“And, it’s okay if we lie down here in the daytime, right?” she asked, as she led him back to the blue sarong sheet.
Benji answered by allowing her to guide him to their secreted resting spot and assist him in lying down. “Can I take off your pants, then?” she asked demurely. He had been agreeing with everything so far, hopefully he’d continue.
“No!” he answered sternly in a low voice.
Her eyes closed in embarrassment; maybe she had gone too far and been too insistent.
He saw the hurt look on her face, and sighed in resignation. “Ye canna take my pants off because it might hurt ye. But, I can take off my pants. Ye need to be careful.”
“And you said we could be married and have babies?” She was sure that’s what he had said, but she wanted to hear it again.
“Aye, but no makin’ bairns until we’re marrit. But, I dinna think that can happen until I find my grandfather. He’ll ken what to do; he always does.” Benji tried to sound confident, but he knew he had allowed a small squeak of uncertainty to slip out. He looked over and saw the pain in Jane’s face. He could tell it wasn’t physical pain, but the pain of frustration. He sighed, turned his back, and took off his pants.
Jane hung her head and closed her eyes, allowing him some privacy, and herself a moment to figure out if she wanted to continue her waking dream of believing that marriage for her really was possible. She knew that getting married was a fantasy. Slaves didn’t get married. They were bred—and sometimes allowed to live as family units—but they were never married. Marrying a man, a white man, in this time? Well, dreaming was free. If he could dream it, and maybe even believe it, then she could, too, even if it did sound impossible.
"Janie,” Benji called softly as he lay down close to her. “I ken we canna practice makin’ the bairns, but can we practice feeding a bairn? Ye did seem to like it, aye?"
"Aye, oh, very much, aye,” she replied, happy to be back in her waking dream with her man. “But, can you, um, suck on both sides? This side got a bit jealous last night, I think," she said, and stuck out her right breast.
Benji laid her back. "Okay, but first, I need some kisses. It's still daylight, but unless we make too much noise, no one will know we're here."
"All day and all night then..." Jane cooed.
25 Waiting to heal
August 22, 1782
“D o you think I’ll like it?” Jane asked as she stroked his firm member.
Benji gasped at her delicate yet enticing touch, “Lord, I hope so,” he said, then put his hand on top of hers, removing it gently so he could think with the big head. “If ye dinna care fer it, then we’ll try it a bit differently. I mean, if ye’ve never been with a man, the first time might be a bit uncomfortable. But I—I mean we—can try a few different positions…” He picked up her cock stroking hand and kissed the back of it, enjoying that part of her body as if it was a sexual organ. He chortled suddenly. It was a sexual organ for them—at least for now.
Benji felt her hand slip out of his, pulling away slowly but decisively. “What’s wrong, Janie? Are ye afraid?” and sat up to face her.
Jane shook her head slowly, but didn’t answer with words. Instead, she lifted her head and looked into his eyes with shame. “Oh, Janie, did someone take ye against yer will?”
She closed her eyes slowly to answer in the affirmative, then looked back up at him. “I was very young. He took me from Mama and said I needed to come with him for the night. She wanted to stop him, I know she did, but couldn’t do anything. She knew what was going to happen. She just cried and cried, and he yelled at her to shut up. He took his riding crop and beat her with it, one hand holding me, the other whipping her, telling her that now she had something to cry about.
“He took me to the big house and had the house maid give me a bath with some sweet smelling soap. It didn’t burn like the kind they gave us. Then she put a pretty, soft shift on over my shoulders and covered my hair with a fancy pink cap. She told me that no matter what, that I wasn’t to cry. She said he’d be nice to me if I didn’t cry, but would beat me and all the house servants if I did.”
“I didn’t know her, but she knew me. She pulled my bottom lip down and saw that I still had all of my baby teeth. She shook her head and called the master a bad name. I didn’t know what the word was, but the way she said it and then spit on the ground afterwards… Well, I knew she hated both him and what he was going to do. She gave me a quick hug and told me to pull myself and all of my thinking inside of here,” Jane pointed to her belly button, “and that when I was all the way inside of myself, that Master couldn’t hurt me. She hugged me again; this time for a long time, then took me to his room. ‘Don’t forget, don’t cry,’ she begged. ‘He’ll only want you for the one night. When he’s done with you, he’ll never bring you back to the house.’
