Under the Tulip Tree

by Michelle Shocklee

  “Well now, that’s somethin’ to be proud of.”

  We ate in silence. I noticed a glass of water on the table beside my chair. Although I could have used some to wash down my lunch, I left it where it sat. I didn’t want to visit the outhouse again.

  Whether or not Mrs. Washington took notice of my ignored water, she drank her fill. When she settled back against the chair, she watched me with a look that could only be described as knowing. Finally she spoke.

  “I’d venture to guess you ain’t never used an outdoor privy before today.”

  I stopped chewing the bite of cheese I’d just taken, wondering how she’d guessed. Swallowing the lump, I shook my head. There was no reason to lie. “No, ma’am.”

  After a moment, she chuckled. “Your face gives away too much information. I seen you come outta that outhouse like you was on fire.” She chuckled again, then shrugged. “We always talked ’bout having an indoor bathing room added on, but the money seemed needed for something more important every time. After all these years it don’t make any sense to worry over one now. I’ll let whoever lives here after I’m gone bother with it.”

  I couldn’t think of anything more important than the sanitary convenience of an indoor lavatory, so I simply nodded.

  She grew somber. “I’d have given anything for use of an outhouse the day I went to be Miss Charlotte’s companion.”

  That was my cue to set aside our simple repast and return to the interview. I retrieved my notebook and pencil, wondering what she meant as I began jotting down her words.

  “Yes’m.” She stared off into the distance as though remembering that long-ago day, massaging her deformed hand. “One trip to the outhouse woulda saved me a lifetime of pain and suffering.”

  “Hold still, Frankie.”

  Aunt Liza, a woman of no relation to me, gave my shoulders a firm shake to stop my fidgeting while she attempted to poke pins into the hem of one of Miss Charlotte’s cast-off dresses. The smooth, soft, green material with tiny white dots felt wonderful against my skin after wearing coarse cotton all my life, but the lace around the neck and cuffs itched something fierce.

  “I can’t help it.” I yanked again at the stiff fabric to keep it from irritating me.

  Aunt Liza huffed and glared at Mammy where she sat peeling potatoes. “Lucindia.” Aunt Liza’s scowl landed on me again even as she spoke to Mammy. “This girl ain’t got no understandin’ of manners. She done talked back to me three times already, and I ain’t even got this dress half finished.” She brought her nose up close to mine. “You stand still or I’ll take a switch to you.”

  Mammy sent me a look that told me she’d take a switch to me too if I didn’t behave.

  The kitchen was full of wonderful aromas, and my stomach reminded us all I hadn’t eaten anything since early that morning. Mammy brought me to the big house before the sun came up, since Miz Sadie had approved of me the day before. I had yet to play with Miss Charlotte, what with all the instructions I was given of things to do and not do, say and not say, and the fitting of two dresses and cotton pantalets.

  House slaves came and went while I stood as still as I could. Finally Aunt Liza heaved a satisfied sigh. She lifted the dress over my head, leaving me bare from the waist up. I giggled seeing the new snowy-white pantalets against my dark skin, the funny undergarment feeling as strange as it looked.

  “I’ll have this hem done in no time, so don’t go nowhere.” The woman made her way to a chair in the corner to sew the garment while I hopped down from the stool she’d stood me on. Mammy had finished the potatoes and was now busy washing a stack of pots and pans.

  “I’m hungry.” I eyed two large apple pies cooling on the counter. I hoped I would get more sweets now that I was Miss Charlotte’s companion. Mammy sometimes brought us treats when there was a big shindig at the plantation, but I had to share them with Saul and the little ones.

  Mammy dried her hands on her apron. “You can have a slice of bread and some milk. That should keep you till you eat your supper with Miss Charlotte. She takes her meals in the nursery before we serve the grown folks. Master Burton used to, but he nearly grown now, so he joins them in the dining room.”

  While I looked forward to eating with Miss Charlotte, I dearly wanted a piece of pie now.

  Mammy settled me at the worktable with my meal and returned to her task. I was glad she’d poured me a large mug of milk since I usually only got a small cup in the quarter. The old mammy there always gave the babies more than us older kids.

