Later that day…
Lena sat on the porch watching the slaves come in from the field. Manny had left an hour before after their love making. Earlier Morris had gone out to see their progress on building a fence; Manny, Amos, Jordan and Henry were working on it in the far east field. They grew tired of going after cattle that continuously wandered off and it was that that he’d left her to return to.
Her body still felt the glow and throb of their love making and his overwhelming possession of her. She still couldn’t believe they’d made love with Mike there in the cabin. Thank goodness he didn’t wake up. Usually they made love only in the deep of the night when Mike was spending the night at Johnnypoe’s.
Or when Kayleen would come for her after Mike was asleep, staying there with him after Manny pleaded with her to watch him for them. It had become the way for them, when she showed up; Lena would grab her wrap and head for the big house kitchen door. There Manny would be waiting for her on the porch, leaning against the railing where he’d grab her in his arms kissing her breathlessly.
They would then enter going straight to his room, where the night would be spent with him making love to her. She smiled thinking about the times he’d sneak in from the fields to carry her off to a secret secluded spot by a pond where they swam in the nude and made love out in the open.
Lena sighed, waving at various slaves coming in from a day in the fields tending and cultivating whatever they were appointed to. All had smiles on their faces. Some men were being greeted by their mates who did not work in the fields, but around the barnyards, or in the weave houses. There was also smoke houses or the tallow house where they made soap and candles for all those who lived on Webster Fields.
There were slaves who also tended bee hives, and the house garden in addition to the small gardens along various cabins. Everyone was allowed to grow a small garden of whatever they wanted right near their cabins. Various women, including some of the older ones, voluntarily tended those. Then there were the members of the sewing circles…who stitched everything from ornate quilts, curtains and mattresses, to dresses and trousers. A store of them had been stocked so all had quick access were some type of garment needed. There were also those who did the washing and dying of fabrics made from the cotton grown there. And men that did the carpentering and building as well as patching up, fixing up, or building new cabins. Which were all wind secure, weather proofed and white washed within.
They also made furniture, and furniture repairs. All had a part in making Webster Fields, clean and orderly to thrive with a superior self-sufficiency assuring that they all lived very well compared to plantations and slaves elsewhere.
There was a steady growing noise stirring as more and more poured into the area of where their cabins were located. If one looked down at Webster fields from above…the mansion which faced south, flanked on both sides by cabins with more to the rear. North of the mansion were the servants who cared for the live stock, barns and orchard fields. The west cabins housed the field hands dealing with all crops…whatever they might be.
On the northeast corner, set off a distance from the slave quarters, was the carriage barn, horse stalls and corral, the black smith, carpentry house and smoke house. Down from there…the butcher house with attached pig pen for the prize hogs and pigs. Further to the North, the chicken coops.
In the northwest of the slave’s quarters was the weaving house. And next to it, the cabin where they made all the soap, candles, and jarred preserves from the orchard or vegetable gardens.
As Lena sat, the children seemed to come out of the woodwork from every direction, many from eight and older who wanted to go out and work, did so with their parents. The younger men of teen years were chasing each other to and fro, tackling one another roughly as they came along. She couldn’t help but laugh to see them healthy and happily playing, flicking each other with their shirts, which were off because of the heat. She knew watching them, that it was not the case on other plantations – that brought her a sense of pride in Webster Fields and the man who ran it. A few times Manny went into town, with Kayleen, Lena and a few of his men would ride on the back of the wagon to pick up needed supplies they were running short of at Webster Fields. She’d seen first hand the harshness done to many slaves at the hands of their masters; sending her spiraling down into such a depression…it would take Manny days to bring her out of it – for that reason, she avoided ever going again. The world outside of Webster Fields served as no interest to her, it was her world and she was content to remain there.
Lena thought about her own son as she pulled her knees up to wrap her arms around them. One day he would be tall and lithe; vibrant and strong…just as these beautiful young men were. Oh how handsome she knew he would be, and yes…free. He would be free and not just becase she’d always told him that he was! Now that Manny was going to claim him as his legal son, releasing him from being a slave – it would be truly so.
“Afternoon Ms Lena!” Candice, a young - newly married slave girl called to her who’d just come in from the fields after going there to meet her husband. She was heavily pregnant, expecting the baby any day now. “You back from the house early today, what’s wrong Ms Lena, you ailin’?” She asked approaching the porch. She was on her way to the kitchen because Kayleen was making a special cake for her husband…it was the day they’d chosen for his birthday…neither of them knew when it was, since he’d escaped from some other plantation further east near Jamestown making it to Mississippi. He hadn’t known where he was going when he ran. Nor the direction he was running in, all he knew is that he’d collapsed in a field where Amos found him, brought him to, and delivered him to Manny. He’d been there ever since.
“No, I’m fine. It’s Mikey…he’s not well.”
“I’ah go get Ma’Nicey…she know?”
“No…that’s all right, Kayleen and I saw to him. He’ll be fine.”
“Ah’right then, I hope he get t’feelin’ better soon. Let me get goin’. I tol’ Einnes I be back in no time…and he ain’t got no patience to wait!”
