by Londyn Skye
James, William, and Lily were all on their way to Dayton Ohio. Landon had secured Lily a three-day run at Victoria Theater there. Though it would be the second theater Lily performed in, James was experiencing it as a first. Having missed her first performance inside of a real theater, James suddenly felt hyper-aware of every move Lily made once they arrived. He helped Lily exit the carriage and walked into the theater beside her, paying keen attention to the jovial smile that suddenly graced her face as she absorbed her surroundings. Keeping the sea of emotions in his chest at bay was a constant battle from that very moment. Watching Lily in rehearsals, during costume fittings, and even preparations of her hair and make-up, had a major effect on James. The woman whom he had just professed his love to was doing something that no other Negro woman had ever done in the short history of their country. He realized she was laying the foundation that others like her could walk on in centuries to come. It made every miniscule detail of preparation seem so epically monumental in James’s eyes.
James’s experience in watching Lily prepare had caused the tide of emotions in his chest to rise to near flood levels by the following evening. At the announcement of five minutes until showtime, Lily stepped out of the dressing room and into the sight of a man who found it nearly impossible to suppress the raging sea of tears she had stirred in him. “Awe-inspirin’,” James said, gazing at Lily with adoration. “That’s what you are to me.” He placed his hand on her cheek. “I’m in awe of you, and I know that audience out there will be too.”
Lily’s eyes fluttered closed as she melted into James’s touch, his words having caused the tide of emotions to swell within her too. It rose even further when she felt his lips gently press against hers. “Aren’t you gonna wish me luck?” she whispered, after his kiss.
James shook his head. “You don’t need luck. I’m convinced that God has bestowed you with this rare gift for a reason. I’m confident that He will not let you falter … and I’m just as confident that this audience will fall as madly in love with you as I have.”
A single tear trickled from Lily’s eye onto James’s hand as it rested on her cheek. “Thank you. I needed to hear that,” she whispered, “just as much as I needed you here with me this time.”
“I think my eyes might dry-up watchin’ you. I’ll be damned if I blink and miss a second of you up there.”
“You betta’ not,” Lily teased. She kissed James one last time and departed toward the stage.
James turned and watched her with pride as she strutted with confidence to take her place at her musical throne. He then took his seat in the front row, determined to absorb every second of Lily’s performance. From the intense beginning, the pool of waiting tears had fortunately moistened the eyes that James indeed refused to blink. Enthralled by the shadowed spectacle and the inspiring music, James could sense everyone around him fighting to keep their unblinking eyes moistened as well. By the time Lily hit the last note in the emotional grand finale, James knew that dry eyes were not an issue for the patrons surrounding him who were giving the Dream Symphony a resounding standing ovation.
The tide of emotions that James had managed to suppress during the show was unleashed in a tsunami hours later. His tears blended with Lily’s, christening the pillow of the very first luxury hotel they would stay in together as he erotically glided in and out of the paradise between her thighs. The need to erupt permeated every pore on their bodies from the very first stroke. Within seconds of James dancing within her, Lily had moaned his name into his ear as her insides spasmed around him. James emptied himself upon hearing the melodic sighs of Lily’s second grand finale for the evening.
… “You still love that nigga’?!” the guard suddenly asked in his usual challenging tone, jolting James from his beautiful memory.
Despite how weak he was, James lifted his head toward the glaring eyes and dug deep for the strength to speak. “You can starve me, beat me, leave me locked in here for life, or condemn me to hell, but I ain’t gonna change my fuckin’ answa’. If you don’t want me to admit how I feel anymore then go on and kill me, you piece ‘a shit … ’cause it ain’t no otha’ way to make me quit lovin’ her.” James panted hard after his reply. Simply speaking had exhausted him of the strength to hold his head up any longer and it dropped back to his knees.
To James’s surprise, he did not hear the peephole slam shut this time. “Hmph.” The guard snickered and shook his head. “I knew you felt that way about that woman long before you eva’ came to this shithole prison. Didn’t figure I’d eva’ break a crazy son of a bitch like you eitha’.”
James struggled to lift his head again to look into the green eyes that he had become so familiar with. He noticed the anger in them was no longer present for a change.
