Princess Ces'alena (Webster Fields)

by Mercedes Keyes

  The right side of the bed, against the partition, was a high back, leather winged chair. Katherine turned red…she knew that Manny sat in that chair. Out of all the feminine finery, and furniture…it dominated the room with it’s masculine lines and color. He had set her up with the splendor of the aristocracy. Not a corner in the cabin was neglected. She swallowed unable to believe her eyes.

  It was like stepping from outside into a whole new world and place. She stood feeling hurt and betrayed, fighting back tears that threatened to spring to her eyes. Standing by the door, Kayleen smiled to witness her reaction.

  Katherine straightened her shoulders, swallowed the lump in her throat and focused in on the sleeping form of Lena as she slowly walked past her bed. She stopped a moment staring at her badly bruised face, where the swelling had almost gone down, to be replaced by vivid deep blues, purple and green. Her eyes dark blue circles; her lips swollen and cut. She looked away from her back to Kayleen.

  “Where is the child?”

  “Sleeping!”

  “Sleeping — where?”

  “In the crib, through that door.”

  Katherine turned and slowly sauntered through it. Katherine seemed to take forever. Kayleen sighed in relief when the shocked, loud gasp came. A moment later, Katherine emerged with her eyes widened in astonishment. She walked back through the cabin, pulling her skirts close in to her, so as not to touch anything. A bright, growing, smile on her face as she strolled past Kayleen quite satisfied. Outside, she popped her parasol open and began to laugh; an uncontrollable laugh that came from deep within.

  Kayleen closed the door cutting off the sound; she turned and went to sit beside Lena on the bed. “See honey, I tol’ you…things gone work out. You was frightened for nothing baby. See, just listen to me; stick to our plan.” Kayleen murmured softly. “Do as you just did, and everything will work out for the bes’. But you gotta carry it through, ‘specially with him baby…you got to.” She spoke to a wide awake Lena, as she stroked the hair gently from her brow. Tears gathered once again in eyes where the whites showed deep crimson from bruising; then rolled out the side into her hair line. “Oh baby, please don’t cry no more. I can’t stand to see you cryin’ this way, it breaks my heart.”

  “Kayleen…I want my bab-baby back. I want my - I want my son…Oh God… Oh God…my son…my son Kayleen.”

  “Shhhh, hush now…I know. I know…-(she began dabbing at her tears with a cloth)- don’t forget…you got Hope, and you-…”

  “Please! Get my Hope…go get my Hope!!”

  “Shhh, soon as they gone…soon as they gone. I’ll bring her for you, but not for long. Just so you can feed her, and hold her a while, then we got to take her back. Till he come…and then…go.”

  Lena turned her head away ignoring the pain to her sore neck, to her traumatized body…for it could never compare to the pain in her heart; from losing her son, and next…his father.

  It was close to the noon hour as Manny rode down Okala for home; he’d driven his horse at a rapid trot once he came within a mile of the plantation. That was where he began looking for Mike, hoping that his son had taken a chance to come looking for him on his return. He grinned thinking about the look on his face when he saw the rifle he’d had made for him. Shaking his head, he knew Lena would have a fit about it, but the boy needed to learn now how to handle things of that nature for hunting, and in some cases, to protect himself and his mother, should the need ever arise.

  He was however disappointed as he drew closer to the plantation noticing that he hadn’t come to meet him. They were probably all at the front pond playing to fend off the heat. Then it occurred to him, Lena was due.

  “That’s it! She’s had the baby! He’s mother sitting no doubt.” He spoke out loud, chuckling to himself. “Hope.” He said the name out loud, trying it out on his ears, and nodded. “I like it, well my son, I’m sure if she’s here…you’re already calling her Hope.” Finally Manny came to the drive leading into Webster Fields, and right away, he could feel that something was wrong. It was too quiet, much too quiet…a calm where nothing and no one stirred. Usually there was plenty of activity going on, and there was always one of the kids up by the road, who would have spotted him by now, to take off yelling of his return.

  ‘Where are all the children?’ He thought puzzled.

