to grasp it with her fingers. She smiled triumphantly when she pulled the brick out; then she raised the lantern to peer inside. Her grin widened as she saw the rope handle hidden cleverly in the recess.

  “You were really something,” she murmured quietly to her long gone ancestor. As Carrie reached for the rope, she prayed it wouldn’t disintegrate in her hands. She needn’t have worried. The rope was still strong and supple. The brick had protected it all these years. She grasped it and tugged firmly. Slowly, but with great ease, a portion of the long wall of shelves swung toward her smoothly.

  Suddenly she heard footsteps overhead. A quick glance, with the aid of the lantern, confirmed the existence of the tunnel sloping away gently toward the river. Carrie nodded her satisfaction, then stepped back, and swung the door shut again. She had just replaced the brick, shoving it firmly in place, when she heard Hobbs’ voice overhead.

  “You down there, Carrie?”

  “Come on down, Hobbs,” Carrie called cheerfully. “I’m just starting to work on the herbs.”

  Moments later he was standing next to her and gazing in awe at the rows of bottles that stretched from floor to ceiling, on every wall of the big room. “You sure did a lot of work,” he whistled.

  “I thought it might come in handy some day,” Carrie said. “I’m glad I was right.”

  It was almost dark before Carrie and Hobbs finished boxing up the last of the herbs - packed in crates carefully to keep them from breaking. Sam helped Hobbs carry up the last box; then Opal called them in for dinner. Carrie ate hungrily, tired from her long day of labor but satisfied with the results. Unless the black hospital was hit with something terrible, there would be enough medicine to make it through the winter.

  “I’m going to spend the evening in my father’s office,” Carrie announced when she was finished. “I have some work I want to do there.”

  “What your plans for tomorrow?” Sam asked.

  “I’m going down by the river,” Carrie announced. “I’ve done all the work I intend to do. Tomorrow I’m just going to have fun.”

  Sam nodded his agreement then turned back to his paper. Carrie watched him quietly for a moment with her noticing the intelligent shine of his eyes and the thoughtful crease of his brow. How could people think blacks were an inferior race to whites? “You’d make a fine lord of the manor someday,” she said suddenly.

  Sam looked up and grinned. “Thank you, Miss Carrie. I reckons I would at that.” He shook his head. “Won’t be gettin’ a chance to do that, but I reckons I could have if things had been different.” He picked up his paper again. “You get on to your daddy’s office.”

  “Yes, sir,” Carrie said demurely. Sam’s laughter followed her from the room.

  Carrie stopped smiling when she entered her father’s office. She lit the lanterns along the wall and just stood quietly in the center of the spacious, elegant room and absorbed the essence of her father’s presence. She could still feel him there. Could almost smell the aroma of his pipe. Could almost see him bent over the plantation record books or brooding over a book. Could almost hear his ready laugh as she stopped in to talk with him. Tears welled in her eyes. She missed him. She missed the man who had encouraged her to be different from everyone else. The man who had cheered her on no matter what she did. The man who had taught her to be fair and never let bitterness rule her actions. What had happened to him?

  Carrie shook her thoughts away and began to roam around the room. She didn’t really know why she had come in here. Didn’t know what she was looking for. She had simply felt this strange compulsion. She had learned to listen to these quiet messages in her head. She walked slowly, her eyes scanning the bookshelves.

  Suddenly she stopped, a row of thick albums luring her. She reached out and grabbed the first thick volume, carried it over to her father’s desk, then settled down in the plush chair, and opened it carefully. “Family pictures,” she murmured in delight. She wasn’t sure she had seen them before. Most of the pages were empty, but the first few held pictures of her mother and father when they were children - then grown-ups. Staring at the bright happy faces in the pictures, Carrie examined them closely. When those pictures had been taken, neither of the confident people smiling up at the camera had had any idea his and her whole way of life would be shattered - that one would be taken by a sudden illness, leaving the other one behind to deal with this horrible Civil War.

  Carrie blinked away tears as she absorbed the looks of youthful innocence on her parents’ faces. Her heart also grieved for the generation living now that had already been robbed of their youthful innocence by the war. Carefree smiles had long ago been replaced with worry and sorrow.

  She continued to flip the pages slowly. Suddenly her hand froze. She picked up the heavy volume and held it closer to the light, poring over the face staring up at her. Her hands shaking, she flipped the picture over. “Thomas Cromwell III,” she muttered. Not able to believe what she was seeing, she turned it back over again.

  A sudden pounding of footsteps on the porch seized her attention. The front door flung open, crashing against the wall. Seconds later Carl’s young voice filled the hallway. “They’re coming! The Yankees are coming!”

  Carrie whitened and jumped up from the desk. Grabbing the thick volume, she slammed it shut and stuck it
under her arm. She reached the hallway the same time Sam did.

  “What you talkin’ about, boy?” he asked sternly.

  Carl nodded his head excitedly, his eyes wide in his face. “I saw them, Mr. Sam. I was comin’ back from fishin’.” He gasped for breath. “They comin’ here to the house. I heard them say so.”

  “Tonight?” Sam asked sharply.

  “I don’t think so,” Carl said, trying to catch his breath. “They set up camp just a mile or so from here. They say they was gonna come just before dawn and surprise us.”

  “What they comin’ for?”

  “I dunno,” Carl said. “I heard ‘em say something about looking for food.”

  “They aren’t going to get any of my food,” Opal snapped, walking up behind them. “Them soldiers got plenty. They aren’t taking what I worked so hard for all summer. I aim to feed you children all winter, and we need that food.”

  Sam turned to Carrie. “You gots to get out of here.”

  Carrie nodded quickly, her heart racing. “Get Hobbs.”

  “I’m here,” he announced from the shadows. “I heard enough. I’ll get the wagon hooked up.” He turned and disappeared.

  Carrie thought quickly. The rest of the children had gathered in the foyer and were staring in wide-eyed fright. “You don’t have anything to worry about,” she assured them. “Those soldiers aren’t going to take your food.” Then she began to give orders. “Amber, please go upstairs and pack my things, then bring them down to the wagon.” She turned to Sadie next. “Please take care of Hobbs’ things.” Then she turned to Sam and Opal. “Come with me,” she urged.