The Slave Master's Son

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The Slave Master's Son Page 25

by Laveen, Tiana


  “So John, what are your intentions regarding this matter?” she asked, tempering her tone.

  “Master Stewart’s in New York, which is where I live. He’s staying with my wife, our two children, and me, and is receiving diligent medical care. I came here to help in his last request – to have all of his children around him so that he may speak to us before passing away.

  “Sarah, I can never pretend to understand the pain you endured from your childhood and having him not participatory. However, please be assured that he and I had a rather lively discussion regarding this and I wasn’t respectful to him, in the least. He and I’ve had a tumultuous relationship, Sarah. I don’t wish to bore you with the details nor monopolize your time with my own sordid stories, but his being in your life directly may not have been the bed of roses you imagined it could be,” John explained, peeking Sarah’s interest.

  John continued, “He’s a very intolerant, demanding man who let many of his own dreams go in an effort to keep up appearances. Not that it will make anything better, but I’d also like to state to you that though he wasn’t honorable in the least regarding your mother, I do believe that he honestly thought the money he was sending was taking care of any necessary matters. I’m sorry for the loss of your mother, as well.” John stood up and prepared to leave. He looked at the address on the paper.

  “Wait a moment,” Sarah said as she rose to her feet. “I want more information.” She hung her head briefly. “What do you have there?” she asked, watching John read the paper.

  “It’s the address of your sister, Mary.” He handed the piece of paper to Sarah.

  “This is incorrect. Mary lives here now. Her husband passed away two years ago,” Sarah said solemnly as she handed the paper back to John.

  “Do you know where Jonah is? I understand you three were together at some point in time?” John questioned. Sarah looked away abruptly. Graham cleared his throat.

  “Jonah’s probably not a good candidate to speak with regarding a voyage right now. Though they did have different mothers, they did stay together and moved here from New York together. He was in the war and now walks unsteadily, however, his lack of mobility, depending on his pain threshold that day, sometimes leaves him completely unable to move. I highly doubt he could make the trip, even if he agreed to it,” Graham explained.

  “I see,” John said as he tucked the paper back in his pocket.

  “Mary is upstairs. I’ll retrieve her,” Sarah said as she dismissed herself.

  “John,” Graham spoke slowly as he lit a pipe. The thick orbs of smoke swam through the air like cotton filled bubbles. “Though Sarah and I both appreciate what you’re attempting to do, a part of me is concerned that this may bring her more detriment. You haven’t been privy to her life, but I assure you, it’s one of great loss and grief. She often times had to survive on her own accord with little to no assistance. Sarah is the strongest out of the three from an appearance standpoint, however, she’s also the most sensitive. She keeps this under wraps from most of the outside world. She’s the guardian, the protector of the threesome, so please understand that more than likely, Mary will follow Sarah’s decision,” Graham warned nonchalantly.

  John nodded in understanding as he heard two sets of footsteps approaching. Mary stood slightly behind Sarah. She was about the same height, but significantly lighter and brandished the same piercing blue eyes as John. Her features were delicate and her hair jet-black in loose spirals along her face. She looked at John curiously, not saying anything.

  “Hello, Mary. My name’s John. I’m your brother.” John extended his hand. Mary slowly approached him. He took her hand and kissed it. Mary’s eyes began to fill with tears.

  “You look just like him,” she said in a low voice. “It’s like seein’ a ghost, even though he ain’t quite dead yet,” she added. John nodded uncomfortably as he sat back down.

  “So, John, I was explaining to Mary the nature of your visit. How long have you known about us?” Sarah asked as she took her seat next to Graham once more while Mary sat next to John, avoiding eye contact.

  “I always believed you may exist, but Master Stewart refused to acknowledge my accusations. Only until a few days ago was it revealed and confirmed. I had no idea what your names were, where you lived, if you were alive or deceased – nothing. Apparently right before he took ill, he decided to find out information about your whereabouts and had collected quite a few leads. After he became sick, he alerted me of the situation. Now it appears time is of the essence.” John shook his head.

