The Cost of Sugar

by Cynthia McLeod

  “Just a moment. You shall meet your new overseer. I’ll just go and fetch him,” said Rutger, leaving the room. A little bit later he returned, followed by a dark man, and said, “Mr Jeremiah, this is Mr Rozenblad, your new overseer.”

  Daniel Jeremiah’s mouth fell open in amazement. A mulatto? Did they want to give him a negro as overseer on his plantation?

  “This is impossible,” he stammered.

  “What is impossible?” asked Rutger with a stern face.

  “A mulatto, a nigger as overseer?”

  “A capable, very cultured man, Mr Jeremiah,” said Rutger calmly.

  Daniel Jeremiah was angry. What a mean trick this was. And he could not refuse, otherwise the loan would certainly not go through.

  “So you want to saddle me with a mulatto, eh?”

  “You can refuse,” said Rutger. “No Mr Rozenblad, no loan.”

  “And of course I’ll have to invite him to my table. What are you playing at?” Mr Jeremiah was no longer speaking quietly.

  Rutger remained exceedingly composed, as did Rozenblad and Van Omhoog, and said calmly, “Who says that Mr Rozenblad would want to join you at table? He is used to moving in highly civilized circles.”

  “I shall write to your patron in the Netherlands about this.” Jeremiah’s face had turned a deep shade of crimson.

  “Do that indeed, Mr Jeremiah. I am sure that Mr Rozenblad will be able to help you in that. He has a fine hand and makes no spelling mistakes. He is also an expert book-keeper. If you would now inform him as to when he is expected at the jetty to leave for your plantation, then our business is completed.”

  When, ten minutes later, a still angry Daniel Jeremiah had left the office, Rutger laughed out loud. Mr van Omhoog had in the first place not seen much virtue in Rutger’s plan, but he had had to admit that a new overseer would be the best solution, and what was there against Mr Rozenblad? The colour of his skin? Rutger placed his hand on Mr Rozenblad’s shoulder and said, “Do you still dare to take this on, good friend? Don’t let yourself be intimidated; don’t be afraid. Do what you think is best.”

  “I’m never afraid,” answered Stanley Rozenblad calmly. “I know what to expect and I’m up to it.”

  38 ‘Prosperity and Prospect’.

  39 “Yu, san ede yu fufuru?”

  40 “Mi no fufuru, masra, ma a fadon na gron.”

  41 “En yu, yu no wani wroko?”

  42 “Yu n’e wroko tidé, go meki a dresi nengre luku yu.”

  43 “Yu go na kukru go kari a koki.”

  44 “Merki nanga eksi de na kukru?”

  45 “Seni den kon dyaso.”

  46 “Opo, dan, opo.”

  47 “Puru a anu, noso a o pori na sukru.”

  48 “Go kari a dresi nengre.”

  49 “Yu betre luku bun yere.”

  50 “Fa den kari yu pikin?”

  51 “Yu n’afu frede, mi n’o du yu noti. Kon.”

  52 “Suma seni yu kon dyaso?”

  53 “Yu sabi san yu mus kon du dyaso?”

  54 “Mi no sabi, masra.”

  55 “Yu sribi nanga wan man, kaba?”

  56 “Sa yu m’ma taki dan.”

  57 “Mi no habi m’ma, masra.”

  58 “Afanaisa, yu kan gowe baka yere, mi n’o du yu noti.”

  59 “Masra n’o broko mi dan?”

  60 “No no pikin, mi n’o du dati.”

  61 “A moro betre masra broko mi.”

  62 “Fu san-ede yu wani mi broko yu?”

  63 “Bika a basya o sabi en dan a fon mi.”

  64 “Mi n’o du yu noti, Afanaisa, yu no afu frede, no wan sma e go sabi san e pesa dyaso. Basya n’o sabi, mi e go sorgu fu dati. Ma luku, mi o aksi yu wan tu sani, dan yu musu piki mi. A bun?”

  65 “Masra taki no wan man no mag fasi en, noso a dati o kisi wan pansboko.”

  66 “Ke masra, tyari mi gew no, teki mi, tyari mi gwe; a basya, a o fon mi, m’e begi yu masra.”

