Chapter Six
By Thursday Cassius worked alone in the clearing, building a roof over the hog's shed. Groomsmen, brought up from the barns to tend sheep and cows, idled on the far side of the meadow in shade as the livestock shifted and grazed in the sun. Cassius had been sorry to see Joseph return to the fields.
He noticed a crossbar on the fence that hung lower than the others, and he felt with his hand and knew that one of his crew had driven nails that had missed the vertical stake. The wood was held in place by one nail. Cassius propped the crossbar with a piece of scrap wood, dropped to his knees, and rolled himself carefully over onto his back, gently and slowly sliding over the grass under the bar, nails in his mouth, hammer in his hand. He babied his back into position and drove nails in. Points of grass stuck into him through his shirt, pricked his neck and the back of his head, and the rough underside of wide grass blades scraped the soft skin behind his ears. He came carefully out from under the fence to discover someone standing over him. Cassius rose quickly to his feet, hammer in his fist, without concern for his back which chafed hard against his shirt.
Hoke Howard ran his hand along the wood of the fence.
"Fine work, Cassius."
Thank you, Master Hoke, said Cassius.
"Truly, quite fine," said Hoke. "I have always admired your attention to detail. Even in something as hard-cast and utilitarian as a fence."
It's nearly done, said Cassius.
"Yes yes, there is no rush, Cassius, get it right, that is fine with me, of course, fine with me."
Cassius looked at him warily, letting his grip on the hammer lessen. Concerned that he might drop it, he set it on the fence's crossbar. In the sunlight, he saw that Hoke Howard's left eye was milky with a cataract, that the skin under his eyes was soft and spongy and crisscrossed by telling lines. He considered Hoke's expression and thought he detected sadness, even a longing.
"Quite the spot, is it not? Lovely."
Cassius looked around and nodded.
"I should come here more often. I should visit all my lands. I imagine I might find many such places. Peaceful, yes. Francis Jarvis's son-in-law would have a miserable time finding it, but I would gamble that he does not know to look for it. And I never bet more than I can afford to lose." He paused, taking in the sprawl of his land, his chest full of the pride of ownership. "Peaceful. Perhaps that is what I will do, take a few hours in the mornings away from the shackles of business and wander, appreciate my lands. Perhaps one day you will join me."
Whatever you say, Master Hoke, said Cassius.
Hoke lost his smile and seemed almost disappointed. "We were friends once, were we not, Cassius?"
Yes sir, said Cassius.
"Growing up, you were such a friendly boy. How I did enjoy your company."
The same, sir, said Cassius.
"We all grow up, I suppose."
Cassius heard the wistful note in Hoke's voice and knew, for the second time in little more than a week, that an opening was granted to him.
A question, said Cassius. This is the moment, he thought, take it now. He searched for his best subservient voice, but was unable to conjure it as scrupulously as he would have liked.
"Certainly, anything, my boy," said Hoke.
Your son, Master John-Corey. You miss him?
"I do, I miss my son terribly. God help me, I miss both of my sons, although with any amount of luck, Jacob will return to us," said Hoke. "Would that my legacy will return."
But Master John-Corey, he's your oldest.
"Yes, John-Corey was my oldest."
You taught him your wisdom?
"Well," laughed Hoke, "I did what I could."
But then you trusted him, after?
Hoke gazed off, down the meadow to the darkness of the forest.
"He was such an impulsive child growing up, but I am certain you remember that as well. Such a scamp. Perhaps that is why it took me years to recognize the competent businessman he had become. I gather that means I proved that you can teach an old dog new tricks, did I not? I refer to myself," he said with a smile. "Yes, when all is said and done, I have to conclude that my son grew to be a circumspect and considerate man. I was uncertain about his choice of spouse, but Stephanie was devoted to him, I certainly could never fault her for that. There were times, I must say, when I was concerned that she reflected John-Corey's true feelings about me, but away with that, that is but a fool's errand, to attempt to deduce the motives and secret hearts of our children." He stopped for a moment, as if contemplating the meaning of his words. "I invited her to Sweetsmoke after his death, but she preferred to return to her own parents in Lynchburg."
So Master John-Corey made good choices?
"Yes," he said hesitantly. "Yes. I look back on the things about which we clashed and realize he may well have had prudent reasons for making his decisions. I still may disagree, but in the all, yes, John-Corey made good choices."
