Princess Ces'alena (Webster Fields)

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Princess Ces'alena (Webster Fields) Page 14

by Mercedes Keyes


  “Well I musta fixed a hundred plates or more.” This from Ruby, “But it don’t matter…what’s got to be, got to be. You need to get that through your head.” She reasoned with her.

  “She right you know. Ain’t a thang you can do t’stop it. You musta known it was gone happen sooner or later.” Cora added, “Don’t let these folks get to you. Let’s just get through this night, it’ll soon be over. Then you can get on with your life.”

  Lena knew they were trying to help… but she could not ignore the way she felt, or the fact…that in her mind, and heart - he was hers — a part of her life. “Honey, why don’t you go for a little walk and cool off.” Kayleen advised sympathizing with her.

  “I tried that, but Morris caught up with me and ruined it.”

  “Well, its slow now…go on.”

  Nodding softly she strolled off the platform, enjoying the cool evening breeze, she removed the lace netting, letting the gentle wind blow through her hair. The music sounded wonderful, making her tilt her head and close her eyes; she lifted her skirt as though she were on the dance floor and began dancing and twirling to the music, swaying smooth with an exotic rhythm that carried her away.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?” Manny asked evasively.

  “You know what, the one you just danced with…you like her?” Charles asked curiously.

  “She was okay I guess…a bit young.”

  “She’s old enough to marry.”

  “I don’t care Charles. Hell, she’s only seventeen years old; still a baby.”

  “Oh yeah, and when was the last time you saw a baby with such endowments?”

  Manny sighed, “My friend, you’re single…you’re more than welcome to her.” He offered leaning against the banister lifting his drink to his mouth.

  Charles leaned back also, taking a good look at his friend he impulsively said. “Why do I get the feeling that no matter who you meet tonight, she will either be too young; too old; too skinny; too plump; and too whatever else you might conjure in your mind?”

  Manny feeling uncomfortable with Charles scrutiny fidgeted and turned to lift his hip to one side over the banister in a half sitting position. Asking a question in answer to Charles’s question while lifting his drink to his mouth. “I don’t know? Why do you get that feeling?” Taking a sip of his drink, he caught movement from the side of his eye, turning to it he saw Lena twirling and dancing in time with the music.

  He froze, mesmerized…as if under a spell, he saw and heard nothing else that moment. The rate of his heart picked up in beat… it seemed that the last rays of sunlight left, waited for that moment to shine…right down on her, lighting up her tawny colored hair. It glowed like dark honey gold, against skin smooth and gleaming. The cream color blouse she wore accented her rich coloring. The skirt she wore bellowed out around her as she twirled, then she swayed with the swing of her hips one way, then the other; all done as she danced in the setting of the sun. The lust in him sang thick and hot for her…the last thing on his mind, was this gathering…he wanted to follow her into those woods, trap her against a tree, fling that skirt high while staring long and hard into her eyes the very second before he…

  “Manny?! Manny!” Charles called again; Manny dragged his eyes away back to his friend. “You know, you really should be more careful my friend. The desire you show, when you look at her is much too obvious.”

  Refusing to comment one way or the other, Manny took another sip of his brandy. Taking a deep breath, Charles tried advising him. “Just a word of advice, you really should give consideration to selling her before it’s too late. Keep your son, but-…” Charles stopped, swallowing hard. The look from Manny at that moment blocked all further advice within.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Webster…may I have a word with you?” A young man of twenty or so interrupted as he approached the two bachelors. Manny, happy for the diversion turned to him. “Sure…how may I help you?”

  “Well this is not an easy thing to ask of you. You see, I’m aware of the turn downs from the past, but seeing that you will soon be taking a bride, perhaps you might consider it.” He began. Manny stiffened, feeling it coming…it wasn’t the first time.

  “Consider what?” The question was coarse.