“So, I let him do what he wanted. I didn’t cry, I didn’t smile, and I didn’t move except to let him move my body where he wanted it. I pulled myself inside like she said so he couldn’t hurt me. Well, not really hurt me, just the inside parts of my body. But, he didn’t beat me, and he didn’t beat anyone else the next day. The next evening, the cook came out and brought Mama and me a plate of chicken. She said thank you to me for not crying and sorry to my Mama for what had happened to me. And, she was right; he never asked for me again.”
Jane finished her story and lifted her head to look into Benji’s eyes, the lack of tears as shocking by their absence as the flow should have been. “So, I’m soiled,” she said simply.
“No, yer not! Yer body was abused, taken advantage of, degraded and defiled, but none of it yer own doin’! Ye told me yerself: ye pulled yerself inside of here,” Benji gently touched her belly, causing her to flinch, “and that part, yer soul and spirit, is still jest as pure as the wee lass who was taken from her mother, right?”
“Aye,” Jane said, then smiled gently, now feeling better about herself. “I never touched a man or let one touch me until I held you during the storm.”
“Weel, I’ll never leave ye, so ye can hold me every day fer the rest of our lives, no storm required.”
Ж
“Hey there!” called the animated, wiry old man from the far side of the pond. The bespectacled character waved broadly, nearly losing his footing as he did so. “I hear congratulations are in order: two more red-heided Pomeroy men in the world.”
Benji was dumbfounded. What could he say? He opened his mouth to speak, to tell the man that he wasn’t his grandfather, but found that his words were on strike—they wouldn’t come out. Rather than chance making the pipping, squeaking noises he was afraid would sneak out if he tried to force them, he waved back at the man, nodding like a little plastic Chihuahua in the back window of a low rider.
The petite, snowy-haired man chose his steps carefully over the river rocks as he neared Benji, arms waving like he had more words to share. He paused when he was six feet away from his goal, placed his hands on his hips, his head and chest bent forward to catch his breath. Air intake assured, the tanned and elated visitor straightened his back and looked up at Benji. His head tilted back a few degrees more and his eyes squinted in puzzlement.
“Did havin’ more bairns make ye grow again?” his voice ending in a high squeal. “And why did ye cut yer hair? Oh,” he said in answer to his own question, “Yer right; short hair would be a lot cooler.”
Benji didn’t say anything. He was still in shock. ‘More bairns’ the man had said.
The genteel wayfarer squinted as he looked down at the ground, then up at Benji again. His eyesight was failing, but this tall man had to be Jody Pomeroy. There couldn’t be two men in the world that tall, except maybe Wallace, but the man in front of him had that same, flaming, Scottish red hair and the same squinty blue eyes. “Are ye ailin’ there, Colonel Pomeroy?” he asked. “Ye dinna look too good.”
Benji gulped and found his throat had relaxed just a little. He chanced speaking and replied, “I’m not ailin’, but
I’m not Colonel Pomeroy, either. But, can ye tell me how to get to his place? I…I…I’m his grandson,” he blurted before he lost his nerve. He bit his lip. Hopefully, he wouldn’t embarrass himself or his grandfather by crying. He was finally so close to finding him!
“Oh, oh, of course ye are!” The old man said as realization hit him like a wet washcloth to the face. “Yer his grandson, Benji. Ye have to be,” he announced, then backed down in his enthusiasm. “Ye are, arena ye?” he asked, suddenly unsure of himself.
“Aye, I am,” Benji replied with relief. “Can ye point me in the direction to his place?”
The wee man was more than happy to lead the way to the promontory where the road revealed itself. “Ye get to the road by travelin’ down the other side of this rise. Ye dinna need to go into town; ye get there by goin’ the other way. Jest keep headin’ down the road until ye see the whirligig on the tower. Jody’s kin is an inventor, he said, and there’s all sorts of odd bits and pieces scattered high and low.”