The guard sighed and seemed to relax. “My fatha’-in-law’s farm has had a contract with Joseph Parker for years,” he began explaining. “I know you know who that is.”
James did not reply. He was using all his strength to hold his head up and listen to where this man was going with his story.
“Joseph Parker invited me, my wife, and her side ‘a the family to Mary Jo’s engagement party some months ago. I didn’t really wanna go, but for my wife’s sake, I went ahead and attended. I’s ready to go before I eva’ set foot in that damn town hall. Most ‘a the time I’s there, I’s standin’ in the corna’, snatchin’ whiskey from every servin’ tray within reach. I needed it for my sanity. I could only take so much ‘a Mary Jo cacklin’ and paradin’ herself around like a princess. I just neva’ could stand that pasty woman. It’s hard to believe that Joseph works in the farmin’ industry but his daughta’s the most colorless human on earth. I’ve seen albinos with more color. She looks like one ‘a them damn porcelain dolls I done bought for my niece,” the guard joked. “And her gratin’ voice! I swear ’fore God, listenin’ to her talk always has my ears on the verge ‘a bleedin’. I took two shots ‘a whiskey at that engagement party for the poor fucker who was insane enough to spend the rest ‘a his life listenin’ to her. Wasn’t too long ’fore I realized that that poor fucker was you,” the guard snickered again.
James would have laughed too, but he lacked the energy.
“Not to my surprise, you looked just as miserable as I did to be there. Ain’t neva’ seen a man look at his future bride with such disdain. I read right through you in an instant. Somethin’ told me you didn’t want no parts of marryin’ that woman. And I’ll be damned if I blamed ya’! I think I’d commit suicide before I spent a second ‘a my life sufferin’ with that woman. Hell, the look on y’ur face made me think you were certainly contemplatin’ blowin’ y’ur own head off,” the guard laughed. “Maybe I had too much to drink, but halfway through the night, I’s convinced you’s trapped into marryin’ that cacklin’ heathen. It sure as hell was written all ova’ y’ur face anyway. All night, I watched ya’, feelin’ just as sorry for ya’ as a shit-covered man … no pun intended,” the guard laughed again. “Not one time did I see y’ur face light up with love when you looked at Mary Jo.
“But I finally saw the look of love in y’ur eyes lata’ that evenin’. I saw y’ur face light up the way it should when you look at the love of y’ur life. Y’ur eyes lit up and you didn’t seem to be able to force the goofy grin off ya’ face, no matta’ how hard ya’ tried. I don’t even think I saw ya’ blink … but it wasn’t Mary Jo you’s lookin’ at that way.”
James could feel himself becoming emotional as he realized who the guard was alluding to.
“You was lookin’ at that slave girl that way while she was playin’ the piano,” the guard continued. “Even as drunk as I was, I knew what I’s seein’. I knew because I still look at my wife that way. It’s a look like you were mesmerized by the most beautiful work ‘a art you’ve eva’ seen in ya’ life. It was like ya’ saw y’ur children, y’ur future, and y’ur whole life in ’er eyes. You looked at that woman like you’d take y’ur beatin’ heart outta ya’ chest and hand it to ’er if t
hat’s what it took to have ’er by y’ur side until the end ‘a y’ur days. Trust me, I know that damn look. And you didn’t give it to Mary Jo … you gave it to the slave playin’ that piano.
“Oddly, I rememba’ shiftin’ my attention to that slave as well afta’ noticin’ the way you looked at ’er. Just like you, I suddenly couldn’t take my eyes off her as she played. For the first time that night, I sat my drink down and just stared at ’er for the longest time. There was somethin’ so familiar about ’er to me. Her eyes and the structure of ’er face had me gripped, but I just couldn’t quite put my finga’ on why she seemed so familiar. It was plaguin’ me so much that I didn’t even wanna leave the party anymore … not ’til I figured out where the hell I knew ’er from. I stepped forward scrutinizin’ ’er face, her eyes, every motion, every movement of ’er body, and even her finga’s as she played. I couldn’t believe the way she had memorized that damn song afta’ one take. But more than anything, I couldn’t believe what my eyes were seein’ when I looked at ’er. Then I heard somebody next to me say ’er name … Lily. I rememba’ my heart suddenly thumpin’ like a stampede the moment I heard it. Afta’ hearin’ that name while watchin’ her whisk her way across those piano keys, I knew I finally had to accept the painful truth…” The guard paused and exhaled. “The woman sittin’ at that piano really was my half-sista’.” He shook his head in disbelief. “At that moment, I just had to accept that she really was my fatha’s daughta’. There was no damn denyin’ it anymore,” he admitted, sounding pained by that notion. “Lily’s eyes, the way her body moved, her expressions, her face, the way she played that piano, it was like I’s watchin’ my fatha’. She not only looked just like him, but she played the hell outta that piano … just the way he could.”
