by Londyn Skye
During their past few months together, James could feel how much their newly reformed bond and their intimacy meant to Lily as well. After causing her so many years of trauma, it was gratifying for him to finally bring so much pleasure into her life. It was the reason why he reveled in the jubilance she emitted after making love to her in the late-night hours after her shows. Seeing her smile, hearing the sound of happiness in her voice, and listening to her laughter was a bright and sunny side of her that he wanted to ensure he never stripped away from her again. Knowing that Lily was happy was all James needed to feel completely settled at the end of their long days.
Lily’s happiness had become so intertwined with his that James was bothered by the fact that she was so silent as they lay together following her final performance in Jamestown. Lily’s hunger for him had been strong and the passion was explosive, just as he had come to love, but afterward she emitted no emotion whatsoever. James was stroking her hair and kissing the back of her neck and shoulders, waiting for her to relax, melt into his arms, and let his favorite side of her emerge as they recounted the ups and downs of the day, or laughed over silly things into the early morning as usual. But instead, he could feel the tension in Lily’s body as she lay there unusually stiff, staring across the room at nothing in particular, having yet to say a word.
“Lily? What is it? Somethin’s botherin’ you.”
“Nothin’,” she lied, trying not to bring a dark cloud to their sunshine.
“No need for lies. Tell me what’s ailin’ you.” James shifted his body upwards to get a better look at the profile of her face. “I can feel in your body somethin’ ain’t right.”
Lily exhaled sharply. She was comforted yet frustrated that James read her emotions so well that she could never get away with white lies. “I just can’t seem to get ’er off ‘a my mind today.”
“Who?”
“My motha’.”
James slowly rolled Lily over to face him and was greeted by a distant look in her eyes. “What about your happy memories? Ya’ know, the one of you and your motha’ and that hand clappin’ song? Or layin’ out at night with the telescope and namin’ the stars togetha’? I rememba’ you told me years ago that thinkin’ about those times always helped.”
“I know … But not today. All day I done tried, but it ain’t a thang I can do to stop myself from missin’ her. Can’t nothin’ seem to stop the pain this time … Nothin’.”
James wiped away an escaping tear from Lily’s eye as he listened intently. “Maybe a new memory’ll help. With all the stories you’ve told me about your motha’, I’m sure there must be a dozen or more. Let’s see, how ’bout the time when y’all were tryna take the clothes off ‘a the line before it started rainin’ too hard, but the both of ya’ just ended up slippin’ and slidin’ in the mud, droppin’ clothes everywhere, howlin’ with laughta’. Or how ’bout that time when you both…”
“Thank you, James. But memories ain’t what I need,” Lily interrupted, despite being impressed by how he had remembered those stories from so long ago. “Somehow, I just know in my heart that the only thing gon’ stop the pain this time is seein’ my mama’s face again. Until then, somehow, I feel like I deserve the pain I’m feelin’,” she said, angrily rolling over.
“Why would you deserve it?”
“’Cause! All this damn money we got, and here I am layin’ in this fancy hotel while she’s layin’ God knows where! She should be here … with me! Not workin’ in no filthy cottonfield or layin’ in some damn rundown shack!”
“Lily.” James rolled her back over to face him, wanting to ensure that she did not begin to shut him out again. “We can find ’er. You’re right. We’ve got the money. I’d do whateva’ I had to to bring the two of ya’ back togetha’ again. It should be easy. I can look through my fatha’s records and find out the address of the plantation he bought you from and…”
“I’d give up every dolla’ I have to see my motha’ sittin’ front row at my show all dressed up, lookin’ just as beautiful as I rememba’ her. That’s what I want, James, trust me I do. But as crazy as it may sound, I’m … I’m afraid.”
“Afraid? Afraid ‘a what?”
“Afraid ‘a the truth,” Lily whispered.
“I don’t unda’stand.”
“Last time I saw my motha’, she was in the middle of a dirt field, layin’ face down, unconscious, afta’ gettin’ beat like nobody’s business. She was fightin’! Fightin’ hard on account ‘a me … Fightin’ to keep me with ’er. To this day, I don’t know if she eva’ woke up afta’ the way my half-brotha’ beat her senseless. And now, I’m afraid to know whetha’ she lived or not. Right now, in my daydreams, she can be whateva’ or whereva’ I want ’er to be. In my mind, she’s alive and well and thinkin’ of me, just as much as I think about her. In my mind, she got up outta that dirt field stronga’ than eva’, determined not to let what happened to us tear her apart. In my mind, she’s happy … she’s alive. And I don’t think I could handle it if I eva’ found out that she lost ’er life that day … ’cause ‘a me. I just couldn’t handle it.”
“Trust me, I know how the sight ‘a somethin’ so gruesome can scar you for life,” James replied, recalling the source of his recurring nightmare. “But I’d put money on the fact that your motha’s alive and well because ‘a how strong you told me she was … mentally and physically. Knowin’ all that, I bet there’s a great chance that she’s somewhere thinkin’ about you every day, maybe even at this very moment. So, don’t you think it’d be worth it to at least try to find ’er?” He turned Lily’s head back toward him when she looked away. “Lily, I’d be here to see you through it all, no matta’ what the outcome. You wouldn’t be alone in this.”