  They were always playing around the yard, kicking up so much racket Morris would come out and chase them to the back. The women, where were they? Their loud talking and jesting should be ringing out as they carried on about their business. He came to the mansion, and the doors were closed, not a soul out on the front lawn. He rode on down the main lane that separated the cabins from the lawn and mansion. Nothing - no one. He stopped and stared at Lena’s cabin…and then at all the others. No one! Not one person to be seen. “What the hell is going on here!” He mumbled, riding a bit faster towards the horse stall and carriage barn. The further he rode, the more his heart and mind went crazy. He felt as if he was in a ghost town. It was too hot to be indoors, where were they, where was Caesar & Ben? They practically lived out on the front porch. Finally he heard the cry of a young child being corrected, so he knew they were still there. But something was wrong… seriously wrong.

  The clop of his horse’s hooves sounded increasingly loud with the silence that prevailed.

  They had to know he was back, they had to…how could they mistake him riding through? Morris hardly ever rode a horse… “What in God’s name has happened?” He grumbled. He came to the barn, dismounted and pulled the big doors open to enter, leading his stallion in behind him, he stopped midway.

  He stood there a moment letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer light, because what he saw before him, could not be…not in his barn. Dangling right from the top center beam, were ropes. Two ropes with tied loops at the bottom. On the ground directly below them were shackles and chains, each coming from opposite stalls toward the center. Under further inspection, and to his horror, blood. Blood splattered on the stalls, much of it surrounding the area of the floor where the shackles lay. Traces of it everywhere, testifying to a great deal being spilled.

  Manny stood and stared in disbelief. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing in his barn. From the shock, came anger that rapidly built to him shouting furious, “Who in the hell whipped one of my slaves in my absence?!” He turned to find no one around to answer the question. “There had better be one helluva reason for this, or the sonofabitch will feel his own flesh fry!” He muttered angrily as he hurried about unsaddling his horse, walking him to its stall, continuing to grumble angrily all the while, unaware of the person who quietly entered as he left the stall.

  Amos stood nervous and perspiring until Manny noticed him. When he did, he roared, “What in hell happened while I was away!? Who was whipped and why?! Where is Jordan!? Henry? Leon? Where is everyone?! What in blazing hell has happened?!!”

  Amos gulped fearfully, not so much for himself, but for Manny. It was a combination of fear and sorrow…piled high with regret for his master. If he was this mad already from someone being whipped, wait until he found out why.

  “Well!?!”

  “Umm, masta, we-…” He was cut off.

  “Don’t call me that! You know not to call me that!” Manny interrupted angrily.

  “I know, I’m sorry…um…Manny…we heard you coming and-…”

  “Why didn’t anyone meet me? What’s going on!?” He demanded walking out of the stall past Amos to pick up a bucket of oats to hang before his horse. “I’m tryin’ ta tell you, but you gots to be still and listen. Just - just hold tight now.”

  “I’m sorry…I can’t help it. I won’t stand for this! Someone is going to pay, and pay dearly!”

  “Well, please…just listen…cause what I got to tell, ain’t easy. An’ya makin’ it harda.” Amos explained. Manny took a deep breath. “I apologize, please explain.”

  “Umm, I’on know where to start.”

  Manny threw his hand
s up and spun in frustration, coming full circle he ran his hands over his head. “Godalmighty – just start!”

  “Ms Katherine…she come out’a her depression yesterday, sincin’ then, all hell broke loose.”

  “What do you mean?!” Manny snapped.

  “She - she have, Leon, Jordan and Henry … whipped!”

  “She what!?!” He roared. “Why?!”

  “Cause she -… they - we…try to stop ha’ Manny… ummm-…” He began fretting, wringing his hands nervously, tears came to his eyes, one rolling as he forced up to his mouth what he must spit out.

  Manny stared at him, at his manner, “Stop her from - what?!”

  With tears rolling, Amos rocked back shaking his head, hating to be the one that must tell him. His actions, his behavior set up the first flares of fright in Manny. “Amos, you scaring me, stop her – from what?”

