get prepared

Aunt Sylvie scowled at Pomp, and then fussed in a violent whisper, Shut your damn mouth, fool! And without missing a beat she looked up at the doorway, acting surprised to see Lizzie standing there. Good morning, Lizzie! the cook sang out for all to hear. Come on in here and get you something to eat. Granada, tend to Lizzies plate. Lizzie stepped into the room, her movements as leaden as her expression. If she had heard Pomps remark about Rubina, she didnt show it. Granada didnt stir a muscle, not able to take her eyes off Lizzie. Whenever talk of Lizzies poor daughter arose, Granada wanted to disappear. Every fine road comes to a stopping place, Aunt Sylvie was always warning Granada. Poor Rubina was greeneyed with soft curly hair and look what happened to her! In Lizzies scowl, Granada could sense the tragic and shifting nature of whims and preferences, and the ground became unsteady beneath her feet. How you doing, Lizzie? Chester asked in his cheeriest voice. Lizzie looked around the table with her good eye, and watched silently as Granada, with a shaky hand, put meat and bread on her plate. Then Lizzie looked up again. I know what yall sayin. Aint no secret to it. Dont let me spoil your fun. Everybody was now frowning at Pomp. The house servants had a soft spot for Rubina, especially after the mistress had exiled the to the swamps when Miss Becky died. Of course Sylvie always said it could have been a lot worse. If she hadnt pleaded with the master, Mistress Amanda would have sold the poor little to one of those houses down in New Orleans just to get her out of the masters reach. White men paid pockets full of gold to be with a young lightskinned like that, Sylvie said. Even though it was common knowledge that the master visited Rubina on occasion in her cabin, Sylvie insisted, At least its just the one. Thanks to me, it aint a new caller every night. It was Chester who broke the tension. With a straight face, he offered, Maybe the master found him a firstrate breeder. One that only hatches tripleyolkers. And she needs all that room to nurse them babies like a queen bee. There was an explosion of laughter, fueled by the relief everyone felt for Chester maneuvering the conversation away from Rubina. Even Old Silas, who hardly ever spoke up when the servants gathered to swap tales, cracked a toothless smile. Seeing her man enjoying himself, Aunt Sylvie decided to push him into talking. What you reckon, Silas? she asked, reminding everybody he was still among the living. What you figure that cabins for? In the old days, before he got in crossways with the mistress, they said Silas was the first to know anything. He received his information mouth to ear from the master. And some said the master got his orders mouth to ear from Silas. Said Silas was the one who laid out the entire plantation, designing the complicated system of levees, dams, drainage ditches, and irrigation canals. Silas was just as dark as Granada, though she had never heard anybody bringing it to his attention. Yeah, what you think, Old Silas? Chester laughed. You think the master going to get him a gal thats been bred from a setting hen? Old Silas looked around the table. His eyes were dark, the whites nearly yellowed. He seemed surprised he had been spoken to. He then nodded slowly and answered, his voice faint and trembling with age and memory, Thats what he needs most, I reckon. Chester and Pomp laughed, probably thinking Silas was making a joke. Old Silas acted like he hadnt heard them and kept talking into his coffee cup. Hes lost many a head over the years to sickness. The yellow fever. The cholera. But he never bought from off the plantation unless things were awfully bad. There was a nodding of heads. They all had stopped smirking and started listening. That blacktongue must be taking out more hands than we know about. Its been as bad as the cholera was, he continued and then gave a half grin. Yep, maybe thats just what he needs now, Chester, a flock of firstrate breeders. Those were some terrible days, Sylvie remembered aloud. We carried those poor souls out by the wagonful. Sure cut down on his breeding stock, Old Silas added. But Master Ben never went off the place to buy. Doesnt believe in it. Doesnt like to buy bad habits. Hes a stubborn man, Sylvie said. She leaned in and spoke just above a whisper, Lost his own daughter because of that bull head of his. I could have told him. â€˜Now you listen to me, Master Ben, it was me who washed and shrouded her body. And dont you reckon I know? The Angel of Death that took Miss Becky was the exact same color as the one what took all the rest of them â€¦ Sylvie let her words trail off. He still aint admitted that the sickness made it past a white mans door. Now its the blacktongue, Old Silas said. Last I counted he got twentyfive hands out at Motts quarter on their backs ready to up and die on him like theyre doing ever place else in the county. Master Ben buried three himself. I hope the master learned his lesson, Aunt Sylvie said, and then closed her eyes. Please, God, dont let it travel here to us. â€˜Death he is a little man, he go from door to door â€¦ Chester, rarely serious, now seemed dispirited. Dont know what hes going to do with them thats already down with it. I know he aint going to ask me to fetch that Dr. Barbour. Calls him the killing doctor. I suspect hes right. I heard of one gal so scared of that man and his purgatives she let her baby die from the measles instead of turning the over to that white doctor. Thats sure what they call him. The killing doctor with his black bottle of medicine. Same all over, Pomp grumbled. Everybody saying its best to let it roll with God than tell your miseries to any white doctor. Puke and purge is all they know. Treat you like a field mule. Old Silas is right, it must be going to get a lot worse if the master is buying off the place. That what he needs all right, Silas said again, a flock of powerful breeders. Chester rose from the table and looked down upon the morose group. He laughed darkly. I guess Old Silas answered my riddle. Master bought him some gal with hips as broad as an oxen yoke. A gal so fertile, the master t never have to buy off of the plantation again. He slapped his hands together at the thought. Itll sure be a sight. Im going to be right there in the yard watching when they tote in that gold goose and set her down on her nest.