Cassius nodded as if something had been made clear to him.
"This line of questioning is curious, Cassius. What brings it on?"
Nothing, Master Hoke; like you said, curious.
"I think not. You have something particular on your mind."
Well, sir, I remember a story about his personal servant coming all the way home after Master John-Corey died in that battle.
"Lewis, yes, returned from Manassas. I believe he was two weeks on the road."
He was a good one, doing that for the family.
"Yes, he was. Pity about him being sold."
And Master John-Corey had that thing in his will, about keeping two other people together.
"Beauregard and Quashee I believe are their names."
You think that was Master John-Corey making good choices?
"I am not certain I follow you."
Well, sir, Master Hoke, if you think Master John-Corey was a smart man, then maybe one of his smart decisions was for his people to come to Sweetsmoke. If Master John-Corey thought they were good at his place, maybe he thought they would be good in his father's place.
"Interesting thought, Cassius, one I had not considered. We do have fine people of our own, of course."
We sure do, Master Hoke, I didn't mean to take nothing from our family. Just thinking aloud, about that Beauregard.
"What about Beauregard?"
Well, sir, Master Hoke, William, he's off with Master Jacob and he was a fine butler, we all know that, but since then it's Pet answering the door.
"Yes, I suppose it would be nice to have a butler again. But my wife is uncomfortable with John-Corey's people."
Guess I understand that all right.
Cassius let that sit for a moment, and then he said:
But one thing.
"Something else?"
Maybe Missus Ellen don't know it'd be an honor to her son's memory to have his people there. I mean, the girl Quashee seems refined, and Missus Sarah needs a servant, near as I can tell.
Hoke considered Cassius with a half smile, and for a moment Cassius thought he had overplayed his hand.
"You speak very well, Cassius, which I take as a compliment to me, as you grew up under my tutelage." He looked away again and said, "Send Beauregard and Quashee up to the house this evening just after sunset. I will see them myself and perhaps I can coax Ellen to take part." Hoke nodded at Cassius, and again Cassius wondered if his smile was patronizing. It mattered little, as Cassius had accomplished his task.
Cassius returned to the quarters early and watched Big Gus lead the hands back down the lane. Big Gus appeared unusually sunny, but Cassius afforded it no significance. He watched for Beauregard and Quashee, and they were with the stragglers, filthy and exhausted. Cassius urged them to find their best clothes so they could be presented at the big house. Quashee came suddenly awake, anxious because her one good dress had been soaking to remove a stain. She could not meet the masters in a wet dress. Others pulled out their best clothing, but every appropriate dress offered was too large.
Cassius overheard whispering women, one of whom suggested that if Quashee went to the big house, the bad luck would follow and the quarters would return to normal.
Cassius saw Joseph bringing up the rear, the last worker out of the fields. Joseph was known to hurry back to his cabin, relishing his evenings and his free time after chores, but tonight he walked with arms crossed, hands tucked beneath his armpits. Cassius understood immediately; Big Gus had fabricated infractions against Joseph and slapped his cane across the young man's outstretched palms. Joseph went directly into Abram and Savilla's cabin and did not return to the lane.
Cassius watched Quashee's anxiety grow with the presentation of each unwearable dress and imagined that she feared offending the planters as she had no time to bathe. Savilla pulled her from cabin to cabin, but no suitable dress was found. Quashee was finally resigned to her work dress and brushed the filth away as best she could. It was then that Tempie Easter approached.
Come with me, girl, said Tempie, leading Quashee to her cabin. Missus likes her house folk to be pretty and presentable.
Cassius was wary of Tempie's offer, but Quashee was frankly delighted. When a person in desperate straits is offered help, he thought, relief can overwhelm good sense. He probed it from every angle, as he did not see how Tempie would benefit from helping Quashee. He could find nothing but charity in her actions, and warily decided that Tempie understood she was not likely to join the big house staff herself and had decided not to spoil another girl's opportunity. Nevertheless, his skepticism persisted and he remained outside the cabin that Tempie shared with two other unmarried female hands. He heard Quashee's girlish squeals of pleasure from within, a sound so infectious that it brought a smile to his face. Moments later, Quashee emerged adorned in one of Tempie's dresses. Tempie was larger than Quashee, but not as large as most of the women of the quarters, and this dress was suitable. Where it was tight and suggestive on Tempie, it had a loose easy quality across Quashee's shoulders and torso, cinched at the waist with a belt where the skirt billowed out and flowed gracefully to the ground. Discreet bows and pockets in the folds completed the look. Cassius's trepidation eased when he saw the relief on Quashee's face.
