Flight for Life

by Stephy Smith

  Zaidee, Clara, and the women gathered dirty dishes, taking turns to wash, dry, and put them away. They laughed and talked while they worked as a team. Zaidee enjoyed the camaraderie, and the tales from the old women. Her heart was so light, she forgot her own troubles. For the first time since she’d left North Carolina, she was living in harmony with people she was formerly made to avoid.

  The men waited until the last dish had been removed before they carried the tables to a storage room. Some of them returned with guitars, juice harps, mandolins, fiddles, and even horns.

  The women finished putting the final dishes away. Then some of them lit kerosene lanterns and hung them on poles that lined the edge of the wooden dance floor, which the tables had concealed a few minutes before. Streamers of cloth hung on lower tree branches and glistened in the moonlight when the slight breeze blew.

  Benches they had sat on earlier to eat now lined three sides of the floor while the men moved bales of cotton to sit on. The music played softly at first. Zaidee listened to the rustling of women’s skirts when men offered their hands to join them on the dance floor. Couples filled the area as the music grew louder, and the dance was in full swing.

  Joseph extended his hand to Zaidee. Stephen and Clara danced along with the others. Joseph twirled her around the dance floor. Her heart lightened after a few rounds with him. Emma and Hannah tapped on Zaidee’s legs, she glanced down. “May we cut in, Miss Flora?”

  “Yes, you may.” She smiled down at the girls. They had adopted a grown-up persona to their two little bodies.

  Joseph released his hold on Zaidee. Before she could walk off, he lifted Emma with his free arm. Hannah took her place standing on the top of his feet, and her little arms latched onto his legs. Joseph pulled Zaidee back into his warm embrace and waltzed the three women around the dance floor.

  He never took his eyes off Zaidee. “Are you having a good time?”

  “This is wonderful. I don’t know the last time I was so happy.” Zaidee wanted to lower her head, but his gaze held her in a spell.

  Guilt rushed her mind. How could she dare enjoy herself? Not only should she be mourning her brother’s death but also the situation she had pushed upon Joseph. One night of dancing in his warm embrace, gazing into caring brown eyes, was more than she deserved. She glanced at the child in his arms and then down to the one on his feet. Moist pools blurred her vision.

  A tall, lanky boy ran up to Joseph. His words came in gasps as he pulled in breaths. “Excuse me, Miss Flora. Mr. Joseph, there’s a man hiding in the shadows. Leroy’s watching him, following him. We don’t know who he is.”

  Joseph let go of Zaidee. He placed the sleeping Emma in Zaidee’s arms and released Hannah’s hold from his legs. “Go tell your pa. He knows what to do.”

  “Joseph, wait. I need to tell you something.” She should resolve the situation before it got worse.

  “It can wait, Flora.” He held her at arms’ length and then turned back to the farmhands crowding around.

  Joseph hurried to Stephen, and the word spread quickly. Fear leapt into Zaidee, striking like lightning. The women were herding the children into the mansion. Clara latched her arm to Zaidee’s and followed the others inside. Five of the older teenagers took all of the children to the basement for safety.

  Zaidee worked her way to the window. Looking out, she gazed as Joseph, Stephen, and the rest of the men collected dogs from the kennel. They each took a lantern and disappeared into the dark woods. Sentries stood at the doors and windows. Tears filled Zaidee’s eyes.

  It’s all my fault. I should’ve told them before now. How will any of them ever forgive me for bringing chaos and destruction into their ever-so-peaceful lives? I don’t deserve kindness and care from any of these people. I sure don’t deserve their forgiveness.

  Clara silently stood beside Zaidee. A deep, heartfelt sadness set in. Zaidee peered at the troubled face of Clara, confused about how she could help erase the worried look she’d caused.

  Clara put her arm around Zaidee’s waist and hugged her slightly. “They’ll be all right. Don’t worry. Joseph and Stephen are safe with the men.”

  “Come sit, Miss Flora.” A large lady named Lola escorted Zaidee to a long table. Silver serving trays of tea and cups were brought in and placed on the smooth, polished surface. Some of the kitchen workers remained standing, passing out the cups of tea, and offering sugar and milk.

