Darkness

Homochitto

Ayola’s

My little darling is taking such delight in the events of this day. She feels her mother’s joy very keenly, and that of Moses. She is not yet two years old, so she does not understand anything of the adult aspects of marriage, but she is fully aware that her mother has chosen to unite with Moses, and that this makes them both very happy. She even understands that they will be sleeping in a new home, although during the day their duties will remain the same.

Spending the day with Gregor has been a source of great pleasure for both of them. Playing with the children, hearing the drums, dancing, seeing all of the other slaves experience a day-long celebration, has all combined to make her happier than she has ever been.

It is marvelous to behold, to observe her Seer’s soul burning so brightly with her excitement.

The day is finally starting to come to a close. The sun has moved across the sky and is dipping below the treetops to the west. Guests have begun departing, including most of Gregor’s crew who are loading into their wagons to return to Natchez.

Gregor has Ayola in his arms again, while his family begins to say their farewells to the Duncans and to the new happy couple. Moses is eagerly yet nervously anticipating bringing his bride to their home for the first time. My beloved little Seer has a plan, a little gift that she hopes to make to her mother on her wedding day.

Ayola

Woosh is holding me again, and we are feeling the woosh together. “It is almost time for you to go see your new home,” he whispers to me.

I look up at him. “No,” I say, “not tonight.”

He leans back to look into my eyes. He looks surprised. I tell him, “Mama and Moses can go home, I will stay here with Hester.”

He gets a funny look on his face, then looks over to the side. He is looking at Wolk, listening to Wolk. Then Woosh says, very quietly, “Ahhh! You want to give them the chance to be alone together on their wedding night? To enjoy some privacy? How nice!”

I smile. Now he understands. He looks around at all the people standing with us. He looks over at Hester, and carries me over there.

“Hester,” he tells her, “I think it would be nice for Moses and Dalila to be able to enjoy the first night in their new home without needing to worry about this little one, don’t you agree?”

Hester looks at me, and I smile at her. “Will you put me to bed with you tonight, Esser?”

She smiles. She understands too. I give Woosh one more little hug, and he tells me, “Goodbye, Ayola. I’ll come and visit again soon.” He leans me over so that I can go to Hester.

Hester carries me to Mama, and tells her, “I’ll keep Ayola with me tonight, Dalila, you go on and enjoy your wedding night.”

Mama smiles. Her smile is very big. She kisses me on the cheek. Moses smiles. His smile is even bigger than Mama’s. He kisses me on the cheek too. They are still holding hands.

Mar-Mar says to Mama, “Congratulations, Dalila. I am so happy for both of you. You go on now, and we don’t expect either of you to come back to work at all tomorrow. I’ll see you the day after that. We’ll take care of the little one for you."

Everyone says goodbye to Mama and Moses, and they hold hands while they walk away, to the new house that we will be living in.

Everybody is very happy. It makes me very happy.

Dalila

Whose idea was this? I wouldn’t be surprised if my little Ayola, my happiness, is the one who came up with this plan. She always surprises me with her ability to understand far more than any other child her age possibly could. Did she suggest it?

Well, I can probably find out later. For now, I can think about only one thing. The most important thing. When I was kidnapped and brought to this land, I knew that my life would be nothing but fear and pain and toil and misery from that moment forward. But here I am, full of nothing but joy, and it is too unlikely to even question it. However it happened, it has happened. Moses is my husband, and I am his wife, and he is leading me by the hand to our new home.

He keeps lifting my fingers to his lips and kissing them as we go, but he is silent. The sun will be dropping below the horizon soon, and just a few golden rays are slipping through the leaves of the trees, shining on us as we walk.

He leads me to a fine house, and I wonder if we are going to greet the overseer, for this must be his home, but instead Moses just boldly opens the front door.

I look at him, confused. “Welcome home,” he says with a smile, then surprises me by reaching down behind my shoulders and knees, and sweeping me up off my feet. It makes me laugh, but I reach my arms up to wrap them around his neck, and say, “Why are we here?”

He leans down, as I rest in his arms, and kisses me on the mouth, then says, “Because this is your new home, Dalila. We are home.”

This? I am too surprised to say anything, but then he carries me across the threshold, and sets me down on the other side. I look around myself, and begin to realize that this can’t be the overseer’s house. There is some furniture in here, but not as much as he and his wife would have, surely. I see a table with some wooden chairs, and a rug on the floor, and an actual cast iron stove in the corner. There are shelves with some dishes, and a work counter for preparing food, and even a couple of pictures on the walls. There are two doors leading to other rooms.

