Darkness

Samuel Postlethwaite

I really have to try to get over this feeling of unease I always get around Gregor now. He is truly a nice young man, and I have enjoyed our interactions together over the last couple of years. He has come to me for help from time to time, on a number of issues, not restricted to just his banking needs. I am always happy to offer guidance to a youth the age of my nephews.

But ever since that day in the town square, where we all watched with a spooky sense of something terribly unnatural happening while the slave patrol beat him, I haven’t been able to see him as the same young man I know.

Even before that, there has always been something very unusual about him, of course. Not just his wealth, or the sometimes casual way that he treats his money. Not even his marriage to a girl from a brothel, although I must say that worked out very well, as she is a sweet girl and a good mother to their little one.

No, there is something else about Gregor, something undefined, that has always kept me guessing, along with half the town. But it was always more entertaining than mystifying before. Now, when I see him, I get a little jolt, and my heart starts pounding, and my stomach starts fluttering, and I want so much for him to talk to me, yet I am afraid that he will. It is the most confounded thing, and it can’t be good for the bank for me to be so flustered every time I see our biggest investor. I have to get control of myself.

I keep going to church hoping for answers, but Pastor Colbert hasn’t been able to settle my mind. He clearly thinks that Gregor is a bad influence on the town, with his crew of people of all races treated equally and now all wearing a blue vest to mark their employment. He thinks it’s wrong, and he preaches that the bible says so too, but I’m starting to doubt the way that he applies biblical passages to his lessons. Half the time I leave church thinking that I am being ridiculous and I have to just pretend that the whole thing never happened and start treating Gregor the same as I used to. Just as a kindly uncle figure helping a younger man navigate his way through financial issues and life in general.

But then I will see Gregor, and once again get that strange thrill of excitement, or panic, or adulation, or fear - I’ve never been able to define it. Or to get over it. I wish I could.

When he goes, I feel my pulse quiet back down, and wonder like always why on earth he has this effect on me. I take a drink of my whiskey to steady my nerves, then ask my nephew, “Samuel, what cabin were you talking about?”

He is sopping up the last bit of gravy on his plate with a piece of bread. “It’s out on my brother’s plantation,” he says, savoring every last bite of his meal. “Gregor is having his crew build a cabin for Moses.”

“Moses?” I ask.

He looks at me and tilts his head. “You know, Uncle, Gregor’s former houseman, who lives at Homochitto now?” I shrug. I try to keep up on the gossip around town, but trying to keep track of everyone’s servants and slaves would just be too much. “Well,” he goes on, “Moses has proposed to Dalila.” Before I get the chance to ask who that is, he clarifies. “She is Margaret’s maid. Stephen is allowing them to get married, and Gregor is building the cabin for them to live in.”

I think about it while I take another sip of my drink. “Why go to all the trouble to build a cabin? Why wouldn’t they just live in the slave quarters?” I ask.

“Because Moses is free, Uncle Samuel, remember? Gregor doesn’t hold slaves.”

I stare at him, and try to untangle that. A freeman is marrying a slave on my other nephew’s plantation? Why on earth is Stephen allowing it? How could he be a full master to a slave, when a free man can claim rights over her as a husband? I shake my head, and wonder what Pastor Colbert would have to say if he knew about this.

Gregor

Leaving the club I silently ask Wolk, “Do you think poor Samuel is ever going to get over this?” He knows I mean the elder Samuel, who once again was visibly flustered by my presence. It does make me feel bad, but I have no idea how to put him at ease.

“I do not know, beloved,” he tells me. “Samuel seems quite susceptible to the emotions that his Guardian is experiencing. Some humans are particularly sensitive to this, and he is apparently one of them. His Guardian is quite focused on your Seer status, always very attentive to your words and actions whenever you are nearby. This is contributing to Samuel’s inability to remain calm in your presence.”

