The Watchman's Grace

by Craig Johnson

  “Oh my sweet Georgia rose. I did not come here to quarrel with you! But do understand it’s a gentleman’s duty to defend any Southern White man’s honor. Now let’s enjoy our morning together. We both have a busy day ahead.”

  Looking on in judgment, Darlene’s hard expression softened enough to signal her satisfaction. Returning to his meal, Harriston withheld slow fires of rage which he had not felt in months. Here was his name again, that damn blacksmith and his damn deeds! He was no hero in Harriston’s mind, but a threat. Time was approaching to find a solution.

  When breakfast finished, he excused himself from Darlene’s presence. Then, while walking to his next destination, Harriston’s temper got the better of him. He wanted to take out his nagging frustration with hard lashes on Fortune’s strong back. Stomping with intent towards the horses’ stables, Harriston built up conviction towards his wretched mission.

  Rounding the corner of the main barn door, he soon stopped dead in his tracks. Harriston was immobilized in a complete loss of resolve. Sheer anger transformed into mesmerized awe as he watched in silent vigil. Here before him was the prodigious output so many on White Rose hailed. And now Harriston took full sight of his servant’s capabilities.

  Bronzed arms of raw strength struck hot iron with a precision any machine would find hard to match. Forged metal plied like putty in his skillful hands, creating shoes on which Harriston’s best horses would prance ever so lightly. There was no lax in his endeavors, only a concentration even he could marvel.

  Damn this Fortune! Harriston Smith could not produce a punishment after witnessing such workmanship. He now surmised that other devices would be needed to implicate Fortune. As for today, a mere dressing down would suffice. He strode forward as his blacksmith cooled a shoe in the water trough.

  “Fortune, hello there Fortune!” he yelled out. “I’ve been meaning to have a word with you. Now listen here, you’re doing good work around White Rose. I’ve heard talk from more than a few people about the product of your efforts. And for that I have no quarrel with you.

  “But remember, I have to look out to make sure that every part of White Rose’s rules gets respected, and that includes our customs. One thing that makes it all work smoothly is that I treat my slaves well if they know how to behave. And that means knowing their place around here.

  “So let me remind you that no slave is bigger than their position. For instance, I could sell you on and White Rose would still be fine. Always know there is one thing I cannot stand, and that is a darkie getting too big for his britches! Do you understand me? Cause if that happens; I’ll put your black ass in the stocks!”

  Harriston did not even wait for a response. Before an astonished Fortune could utter a reply, the plantation owner was off to see Willis with the next issue on his mind. A few minutes later, Harriston found Willis near an overseer’s shed on one of the main cotton fields.

  “Good morning Willis,” he smiled. “We look to be having another fine day at White Rose. Do you have a minute for me?”

  “Always do Mister Smith,” responded Willis, knowing he held no choice in the matter.

  “Splendid,” Harriston responded while lighting a cigar. He began taking heavy draws while surveying the landscape about him. Then, after flicking spent ash to the ground, he cleared his throat in a purposeful manner, turning to face Willis.

  “Well now, it seems my wife is becoming too fond of that darkie Fortune,” he confided to an attentive Willis. “And I’m afraid that is going to force my hand on the matter. You know how much I value her in every regard. But the praise she heaps on that boy is mighty unhealthy, and getting a might embarrassing. Looks like it’s time to straighten him out a little, know what I mean?”

  Willis returned a sinister smile. “Yes sir, it’s about time. That nigra acted so mighty after helping out Tommy, like he was a king rooster! I don’t like it Mister Smith. We need to give him something that trips him up a bit. You know something that could put him back in his place?”

  Harriston nodded in emphatic agreement. “Right you are. Can you imagine my wife singing the praises of a darkie to me, a southern gentleman? Here I am; owner of one of the largest plantations in the state, where people in society beg for an audience with us! Yet I come into the main house and she’s raving on about that boy time and again! Like the sun shines and sets on him.