James stared at the guard in utter disbelief, his heart now the one beating like a stampede.
“My fatha’ was an incredible pianist,” the guard continued. “His family was too poor to afford a piano. But when he was a boy, he used to sneak onto the piano in the church basement while his motha’ was rehearsin’ with the choir. He spent hours tinkerin’ on it until he taught himself to play. The pastor caught ’em there one evenin’. My fatha’ thought he was in trouble, but the pastor was amazed by his talent. Just five years old, and there my fatha’ was, playin’ like a grown man. He went on to play in that church for decades. He’d put on the Christmas and Easta’ concerts every year. It was just him up there by himself, playin’ away, commandin’ the whole crowd. Most folks wouldn’t think that some podunk farma’ with a half-ass education, no piano lessons, and calloused hands could eva’ play a piano, but my fatha’d make a believa’ out of ya’ … quick, fast, and in one hell of a hurry. He could’ve taken a risk to pursue his dream of bein’ an orchestra pianist, but bein’ a fatha’ to us boys was more important to ’em. Instead ‘a travelin’ the country, he opted to be a farma’ to be sure he had a steady income and a stable life for us boys. So, he neva’ put on a single show outside ‘a those church walls. It was the most selfless thing any man could eva’ do for his family.”
The guard paused and swallowed his swell of emotions. “It’s strange. I’ve got five brotha’s and not a single one of us was born with his gift. But Lily…” He shook his head and gave a faint laugh of disbelief. “The irony.”
“That’s an unda’statement,” James whispered.
Lily’s half-brother exhaled hard after his confession, needing to collect himself. “Not long before that engagement party, I had just found out that Lily was allegedly my half-sista’. For months, I’s angry as hell about it. It pissed me off when ya’ showed up at my fatha’s house askin’ about Maya. I didn’t think things could get any worse, but there you were askin’ me to help reunite a sista’ I neva’ knew about with my fatha’s mistress!” He shook his head again. “Talk about rubbin’ salt in my fuckin’ wounds! If it wasn’t for the fact that I’s in desperate need ‘a money, I probably would ‘a hauled off and punched you right square in y’ur face.”
James now realized that the particular half-brother speaking to him was indeed Wyatt, who was finally answering why he had been so hostile during their first encounter.
“Does Lily know he’s her fatha’?” Wyatt asked.
James nodded. “She inadvertently found out the day she was sold.”
“Must’ve been as much of a shock to her as it was for me. For months, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that my God-fearin’ fatha’ had been unfaithful to my motha’ and that Lily was truly my sista’. It wasn’t until that engagement party that I finally accepted the fact that she was. There was simply no denyin’ it afta’ I saw ’er perform. That was the female version of my fatha’ playin’ that damn piano with the musical gift he had undoubtedly passed on to her. It left no doubt in my damn mind. She was his.” Wyatt exhaled again. “As hard as it is for me to admit, I also can’t deny that my fatha’ sho’ did create one hell of a beautiful daughta’. And afta’ seein’ ’er at that party, it proved that Lily clearly turned out to be special … just the way my fatha’ predicted she’d be.”
“What do you mean?” James asked, surprised that Lily’s father would have said such a thing.
Wyatt heard a noise and turned to see another guard headed their way while making his rounds.
“Why’re you tellin’ me all this? I don’t unda’stand,” James prodded.
“You will.” Wyatt quickly shoved a plate of food under the door and intentionally left the peephole open to give James a little light. “Eat up. Y’ur gonna need it.” He then walked away without any further explanation for his actions.