“How can this be…?” I ask him. I can’t imagine how we could possibly be expected to live in this fine place. The slave cabins aren’t half this size.

“It is Gregor’s gift to us, love. This is what his crew was working on this week.”

I am overwhelmed, and words cannot come to me. But I wouldn’t have been able to speak them anyway, because Moses covers my mouth with his, and kisses me gently, then more passionately, and I feel myself melting in his arms.

We are alone here, married, in our home, and nobody will disturb us. The reality begins to sink in. This is not the garden shed with a flimsy door hanging off-kilter and a tiny cot, smelling of earth and plants and tools. No, this is our own place, and we do not need to be worried about anyone coming by, or coming in, or seeing what we are doing. We have never consummated our love, in worry of being caught, but also because, as he has told me many times, he respects me too much. He wanted to wait until we were married.

We are married now. I am truly his. I refuse to allow myself to remember that I also belong to somebody else. That does not matter right now. What matters is that my husband is embracing me, and that finally, for the first time, he will truly claim me as his.

He lets me go long enough to lead me across the room to one of the doorways, and into a chamber containing a large, soft bed, with beautiful blankets and pillows upon it. He gently lowers me to the mattress, his face filled with a passion so strong that he almost looks like he is in pain, and puts his hands on my body. On the body that belongs to him now, the body of his wife.

I give it to him gladly.

Jack

“Can I ride on the driver’s seat with Jake?” I ask.

Gregor shrugs. “That’s fine with me. Edith?”

Mother shrugs too. “Sure. We’ll see you at home.” She looks at Gregor, and says, “This day was very fine, Gregor, and I know how much you had to do with it. Thank you for inviting us.” She and Emily and Grace have already been helped up into one of the wagons that were brought to the wedding by Gregor’s crew, and they start off down the road towards Natchez.

Rosy gets into the cab of Gregor’s carriage, then Sarah hands her the baby and climbs in after her. Gregor watches from the saddle of his big horse while I climb up to join Jake on the driver’s bench of the carriage.

Jake is holding the reins of the horse, who is patiently waiting to start pulling the carriage.

“All right, Jake,” Gregor says, “you remember everything I taught you, right?”

Jake nods. “Jack,” Gregor tells me, “pay attention to what Jake is doing, you’ll want to know how to drive a carriage yourself someday.”

I am very impressed that my friend already knows how to do this. Gregor rides his horse right alongside us as Jake flicks the reins and the horse starts moving forward. It looks to me like Gregor is staying close so that he can grab the reins if Jake makes a mistake, but I would never say anything about that. Besides, Jake doesn’t need any help. He is doing a perfectly fine job, and the carriage is rolling along the road towards Natchez very smoothly.

Very soon we catch up to the caravan of heavy, lumbering wagons holding Gregor’s crew, and start passing them by with our lighter carriage. Jake and I wave at Mama and Edith and Grace as we pass them, laughing at how much faster we are going.

Gregor shakes his head and laughs as well.

He keeps Issoba right next to us, riding at the same speed, and he talks with Rosy who looks at him through the window. They chat like this until we get about halfway back to Natchez. “Wasn’t the music wonderful?” he asks her. “I’ve heard drumming like that before, but not for a very long time. I think it might be about the most beautiful sound in the world.”

She smiles, and starts to say something, but suddenly he goes stiff in his saddle, and interrupts her. “Darling, I’m going on ahead. I think I should check on Doctor Duncan, see if there are any new patients.” He seems very rushed. He looks up at Jake, and seriously says, “I have to rely on you to get them the rest of the way home, Jake.”

Jake knows how important this is. “I’ll do it, Gregor. They’ll be safe.”

Gregor nods, and spins around on Issoba, urging him to top speed, and in a moment has disappeared in the dust being kicked up by the horse’s galloping hooves.

Rosy leans her head out of the carriage to look at Jake. “You all right up there, Jake?” she asks him.

“I am,” he replies, trying to sound as confident as possible. “Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll get us home.”

I turn to him, and tell him, “You know how to do it, this will be fine.”

He nods. “I know. Gregor taught me.”

I ask, “Why do you suppose he had to rush off like that?”

He glances at me for a second, then looks back to the road. “Can’t you guess?” he says very quietly, almost in a whisper so that the ladies in the carriage can’t hear us. “I think that angel of his must be leading him. Somebody must need his help.”

“Ohhhh,” I breathe. “You’re right.”

We don’t talk anymore for the rest of the ride home. I want to let Jake concentrate on his task.