  “Please make no mistake, John, if we do this, it’s not for Master Stewart. It’s for us,” Sarah said firmly. “Though you tell me tales of his tyranny, you still had the better of the two lives. You’re not a mulatto shipped off and ignored, forced to live in poverty. Some days I had wished I had never been born,” Sarah added sternly.

  “I’m not terribly keen on seeing him,” Mary interrupted. “Jonah may feel differently. I’m not sure,” Mary said softly.

  “May I ask where Jonah is?” John inquired. Sarah looked across the room then quickly back at John.

  “Jonah stays here and there. He has a small house not too far from here, though.” Sarah looked at Mary then back at John. “Did you want to arrange a meeting with him as well?”

  “Yes, I’d like to ask him, man-to-man, brother-to-brother, the same thing I’m asking you and Mary,” John answered.

  “Very well. I’ll have him notified of the situation. In the meantime, do you have somewhere to reside for the evening? It’s starting to get late,” Sarah questioned.

  “No, I was planning to find a room somewhere,” John answered.

  “No need – you may stay here in our guest quarters,” Sarah said dryly.

  “Thank you. I’m grateful. That’s very generous of you.”

  “There’s no need for me to take my anger out on you, though sometimes it may seem irresistible. Please follow Laura,” Sarah instructed, waving her hand carefree. The short woman that greeted him at the front door entered the room and smiled pleasantly. John grabbed ahold of his bag and followed her up the steps. She opened the door to a bright room.

  “Mr. Stewart, please make yourself at home. Dinner will be served in one hour.” She closed the door politely behind herself and hurried back down the steps, leaving John to his vast assortment of chopped up and confusing thoughts.

  “My Lord,” he muttered as he placed his luggage on the bed. “Master Stewart, thank you for this opportunity to be in the lion’s den due to your misdeeds. I’ll probably be served for dinner tonight, along with a side of corn,” he complained as he organized his papers and took out a fresh pair of trousers and shirt.

  As he leisurely read his notes, John began to smell the strong aromas of food cooking. Rich gravies, stewed potatoes, and a baked chicken were surely on the menu if his nostrils didn’t deceive him. He smiled as his stomach rumbled, looking forward to the nourishment even though he was in the midst of sorrow and possible combat.

  John removed his clothing and stood at the water basin in his room. He meticulously cleaned his face, rubbing the slight stubble on his profile that was growing back. He washed his neck and shoulders, allowing the lukewarm water to run rivets down his torso and chest, dancing with the downy hairs upon it. He stood tall as he continued to cleanse himself, ringing the thick wash cloth repeatedly before casting it to the side of a chair to dry. John ran his fingers through his dark hair and looked at himself before turning and dressing quickly. As he slid on his shoes, he heard a bell ringing. He leisurely placed his paperwork neatly back into his bag and headed down the steps, observing the intricate horse riding paintings on the wall on his way down to the main dining room.

  “John, please have a seat here,” Sarah insisted. It was a chair straight across from her. Mary raced out of the kitchen with a large pitcher of iced tea. She sat down to John’s right as Graham made his way into the room. He nodded appreciatively at John, and then took his seat. Ju
st as John suspected, the buffet before him consisted of a beautifully broiled chicken, golden in color and oozing with juiciness and flavor. A large clear bowl of mashed potatoes lay nearby, along with a few boiled ones, sprinkled with salt and pepper. A gravy dish was filled to the brim and a platter of hand picked green beans was shiny with pats of semi- melted butter.

  “This looks and smells delicious,” John remarked as he poured himself a glass of iced tea.

  “Thank you. Mary and I helped Laura prepare it. We enjoy cooking,” Sarah responded solemnly as she passed a large pan of rolls to him.