“You’re right, my mama was strong. Every bit ‘a me wants to believe she’s alive too. But as foolish as it sounds, I still can’t help but be so scared of what otha’ things my fatha’ and half-brotha’ may have done to punish her for her defiance that day. I know I’d neva’ be the same again if I found out she wasn’t still here on this Earth … especially not if it was on account ‘a me.”
“Well, just know that if you say the word, I’ll do everything in my powa’ to find your motha’ for you, okay? I swear to it.” James caressed her cheek. “Wheneva’ you’re ready, I’ll be ready.”
Lily slid her hand over his and held it. “Thank you,” she said, kissing him lightly on the lips. “But I s’ppose it doesn’t really matta’ at this point anyway, does it?” she asked, sounding slightly more relaxed after his words and his touch settled her.
“Why not?”
“This is all bound to end.”
“End? What’s bound to end?”
“All this.” She waved her hand in the air. “This fairytale we’re livin’ in.”
“Fairytale?” James sat up, now the one suddenly feeling perturbed. “Lily, this ain’t no fairytale. It’s real. You, me, the show … all of it.”
“I know that. I just meant that yo’ daddy s’pects I’ll be home soon. It’s been nearly a year. Ain’t no way we can carry on like this for much longa’.”
The thought had crossed James’s mind many times, but he was not ready to face it. “Listen to me. I don’t want you worryin’ about such things. You let me carry that burden. I’m gonna do and say whateva’ I need to say or do to keep you away from that damn plantation!” he said with conviction, after the thought of Lily returning there began to anger him.
“Hell, you’d have to tell yo’ daddy I’s dead before he’d allow me to stay away from there one minute more than necessary. Even then, I think he’d drag my dead body back to his farm just to see to it that he has the honor of burnin’ it.”
James took Lily by the arm and helped her to sit up. “Lily, I swear on Auntie’s soul, you’ll neva’ see that farm again.” She looked down at the sheets to avoid his eyes, but he quickly slid his hand underneath her chin and forced her to look at him. “So long as I can help it, you’ll nev
a’ set one foot on that land again. I promise you that, ya’ hear?”
Lily nodded. “I believe you,” she said, a sparkle of joy finally returning to her eyes.
“We got a little while before I need to address anything with my fatha’ anyway. ’Til then, I want you to think about nothin’ but preparin’ for Winta’ Garden and decidin’ what pretty dress you’re gonna wear to that gala tomorrow night,” James said, kissing Lily tenderly on the lips. “And about how much I love you.” He placed both hands on the sides of her face and began kissing her again, but this time with the sort of passion that instantly brought Lily’s optimism back to life and removed every bit of tension from her body.
Lily lay back down and pulled James on top of her without breaking the kiss that had just followed words that set her body ablaze. Needing nothing more of foreplay, she maneuvered her hips to align herself with what she suddenly wanted to feel inside of her. “Show me how much,” she said seductively, reaching down and gliding James into her slick searing flesh. The feeling of him submerged deep inside of her reached all points of her body at once. She arched her back and let out a moan of pure bliss. James inhaled sharply when the erotic tone escaped her. Nothing fulfilled him more than the sound of her satisfaction. With long powerful strokes, he began melting away all of her anxiousness and evaporating her inhibitions. Through the sensual thrust of his hips, he was hell-bent on sending Lily soaring, once again, into the heavenly clouds of freedom, gladly showing her along the way just how much he truly did love her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Slave Code
Article VI Section XI
Any free person convicted of enticing or persuading a slave to run away shall forfeit and pay the full value of such slave to its master or owner.
Riding in the comforts of her new fancy black enclosed carriage, a team of horses pulled Lily and her entourage through the snow-lined streets of Manhattan, on the way to a fundraising gala. As Lily rode along, she gazed with pure fascination at all the towering buildings surrounding her. Manhattan was unlike any other city she had seen; she found it nearly impossible to pull her eyes away from the uniqueness of it all.
Before departing from their hotel, William had instructed the lead driver of the convoy to take a particular route on the way to their destination. When what he wanted to see came into view, William called out to the driver to stop.
“Lily come along. I’d like you to see something,” William told her once the carriage halted. He stepped out of the carriage first and a cold breeze swept his scarf into the air as he helped Lily down. “Look there,” he said, pointing in the air.
Lily’s eyes followed his finger to the words on a towering marquee: The Dream Symphony, Christmas night, 6 pm.
“Winta’ Garden,” Lily said, a slow smile creeping onto her face.
“Winter Garden,” William repeated, gazing at the prestigious building along with her. “Before we carry on to the fundraiser, I believe a brief tour is in order.”
After reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the Marquee that boasted the name of her show, Lily walked into Winter Garden on James’s arm. Her face lit up with a brilliant smile as she took in the sight of a theater that was three times the size of all the others she had performed in. She released James’s arm and slowly turned around, looking up at the three stories of balcony seats that lined the walls. Her eyes then panned up to a ceiling that was meticulously painted like a crystal-clear, star-filled night sky. The beautiful art instantly transported Lily back to her very first performance underneath the night sky on the incredible outdoor amphitheater that James had built her, a place where her dreams had literally started to come to life and set the wheels in motion that had led her to this moment.
They had been to many theaters over their six-month travels, but William never once tired of seeing the expression on Lily’s face whenever she walked through the doors of a new theater. His heart melted a little more as he watched her closely and noted her bright smile, the way her eyes widened, and the innocence she exuded. In William’s estimation, it was all so pure and genuine, like the awestruck look of a child seeing the moon and the stars for the very first time. The innocence and excitement that showed on Lily’s face always brought him back to the youthful part of his life. He had become desensitized to the enchantment of seeing the world since then but watching the way Lily lit up over every new thing reminded him of how grand that sort of life really was and how fortunate he had been.
William had never personally given Lily a tour at any theater before they were due to rehearse, like he was doing now. He always much preferred standing at a distance, following Lily with his eyes, allowing her to quietly absorb her surroundings as she stood on the stage or walked the aisles admiring the décor. But Winter Garden held a special meaning for William on so many levels. So, on this occasion, he felt a personal tour was warranted. After he had guided Lily and James on a tour of the view from the balcony and of the backstage amenities, the three of them stood alone in the middle of the massive stage. “Believe it or not, this theater seats 6,000 people … 6,400 to be exact,” William informed.
The number shocked Lily since it was more than double the capacity of all the previous theaters she had performed in, yet it had sold out the quickest.
After sharing that bit of information, William put his hands in his pockets, turned, and marched forward a few steps to look out into the spread of seats. “The very last time I performed here, though … 6,397 of these seats were empty,” he continued.
Lily looked at William curiously. She was in disbelief that only three people would show up to one of his concerts.
“It happened the second time I ever played here,” William further explained. “I’d played here once before in my career. On that first occasion, this place was completely sold out, and the show went off without a hitch. It was flawless. Every moment of it. But what made my first time playing here so special was that my Emma was there, like she was at so many of my shows. She had seen me play at countless venues before that, and many more after that, but the night I first performed here was unforgettable to her.” He paused a moment. “When she fell ill many years later, everything in her memory was slowly slipping away from her: details of our wedding, birthdays, the little country store she used to own … my name.” William paused to regain control of himself after that fact began to penetrate his emotions. “The names of our sons … even her own. Such vital memories all faded away. But that night she saw me perform here at Winter Garden, on this very stage, in front of that packed audience, was the one performance she never ever forgot. It was as if her experience watching me play here was the only lingering memory that God had allowed her to keep. Even after she was suffering through the worst parts of her illness, for some reason … Winter Garden was literally unforgettable to her.
“‘You were so brilliant last night at Winter Garden! I can’t wait to see you play there again!’ That’s what my Emma would say to me at some point every day when she was ill. And I do mean every. Single. Day. Whenever she uttered those words, there was always a soft enthusiasm in her voice and a lovely smile on her face as she looked at me with life shining briefly in her beautiful eyes. In a matter of a heartbeat, though, her mind would quickly slip away into darkness again, taking my hope for her to get well along with it.
“‘I can’t wait to see you play there again,’ was the very last sentence my wife ever uttered to me … and that seat over there,” William said, pointing to the place he spoke of, “was the place she sat when I brought her back here for a second time to fulfill that wish. I rented this entire venue, and my sons and I traveled with her here. They sat huddled next to their mother as my old orchestra and I replayed every single song from that night she remembered from so many years ago. As sick as Emma was, as lost as she was in the depths of her mind, as disconnected from the world as she always seemed to be, I swear to you, for the ninety minutes I played here, she never once took her eyes off of me.” William g
lanced over to where his wife had once sat. “Nor was I ever once able to take mine off of her. I just couldn’t. For those ninety minutes, m-my Emma w-was back.” His lip began to quiver as he spoke. “Th-that brief flash of a smile, that I looked so forward to seeing when she uttered those words to me every day, was there on her face the entire time my fingers were dancing across that piano. H-her eyes were so full of life again,” he said, his voice cracking. “And mine were full of tears,” he admitted, patting at the ones that now fell with a handkerchief. “To this very day, I still believe it was what she hung on so long for, to relive the one and only memory she had left … just one last time.” William dried his tears and collected himself. “Less than twenty-four hours after we brought her back home … my Emma slipped away.”
Lily struggled to control her emotions as she took hold of William’s hand. Despite feeling the warmth of her soft hand around his, William still could not take his eyes off of the seat where Emma once sat. “I’m sure you already know that your Emma will be sittin’ right there again in spirit watchin’ you on Christmas night.”