  The young man cleared his throat somewhat nervously… taking in the sudden dangerous gleam in Manny’s eyes. But he’d been watching her most of the evening after his family’s arrival. He wanted her, and every man had his price, especially one about to marry, and his father had the money to pay.

  “I wish to purchase a wench in your possession.”

  “Which?”

  “Your fancy…Ceś alena…ah ah…before you turn me down.” He held up his hand to stop Manny who was definitely about to. “You must consider the fact that you will soon be taking a bride. A new missus … she won’t appreciate your having a fancy like that one. Save yourself future problems, sell her to me, I’ll treat her good. Set her up real nice, I’m willing to offer you five thousand for her… or more. She won’t have to lift a finger with me, if you know what I mean?” He winked while grinning.

  “Are you done; anything else?”

  “No…that is it…other than coming to a price.”

  “I see…so let’s not waste your time - nor mine; neither today…nor tomorrow - will Ceś alena be for sale; not now…not ever! Neither you nor your father will ever come up with an amount I would consider. So, in other words…” Manny bent down close to his face and snarled, emphasized by a two finger jab to his chest. “…fuck off!” Returning to his full height - his eyes warned not to be brazen enough to ask again. The young man stood frozen a moment, then spun, wincing from the throb of the jab to his chest, it hurt. With head down, he disappeared into the crowd.

  Manny looked up at Charles only to see his father standing behind him. “You should have taken him up on the offer…that wench is too insolent because of you. She insulted one of our guests; I had to set her straight.” Morris informed him.

  “What do you mean…set her straight?”

  “Damn you - she is a slave! She should act like one! She’s here to serve our-…”

  “She’s a human being and not required to do anything of the sort.” Manny defended angrily. Morris and Charles both stood shocked.

  “Then what exactly is it she is supposed to be doing?” Morris demanded to know.

  “Anything she damn well pleases! She makes her contribution here just as the others. But she’s not under any obligation to watch me make the ultimate sacrifice. Let the other’s serve the guest.”

  “Damn you Manny! That is exactly why she is the way she is! She’s a goddamn slave-…”

  “Only because we’ve enslaved them all! In her homeland…she would not be a slave! Leave her alone! I’m here to find a wife, leave me to it, that I may get it done!” Again, both men stood looking at him in disbelief. “And don’t you say a word - not one word!” He warned Charles, angry that he even had to carry through with this farce. Charles threw his hands up. “Not a word.”

  Just then the crowd gushed in surprise; and all turned facing one direction forming a half circle. “Now what is going on.” Morris muttered aloud leading the way to the opening with Charles and Manny following. To their surprise Ferrus and Mike were in the center doing a dance in complete unison, with Mike mimicking some seemingly difficult steps. Then both separated, as Ferrus challenged Mike’s skill in a dance off. He’d do a few fancy steps to the music, and then stop, eyeing Mike to copy them, which he did to Manny’s shock. Ferrus did this three more times, adding more difficult steps, feigning frustration as each time Mike copied them until he was dancing circles around him.

  The crowd roared with laughter at the display. It was Mike’s turn to do a fancy step that he’d been practicing very hard on; Ferrus pretended to try it once, twice, and faltered the last time, waving it off not to try again. Laughter again followed as they strolled around each other, one eyeing the other up and down about to wrap it up.
One copying the other, they tapped back in unison, skipping a tap to kick high in front, and then backwards, when both stopped to look at the other to see if ready. A nod, then salute was the start of a rapidly quick tap, spinning between sets of ten, and for the grand finale, they skipped a step going backwards as far as the platform would allow, stopped and started spinning forward tapping as they did in smooth rhythm to stop at the end of the stage throwing their right foot and hand forward with a stomp as their left hand swung over head, both yelling, “Yeah!”

  The crowd burst into loud approval and applause; the loudest coming from Manny. Lena, who watched from the sidelines clapped proudly as well, while Kayleen held her stomach from laughter feeling as his mother did. Morris stood with his head bowed in shame at the spectacle his son was making of himself openly praising the boy. The musicians went back to playing their planned arrangement and the guest spread back over the dance floor.

