Whispers of War

by Naomi Finley

  Roiling inside at her disregard for all reason, I staked heated words into her retreating back. “How can you be so selfish? Does my happiness mean nothing to you?”

  Her footfalls ceased, and my breathing caught.

  She gasped before her shoulders slumped.

  Pain slashed through my heart. “Forgive me,” I whispered. “I don’t mean to hurt you.” I crept forward and placed hands on her shoulders. “Mama?”

  She turned slowly to face me, and tears marked her cheeks.

  Regret staked my heart. “I’m sorry—”

  “No.” Looking at me, she smiled sadly as she raised her hands and adjusted my frock’s collar. “Bin luking ’round evvy corner so long, suppose I failed to see you grown. Reckon I bin acting a fool. You right, gal. I got a whole lot of selfishness too. A parent got a vision for deir chillums, and I reckon I saw you and my grandbabies staying wid me till de Lard takes my spirit home. But I wrong in holding you here. I ain’t no better den a slave masa.” She dropped her head and released a guttural sob as she shook with unmasked grief. “I sorry, gal, real sorry.”

  “I understand, Mama. I dread the day Noah or Evie seek to part from my side. But we must do what’s right by our children. If you cage a bird for too long, eventually they will seek flight.”

  “Dat be so. Guess I figured when you ’ccepted Mr. Barlow’s proposal dat you only be a carriage ride away. But dis plan to leave Charleston for good be hard to take. But, in time, I adjust lak any mother does.”

  “I never expected love would come my way again, and certainly not with a white man. Nor could I imagine a day I wouldn’t be at your side. But he has renewed my spirit in humanity and given me a desire to live a life that has purpose. To give my children more.”

  “And for dat, I owe him,” she said.

  “In time, I hope you will come to see what I love about him.”

  She balled a fist on her hip and regarded me as though I’d lost my mind. “And how you reckon I do dat ef ya’ll plan on hightailing et outta here?”

  “Mama!” I glowered.

  She shrugged before a cheeky smile appeared on her face. “Folkses from England sho’ do talk funny. Don’t reckon I ever git use to dat.”

  “You’re impossible.” I threw my hands in the air.

  She turned and occupied herself with gathering books before walking to the wall-to-ceiling shelf and placing them in their assigned spots. “Does angel gal know of your plans?”

  I strode and removed a book from her hand and placed it on the shelf she struggled to reach. “No, she has too much to worry about. I feared the news would cause unneeded grief.”

  “You right ’bout dat. But ef not now, den when?”

  “Soon.”

  After she had retired, I wandered out to the terrace, where Magnus waited on the porch swing. He stilled its movement and patted the seat beside him.

  “Tell me, what does Miss Rita say this time?”

  I walked to him and sat. “You know Mama, she can be as calm as a morning breeze one day, and a charging bull the next.”

  He laughed and set to tracing the top of my hand where it lay in my lap. The delight of his laughter calmed my nerves, and I relaxed back against the swing, observing his face as he concentrated on his finger’s movement. Goose pimples scurried over my arms and my heart skipped a beat or two, as it often did in his company. He was so tranquil, a trait apparent from the beginning. Despite the many times I’d pushed him away after he’d made his intentions known, he had proceeded with patience and the integrity I needed. In time, he had earned my trust, and even in our lovemaking, he had been tender but passionate.

  “I will miss her,” I said. “It’s always just been Mama and me. She did what she thought was best, and I don’t fault her for it. If the Hendrickses hadn’t purchased her, then we would never have come here, and Missus Olivia wouldn’t have given us our freedom. I will forever be grateful to them, and it’s because of this place that I met you.”

  “Indeed.” He lifted his gaze. “And if it wasn’t for my mother’s love affair with Charles, we would never have ended up here. Our lives will always be deeply intertwined with the Hendrickses.”

  I laced my fingers with his. “I worry what Willow will say when she discovers our plans extend beyond Charleston.”

  “I’ve come to know her as a reasonable woman, and one who cares deeply for others. She will come to accept you’re leaving, as your mother will. Besides, it doesn’t mean we will never return. I wish to show you and the children what lies beyond this plantation. There is a whole world out there to be discovered.”