  “Thank you, Miss Lola.” Zaidee tried to hide her fears and still her shaky voice.

  “Now, don’t you go frettin’ none. Those men will keep yo’ Joseph safe. They’s worked side a side wit’ the Master’s for a longs while. They’s ain’t gonna let a thin’ happen to the Solomons,” Miss Lola said with encouragement.

  “But it’s me they’re after. If only—” The fear of doubt clouded Zaidee.

  “Miss Lola is right, Flora. Our men couldn’t be safer anywhere in the world than they are right now.” Clara patted Zaidee’s arm.

  “I don’t—”

  “Miss Flora, our men loves the boss. They’s got lots of respect for the man.” Miss Lola patted Zaidee’s other arm.

  “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. But I need to say something to all of you.” Zaidee paused. Her mouth opened.

  “We’re not slave, Miss Flora,” a slender black cook spoke up. “We’re free folk, friends same as you and Miss Clara.”

  “How can you say that you’re not slaves?” Zaidee was more confused than ever. This conversation was traveling a trail she couldn’t comprehend. “This has nothing to do with how the plantation is run. I have to speak to Joseph.”

  Zaidee glanced at Clara, who sat in silence and let the others tell their stories. She sat with humbled pride glowing in her eyes at the women’s words. For some reason, Zaidee got the feeling they were trying to divert her attention away from her problems.

  “Yes’m, we works for the man, but we’re not slaves. We’re free to come and go. Mr. Joseph and Mr. Stephen, they takes care of us, so we stay coz we wants to,” a gray-headed maid said.

  Another cook took up the story. “Tonight was our monthly celebration. Yo’ see, we’re family and friends. The Mr.’s hired us to stay with them. We live in real homes, not slave shacks. We has furniture, beds, and gardens. We has a sow pig and the Mr.’s lets us breed ‘em to his boar so’s we can have meat for our tables. We got’s milk cows and chickens so’s we have fresh milk for our babes and eggs for our men folk.”

  “We has clothes on our backs and monies in our pockets. This plantation ain’t like others. We likes it here, so we stay. It’s safer to stay and not mess with the ones who take slaves,” another said.

  “Oh, we do have some that decides to leave. The Mr.’s give them the papers so they ain’t picked up as runaways. We has big weddin’s and birthdays. We’re treated fair by the Mr.’s and Miss Clara.”

  “If work backs up at Solomon, we pitch in and help there. We all works together, ma’am. So don’t go frettin’ over the men out there. They’s all good men and would die for the Mr.’s.” Miss Lola puffed out her chest.

  The barking of dogs drew their attention back to the window. Zaidee jumped up but stood frozen, holding her breath while the others peered out. She wondered what fears ran in their veins. She didn’t ask, and they didn’t say. Zaidee knew it was more than the men searching the woods.

  Slowly Zaidee found the strength to move to the window. Shaking, she peeked out, lost in thought. She knew the prying eyes were someone who’d come in search of her. She wanted to protect the people who’d laid their own lives on the line to protect her. People who didn’t know what she had been accused of.

  The men put the dogs in their kennels. Then returned to the house. Many of them talking and shaking their heads in disbelief.

  “How could a person just disappear like that? What was he doing here, and who is he?” Stephen asked Joseph as they entered the house.

  “I don’t know. We know he was out there. Why was
he hiding? How many of them are there?” Joseph asked.

  “Mr. Joseph, the man was alone. We was watchin’ real close. He was the only one around,” one of the young farmhands said, his black eyes wide and pleading.

  “I know you tell the truth, Simon. I’m baffled as to why he was lurking in the shadows like a coward.” Joseph patted him on the back. “I’m befuddled.You did a good job.”

  “We’ll finish our dance another night. I think we could all use some sleep. We’ll search the area again in the morning.” Stephen said. “Tomorrow morning, I need a few volunteers to search Solomon before my family returns. We want to make sure no traps have been set and nothing stolen before we return. Anyone who wants to go with me, we’ll leave at six. Thank you for your help tonight.”

  The men and women mingled, and then slowly trickled out the door. Everyone was discussing the events of the night.

  Joseph walked to Zaidee. “You better get some sleep. Miss Lola has offered to stay with you. She’s a good woman.”