  Aunt Liza finished sewing at the same time I swallowed my last gulp of milk. She hustled over and settled the dress on me, tugging here and there until she was satisfied. She fastened the row of buttons down the front, then stood back to examine me.

  “Well, now, don’t you look purty.” Her brief smile vanished as fast as it had appeared, and she leaned toward me. “Don’t you let this dress get soiled, you hear?”

  Mammy came over and knelt in front of me. Her eyes were shiny, and I wondered why she’d get all teary over a dress. She fussed and fiddled with my hair, the itchy collar, and finally deemed me presentable.

  “You be a good girl, Frankie.” She gave me a stern look. “Do everything they tells you, even if you don’t like it.”

  I nodded. Then I twirled, letting the skirt fly out around me. Mammy laughed, and even Aunt Liza grinned.

  “Come on, chile.” Liza took me by the hand and led me out of the kitchen, a separate building from the big house, through a door I’d never entered. “Miz Sadie be in the parlor.”

  My inspection by the mistress of the plantation yesterday had taken place in the kitchen, so my excitement nearly bubbled over as I moved through the big house, eyes wide, and my whole self full of wonderment. I vaguely remembered seeing the grand rooms and pretty furnishings at Christmastime when Mammy and us chillens were brought in to receive sweets and new clothes. Master and Mistress were good to give all their people something nice to celebrate the day the Lord was born, or so Mammy said. But today I wasn’t here for only a few treasured minutes. I would be allowed to walk freely through the grand house with Miss Charlotte, playing in areas I’d only heard about from Mammy.

  Aunt Liza led me into a room with pale-blue walls and soft carpet. Pretty furnishings and doodads filled the space, but I remembered not to touch anything. A large painting of an old man stared down at me from above the fireplace mantel as we came forward. I wanted to stick my tongue out at him, but I knew Aunt Liza would box my ears.

  “Here she is, Miz Sadie.” Aunt Liza nudged me forward to stand in front of our mistress.

  Miz Sadie sat on a bright-red cushioned bench. She seemed wider than she had yesterday, but maybe that was because she was sitting down, with her voluminous skirt spread around her. Her puffy face still reminded me of a hoot owl, but I did admire her yellow hair and blue eyes, mainly because they were so different from our folks down in the quarter.

  “My goodness, she looks like a different child.”

  “Yes’m,” Aunt Liza said, a hint of pleasure in her voice.

  I stood silent while they discussed the virtues of the dress, with Aunt Liza showing off the neat stitches she’d recently applied to the hem. Unfortunately, the shoes Miss Charlotte had outgrown did not fit despite her being two years older than me. Miz Sadie frowned at this information, declaring it improper for me to traipse about the house barefoot. Aunt Liza assured her they would locate a pair of shoes for me posthaste.

  “Have you instructed her on proper behavior?” Miz Sadie studied me with narrowed eyes, and I felt like one of Saul’s worms on a tobacco plant.

  Aunt Liza commenced telling the tale of my instruction, declaring me quick to learn and obedient to all I was asked to do. It surprised me to hear her brag on me, since she’d told Mammy I was ill-mannered.

  The minutes dragged on while the two women conversed. I tried to remain as still as I could, but the scratchy lace aimed to vex me something awful. Aunt Liza seemed to forg
et about me and changed the conversation to supper plans, wondering if Miz Sadie would prefer roasted chicken or spiced beef.

  In the middle of this homey conversation, Master Hall arrived with Master Burton and Miss Charlotte. Miss Charlotte, the spitting image of her mama, wore a dress similar to the one I had on, and I wondered if she had itching issues too. She sent me a small smile when our eyes met.

  “There’s my darling.” Miz Sadie motioned Charlotte to her while Burton remained next to his father. Although I’d seen him from time to time crossing the yard or when he went riding, viewing his lanky frame and fine clothes up close told me he was no longer a little boy. Mammy said he was four years older than Charlotte, but he looked near grown standing next to his pappy.

  Miz Sadie petted Charlotte, telling her what a special girl she was and how I would help her with her clothes and her hair and play games with her.

  My legs grew tired from standing so still. A raw spot where the lace met my skin began to hurt, but worst of all I had a growing need to visit the outhouse.