Despite how famished James was, he did not eat right away this time. The revelation about Lily’s father had him far too stunned to move. So, too, did the fact that it had been Wyatt testing the sincerity of his love for Lily with his challenging question every day. The entire scenario had James baffled. He was even more baffled when he looked down at his plate and saw a hearty steak, mashed potatoes with gravy, corn on the cob, a piece of pie, and a candle with matches. And instead of water, his tin cup was filled to the brim with a fine Irish ale.
Chapter Six
After James finished his Irish ale and homemade meal, Wyatt opened the dungeon door and finally let him out. He took James to the infirmary to have his wounds and bug bites treated. He was allowed to bathe, was doused with lye to kill any potential lice, and given fresh prison garbs. After his thorough cleaning, he was then guided back through the dim hallways of the cell block. Unlike the first day James arrived, the ruckus from all the other prisoners was totally non-existent as he was escorted to his cell. All the prisoners held on to their cell bars without making a peep as they watched James walk by. Even James’s cellmate, Dale, was standing up when he finally made it back. He did not say a word when James walked in either. The only sound that was made thereafter was the cell door slamming and the jingling of Wyatt’s keys as he locked the lock and marched away. Dale and James stared at each other briefly before James laid down in his cot without a word. Dale laid down shortly thereafter. The silence in the entire cell block persisted for another few minutes until Dale rolled over on his side and looked at James again. “Boy, you sho’ did lay that shit-slingin’ som’bitch out on his ass!” he said. With the silence, his words echoed loudly throughout the facility. In unison, an eruption of laughter broke out from every prisoner in the building. “Wooooo-weee! You whooped ol’ Ernest’s ass good!” he reiterated through his mucus-filled laughter.
All it took was those few sentences for the hooting and hollering and rowdiness to return to the entire facility. “ERNEST GOT HIS ASS WHOOPED!” was suddenly being chanted in unison by every prisoner … except for one. Ernest lay in his cot, facing the wall, looking humiliated and mad as hell with his broken jaw wired shut, unable to utter a word in his own defense. James gave a faint smile, shook his head at the insanity, then rolled over in his cot to try and sleep comfortably for a change. Wyatt, in turn, threw his feet up on the de
sk in his office, put his hands behind his head, and smirked, content to let the insulting chants continue.
The next morning, James stepped out into the sunlight for the first time in nearly two weeks. He had not seen the sun in so long, it physically hurt him to keep his eyes open at first. His skin was nearly as pale as MJ’s and his muscles had atrophied from days of lying on the dungeon floor unused. But Wyatt had a solution for that. He had James starting on the ball and chain gang. They all worked long hours, swinging sledgehammers and hauling wheelbarrows full of rocks and lumber to lay train tracks. It was the sort of backbreaking, muscle-building work Wyatt loved to subject his prisoners to … but especially James.
For three weeks, Wyatt gave James the toughest of the railroad assignments, especially those that built his stamina and had him sleeping well at night. A full home-cooked platter was more difficult to sneak to James now that he was no longer in the dungeon, but Wyatt still managed to slide him an extra steak or piece of chicken every night. Wyatt never said a word to James about the reason he continued to break the prison rules on his behalf. James just quietly accepted his kindness with a nod. He figured it had something to do with Lily being his half-sister, or perhaps it was his attempt to make amends for pulling a gun on him while Lily and her mother were saying their goodbyes. But James would soon learn that every extra meal and muscle-building job that Wyatt gave him had a motive far beyond any sort of minor atonement.
It was a week before the presidential and local town elections. Wyatt had three guards who were helping the town sheriff in his final campaign push to be re-elected. Despite being down three guards, Wyatt still insisted on having his prisoners continue their work on the railroad. In fact, he had very much been looking forward to this week when there was a lack of help with the prisoners and an ample amount of attention focused on a major town event. That morning, Wyatt calmly rode along on his horse, trotting behind the slow-walking group of twenty prisoners, who were all chained together. When they made it to their destination, Wyatt began unlocking each prisoner from the group chain one by one. He then attached their individual shackles to a heavy ball and strategically placed every inmate at their assigned duty for the day, saving James for last.