  CHAPTER V

  ELZA

  It was by now the beginning of August, and time for the marriage of Rebecca and Abraham Cohen. Although Rebecca herself did not want a huge celebration, Aunt Rachel felt that it should be a real happening, especially because the groom was not just anybody. A learned man, teacher, assistant rabbi for the moment, head of the Yeshiva, the Jewish school to which all Orthodox parents sent their sons and where they studied the Talmud under his guidance.

  When Elza received the message that the wedding of Rebecca and Abraham would be celebrated at Hébron in the week 15–20 August, she and Rutger made plans to stay at the plantation for ten days or so. She would be happy to be home again, to see Ashana and all familiar things around. But how would it be with Sarith? When Rutger had returned from his Jericho journey he had been exceedingly loving and caring. They often laughed at his tales about Daniel Jeremiah. She had shared his anger and indignation at the mishandling of the slaves.

  Maisa had immediately taken Afanaisa into her care. She said that the child would need extra feeding, and when she saw what a dear, diligent girl Afanaisa was, so willing to learn, she said to Elza that Afanaisa would make a good nanny once the baby had arrived. Everything in the home was pleasant and peaceful. How would it be when they were at Hébron? Would Rutger again fall under Sarith’s spell? And imagine that something were to happen? Would everyone get to know about it? How would she feel then?

  Maisa looked forward enormously to the stay, and so did Amimba, for she was going along especially to be able to spend a week with her mother.

  The guests for the wedding at Hébron were predominantly Jewish. The ceremony itself had taken place on the previous Sabbath at Joden-Savanna. That had been Abraham’s wish. The Sunday after, the couple travelled to Hébron, where all the guests were awaiting them. Rutger and Elza had not gone to Joden-Savanna, but rather had arrived at Hébron two days earlier.

  When Elza saw Ashana, she threw herself literally into her arms and cried, “Ashana, oh Ashana, how I’ve missed you!” Then she toured the whole house to see whether everything was still the same. Of course she didn’t sleep in her old room, which she had in the past shared with Sarith, but she and Rutger were to sleep in the room next to Rebecca’s: ‘the bridal wing of the house,’ Aunt Rachel had laughingly called it.

  During those first days before the guests arrived for the celebrations, as well as Elza and Rutger, Esther and Jacob de Ledesma were in the house with their three sons, as were David and Suzanna and their two children. How did it happen that Rutger always finished up sitting across the table from Sarith? How did it happen that Sarith was there during every walk they went for and every boat trip on the river? Sometimes she would be recounting something excitedly and would tug his arm as if there were no-one else around, and she even on occasion threw her arm round his shoulder and pressed her cheek to his. It seemed as if she wanted to make a statement to Elza.

  When the guests arrived on the Sunday and the great feast began, Sarith’s attitude changed. She was really friendly towards Elza and behaved just normally with Rutger. All the guests were interested in Elza. How well she was looking! And, whisper whisper, was there a baby on the way? What a lovely little woman she was, and so pleasant. Didn’t that threesome get along with each other so well. Elza and Sarith had always been such good friends. How lovely for Elza that Sarith travelled so often to Paramaribo and stayed with her to keep her company. And Elza wanted to cry out in the face of all that chatter, “Does no-one see what is really happening? Are you all blind? Does no-one see how she’s luring him away from me?” But of course she did not do that, but rather nodded and confirmed how nice it was that Sarith kept her company in Paramaribo.

  There was nothing to arouse an outsider’s suspicions that Sarith had a special interest in Rutger. She behaved normally with Elza. Just as had happened when they were girls, she would often look at Elza and exchange a comment about some guest or other. Exploding with laughter, “Have you seen Aunt There Blows the Wind? She has at least three on today.”<
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  ‘Aunt There Blows the Wind’ was a cousin of Rachel’s, an enormously rich Jewish widow who always wore broad silken dresses. At every movement she made, the silk skirts would rustle so that it sounded as if the wind was blowing through the house. That was why the girls had given her the nickname ‘There Blows the Wind’. Or Sarith would whisper in Elza’s ear, with a giggle, “Have you seen Noso? His nose is looking extra large today and he’s always wanting to hold my hand.” And then Elza understood that Sarith did this only so as not to arouse suspicion. Aunt Rachel had decreed that there must be a large ball, for what was a celebration without a ball? And so there was dancing on the third day there.