“Ye said my grandsire had more bairns?” Benji asked, hoping the man would continue the thought. The old man had to be confused because his grandparents were too old to have children of their own. He must be referring to James and Leah. They had been gone for a year and would have had time to have a child or maybe twins.
“Yes, sirree,” the old man crowed. “Yer grandfather said that yer Grannie took some fancy herbs and found herself with child. My wife said she wanted some of them, but I told her we were too old to start all over again. She must have given some to Colonel Pomeroy, your grandpa, too. He’s looking better than ever, even after bein’ injured. Now, that bein’ said, do ye want me to guide ye to their house? I was headed the other direction, but I’d be glad to accompany ye. Hey, where is yer camp? Do ye want me to help ye pack?”
“No, but thank ye jest the same. My camp is jest over there.” Benji nodded in an omni-directional manner, not wanting to divulge his site. “I’m not quite ready to travel, so I’ll head out tomorrow morning. Thank ye fer the directions. And, Godspeed to ye, and good health to both ye and yer wife.”
26 They’re Huge!
August 25, 1782
“G randpa, Grandpa,” Jenny screeched as she called out in all directions, trying to find her absent mentor. “There’s a man here who looks just like you only bigger. And, he has a Negro woman with him, and she’s huge, too!”
I heard the commotion and came outside to see what all the excitement was about. I heard her say the words bigger, huge, and Negro. Well, at least someone taught her some manners along the way; I wouldn’t have to teach her not to say the ‘n’ word. There weren’t very many slaves in this area, and we didn’t associate with anyone who had them, but what was it that she said?
“See, I told you so,” Jenny bragged when I came out to see the giant-sized, red haired man in Carhartt jeans, and the stunning black woman, wrapped in a blue calico sarong, who was nearly as tall as he was. “Where’s Grandpa?” Jenny asked excitedly, jumping up and down in place. “He has got to see this!”
“I’m sorry,” I said to the visitors as Jenny ran off to find Jody. “She gets a little wound up sometimes. We don’t get many visitors here. May I help you?”
“Evie?” the ginger giant asked as he stared at my face, trying to place me as someone he knew.
“Benji?” I answered. There could only be one man that tall, that red haired, and with those same, baby blue eyes…except Jody himself. “If you’re not Benji, then Jody has a lot of ‘splaining to do!” I joked in a Desi Arnaz, Cuban accent.
I walked up to him and shook his hand heartily. “Come in and have a seat,” I said, then led the stunned couple up the porch steps. “I’ll get some fresh water. I’ll bet you’re both thirsty.”
The two of them appeared to be both overheated and in shock. I’d wait until after they got something to drink for proper introductions. I pointed to the kitchen chairs and table, grabbed the ewer and excused myself, and was headed down the steps to the well when I heard it.
“Eeee haaaaahhh!”
I followed the squealing noise with my eyes and saw that Jenny was on her way back from her scouting mission. The hyperactive, blonde bomber had found her Grandpa, Grannie, and infant uncles and was leading the fast paced parade back to the house. Jody was taking long strides to keep up with her running pace. He held Wee Julian to his shoulder with a wide, one-handed clutch. Sarah was following behind him at a fast clip—half-running—and carrying Raymond in the same snuggled position, but using both hands.
Benji stepped out of the house to watch their enthusiastic approach. He hesitantly walked down the steps and into the yard to meet them, unsure if he was dreaming or awake.
Jody didn’t need to be told who the male stranger in his front yard was. He shook his head in astonishment, unbridled tears now flowing down his cheeks. He shifted his infant son to the right side then reached out and grabbed Benji to him, squeezing as hard as he dared with his left arm. Benji reached both arms around his grandfather’s back and sobbed, “Yer here, yer still here.”
“Aye, I am; and so is yer Grannie.” Jody and Benji untangled their arms, but stayed close together, turning around as one to see Sarah rushing towards them, her beaming face streaked with shiny tears.