  I tried to get Aunt Liza’s attention, but she ignored me and kept her gaze on Master Hall as he spoke about the draft in the fireplace that needed attention. When I angled my head ever so slightly in order to catch her eye, she slowly moved her hand behind my back and gave me a sharp pinch between my shoulder blades.

  I jerked, though I didn’t make a sound.

  No matter. Miz Sadie took notice. “Is something wrong, Frances?”

  I couldn’t tell her Aunt Liza pinched me, so I shook my head. I did wonder, however, why she called me Frances. “My name is Frankie,” I offered, feeling certain she would want to address me correctly.

  I heard Aunt Liza’s soft intake of air, and her body went rigid beside me.

  Master Hall chuckled, but Miz Sadie didn’t look pleased. “You will not use that name while you’re in this house, do you understand? You are Frances. Frankie is a boy’s name.”

  I nodded, but I didn’t truly understand. Frankie was my name and I was a girl. Frances was also my grandmother’s name, but she died when I was a baby. I didn’t want people calling me by a dead person’s name.

  Master Hall settled into a chair by the window. Aunt Liza moved to pour him a drink from a pretty glass bottle on a table with several other pretty bottles. She was rather stingy with whatever it was, since she only filled his glass halfway.

  Seeing that golden liquid reminded me of my need to visit the outhouse.

  I tried not to think about it because thinking about it made it worse.

  I clamped my knees together.

  When Aunt Liza returned to my side, she eyed me, shaking her head when I pointed toward the door.

  Miz Sadie reminded Aunt Liza they would have guests the following evening, and the two women discussed the preparations needed.

  As the conversation lengthened, so grew my need for the outhouse. It wasn’t long before I felt the tiniest trickle of warmth run down my leg into my new pantalets. I pressed my thighs together tighter and held my breath.

  But it was too late.

  Before I could keep it from happening, my bladder released itself on the parlor carpet.

  My whimper drew Aunt Liza’s attention.

  “Oh, lawsy!” She snatched me away from the puddle and shoved me into the corner where the carpet ended at wood flooring.

  Miz Sadie shrieked, rising to her feet to jerk Charlotte away from the offensive wet stain.

  I cowered in the corner, unsure what to do. I was too scared to cry, although tears sometimes worked to ease Mammy’s anger when I’d misbehaved. But something told me this offense was far worse than anything I’d ever been guilty of in the past.

  Aunt Liza blotted the mess with the apron she’d removed from her thick waist. I wondered if I should volunteer to help but decided it was best to remain silent.

  “Come here, Frances.”

  Miz Sadie’s hard voice broke into my racing thoughts. She’d moved to stand near the fireplace, her hoot-owl face red with anger.

  Wet pantalets stuck to my legs as I slowly walked toward her. I kept my eyes downcast so she’d know how sorry I was. When I stopped a short distance from her, she reached for the poker leaning against the marble of the fireplace.

  “I will teach you to never do such a dreadful thing again.” She lifted the poker and brought it down on my head before I could react.

  I screamed. When I saw her raise the poker again, I put my hand up as a shield. The metal slammed into my fingers. Unimaginable pain shot up my arm, and I screamed again.

  “Stop this, Sadie.”

  Master Hall took the poker from his wife, a troubled look on his face when he glanced at me. Charlotte stared with wide, frightened eyes, but Burton, who’d moved to where he could see better, simply crossed his arms and watched.

  My body began to tremble and hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I clutched my injured hand to my chest, confused. I’d never before felt such pain, such fear. I wanted to run to the kitchen and tell Mammy what Miz Sadie done, but I couldn’t move.

  Aunt Liza appeared at my side. “Tell Mistress Hall you sorry for all this trouble.”

  I stared up at her. I’d just been struck with a fireplace poker, yet she wanted me to apologize?

  “Go on. Tell her.”

  My gaze shifted to Miz Sadie. Hard, cold eyes bored into me. “I sorry, Mistress Hall,” I whispered, fresh tears spilling from my eyes, not from pain but from unfairness.

  “See there, the girl didn’t mean to do it.” Master Hall patted his wife on the arm.