  “Well I’ve had my fill Willis. Now here’s what I have in mind. Listen carefully so we can put an end to this nonsense. And damn it, get a little closer! You don’t know which of these pickaninnies is lending an ear around us.”

  *****

  Darlene Smith finished her breakfast at a leisurely pace. Unlike her high strung husband, she knew people would wait on her as she wished. Darlene also found Harriston’s treatment of the servants quite harsh, certainly more than required.

  There and then she resolved to make their best workers feel a small degree of praise. After all, it could only help with spirits in their enterprise. In this vein, she determined her first pet project would be Fortune. So a few hours later, she made her way to the horses’ stables, where she found Fortune hard at his tasks.

  “Hello there Fortune; it seems we are having good weather today. I decided to come down here to see if my little brown carriage will be ready for service tomorrow?”

  Fortune whirled about, taken by complete surprise. Never had Darlene Smith taken it upon herself to make such routine inquiries. Usually one of the Big House servants or Willis would mark progress on these matters. He quickly straightened to address her.

  “Hello Missus Smith. Yes, it is warmer these days. And don’t you worry Missus Smith; that carriage will be ready by the time I leave here today.”

  Darlene greeted his reply with a satisfied smile. “That will be fine. There is another reason I paid you a visit. I am taking it upon myself to commend you for your workings at White Rose. It is well overdue in my opinion. My husband cannot bring himself to saying so, but I will. Yes, you are doing a grand job here!

  “Just keep going at it, because I fear Harriston seems to be looking for trouble these days, just itching for a reason to act. You hear me Fortune?”

  Immediately he recalled the frequent visits over the last while which culminated in today’s dressing down. “Yes Missus Smith, I hear you well enough.”

  “That is all from me. You go back to what you were doing now.”

  As Darlene Smith exited from the work area, Fortune was bewildered by the exchange. Today he received, from Mister Whip’s wife no less, words usually reserved for other members of the pale man’s society. Thinking upon this, Fortune became increasingly concerned as to her motives. So, unknown to Darlene, this visit had the opposite effect of her intentions.

  Shaking his head to erase these nagging thoughts, Fortune continued to forge his next shoe. He figured her visit was better than a fiery encounter with Mister Whip. And soon, the work area was filled with the familiar sounds of clank and hammer.

  But unknown to both was the presence of a third uninvited guest. He aimed to seek vengeance on the grey mare Hattie, who bested his authority earlier. And while he was sauntering towards the main stables, his ears had pricked up.

  As he moved towards the direction of these voices, Tommy quickly froze at the sight of Darlene Smith. Immediately he took cover, becoming a silent witness to her exchange with the blacksmith. He waited a safe time after her departure before scampering off into the afternoon hive of plantation activity to find his boss.

  *****

  One week after Darlene Smith’s visit, Fortune was surprised at how he was left to do his tasks in relative peace. In fact, even his overseer paid him no heed for a few days. When he started working on a particularly challenging fix for an old farm implement, he noticed his water trough was running low. Finding a large bucket, he prepared to fill it outside with the water pump. As he stepped outside the barn, he almos
t ran straight into Harriston Smith.

  “Sorry about that Master Smith!” exclaimed a surprised Fortune. “I didn’t see you coming ‘round this way sir.”

  “You don’t see a lot around here lately, do you Fortune! I’ve heard some disturbing news from one of the overseers a few days ago. Now I’ve tried to be a good Christian, though you don’t seem to know your place. But I will say it a second time; if you step out of line with me again it will be the end of you!

  “I don’t usually give a second chance to any nigra, but you’ve been saved by your good work and my wife’s kind words. But even all that will not save your black ass next time, ya hear me? Now get back to your work damn it!”

  Harriston Smith stormed away with continuing fury. Once again Fortune stood momentarily bewildered by Mister Whip’s second unexpected outburst. Fortune had given no cause to warrant such anger, but noticed he was becoming a frequent recipient of menacing advances by Mr. Whip. Thinking back to the visit of Missus Smith, he realized his nagging concern at the time was warranted.