  The musicians played. Just as at Elza’s wedding, everywhere was lit with Chinese-style lanterns and the guests sat at tables on wooden benches, the ladies in beautiful gowns and with artificially exaggerated hair-do’s, the gentlemen in their most formal evening attire. Elza saw how Sarith stood near to Rutger at the beginning of every dance, and said something to him, whereupon they would go and dance together.

  Elza went to the house and sat on the veranda, watching the dancing couple. When the music stopped and most of the people went to sit down, she saw how Rutger remained standing and began a conversation with a number of men. Five men were standing there in a circle, deep in conversation. Watching her husband, it struck Elza how quickly Rutger had adapted to this country. He’s become a real Suriname man, she thought, and when she looked who the men were who were talking with Rutger, she realized that they all had more than one woman. Each of them had a concubine or mistress somewhere in Paramaribo alongside his legally wedded partner. Bitterly she thought – yes, in this, too, he is a real Suriname man: he has two women as well.

  The music began again and she saw how Sarith approached the circle of men and said something funny, for they all started laughing. Elza saw, too, how Sarith took Rutger’s hand and pulled him in the direction of the dancers, calling back to the group, “I’ll take this one for the time being.”

  Elza closed her eyes briefly and went indoors. She went through the large front hall into the rear of the house and went to stand there on the back veranda. In the distance she could see the faint lights in the slave huts and hear the dull beat of the drums. In the corner of the rear veranda she saw the old hammock that had been hanging for years and years between two posts. That was the corner where she and Sarith had always been sitting or lying together in the hammock, talking, laughing, giggling, telling each other stories or things that had been happening. How many hours had they spent together in that hammock? Sarith and Elza, Elza and Sarith, the inseparable pair.

  Elza lay her head dejectedly against one of the posts, when suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and a voice saying, “What’s up with my little misi, then?”67

  “Ashana, oh Ashana!” Elza lay her head on Ashana’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She couldn’t contain herself any longer, but could only sob, “Ashana, Ashana!”

  Ashana led her to the old rocking chair that stood on the other side of the veranda, sat down and sat Elza on her broad lap. The same rocking chair where Ashana had rocked her misi to sleep as a small child; the same rocking chair where she had always sat with her misi on her lap, when she was sad or in pain, or just wanted to feel secure. Now she sat again in this rocking chair, and rocked and soothed her misi. No question here of mistress and slave, just a child who was sad and who sought love and security in the arms of she who, she knew, had always provided that: the most trusted, the most cherished, her Ashana. Here was simply a mother who wanted to watch over her most adored child and protect her, who wanted to banish all sadness and all perils from this child’s life. “Shush, my darling, calm yourself now,”68 came Ashana’s soothing tones. Elza would never know how much Ashana really knew and how much she just assumed, but that did not matter. The fact was that she felt Ashana’s arms around her, ever trusted and ever loving.

  “Elza, Elza, where are you now?”

  That was Rutger’s voice. With long strides he came through the front room.

  “Here,”69 called Ashana. Rutger came onto the lighted rear veranda and looked on the scene with amazement. Elza like a little girl on Ashana’s lap? He was just about to tease her when he saw that she was weeping.

  “You’re crying,” he said, taken aback. “Why are you crying, Elza? What’s the matter? Are you ill?”

  When she shook her head in denial he said to Ashana, “What’s up with Misi Elza, Ashana?”70

  Ashana looked him straight in the eye and said tensely, “Perhaps you alone can know what’s up with her.”71 With these words she nudged Elza from her lap, saying, “Go to your husband, my treasure; he must care for you.”72

  And Ashana went inside. Rutger put his arm around Elza, and said, “Are you crying about me, Elza, is it about me? Tell me!”

  Elza sobbed and sobbed again and said, “Rutger, I know I promised not to be a jealous wife, but when I see you and Sarith like that, I just don’t know any more. I can’t help it, really.”