  I looked into his eyes, seeking comfort for the worries plaguing me. “A world I’ve learned to fear.”

  “A fear that can be extinguished.” He stroked my cheek.

  “But it’s not only my fear of being outside the protection of masters, it’s the reactions to our union. Are you willing to spend your life being ridiculed for marrying a mulatto and becoming a father to Negro children?”

  “I’ve witnessed my parents’ struggles over their union, and I know the hardships they’ve faced. But I also see the love they hold for each other. If they had paid heed to the alienation of friends, family, and strangers, they would have missed out on a lifetime of happiness that fate deemed was theirs.” He captured my chin with his fingers and lowered his lips to meet mine.

  Placing my hands on his chest, I welcomed his kiss. The desire to pull him closer arched my body, and I wrapped my arms around the nape of his neck, drawing him nearer. His lips smiled, and I melted into his embrace, my heart singing to the melody of his.

  In his arms I had found refuge, the sense of wholeness and security I’d felt before Rufus and his men had raped me. Back when naivety had me regarding Mama’s fear of men and their intentions as her paranoia. He had provided me with a sense of safety I’d never felt with Gray. Although my husband would have given his life to defend me, he was but a slave in a system that left him powerless.

  When he released me, I scooted into the warmth of his side and rested my head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he whispered into my hair.

  “For choosing me.”

  “It is I who should offer gratitude. After Charlotte died, I didn’t know if love would find me again. The promise of a new life in America, where I wasn’t reminded of her, was a needed escape. From the moment I caught a glimpse of you in the wagon, I was smitten. Although you had no eye for me,” he said with amusement. “There was a hunger to know you better. I’m thankful that, eventually, you came to your senses and realized my intentions were pure.”

  Some time later we moved to the rockers, where we sat talking for the next several hours, lost in our dreams and aspirations until he fell asleep. Soon after, I dozed off, but awakened some hours later, my mind troubled with how I would tell Willow of my upcoming departure. Although I considered her easier than Mama, I didn’t want to see the pain in her eyes that I’d seen in Mama’s. The thought sickened me. But she had Bowden now, and Mama had Big John. The time was right. It couldn’t be better, in fact, I consoled myself.

  I glanced at Magnus, slumped in a rocker to my left with is hand hanging limply over the side. His chest rose and fell with sleep, and the peacefulness of his face and his soft breaths lulled me. Entwining my fingers with his, I relished the warmth of his flesh against mine. His love had been the cure I’d spent years seeking, and I needed him more than I had needed anything in a long time. My eyes teared up with love and gratitude for his appearance in my life.

  I peered into the twilight. Soon the plantation would shake from its slumber, and cabin doors would swing open as folks wandered out on their stoops to stretch and behold the start of a new day. Short of sleep, the day promised to be long for me, but the bliss enveloping me would give me vigor for the day.

  I pulled to my feet, rubbed the ache in my neck from a night of improper sleep, and looked down at Magnus. I smiled and leaned to kiss his cheek.
r />   He stirred, and his lids fluttered open, confusion in his eyes. Glancing around, he sat up. “Fell asleep, did I?”

  “It appears we both did,” I said.

  “It’s almost dawn. Mum has probably been pacing the floors with worry.” He stood and pulled me into his embrace. “I shall blame you for my disappearance,” he informed me, amusement in his voice. “‘Intoxicated me with her company’ is how I’ll start off.”

  I laughed and pushed back to look at him. “Blame I will gladly—”

  We jumped as a terrifying cry broke the silence. Magnus gripped my arm at the thunder of approaching horses. He bolted across the wraparound terrace toward the front, and I followed close on his heels.

  “God in heaven!” he said.

  “What? What is it?” Fear gripped my throat and hammered in my chest. I peered around his shoulder at the glow of torches and horses plummeting down the ridge.

  He pushed me back in the direction we’d come. “Quick, send up the signal. Go quick.”

  I charged back to the bell hanging from the rafters on the back veranda, and rang it with all my might. Tears blurred my vision as the thought of my children asleep in the quarters.