  “So John, without any further ado, let me tell you a bit about my life. I’m sure Mary will join in.” Sarah smiled faintly. “This house that we’re in belonged to my mother’s employer. She was an elderly, white woman with an obscene amount of money. She was a twice widow. Despite her riches, she was quite good to my mother and fond of her. Upon her death, the widow Gretchen had no children. She left all of her possessions to my mother who in turn left them to Mary and me for she soon fell ill and couldn’t enjoy the benefits of all of her years of working and scrubbing and struggling. We’d help Mama clean and iron as well as cook. Though the house is in need of some repair that we currently can’t afford, I’m blessed to have it. Mary got married and left but…”

  “I returned after my husband was murdered,” Mary spoke up as she buttered her roll.

  “I…I’m very sorry to hear that,” John responded humbly. Mary nodded.

  “Graham’s family is some of the first Black bankers here. Graham never lived in poverty and had a knack for making money. I had to succumb and go to the bank realizing that I needed assistance with my inherited assets. That’s how he and I met,” Sarah smiled sweetly.

  “I took one look at her and was smitten,” Graham stated as he looked up at John with a glimmer in his eye. “She looked like an angel drifting in there. I could barely concentrate on my work,” Graham grinned.

  “He pursued me and how could I resist such a charming, handsome and kind man? Six months later we were married,” Sarah continued.

  “I’m originally from New York,” Graham stated as he cut a slither of chicken. “My father’s family was here, from New Jersey. My parents eventually both returned here due to a business venture at the time that proved to be lucrative however New Jersey, as of late, has highs and lows, great fluctuations of income. It’s unstable at best. I traveled back and forth to New York for business and eventually planted roots here again as an adult. My father was a learned man who was able to open a bank here and, despite the financial woes, it’s managed to survive with the assistance of myself and my two brothers,” Graham stated.

  “Well coincidentally, Graham, I too worked in the banking system for a short period of time in Manhattan,” John declared as he took another sip of his iced tea. “I was a manager. However, my training and passion is with law. I’m a lawyer and very proud of my work, though at times it can be tedious and unfair.” Graham looked up with great interest.

  “I’m glad that you then have a respect for the banking industry. Manhattan has some of the best banks in the country. Which one were you at?” inquired Graham.

  “The Bank of Manhattan,” replied John. Graham smiled widely.

  “Figures – I couldn’t get in there to save my life. That’s an excellent bank.”

  “Why were you there for only a short time?” Graham inquired. John swallowed deeply, smiled and took a long gulp of his tea until the glass was dry. He sat in his seat twitching ever so slightly. It was the long awaited gateway to a question that would lead to more questions and more than likely, disapproving reactions. John tapped the sides of his mouth with his linen napkin and smiled.

  “Well, Mr. Hawthorne, no sense in me beating around the bush. This was going to have to be discussed sooner or later,” John sighed. Sarah perked up. She stopped cutting her chicken and looked at John intensely while Graham leaned back slowly in his chair. Mary finally made eye contact as she continued to chew on the side of her roll.

  “I had run into a bit of legal trouble,” John continued. “It appears that being charged with miscegenation isn’t good for an attorney’s career. I was reprimanded, paid a fine, and put on vocational probation. During that time of vocational probation, I had friends at the bank who allowed me to bring in income in order to support my family. I did have a new respect for the industry after my stint there,” John explained. Sarah smiled wickedly then cackled. She threw her napkin onto the table as her head lulled back and forth.

  “Oh my!” she managed to utter between hysteric gasps. “Master Stewart’s son has taken his father’s same path! I s’pose the love for dark meat’s hereditary!” she spat angrily, rising up from her chair.

  “Sarah!” Graham warned. “Would you please let John, your brother, continue his story! Don’t judge him yet.”

  “What’s miscegenation?” questioned Mary with a deeply confused look on her face.

  “He’s bopping a negro, Mary!” Sarah hollered.

  “Sarah.” Graham covered his face with his hand and shook his head in disbelief. John smirked and placed his napkin gingerly back onto his lap. “Sarah, since you have all the answers and assume I’m just like our father, why even inquire? Your anger towards Master Stewart and his abandonment of you, Mary, Jonah and your mothers is being thrust in my direction. I can take that. I can accept that and actually expected it, however I won’t accept you making false statements regarding my character and intentions. You don’t have all the facts and I’m not certain you even care to have them. You have ideas in your mind that you wish to hold tightly onto and anything that deviates from that image would more than likely make you feel out of sorts and bewildered. In your mind, you’ve created personalities for everyone that you don’t know, regarding your father. You assigned a personality to me and I’m not fitting the bill and instead of hearing what I have to say, you jump on the first tidbit that sounds fitting to your scenario and have an outburst.