  “Get her out of my sight. I don’t want this revolting creature anywhere near Charlotte.”

  I didn’t know what revolting meant, but I knew Mammy’d be disappointed I wasn’t to be Miss Charlotte’s companion. I was glad though. I wouldn’t want to be in this house with Miz Sadie. I sniffled, ready to be away from this place and these people. My hand hurt terribly, as did my head. All I wanted was Mammy’s arms around me, soothing me and telling me it wasn’t my fault.

  “Now, now, there’s no need for it to come to that. It was an accident. She’s sorry and won’t ever do it again. Isn’t that right, Frances?” Master Hall looked at me.

  I didn’t want to be Miss Charlotte’s companion, but I was afraid he might turn the poker on me if I didn’t agree.

  “Yes’m, Master Hall.”

  He gave a satisfied nod, then looked to Aunt Liza. “Tell Lucindia to take her on home, but bring her back in the morning.”

  Aunt Liza escorted me from the parlor. As soon as I’d cleared the threshold, I took off running toward the kitchen, my poor hand throbbing. Mammy had her fingers deep in a big ball of dough, but that didn’t stop me from charging to her, crying and blubbering about the mistreatment I’d received. I wrapped my uninjured arm around her hips and clung to her as I’d never done before.

  “Good gracious, chile, what be wrong?”

  I felt her lift her apron above my head, most likely to wipe the dough from her hands.

  “She done made water on the Halls’ parlor carpet.” Aunt Liza’s voice thundered from the doorway behind me. “Miz Sadie smacked her with the poker for it.”

  “Oh, Lord,” Mammy breathed, and I felt her body sag. “What you gone an’ done, chile?”

  I looked up through my tears. “I don’t wanna ever come back here. Miz Sadie a devil woman.”

  Mammy gasped, as did Aunt Liza. “Hush, chile.” Her worry-filled gaze searched the spacious kitchen. The other household slaves must have been busy elsewhere because we were the only three occupants in the room. “You can’t never say anythin’ like that ’bout Miz Sadie. She mistress of this here plantation and that be all you gotta know.”

  Why was Mammy angry with me instead of being angry with Miz Sadie?

  I held out my pitiful, hurting hand. “Look what she done.”

  Blood oozed from a long split in the skin across my knuckles, and two of my fingers pointed in a different direction than the others.

/>   Mammy stared at my hand, then met Aunt Liza’s gaze. “That woman ain’t got no leave to do this to a child. She only six years old.”

  Aunt Liza came over. She looked at my hand and some of the bluster seemed to seep out of her. She shook her head. “I’ll get a rag to wrap it in.” And off she went.

  Mammy knelt beside me and used her apron to carefully dab at blood from the wound in my head. “I sorry she hurt you, Frankie girl. I so, so sorry.” Her arms went around me, tucking me safely against her warm body.

  I sniffled, appeased that Mammy understood. “She won’t let me be Frankie, neither. Says I has to be Frances if I’m gonna play with Charlotte.” I pulled away so I could look into Mammy’s dark-brown eyes. “I don’t want to play with her. I want to stay in the quarter.”

  Aunt Liza returned just then with a long strip of cloth for my hand. “Master Hall say she gotta come back tomorrow. Miz Sadie ain’t happy ’bout it.”

  Mammy and Aunt Liza exchanged a look I didn’t understand.

  I shook my head. “I don’t wanna ever come here again. I’ll help Saul pick worms.”

  Tears sprang to Mammy’s eyes. She took me by the shoulders and gave me a little shake. “You ain’t got no choice, Frankie. We is slaves. If Master Hall says you gotta play with Miss Charlotte, then you has to obey. Same as me. Same as Liza. Same as Saul. Ain’t none of us gets to choose. We just gotta obey so’s things goes well for us.” Her brow tugged as her gaze roamed over my face. “Do you understand what I’s tellin’ you?”

  I did, but I didn’t like it. “You’s sayin’ I gotta play with Charlotte.”

  “Miss Charlotte.” Mammy’s hard tone hurt my feelings.

  “Miss Charlotte,” I repeated, angry tears dripping from my lashes.