  Mama, groggy from sleep, stumbled outside, and several house slaves followed after. “What is et?”

  “Men. Lots of them. Get the rifles and prepare to defend as Masa Bowden showed us,” I shouted in panic.

  “De babies.” Mama bolted for the steps, but I pulled her back.

  “No, Mama. Stay inside.” I bounded down the back steps.

  “Mary Grace!” Magnus’s voice struck at my back.

  I flew across the work yard as if terror itself were at my heels. Not my babies. Please, God, help us!

  “Mary Grace.” Someone grabbed my arm and reeled me back.

  “Let me go.” I clawed at my captor. “My children. I must get to them.”

  “What is happening?” I recognized Masa Ben’s voice.

  I ceased my struggle for a brief moment. “T-they’re coming.”

  “Who?” He shook me with urgency.

  “I don’t know.” My chest heaved with sobs. “Riders coming from the ridge. Lots of them.”

  Behind him, wide-eyed quarter folks spilled into the work yard.

  Masa Ben released me, and I bolted as his voice carried behind me. “Mothers, get your children to the river. Everyone else, fall into position.”

  At the cabin I shared with my children and another family, I threw open the door and collided with someone. My head spun from the impact, and hands gripped my arms to keep me from falling.

  “Mama?” Fear strummed in Noah’s voice.

  My gaze focused on my son. “Noah,” I sobbed. “Oh, my baby.” I clutched him to my chest and kissed his face repeatedly.

  “What is it, Mama?” He trembled.

  I broke away and looked at the gawking faces of the family. “Trouble. And lots of it.”

  On the cot I shared with my daughter, I noticed her sleeping form. I raced to the bedside, threw back the blankets, and attempted to jostle her awake, but she slept on without flinching. “Evie!” I screamed, glancing over my shoulder as the family raced from the cabin. I nudged her harder, and she stirred but turned on her side, facing away from me. I scooped her into my arms and staggered under her weight.

  Noah dashed forward to assist. “You’re scaring me, Mama,” he said.

  “And with good cause.” I pushed his sister into his arms. “Take her and go to the river with the others. Stay there until I come for you.”

  “But what about you?” Terror gleamed in his eyes.

  “I will be fine.” I kissed Evie’s cheek as she awakened.

  “Mama.” Panic clotted her voice. “What is happening?” She scanned the door hanging ajar and the empty cabin before throwing her arms around my neck. Her nails bit into my flesh.

  “Evie, listen.” I pried her off me. “You need to run. Run as fast as your legs will carry you. Do you hear me?”

  She bobbed her head as Noah lowered her to the floor. He clasped her hand tight in his.

  “Good girl. Now do as he instructs—”

  Gunshots cracked. One shrill reverberation after another.

  Evie screamed and cupped her hands over her ears.

  “Go now!” I shoved them toward the door. “Stay put until I come to you.”

  Noah rushed out the door with Evie struggling to keep up.

  From the stoop, I watched them join the women and children fleeing for the river until they disappeared over the bank. “Watch over them,” I said into the chill of the morning.

  All around me, harrowing screams reverberated, mixed with horses whinnying, the crack of gunshots, and wafting smoke. I twisted to look back in the direction of the big house, but it was blocked by outbuildings and cabins. My heart hammered harder at the sight of flames stretching above the rooftops. I craned my neck in the direction of Charleston as cannons thundered in the distance, and the sky radiated shades of crimson, orange, and mauve. My limbs shook, threatening to crumple beneath me. Was the town under attack? Had war finally erupted? Perhaps Lincoln had commanded Major Anderson to set his men on Southern plantations. My mind raced with possibilities.

  Howls of exhilaration rose three cabins down, and I crouched low as men kicked open cabin doors; inhabitants’ shrieks followed. Tears of pure panic streamed down my cheeks as I gripped the hem of my dress and ran back toward the main house.