  “Elza, don’t cry on my account, not for that: you know that Sarith means nothing to me. Really not. Believe me. But when she comes to dance with me and so on, can I refuse? Can a gentleman snub a lady in such a way? But believe me, Elza, I really care nothing about her. Don’t cry any more. Look, I was searching for you all over the place. Let’s go and dance.”

  And with his handkerchief he dried her tears and then he kissed her, first on the eyes, then on the mouth. Then he took her outside to join the dancing company.

  The rest of the evening he stayed with Elza and danced only with her. Sarith cast a glance in their direction now and then, but when she saw them sitting so closely to each other, holding each other’s hand, she didn’t come near, but danced with all the other men, one by one.

  When the stay was drawing to an end and the guests were leaving in small groups, Sarith announced that she would return to the town with Elza and Rutger. O heavens, thought Elza, here we go again. But what could she say? How could she say that Sarith was not welcome in her house? No-one would understand. And so it was that Sarith travelled back to Paramaribo and installed herself in the room that was no longer called the guest room, but rather ‘Misi Sarith’s room’.

  Had Rutger perhaps realized how much he hurt Elza by his intimacy with Sarith? In any case, in these weeks following Rebecca’s wedding he did not respond to Sarith’s advances, and the latter became increasingly restless. She would snap at Elza in answer to a question, or retained a sullen silence with a disgruntled expression. Elza found that the atmosphere in the house was suffering, and wished that Sarith would leave. Poor Mini-mini was really on the receiving end. A twisted ear or a push in the back was almost the order of the day.

  One Sunday the threesome was invited to a party at the Lobo’s, a Jewish family. A baby had just been born. On the eighth day, the day of the bris milah (the boy’s circumcision), guests were invited. After the ceremony, which was performed by the rabbi, there was plenty to eat and drink and some even danced. All the guests brought presents, and although the mother was still confined to bed, this did not influence the degree of feasting downstairs. While Elza was upstairs with the mother in her room, admiring all the baby clothes and hearing about everything she should and should not do in her condition, Sarith danced with Rutger down below, and asked him why he had been avoiding her.

  “Oh, I haven’t been avoiding you, Sarith, but don’t you think that all this must come to an end. It really upsets Elza, and that is something I simply don’t want.”

  It seemed as if from that moment on Sarith’s mood changed. When they returned home she was no longer cheerful and chatty, but miserable and pathetic. If she was alone in a room with Rutger, she would ensure that a tear rolled down her cheek. He had to ask her why she was crying, and then came the answer, “Because you don’t care about me and you show that so clearly, while I, I love you Rutger, I love you so much.”

 
Rutger was completely disoriented by this situation, and when Sarith waited for him at the door of her room one evening and called him in, he could not help but concede.

  Of course Elza had noticed what was happening and realized what Sarith’s tactics were. What could she do? Oh, how she hated Sarith, but every time she thought that, she saw Sarith and herself as children again, as girls, always inseparable. How was it possible that it had become like this?

  A few weeks later, around the end of September, there came a message from Esther that Sarith would have to travel with them to Hébron at the end of the week, to continue on to the Feast of Tabernacles at Joden-Savanna. Rutger and Elza did not go along. Rutger found that the journey would be too tiring for Elza, and she thanked her lucky stars that her stepsister could end her stay in this way.

  But Elza’s respite was short-lived, for barely four weeks later Sarith returned. As a matter of course she installed herself in ‘her’ room. Maisa could hardly conceal her displeasure. It was now as if Sarith had decided to win Rutger over completely. Time upon time she contrived ways to be alone with him and tell him how much she loved him. He should never have married Elza, but her. Wasn’t she so much prettier than Elza. Did he realize how many men would gladly have had her, but she had brushed them off, for she wanted only him, just Rutger.

  Although Rutger himself found the situation highly painful – he was after all married to Elza and loved her – still it tickled his pride that this beautiful Sarith admitted openly that she loved only him. Despite his knowing that it hurt Elza, he found his way often enough to Sarith’s room to give in to passionate love-making. As he saw it, he was the one who was having a difficult time of all this. If he was with Elza, then Sarith was unhappy, and oh how easily she could start sobbing. If he was with Sarith, then it was Elza who was despondent.