  Some complimenting Manny on the fine entertainment as he walked past them to his son; those who did, unaware that the child was his bastard son by his slave, assuming the child was born by natural means…that is, a white wife who obviously passed. It was not so unheard of after all. Not all shared in the loop of gossip, even so, there were others who knew otherwise, and it wasn’t long before the murmurs of fact began.

  Mike and Ferrus stepped down from the platform as Mike made a direct dash to his mother, still breathing hard from his performance. “Mama, did you see me, did you see? I did it…everything Ferrus taught me I remembered. It was so easy mama…and fun!” He exclaimed excitedly, wiping sweat from his brow. Lena had knelt before him, gazing at him with loved filled, proud eyes. “I saw you baby, you were the best I’ve ever seen.” She hugged him following the praise just as Manny came up behind him.

  “That makes two of us. However did you learn all that so fast!?” Manny asked. Mike looked up behind him and felt a joy wash over him that made him glow; his father had witnessed it and was proud too. He knew Morris wouldn’t approve, but Ferrus had said not to worry about him. “Come on; give over… what’s your secret?” Manny furthered ruffling his son’s hair. Grinning Mike admitted, “Well, Johnnypoe is always dancing and so is Samuel, they always showing me stuff too. So I been doing it a while. But Ferrus did all that.” He explained, slowly coming down from his high. Manny felt the urge to embrace his son, but knew the shock it would cause before those that knew the truth. He’d stirred enough talk for one night, there was no sense in adding more to it.

  Lena felt tears welling up in her eyes; didn’t he realize that they were a family? How could he go through with it? Regardless of what the world around them said…in her eyes, he was all she would ever want…and to be this close to him, with their son…shook her emotionally. She had to get away from him.

  “It’s late now…time for you to get ready for bed.” She stood fighting to keep eye contact from Manny.

  “Ohhh, already? I ain’t a bit tired, it’s still early.” Shepherding her son away, she turned her back to Manny. “Well, you haven’t had much to eat today…we’ll go to the mansion, grab you a snack and a sweet. After you eat…then…”

  Manny stood watching them leave him, the words she spoke trailed with the distance and the background noise from the music and guests.

  “You got guests to see to, and a wife to find! You won’t find her this way.” Morris reminded him from behind…growing angrier with his actions towards the slave and the bastard. Manny’s heart was troubled… everything in him warned him not to go through with it. He should be with them, by Lena’s side with their son between them. But he was for the moment, caught with no way out. He turned ignoring his father’s presence heading back for the platform and guests.

  Mrs. Gordon and Mrs. Hastings were standing nearby with their ears stretched to the limit. Experienced in the arts of eavesdropping as they were, they knew where to be when all the action took place.

  Having heard the little exchanges between slave, bastard and owner, their glances to each other confirmed what they’d heard. It was an unspoken understanding that they would meet in eager anticipation to mill over the facts gathered; Mrs. Gordon was the first to open, asking...“Did you hear that? Now you’ve heard it with your own ears…with this crowd, it’ll be all over the county in no time.”

  “What a shame. I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” She returned fluttering her fan as if the experience had upset her. Mrs. Gordon tilted over again covering her mouth as she spoke into her friend’s ear. “What do you think of the boy?”

  “My God, he’s the spit of him.”

  “You see, I couldn’t wait for this evening…although I’ve heard here and there of him, it is the first I’ve seen of him.”

  “Surely no slave mothered him?”

  “Oh yesss.” She nodded with knowing eyes. “Ceś alena - they call her Lena, I believe-…”

  “Nooo!”

  "Oh yes, one of the servers.”

  “Which?”

  “Light colored eyes, loose light colored hair. He’s been offered quite the price for her, many times; won’t sell. She was right there with the boy.”

  “My God…I thought it was his mammie.”