“You sho’ right I ain’t…I knew you wasn’t comin’ right back! Hey Ms Lena!” Einnes snuck up behind Candice surprising her, speaking to Lena. Candice spun in his arms that he wrapped tightly around her. Lena grinned withholding her greeting, they were no longer aware of her presence.
“I tol’ you I was coming right away…I got somethin’ to bring you! Na’ gon’ back to the cabin…I be right on.”
Lena chuckled as he clung long enough to get a kiss, happy he sprinted off to someone he was close friends with. Candice looked back at Lena shaking her head with a grin, and then went on her way to the mansion.
She thanked God often for their good fortune, ending up under the protection of a man like Manny. He couldn’t bring himself to beat anyone here; he won them over by reasoning fairly with them. On a rare occasion he’d receive some resentment, but the way he dealt with that was to open the gate, sort of speak, saying… “If you can find a place where things are guaranteed to work as you want them…by all means, head off. I’ll give you enough of what you need to help you get there.” No one ever went so far as to take up the challenge. They usually walked off realizing the stupidity of leaving Webster Fields. That was because everything about Webster Fields spoke volumes when it came to consideration, hard work, pride, love and appreciation. The cabins were strongly built with solid windows and strong doors; their exteriors were treated with oils and wax for extra protection against the elements. All dwelling there were given supplies to start their lives in a cabin once they came.
Four males to a cabin, three women to a cabin, upon marrying, a cabin of their own. Certain ones like, Ma’Nicey, Kayleen and other long standing ones who served a special need, had their own. Soap, candles, and a lantern with oil for it. Bed linens, furniture – clean, and sometimes newly made, decent clothing and anything else deemed necessary.
Lena began reminiscing about her arrival at Webster Fields so ma
ny years before. She’d cried and cried on the way there from Vicksburg. After her brave front had fallen, she was nothing more than frightened, throwing a tantrum and getting on everyone’s nerves in the process.
Back to 1799
“Would you hush yo’ cryin’!” One of the older women slaves grunted at her. “Ya’ makin’ me crazy… thas’ enough…all the way from town!” She went on to say, finishing with. “Na’ shet up! Heah me! Shet yo’ mouth!”
Lena had really let it out then, crying even louder, “Leave me be – say nothing more to me old woman!!” She yelled at the older grumpy woman. “I am not a slave!! I want to go home!! Do you hear me – set me free!!” She turned, wailing in direction of Manny as he drove the team.
At that point, Manny had heard enough. “Quiet down – you are going home! Your new home, now accept it!” He called over his shoulder. Heat shot through Lena making her scream out shrilly. “Noooooo! I will not!!”At her outburst, the other newly acquired slaves thought her insane.
Manny pulled the wagon over to the side of the road jumping down from the plank seat. Lena’s eyes grew huge following him as she tried to stifle her tears. He stopped at the end of the wagon standing legs akimbo glaring at her tear streaked face as she sat, sniffing and hiccupping. Kevin rode his horse to the back and stopped at the end of the buckboard leaning over his saddle saying, “Never known no nigger like that one before, a good whippin’ll take care of her.”
“When a nigger’s got as much brass as that one… a good five to ten minute strappin’ takes it right out’uv’im, real quick.” James joined in adding from his buggy. Manny cut them both a look that made them keep any further comments to themselves. Turning back to the problem at hand, he climbed into the buckboard, stepping over legs to get to her. Lena wasted no time backing up as far as she could, her head shaking the whole time as he reached down to unlock the chain from her. “No! No! I won’t cry again! What are you going to do to me? Don’t! No, I’ll be quiet!” She screeched pulling back on her chains and cuffs to keep him from unlocking them from her wrist, trying to convince him she’d be silent.
Manny grabbed her wrist pulling them forward to unlock them. The cuffs dropped to the buckboard with a loud clank. She shook her head desperately saying. “I’ll stop! I’ll stop! I promise! No more - see!” She clamped her mouth shut a second then repeated. “See!”
Ignoring her, he snatched her up from the buckboard, “Nooo!!” She shouted, struggling, Manny stood straight and lifted her despite her struggling and tossed her over his shoulder as if she were a child. Stepping over and around the others he hopped down with her kicking and screaming. He turned to his overseers and said very calmly. “I’ll be right back.” And walked off into the wooded area with her twisting, turning and pushing on is back begging him to release her. “Be still damn it and stop that squealing!!” He barked and slapped her bottom, hard, making her cry out.
After walking some distance from sight of his slaves and overseers, he came to a stop and deposited her from his shoulder to the ground. So sudden was her landing, she lost her balance and fell to her backside. To her horror, all the wriggling and twisting had dislodged her wrap making it slide down to expose her body’s charms. He took in the full and glorious sight of her firm rounded breasts before she could wriggle things back into place. Lena felt her face on fire with the shame of exposing herself to this towering man’s lustful gaze. Her heart hammered at the look in his eyes. She could feel her body shiver though heat emanated around her.