  Upon composing himself, Fortune continued outside and fetched brimming buckets of water for the cooling trough. For the rest of the day, he worked at a feverish pace to forget his earlier confrontation.

  As nightfall draped the expansive lands of White Rose, he left for his crude quarters. Fortune had walked but a hundred yards or so before an unseen hand gently tapped his right shoulder. Immediately wheeling around, Fortune was frozen at the sight he beheld.

  “Be calm now child,” came back the soothing voice. “Don’t be alarmed Fortune. I’ve been watching you ever since your first day at White Rose. And I’ve kept my tongue tight all this time, but now my voice can be stilled no longer. I’ve heard talk from around here, and it whispers an ill wind. You are in grave danger son, and should be very careful about your future here.”

  Adding to his moment of disbelief was the author of this warning. Before his eye was the lady he witnessed upon leaving Nathaniel’s cabin. Here was the storied Ginger of White Rose Plantation, held in the highest regard from field hands to servants in the Big House. Her legendary wisdom was revered by all. Even more surprising was the fact he had not met her face to face until now.

  “So you are the lady Ginger they speak about? We have never met, but I was told by someone I trust not to fear you. Why do you give me such a warning? What should I look out for?”

  Ginger brought her arms forward and cupped Fortune’s strong right hand. “Listen closely Fortune. Remember that there are voices ‘round here that always talk, voices that always know, and voices that harm. It does you no good to play coy with me Fortune.

  “I know full well about your run-ins with Master Smith. The way I see it, there ain’t nothing you can do to put things right with Master Smith. You are a fine worker, but sometimes that ain’t enough. In your case son, I’m sure of it!”

  Fortune became very concerned upon hearing his worst thoughts confirmed. He was becoming very worried about facing Master Smith’s unprovoked aggressions. And there was nothing to calm this green eyed beast inside the ones calling themselves God-fearing gentlemen, while enslaving their fellow man for the fleeting gains of paper currency. Fortune now felt the sheer desperation of his plight.

  “If you know all this, then you must feel great pity for me. I’m in a hopeless place Ginger. And that only makes the pain hurt more. I know the day will come when I cannot forge another shoe or hammer another tool. Then that beast will have my life, I’m sure of it! It is only because I have no equal he keeps my life within an inch of the living.”

  “Oh my son, I know the brutal life we must endure too well. There is so much justice which needs to be paid for these murderous ways! But if one truly wants to find salvation, perhaps there may be a hope.”

  “What do you mean Ginger? My mind is so tortured I cannot think clearly. I live the talk of the idiot servant and the learned man as two minds in one head, and it burdens me, as surely as Mister Whip’s yoke!”

  Ginger cast a wide look about from their secluded spot off the main path. “It means the measure of a man’s resolve is in line with his contentment! If you are satisfied with your bondage, then turn away and forget we met. Otherwise, I may be able to quench a deeper desire within you.”

  “I’m still by your side. What are you saying Ginger? I feel no way out, and no way to get from under Mister Whip. One day he will kill me!”

  Ginger immediately turned away and cast a long look about her. She returned studied eyes upon Fortune.

  “Perhaps there is a way, but it is not for the weak. Look son, it’s too dangerous to talk right now. When the time comes, I will find you. Now hurry back to your hut.”

  Without a moment of hesitation Ginger promptly disappeared, leaving Fortune to continue a thoughtful journey back to his shanty.

  Three days later, with remembrances of his encounter with Ginger still prodding his mind, Fortune determined to visit Nathaniel to discuss their encounter. He wanted to believe in the sincerity of her intention, though learned before that even the closest allies were capable of betrayal.

  That evening Fortune entered the familiar confines of Nathaniel’s cabin. He sat waiting on a makeshift chair near his night table, motioning to a stool beside him.

  “Hello Fortune. I’m glad to see you in one piece. You sounded right desperate to meet me tonight, so I thought the worst had happened.”