  “She…we tried to stop her from – she …sell your boy…she done sol’ Mikey. He gone!”

  With eyebrows drawn above disbelieving eyes, Manny stumbled back as if he’d been pushed. He couldn’t have heard right, there was no way…no way. Yet the color drained completely from his face. He felt heat burn up his back to the base of his skull, he shook his head, trying to kill the feeling, and make sense out of what he was hearing.

  “Wait…wait – stop – nooo, no no no no no…” The denial spilled rapidly from his lips, shaking his head, he held up a hand, “…sl - slow down hang on a minute now …slow down. What are you saying? What do you mean - sold my boy? What does that mean? What-…”

  In a rush of words wanting to get it all out, Amos blurted. “Mikey gone! Manny she sold him to a slave trader yesterday! His name Chester Sands, we tried Manny…God know we try to stop her. Yo’ poor Lena fought him with all she had, he damn near lik’ta kill ha, but that Mr. Dobbs, him and James come and let that man take your boy away! Na’ they all gone.”

  Manny’s body trembled with suppressed fright – terror. Absolute horror shot through him; making him turn left then right for what to do. He bent a moment from his stomach cramping up. “Wait…wait…” He was trying to keep a steady head. ‘Last night, that man…it was him. Chester Sands…’ “I can catch him! I can catch him! Saddle me a fresh horse Amos… fast!!”

  He couldn’t get his thinking clear, he whimpered like a frightened child, turning one way, then the other, “Lord God… please….please…please help me now…please help me.” He fought feelings of frightened helplessness, then stopped looking to Amos as he asked. “Amos…Lena, how is she?”

  “Kayleen with her all night…he beat her bad Manny. But she gone live.”

  “Oh Jesus please…” Manny turned feeling everything crashing in on him at once. He didn’t know which move to make first, which way to turn. He wanted to go ask Jordan for help, then it occurred to him that he couldn’t, making him ask, “Jordan, Leon and Henry?”

  “They still alive, that Leon —(Amos shook his head)- that whippin’ like to kill’em.”

  Manny felt a rumbling sensation inside of him. ‘Keep your head - keep your head - keep your head - keep your head.’ He said over and over; battling with all the un-imaginable fears and emotions he felt boiling within him, on the verge of eruption. Amos was rushing to get his horse ready when he sprinted from the barn. Manny ran faster than ever in his life, sprinting towards the house. Faces flashing, and voices exploding in his head, Chester Sands face, and Charles voice over and over. The feeling he had last night, multiplied a hundred fold now. He slammed into the back door of the mansion, through the mansion, his mind voicing over and over, ‘No wonder…no wonder I felt something strange about Chester Sands. The man’s face scarred and beaten! I ignored it all because things happen!’ But what he hadn’t known, was what had happened to him, happened because he’d been to Webster Field’s and had taken his son. No wonder the hasty night departure, no wonder…no wonder, and he bellowed from the dinning room, not realizing how loud.

  "The sonofabitch had my son!!! Katherine!! Kath-ther-rinnne!” He yelled her name over and over throughout the house, as he took to the stairs, climbing them three at a time, forgetting that Amos had said she was gone.

  “Katherine…Katherine! Damn you – where are you… Katherine!!” One door after another slammed open and against their inner wall as he went from room to room throwing them open.

  “She’s gone.”

  He searched for her seeing through a veil of red, not yet aware of his father’s presence in the hall. “I saaaid – she - gone!!”

  Finally he heard after snatching open the last door, and out of pure raging frustration, he slammed it closed so hard the knob came off in his hand as he spun on his father. “Gone - where!?”

  “Don’t matter, she away…for awhile!”

  “Why!?! Why – didn’t – you – stop here?!” Manny’s face was livid, the veins standing out on his forehead and neck.

  “I didn’t know - what was happening - ‘till it was too late…he’s gone…it’s over…that’s that.” Morris spoke normally, nervous and shaken himself, but he didn’t know how else to deal with it.