Benji sighed deeply at the sight of her, his eyes weeping anew. He moved into her, bent his knees, and picked up both Grannie and the bundle of baby she was clutching close to the middle of her chest. “Ye have no idea how happy I am right now,” he laughed, crying at the same time with joy.
I watched the greeting and was overcome myself. I looked over and saw my babies contentedly playing ‘who’s got the rag dog’ game in their oversized playpen under the family tree, tugging or biting on a cloth leg or ear of the oversized, remnant stuffed, quilted spaniel. Then I looked back at the porch and saw that someone was left out in this reunion: Benji’s traveling companion. The beautiful and statuesque ebony woman was watching the reunion with a reserved smile, her glow reflecting her happiness, even if her reticent posture did not.
“Hi,” I said as I approached her. “I take it your Benji’s friend?” I asserted and asked at the same time.
She dipped her head briefly in acknowledgment, but didn’t look me in the eye.
“Would you like to come in for that water now?” I didn’t wait for an answer, but turned and walked into the house, hoping she would follow me. She did, but only came in as far as the doorway. I poured a cup of water and handed it her.
“They’ll be in shortly,” I said to start the conversation. “If I know anything about these men, it’s that they’ll be in for, shall we say, liquid refreshment soon? And, I don’t mean water. Come to think of it, we might want to go to the springhouse right now.” I grabbed a basket out of the corner and saluted her with it. “I’ll need this for the refreshments. Come on,” I said brightly, as I gently touched her elbow in an invitation to follow me.
Jane tensed at the familiar touch of someone she didn’t know. She looked down at the smallish, dark haired, perky young woman. The nice lady must have felt her arm jerk away in reflex, but she hadn’t responded to it. She acted as if they were good friends, peers at least, and that performing a chore together was normal. Maybe she was like Benji, from the future.
“Evie?” Jane asked tentatively, although she was pretty sure that was her name. If this really was Evie, the time traveling fairy, she wouldn’t mind that a slave had been so bold as to speak without being spoken to first.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. Yes, I am Evie, Benji’s, um, kin,” I explained awkwardly.
I didn’t know how much she knew about us, and didn’t want to divulge any big secrets to someone I had just met, especially someone who I was sure had been born and raised in the 18th century. I had noticed the array of fresh and old lash scars on her back, and her posture was definitely one of servitude.
“We don’t believe in slaves around here,” I added softly, as if I was sharing a family se
cret. I returned to a normal speaking tone as we continued our walk. “You must be a good person or Benji wouldn’t have brought you here. Although, I think it was rather rude of him not to introduce you right away.”
“I think he was a bit distracted,” Jane said in an apologetic tone. “He’s been talking about finding his grandfather ever since I met him. Oh, I’m sorry; my name is Jane,” she added with a nod of introduction.
“Glad to meet you, Jane,” I said and paused in our trek to greet her face to face. Rather than attempt an awkward handshake with my right, basket-holding hand, I patted her on the back with a ‘welcome to the family’ gesture with my free, left hand. Jane winced at my touch, then sucked in air, stifling a yelp.
“I’m sorry; did I hurt you?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m just a little tender on the right side. I have a wound and it’s not completely healed. I’ll be fine. Benji tended to it, and I’m sure he did a good job. He did say his Grannie is a healer…” she began, then bit back any more words. Maybe she was speaking too much, she thought. These people were Benji’s family, but they might not feel the same as he did. She didn’t want to embarrass or shame him.
I noticed Jane biting her lip right after she had spoken. I realized she was between social castes, and even though I had whispered that we didn’t believe in slaves, she still didn’t know her place. “Are you okay? I mean, you can speak your mind around here. Your opinion is just as valid as anyone else’s.”
Jane didn’t remark on my comment, but did look me in the eye and raised her eyebrows to ask ‘Are you sure?’ I replied with a grin and a nod. She then gave me a warm smile that said ‘Thank you.’
We continued walking to the springhouse in a comfortable silence. When we got to our destination, I made sure I had a good look at her face then asked, “How much did Benji tell you about me?”
The Great Big Fairy Page 21