  “Nathaniel, I’ve had Mister Whip coming at me for no good reason. He seems mighty angry, telling me how I don’t know my place. He says I do my job, but that may not be enough.”

  His elderly confidant shook his head hard. “What have I been telling you since the first day you were here? You are a proud man Fortune, and it will get you into trouble with the pale man. Mister Whip thinks you are challenging his authority. I’m surprised he didn’t maim you good by now!”

  “That’s just it Nathaniel. If he comes at me and makes me useless, I might as well be a goner. But someone came to me a couple of days ago, saying she may have a way to stop it from happening.”

  Nathaniel gave him a look of disbelief. “Who in the hell is going to stop Mister Whip from getting a piece of your behind if he wants to? That’s fools talk, and only a fool would speak it!”

  “Would you call Ginger a fool then?” Fortune blurted out.

  Suddenly the older man straightened in his chair. He leaned over towards Fortune’s stool.

  “Hush now Fortune, did you say Ginger told you this?” he remarked in a serious tone. “Well that’s a different matter now, ain’t it? What else did she tell you?”

  “Nothing more, except she will find me when the time comes. But why would she help me? I don’t even know this woman, and she’s gonna risk her life to help me? I’ve heard ‘round here about slaves trapping other workers to look good for master. How do I know this is not the same?”

  “Oh Fortune, you better wise up son! You don’t know everything, though you sure act it. I told you once before Ginger is on our side, yet you still can’t take advice through that stubborn mule’s head! Sometimes help comes in the strangest ways, even to an untrusting crust like you. One could do worse than listen to Ginger, but you must take heed!”

  “But how can I trust this woman?” Fortune pressed. “This plantation could be full of vipers, eager to uplift their miserable lot! So why does Ginger carry so much respect?”

  “If I’ve taught you anything, then I hope it was a little common sense. Ginger is a learned healing woman in the best traditions of the Motherland. If you believe in your untrusting hostilities you will be the less for it. But I think it’s best to stay on the right side of goodness. That will be the only way you have a chance around here.”

  Fortune listened carefully to Nathaniel’s words. Slowly his apprehensions gave way to guarded interest.

  “I guess hearing her out will not get me in too thick. If she tells
me nonsense, I don’t have to follow.”

  “That’s true Fortune, ‘cause it’s not Ginger’s words you should fear, but what Mister Whip may have in store for you. This is his world, and he’s planning something for your hide, of that you can be sure. Problem is, only he knows what and when.”

  *****

  That same morning Harriston Smith was alone with his thoughts in the main house library. His wife had left hours earlier to attend errands in town, leaving him to ponder her current demeanor. There had been no lovemaking for months, which he felt infringed upon his manhood. Harriston was master of White Rose, yet could not receive satisfaction from his own wife! As time progressed, this became a key issue bearing on his conscious.

  Rising from his comfortable chair, Harriston paced through each room on the main floor of his home. He found no one about save one, the pretty mulatto servant Maria. She first caught his attention after arriving at White Rose over two years before. Her delicate scent always aroused him, with her youthful skin frequently awakening his carnal desires. Now, with Darlene denying him pleasure, he wished to act upon his pent up frustrations.

  “Maria,” he called out. “Come to my study this instant! There’s a matter that needs tending to.”

  She soon arrived at the entrance to his well-appointed study. “Yes, Master Smith, what do you need me for?”

  Smith paused to take in her tender beauty before continuing. “Well you ain’t gonna help standing over there. Come in here and close the door behind you.”

  Nervously Maria closed the paneled door and walked timidly towards where Harriston sat waiting.

  With a broad smile he gestured for her to come around his large writing desk. “Now go a little closer to me so you can hear me better. Now that’s a good girl.”

  When Maria was within reach he leapt from his chair and grabbed her arms in one forceful motion. Harriston clenched her shaking body in the powerful grip of one crazed by raging lust.