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CHAPTER 9 Aunt Sylvie hurried from the smokehouse, gripping a leg of mutton like an ax. She called out to Granada, Master Ben going to be here most any minute, and he got that miracle slave with him! I seen the dust rising up along the levee. Bound to be them.

Granada was at that moment shooting marbles with Little Lord under the live oak. She was as curious as anybody to see what this slave from up the country looked like. It had been all anyone had talked about for weeks. But she wasnt curious enough to lose her precious marbles to the masters . The blondheaded cheater was at that moment positioning himself for his next shot. As she passed under the tree, Sylvie fussed at Granada. I told you to get that cleaned off! Master come home to Little Lord looking pigdirty and youll be the one to catch the feathers for sure. Granada still didnt answer. Sylvie huffed and then continued her lope toward the kitchen, calling out over her shoulder, I aint got time to fool with you, gal. Dont blame me when you get the strap. That particular threat carried no weight with Granada. The mistress wouldnt allow Master Ben to harm her. Granada kept both eyes glued to the redclay marble in Little Lords tight fist, watching him knuckle down for his shot. He was the worst marblecheater in the world, and she could tell right then from the way his alabaster cheeks had reddened, his mind was clearly on just that. Look! Little Lord shouted. The bull got loose! Granada swung her gaze toward the barn, and as soon as she did, Little Lord reached over and dropped his marble into the duck hole instead of knuckleshooting it like he was supposed to. But he had not been fast enough. Granada whacked the upside the head with the flat of her hand. His face clouded and then he took off running for the great house, threatening to tell his mother. Granada was quick on his heels. Master Little Lord, you better not tell on me or Ill yank a knot in your noggin for sure! She meant it. Granada knew she wasnt supposed to be nasty to the , but sometimes she didnt know what got into her. When he acted so full of the devil, she couldnt resist being mean. It did her spirits good to take a whack at him every once in a while. And sometimes that yellowheaded, blueeyed was just too pretty for his own good. Little Lord had made it up the stairs and onto the gallery when he stopped dead in his tracks. Daddys home! he shouted, and then ran to the railing, pointing off in the distance. And hes got the bought slave with him! This time he wasnt fooling. Granada looked in the direction the was pointing and saw a storm of dust rising off the Delphi road. The master was riding out ahead of the roiling cloud on his black horse. Granada sucked in her breath at the sight. She loved to see the master ride, switching his whip, making that bigblooded stallion fly, its muscles sleek and sweaty and pulsing, all shiny and beautiful and sassy. She dered how the master managed to keep his seat with a horse so fast its hooves were nothing but a blur of motion and dust. Coming up close behind was a speeding wagon, driven by what she first took to be an old woman because of the two long black plaits of hair dangling from beneath a beatup felt hat. Then Granada secondguessed herself. It couldnt be a woman. The driver handled the fourmule wagon like a man, spitting tobacco off the side of the wheels and popping the reins sharply. A Choctaw Indian maybe! Little Lord took off down the steps and Granada took off after him. At the foot of the stairs Granada came to a stop, but Little Lord continued to race toward the galloping horse. Master Ben grasped the under the arm and hoisted him up into the saddle. From his perch between his father and the pommel, Little Lord found Granadas eyes and then stuck his tongue out at her. They both exploded into fits of giggles. A spirit of hilarity hung over the entire plantation. For days servants had been in a state of high anticipation. Like Granada, the younger ones had never seen a bought Negro before, and the older ones thought they might never see one again, especially one from as far away as the Carolinas.