Manny stood high above her, his legs spread, his stance intimidating. He ignored the surge of desire growing in his loins and coldly stated. “I’m tired, and I’m hungry. We have at least an hours more drive before we reach our destination. If you so much as utter another sound before we reach that destination, I will be forced to remove this belt from my waist, and follow through applying it to your back side - repeatedly.” Considering her stubbornness, he thought out loud, “Perhaps it would be wiser for me to do so now, and avoid having to stop again,” he finished, reaching to undo his strap. Lena leapt from the ground, running up to him grabbing and stilling his hands.
“No, please…not another sound. Please…don’t. How can you be so cruel? Your eyes do not say this to me. Can you not understand? I don’t belong here…I am no slave for you to own – I am free – I am a human being – I – I just want to go home.” She pleaded softly, her eyes beseeching.
Manny had no intention of striking her; it was just an idle threat to get her under control. He swallowed staring down at her. His conscience was on fire from her words – but to let her go? To free her? To not have her as his own, to himself – his conscience was not that strong. The sun touched her face as it blazed through the trees, lighting her hair; kissing her smooth caramel flawless skin.
Those eyes…sent his heart to racing. Seeing her like this…so close to him, confirmed something he knew beyond a doubt, and that was he had to have her. Just the warm touch of her soft, small hands made his senses reel, his pulses soar. It was as if his eyes told it all, he wanted her…and Lena knew it. His touch made her tremble strangely, and suddenly his fingers were caressing her cheek, ever so softly… as if he feared scaring her away.
Lena’s stomach quivered, as those eyes of his held her captive. She wanted to get away from him, she had to, he started lowering himself to her, her heart was pounding much too fast…she couldn’t take it. The loud squawking of a soaring crow broke the spell and Lena dropped her hands from his and jumped back from him, shyly bowing her head. Manny felt as if a light had gone out. He tried to regain his composure, then gruffly ordered her,
“Back to the wagon … now!” Startling her, confusing her…one minute he was rough, then gentle…then rough again. “I don’t want to have to keep telling you – you are home – cease this fitting of yours – now get – now!”
Unwilling to provoke him again, she turned and took off ahead of him, not breaking her speed until she reached the road where the wagon sat, and hopped backwards on it. When Manny cleared the woods he looked straight at her. “Oh no…up front for you… next to me; this way you’re in easy reach.” He ordered.
Swallowing nervously she could only stare at him. He walked up, picked her up from the buckboard, then with his hand at her back, nudged her to the front, where he placed her on the seat. “Well…scoot over.” Again a gruff order. With her head down…she moved over. He climbed up, and they were off again. As the wagon pulled away, the older woman who first complained, cut a knowing look at another, who truly didn’t care about her silent sent message, she was concerned about her fate in this new master’s hands. As they traveled along the tree lined road of Okala, a few miles from the plantation, they came to a stop as they crossed over a small bridge that was built over a shallow brook. A long train of Indians were crossing over and blocking their progress through.
There were well over a hundred, pulling loaded travois’s behind horses. Others were loaded with large bundles of some kind, followed by women and children. Lena was thoroughly fascinated with them; their skin coloring was very dark, with clothing made up of buckskins. The men wore breech cloths over their buckskin leggings, and high moccasins. Some of the young maidens wore light colored doe skin dresses, their hair braided in one or two ponytails which shone like black silk or satin. In awe she stared at these new people.
Patiently waiting…Manny could not ignore the presence of her beside him, he took that opportunity to look at her after having watched her out the side of his eye during their travel. Her profile was magnificent…again, his stomach tightened up. He wanted to touch her; he wanted to trace the cut of her jaw line, running his fingers over her soft cheek. She was transfixed by the Indians…such a look of fascination in her eyes. Again, his stomach tightened.
“Who are these astounding people? They remind me of my father’s people, only their garb is different, hair, longer – they are beautiful.” Lena asked in a voice filled with breathless wonder.
&nbs
p; “They are of the local tribes, Indians-…” Manny answered easily. “Indians?” Lena repeated. “Yes, there are many. They are natives here, dwelling here before we came.”
“Natives – yes, people of this land. And, who is - we?” She asked again. Manny chuckled with a slanting brow. “You’re quite the inquisitive one, aren’t you?” It wasn’t so much a question, as it was an observation.
“We as in, us…” He hesitated, uncomfortable and unsure of how best to say it, but then, went on and finished with, “Us, we - white people.”
Lena turned from them to Manny. Her eyes went over his features carefully, then back to his eyes. He could see her mind actively thinking, as she evaluated him. “Are they subject to you? Work for you?” She asked. It was that question, right then, at that point, that made Manny sure, she was exactly what and who she said she was. Knowing it, made him want her even more…if possible. “No…they are not.” He answered softly.
“Why? Are you not a ruler of this land?”
“No…I am not. I rule only a small portion of land belonging to me and it is called Webster Fields. That and the people on it…are all that belong to me.” She turned back to watching the tribe cross. “I see. How did you come to be here? Did mighty vessels bring you as well?”
Manny actually chuckled, she was full of questions.
“Yes…I guess you could say so.”
“But no man bartered to own you. So – you are free, yes?” She stated knowingly …it wasn’t as much a question as it sounded, more of a statement.
Manny stared at her a moment, then looked back toward the tribe.
Princess Ces'alena (Webster Fields) Page 7