  “No, Joseph, I need to tell you something.”

  “Whatever it is, Flora, I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow. I need to meet with some of the hands before they leave.” Joseph left the room through the front door.

  Chapter Eight

  The treacherous moment pulled at his heart. Joseph shook his head and glanced at the window, where the beautiful face of Zaidee peered out. Twice tonight he had turned her away from telling him what he feared would be the end of her stay at his home. He wasn’t ready to let her traipse off into the unknown, running from her fears alone.

  Fears she was going to confess without thinking about her own well-being. Things she could reveal that would affect his life. Having her in his arms, her warm breath tickling his chest as he spun her around on the dance floor, warmed his heart. The sense of belonging within her embrace along with the two little girls comforted him.

  Now in the darkness, he searched for a man who was out to harm her. It would be over his last breath before he would let anyone take away the small amount of peace he could bring to her life. Even if it only lasted a few days. She would be free to leave as soon as he made sure she was safe.

  He strolled back toward the house with his head hung low. A low shuffle from the second-floor gallery caught him by surprise. He glanced up at the silhouette of the woman making her way to his porch swing. He drew in his breath and climbed the outside stairs. Her head slightly turned toward his footsteps.

  “Why haven’t you ever married?” Her voice was low but he recognized it as Zaidee’s.

  “Never met the right lady, I guess.” He took the seat next to her. “Have you ever been married?”

  “No.” He barely heard her whisper.

  “Flora. I’m sorry—” He wanted to explain but wasn’t sure how much he should tell her. They had followed the intruder’s footprints to the edge of the woods. A shiver passed over his body. Closing his eyes, he secretly hoped she hadn’t detected the seriousness of the situation. In a way, he knew she understood more than he did, but wasn’t convinced of how much.

  “There’s no reason for you to be sorry. I haven’t found the right suitor.” She leaned into his shoulder and rested her head on it.

  Silence dominated the cool evening air. He reached his arm up and slipped it across her shoulders. She shuffled her body closer into his. He breathed in the freshness of her as his desire burned to taste her again. With his free hand, he coaxed her face to him and lowered his lips to hers.

  His mind cried out to stop, but his heart jumped with the thrill of her response. He shouldn’t be indulging in something he knew he could never have. Yet deep inside, he didn’t care as long as he had her in his arms, her taste on his lips, and the warmth of her body pressed against his. He released his hold and ended the kiss. With a heavy sigh, he leaned against the back of the swing.

  Her hand was smooth on his face, and she pulled him toward her. The hunger of her lips pressed into his sent lightning coursing through his veins. When she parted his lips with her tongue, a moan developed in the back of his throat. She explored his mouth, tempting him into the depths of her heart, to fall into her core. There was nothing stopping him this time. Pushing harder against him as if she was trying to bury herself under his skin, and he let her.

  Later, he would deal with the outcome. For now he would enjoy what she offered. Then without warning, she pushed him away.

  “I— I shouldn’t have done that.” Her head lowered.

  “I didn’t mind. I was enjoying it, actually.”

  “You don’t understand.” The harshness of her words cut like a dull knife.

  “I understand you have problems.”

  “Just stay away from me. Go back to your room and leave me be.” Tears now slithered down her face and crushed his heart. He stood and stepped toward the door.

  As he walked off, her final words fell harsh, cold, and cruel. “Don’t come near me. Do you understand? Never come near me again. I don’t want your friendship or your protection. I don’t need you cluttering my life with your sweet kisses and understanding. I don’t need any of it!”

  Before he entered the house, he gave one last glance back. Women! What had he done? She was the one who instigated the last round of kissing. Now she was acting as if it were his fault. He shook his head, twisted the doorknob of his room, and closed the door behind him.

  In the quietness of his chamber, he paced. He punched his clamped fist into the open palm of his other hand. He walked to the window and stared out into the darkness. “What evil soul lurks in the darkness, stalking his prey as this man after Zaidee does?”

  Chapter Nine

  Her lips quivered. She rested her wet face in her hands, gasping between the sobs, as the weight pulled her heart down into the pit of her stomach. How could she have spewed forth such hideous words toward the only man who’d offered his protection and his home without question? He’d trudged in the woods after a threat that wasn’t against him. And what reward had she shown him? Nothing but deep, dark, hateful words intended to hurt him.