  I found the work yard overrun with riders, and slave folk armed with rakes and hoes and some with guns. I scanned the chaos for Magnus and Mama, to no avail as horses blocked my view, and I pressed my hands against their chests to avoid being trampled. I ducked when I felt the breeze of a rider’s hand as he tried to grab me on his way by. Evading his grip, I darted around a fallen horse, lying injured, its lifeless rider pinned beneath its weight.

  Glass shattered as a rider launched a torch through an upstairs window. Mama! I leaped over wounded slaves and riders as I pushed on. Then I froze as a rider’s face snatched the very breath from me.

  No! It’s impossible. But as I got a full look at his face, my own screams joined the nightmare unfolding around me. The man twisted in his saddle at my cry, and Rufus McCoy’s eyes widened before a devilish grin broke across his face. Kicking his heels into the sides of his mount, he charged toward me.

  Snapped from my trance, I fled. As the back steps came into view I pumped my legs faster, glancing over my shoulder to find Rufus advancing. I burst into tears at his sinister grin. He kicked vigorously at his horse’s flanks to gain speed. I looked back at the house, tripped over an object, and struck the earth so hard my teeth rattled and pain shot through my body. Looking at the lump responsible for my fall, I recognized the dead form of Parker’s pappy. Next to him lay the lifeless body of the weaver woman’s husband, a rake still clutched in his hand. This can’t be happening. My mind raced to the children. Had they made it to the river? What about Mama and Magnus? Where were they?

  I saw Jimmy, a short distance away, as he dropped to his knees. A uniformed white man towered over him. No. Grief crushed my chest.

  A shadow loomed over me, and I swung back as Rufus reined his horse to a sudden stop to avoid crushing me. I felt the draft as the beast reared up on its hind legs.

  “We meet again, my little pet,” Rufus said.

  Using my elbows and heels, I scooted back before twisting onto my side and pushing to my feet. He dropped to the ground behind me and seized my ankle. The smell of his stagnant breath revolted my nostrils and flooded my memories with his mouth seeking pleasure from my bruised, naked body. No, no, no! I twisted and kicked with all my strength, jabbing the heel of my shoe into his shin. Again and again, I kicked until his wails rose, and I broke free. I scrambled to my feet and sprinted away.

  The massive body of a horse blocked my path, and my heart skipped when I looked up into the unsmiling face of Rufus’s brother, Reuben McCoy. A shot rang out, and he jerked as a bullet struck him in the
head, but instead of falling, he slumped forward, gripping the mane of his horse.

  I swerved around the beast. Fingers seized the back of my dress, and I screamed and twisted to free myself, feeling the fabric give as my dress ripped.

  “You can’t run from me.” Rufus’s fetid breath heated my neck. “I will bed you this night.”

  “Duck, gal!” Mama’s voice rang loud and clear.

  I gawked at the lower step, where she stood with a rifle at her shoulder. I dropped to my belly, and the crack of a gun rang in my ears.

  I heard a gasp behind me, and I turned my head to see Rufus clutching his chest, blood oozing through his fingers. Mouth agape, he sank to his knees.

  Mama marched across the yard as though the chaos around her had evaporated. Eyes fastened on Rufus, she advanced. Passing a dead slave, she swooped with astounding swiftness and retrieved a hoe from his grip without so much as a glance sideways.

  A thump made me whip my head back to Rufus, who had collapsed face-first.

  “You never hurt my gal again.” Mammy swung the hoe high above her head and brought it down into Rufus’s skull. “Never again.”

  I lay unmoving, dumbfounded as she struck again and again, the warmth of his blood speckling my face. “Mama,” I whispered, but it fell on deaf ears in the heat of her determination.

  Energy spent, she dropped to her knees beside him, and a sob escaped her. I crawled to her and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, gaping at the brain matter oozing from Rufus’s skull. I gulped. “He’s dead for good this time.”

  “And I would kill him again. He ain’t de first I killed for thinking he gonna take something dat ain’t his for de taking.”

  My brow puckered at her statement, but there was no time to ask questions. “If we don’t find cover, we’re as good as dead out here.” I hauled Mama to her feet and, crouching low, we dashed toward an old wagon engulfed in high grass and weeds.

  “Get in.” I pushed her down and, with effort, she scurried under on her belly.