I sigh. I’m glad that the glamour is back to full strength, so that Wolk and I can silently gossip about Samuel’s Guardian without being overheard. I have no idea how to calm the situation with either Samuel or his Guardian, or with so many other of the townsfolk. Maybe I should stop avoiding him, try to spend more time with him, rather than less as I have been doing. Being around me makes him uneasy, but maybe if it was more frequently it would begin to seem normal again. If being around me feels habitual maybe it could reduce the tension. After spending the whole day working alongside my crew today for the first time in two months, I definitely had the sense that they were thawing towards me.

When I get back down to the boarding house, dinner is still in full swing. It doesn’t look like most of the men are planning to go to the taverns or brothels tonight. We were back late from Homochitto, and will be leaving again at dawn, so they know they need to get some rest. Good thing, because I’m about to add to their burden.

As soon as I arrive, and realize that my entrance doesn’t generate an awkward silence in the room, I start to think that working together on the cabin really did help my standing with the men who were still uneasy. Maybe it was a mistake to isolate myself for the past couple of months. Just one day of laboring alongside them seems to have helped them see me as just a normal fellow again.

Wolk rolls his eyes. All right, fine, admittedly not exactly normal, but at least more accepted. When I enter the dining room, I hear a welcome burst of greetings, laughter, and teasing. Ahhhh. It makes me happy.

I make the rounds, smiling and greeting and shaking hands, then after a few minutes I raise my voice to attract their attention. “Hey fellows, great work today. I’m amazed at how much we got done. I hadn’t expected to be so far along on the project. Cheers to all of you!” I raise a glass that somebody has thrust into my hand, and there is a robust round of cheers.

When that quiets, I say, “I’m glad we’re ahead of schedule, because for tomorrow, I’m afraid I’ll need to ask some of you to stay here in Natchez.” Some “awwwwwws” and “huhs?” are heard. “I found out from Doctor Duncan that there are a few new cases of yellow fever in town again, so I have offered to let him use the boarding house extension as a sick ward. That seemed to be very convenient for him last time.” The men look at each other, nodding their heads. “So, I’d like maybe half a dozen of you to stay behind. We’ll need to have a crew with a wagon to transport patients from their homes to Under-the-Hill, then some folks to stay down here and help out with whatever the doctor needs. Just give it some thought, and let me know in the morning whether you’d rather do construction or nursing duty tomorrow.”

I know they’ll sort it out. They’re such a good group of men, and I am so fond of each one of them.

I move over to Polly, who is busy still serving the meal to the men, but I want to ask her something. “Just quickly, Polly, when you’re done with dinner, can you please have enough bedding sent over to the extension for about a dozen beds? Just have them dump it in there, I’ll go down in the morning to set it up and make the beds.”

She looks at me like I have just insulted her. “We’ll make up the beds, Gregor, don’t worry.” Clearly she doesn’t believe that I am capable of doing it right.

I lift my hands in surrender. “Fine, fine,” I say, smiling. “I know how to make beds, but if you insist, I’ll let you do it.”

David is nearby, watching her as he always does, and he grins. “Hoo boy, Gregor, don’t get her dander up. She’s a lot scarier than she looks.” Truly, I think with amusement, she must be, because she is the least scary-looking person imaginable, with her apple cheeks and blonde locks and slim physique. She gasps with indignation and whacks him with the dishcloth she’s holding. “See?” he says, ducking.

It makes me laugh. Wolk watches me, pleased. “It is nice to see you happy again, darling.”

I am feeling happier than I have in a while. By helping Moses and now Samuel, and with the crew starting to treat me normally, things are starting to feel like they’re falling back into place. I’m even optimistic that we’ll be able to keep the yellow fever under control.

I wave around at the group. “All right, fellows, I’m heading home. Get some rest tonight, it’ll be a busy day again. Let’s plan to leave for Homochitto right at dawn.

I hear a chorus of good nights as I head home, looking forward to seeing Rosalind.