  “Aye, one and the same, I am certain, she birthed the child. To think he actually used his backyard sin to entertain their important guests.” Mrs. Gordon pointed out. Mrs. Hastings was nervous…after all, she’d brought her daughter and her niece to this gathering. “I have to find my girls…I think its best we leave this place.” The look Mrs. Gordon gave her was filled with smug sympathies.

  Manny could not hear their topic of conversation, but he could just imagine who it was about. Feeling an evil bug arise, he decided to enlighten them a bit more and approached them with a smile, making them stammer in surprise. “Mrs. Gordon, Mrs. Hastings, I hope you’re enjoying yourselves, and everything meets with your approval?!” He then winked at Mrs. Gordon - whose eyes widened in shock.

  “Ah echmm…everything is quite grand I assure you Mr. Webster.” Mrs. Gordon answered after clearing her throat. “Ah yes, we find it…very entertaining…to say the least. And the boy is sooo, so talented; an overseer’s child?” Mrs. Hastings asked slyly then gave her friend a knowing glance.

  “No ma’am…the little bastard’s mine…”

  “ACH!” They both gasped out, Mrs. Hastings fan, doubled its speed.

  “…-by my wench Lena. The dancing and talent, well…I think it comes from her side. Ah well, may you enjoy the rest of your evening ladies. Now if you will excuse me, I have other guests to attend.” Walking away, he felt a strong hand roughly grasp his upper arm pulling him to the side of the platform. Yanking his arm free, he turned to see his father’s reddened face, and swallowed with a deep sigh.

  “Have you - lost your mind?! What are you trying to do to us?! Have you forgotten the reason for this party?! How dare you stand there and admit what you just did to those old gossiping biddies.” He bit out the words angrily, standing almost nose to nose with Manny.

  “Look, I’m sorry, but you can’t expect me to pretend when this is what you wanted, not I! I’m here, what more do you want?”

  “You married, and soon… I did my part concerning the boy-…”

  “My son!”

  “Shut up about him at this gathering!”

  “Let me tell you something ol’man. Half of the people here are only here to find something to gossip about. You don’t think they know who he belongs to? One would have to be blind not to see who fathered the boy.”

  “And that’s just the reason I wanted you to sell’im!”

  “I have one final word on that, any man - who dares to take my son…sell my son - I swear to God … he’s a dead man.”

  “You threatening me boy?”

  “I love my son, and will protect him…with the same fierceness you once loved me and wished to protect me…that is all I have to say.”

  “Echmm.” Charles cut in to get their attention. “
Gentlemen, I think this is called a scene which is now being viewed.”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Morris retorted with a flippant wave of his hand not wanting to hear anymore himself. The three positioned themselves in a more complimentary fashion. “Just don’t you forget we both agreed to certain terms, and I plan on holding you to it, so…no more displays like that or-…”

  “Like what?!” Manny shot aggravated.

  “Praising the boy the way you did for all to see. You agreed to keep him a secret, that’s what I mean for you to do. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes - loud and clear!” Manny conceded irritably and then brightened a little adding. “But even you must admit…he was good, just as natural as if he was born to dance.”

  “Course he is, he no better than the heathens surrounding us. I hear over there in Africa where they come from… that’s all they do, stay up all night jumping up and down dancing like the wild animals they were before we-…”

  “Lena is not African, she’s from an Island.”

  “Where Africans were dropped off, or escaped off the ships to. It’s in her, she just got a few other things mixed in…but African still the same; ungrateful lot they are; ‘til we come along, not a one was civilized…now because of us-…”

  “They’re beaten and enslaved, treated like animals – all dignity stripped from them.”

  “We did them a favor!” Morris defended hotly.

  “Well don’t do me any!” Manny returned looking the other way, smiling and nodding at a few guests…pretending their conversation a pleasant one. Charles leaned against the banister chuckling because he couldn’t believe the two.

 

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