  “You don’t know me. I don’t know you. He’s both of our fathers. His blood runs through both of our veins, whether we appreciate the fact or not. You’re just as much capable of being like him as I am due to that fact. He’s callous and hard headed. From the looks of things, you also fit that bill. I’m not bopping a Negro, as you so eloquently put it. She’s my best friend and my wife. We have a family together. I didn’t impregnate her then abandon her. We were married before any bopping took place! We live as a family, and for all intents and purposes, people now turn a blind eye. We grew up together. She was your friend too” John uttered. “May I have some more iced tea, please?” he asked as he studied Sarah’s face, trying to maintain his composure.

  “Yes.” Mary rose from her seat and took the pitcher into the kitchen to be refilled. Sarah slowly sat back down into her chair.

  “Who is she?” she asked, bite still in her tone.

  “Hannah.” John looked Sarah deeply into her eyes, not breaking his gaze. Sarah sat silently and mulled over the information in her mind before responding.

  “I remember Hannah. She was Mary’s girl,” Sarah said humbly. “She was a nice girl. She’d sneak me and my other brothers and sisters sweet treats and we’d play together. I’d see you and her playing outside the big house sometimes,” Sarah reminisced. Mary returned with a refilled pitched and set it down in front of John before quickly taking her seat.

  “Yes, well, we were children then, but I loved her even at that point. I just couldn’t articulate it. Regardless, Hannah and I’ve been through quite a bit trying to remain together, more than you will ever know and that I wish to relive, so please don’t trivialize this relationship into purely carnal or twist it into a sordid perversion. I’m nothing like my father as it pertains to this topic and I resent the accusation.” Sarah looked away.

  “I apologize,” she said halfheartedly.

  “Apology accepted.” John quickly moved along. “So, Graham, that’s how I came to be in the banking industry.”
He poured himself a fresh glass of iced tea. Graham nodded and clapped his hands together.

  “I like you, John,” he said, smiling while trying to cloak a piece of chicken in his mouth between chews. “I’m a good judge of character, and I’m glad that you came by despite the purpose of the visit. I believe Sarah and Mary needed this, regardless of their choice at the end of their deliberation. I hope that in spite of what’s decided, you stay a part of their lives,” Graham said in a fatherly tone.

  “I will if they will allow that,” John answered, looking directly at Sarah who was now trying to read his deepest thoughts with her haunting dark eyes.

  “Well, is anyone ready for dessert?” Sarah smiled, quickly changing the subject. “It’s apple cobbler.”

  “Oh, my favorite!” Graham responded as he patted his now slightly protruding stomach.

  “I know, I made it just for you!” Sarah smiled affectionately at her husband.

  “You know what, Honey,” Graham asked, “let Mary and me get it.” Graham ushered to Mary by cocking his head to the side. Mary followed his cue and went into the kitchen. Sarah held her fingertips together and looked across the table at John. Neither of them said a word as they stared at one another.

  “You’re like him,” John finally said.

  “How so?” Sarah asked with obvious annoyance.

  “I don’t mean it in a negative way,” John soothed. “You’re a very determined person and hide your emotions well,” he clarified.

  “I see,” Sarah responded. “Obviously not well enough – he’s still a sore spot for me, after all of these years. You’d think I would’ve been over it by now,” Sarah shrugged.

  “I don’t think anyone gets over abandonment, Sarah. They just live through it.” John ate the last string bean on his plate.

  “Did he ever talk about me or my Mama?” Sarah asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

  “I’d be doing you a deceptive disservice in the interest of mending your breaking heart if I said ‘yes,’” John answered, looking down at his plate. A single tear ran down Sarah’s cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

 

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