  “That’s that?” Manny’s muscles grew taut, his hand squeezed the brass knob for control. “That’s — that?!” For the first time in his life, he actually felt as though he could strike his father. Morris stood with his insides trembling as if he could sense it.

  “It’s done I mean…the boys gone.”

  They were the wrong words, Manny shook as tears rushed to his eyes, mentally it was more than he could stand, everything rushed in and exploded.

  “My son is not gooone!! Nooooo!!!”

  “Manny!!”

  “Nooooooo!!!”

  He bellowed in a rage, half cry - half roar burning his throat and lungs. The rage that took over him drove him mad, unable to hold it in he spun pounding on the walls around him, his fist going through one spot after another, slamming against the wall and sobbing in such a fight, as if trying to break free from something that took hold of him. His body shook as he spun with his fist balled and suddenly he lurched back and hurled the knob past Morris. He sent it flying with such force, such speed that Morris felt and heard the swoosh as it cut through the air past his head, hitting the wall behind him, just missing the window at the end of the hall. It struck so powerfully, that it embedded over halfway into the wall.

  Manny reached up grabbing his hair with both hands, doubling over from the agony of his pain, his elbows tucked into his midriff as he fell back sobbing long and deep, rocking and slamming himself against the wall.

  “My Mi – Michael, nooo nooo nooo – please - I’m coming…I’m c-coming - I’m c-coming son…I’m coming.” He sobbed and rocked. He rolled onto his hands and knees, so dizzy everything around him spun threatening to send him into dark oblivion. “Ah - pleeeeeeeeease, help me - I gotta…I gotta find him…I gotta.” He prayed begging. He fell back against the wall, taking deep breaths. His mind playing scenes of his son coming to him crawling...his first steps…pudgy hands working to be picked up by him. His laughter…his son. Manny pulled his shirt up to wipe over his face, blowing his nose into it; he tried to remove it, and in another burst of rage, tore it from his body. He pushed up the wall behind him, still dizzy…wiping the sweat from his head and face. Sniffling, trying to gain control but his head throbbed heavy and painful. He staggered down the hall and entered his room.

  Morris stood in the hall alone now; his ears ringing, his heart hurting. All he could think of then, was Royal Sun…his wife he could see her, looking at him, eyes wide with disbelief and – disappointment in him. “I’m … I’m sorry Royal. I’m sorry – I didn’t know.” To his horror, he felt it…thick in the air…the severing of that very precious bond…between father and son. Because he knew, that if he had acted as soon as he had known, he might have gotten him back. A moment later, Manny re-appeared into the hall with a new shirt on, not sparing his father another glance, he ran for the stairs and down them leaping over several at a time.


  Morris stood in the same spot speechless. He looked back at the still embedded knob. His stomach cramped up in knots, knowing that with the little control his son had, he’d managed to scare the hell out of him. If that knob had struck him, he’d be dead now…but with what he just witnessed, he knew if he were, his son would have stepped over his dead body.

  “Lord…forgive me…forgive me, I should’ah gone after that boy. I should’ah got him.” The next thought that came to his mind was in the voice of Royal Sun, saying what he’d always known, ‘Our grandson…he was our grandson.’

  * * *

  Lena’s body shook with each racking sob that forced itself through her. She’d heard his return. His rapid flight past her cabin for the mansion; and minutes later his bellow for Katherine; his horrible cry of pain.

  She couldn’t help but wonder how much pain one person could take? She knew he’d left in search of their son, she had heard him ride away. She hoped that he would find him…but she knew better, too much time had gone by, he could be anywhere now. So badly she wanted to hold him, comfort him from the pain, it tore at her heart for this powerful man she loved, to be reduced to such agony and pain. She would bear it some how, but she couldn’t stand seeing him go through it. “I love you…I love you so…know that I am with you. I am with you.” Helpless to all, she turned into her pillow crying, knowing that if he didn’t return with their son, once again he would be deeply hurt; this time, by her.

  The plan Kayleen had put into action, she would carry through with. She had no choice. There was no way she could back out and stop it. They had already taken away her son, but no one was going to take her, Hope away.