  Zaidee stood and leaned against the house. She choked on her own disappointment. Never in her life had she acted like that to anyone. Her body crumpled against the wall and slithered down to the floor of the gallery. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she pulled them to her chest and wept until she felt the presence of another being. She wiped her eyes and looked up.

  Miss Lola crouched before her and pulled her to her feet. She motioned Zaidee to follow her. Leading the way, she opened the door to a large room with two mahogany four-poster beds draped with mosquito netting. A couple of coal oil lanterns lit up the room. The light blue wall paint enhanced the white marble mantles at each end of the room. Armoires and dressing tables displayed decorated washbasins and stood close to the beds.

  Zaidee wiped at her lips as if she could erase the kiss she’d shared with Joseph. Her actions weren’t warranted. She had no right to kiss him as if she could vanish off the earth at any given moment. Not trusting herself to be near him, she prayed she could trust him enough not to come to her.

  Miss Lola approached with a clean handkerchief and handed it to Zaidee, then let her hand slide down her arm.

  Zaidee nodded. “I’ll be fine, Miss Lola. I’ll be fine.” She wondered how much she had seen or heard of that conversation with Joseph. She glanced around the room looking for a distraction. Then she froze.

  A portrait of a beautiful young girl hung above one of the mantels. Zaidee gazed at the likeness of Clara.

  “That was Miss Clara’s sister. She was thrown from a horse. She died from her injuries in the infirmary. Lawdy, you should’ve heard the wailin’. Men and women, black and white. Each mourned in their own way.”

  “She looks so much like Clara. How old was she?” Zaidee was thankful for the distraction, even though it didn’t quell the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “Sarah was fifteen when she died, a year younger than Clara. Those two and my
Cybil, they’s all inseparable. Clara and Cybil was with Sarah when she had the accident. Cybil come back for he’p and Miss Clara—she tried to stop the bleeding best she could. When we got there, Clara done took her shirt off and tied it ‘round poor Sarah’s head. Rockin’ back and forth, Clara held to Sarah. I don’t know how that child kept from losin’ her mind.”

  Zaidee looked into tear-filled eyes, her heart wrenched as Lola relived the horrible day. “My Cybil, she he’ped Miss Clara back to the infirmary when the men folk carried Sarah home. Sarah was in one of them deep sleeps. Playin’ with the angels, I ’spect. Clara and Cybil wouldn’t leave the girl. They stayed with her till the last breath left that child’s body.”

  A few tears slid down Lola’s cheeks. “Miss Clara sent for black dresses and veils for her and Cybil. They put Sarah in a beautiful red evenin’ gown and fixed her hair a top of her head to cover the gash. Miss Clara and Cybil, why they changed their clothes right then and there and stayed by Sarah’s coffin ‘til it come time to put her at rest in the ground.”

  Zaidee wrapped her arms around Miss Lola. Sympathy for Clara and Miss Lola mixed with her own pain. “What happened to Miss Cybil? I don’t believe I’ve met her.”

  More tears formed in the dark eyes. “She married a man from the Solomon, and that’s how Willowbend and Solomon plantations met. My Cybil, she refused to take to the bed when her time was near. A doctor come by and tol’ that child to get in the bed and wait for the baby.”

  Zaidee sucked in a deep breath.

  Miss Lola continued. “When it was time, Cybil lost all her strength. The pain was so strong, Cybil gave in. Her and the babe both died. Miss Clara was there the whole time. Miss Clara begged my Cybil to get in the bed, to follow the doc’s orders. Miss Clara, she would tell Cybil, now bless your stubborn hide, I lost one sister and I don’t plan to lose another. You get that body of yours in the bed or I’ll tie you in it myse’f.” Miss Lola took a deep breath and then giggled.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have stuck my nose where it doesn’t belong.” Zaidee lowered her head. When would she learn to keep her mouth shut? Now Lola was reliving hard times. If she had never run into Joseph and let him whisk her away into the lives of these nice people, they would be living happy, normal lives. And she would be more miserable or dead in some foreign land.