Oh, Tempie, you are a lifesaver, said Quashee, leaning to hug her.
No reason one of us shouldn't get to the big house, said Tempie.
You look fine, said Cassius.
It's the right thing, said Tempie. You know if you seen Pet that she wears dresses just like this one. Maybe not so pretty.
Cassius noticed that Tempie wore a dress that was strikingly similar, also cinched at the waist with a billow that dropped gracefully to the ground, also with pockets and bows. If Tempie would wear that dress, then she was not setting up Quashee to look the fool.
Beauregard joined them, erect and elegant in a clean white shirt and dark pants he had brought from Master John-Corey's plantation. The two of them side by side looked out of place in the quarters.
Come, daughter. We should be on our way, said Beauregard. He nodded to Cassius, acknowledging the debt he owed the carpenter for this opportunity. He offered his elbow, she took it and they walked in tandem.
Tempie watched Quashee start up the lane with the back of the dress dragging.
That dress is long in back. I best come along, hold it out the dirt, least till they give you the job, said Tempie, taking a handful of fabric and lifting it to clear the ground. Quashee twisted awkwardly to see Tempie walking behind her as if carrying her train.
Oh, Tempie, I can't tell you how much I thank you, said Quashee.
Cassius watched them go, feeling satisfied, but his skeptical mind drove a spike into his pleasure and he decided to follow. He stayed a few steps behind Tempie and Quashee, and again took note of Tempie's dress, a near twin to Quashee's, with cinch, billow, and pockets.
Beauregard, Quashee, Tempie, and Cassius followed the path in the dark, passing the Overseer's place and approaching the big house from the rear, walking more quickly as the lights inside the big house guided them around to the front yard where young Master Charles and other white children were tended by Nanny Catherine. Hoke Howard and his wife, Ellen, sat on the front porch, admiring their grandchildren. Hoke saw the hands and came to his feet, opening his arms to extend a welcome. He smiled in surprise to see Cassius. Cassius nodded, but hung back so that Beauregard and Quashee could properly introduce themselves. Ellen stood but wore an artificial smile. Mam Rosie heard the fuss from her kitchen and came out wiping her hands down her apron. Pet appeared framed in the front door behind them, and when she saw the group, she rushed past and down to Quashee and, with her left hand, turned her around to admire the dress. Then Pet seemed to catch herself and turned and bowed her head to Ellen in apology.
Sorry, Missus, said Pet. It just she lookin so pretty.
Cassius had been watching Ellen for her reaction to John- Corey's people, but Pet's flurry alerted him. Pet had turned Quashee so that she stood sideways from the planters on the porch, with Tempie now behind her. The locations of the lanterns caused a shadow to fall across the backside of Quashee's dress and Cassius could not see Pet's hands. Pet curtsied to her mistress and took a step back to stand beside Tempie. Cassius then saw Pet exchange a glance with Tempie. Cassius alone saw Tempie's quick, impulsive smile, gone before it registered.
A frisson of fear flowed through him as every hair on his arms and the back of his neck set off a shriek of warning. He dug down to engage the lessons of stealth he had mastered so that he could survive as a slave, and he walked carelessly toward the group.
Master Hoke, said Cassius in a strong voice, taking charge before anyone else had an opportunity to speak, I think you know Beauregard here, he was Master John-Corey's butler over in Lynchburg.
Beauregard stood taller and nodded to Cassius in uncertain appreciation. Cassius nodded back.
That is true, Master Hoke, I carried the keys, said Beauregard.
"From everything I have heard, you did a fine job, Beauregard, a fine job," said Hoke.
Cassius moved around Beauregard, behind Quashee. Tempie and Pet were up to something and Cassius needed to buy time so that he might understand what it was.
This here, said Cassius, is our dear Quashee.
"Yes," said Hoke, "you also come with a fine reputation. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."
Cassius glanced down at the back of her dress, now removed from shadow. He saw a flash of shiny green, a small corner not completely hidden in a deep pocket and he understood. From that moment on he knew his timing was everything, he would need to be very good and very quick or all would be lost.
Quashee has been working in the fields, but as you can see, her delicacy is better suited to the big house, said Cassius. He was not fully aware of what he was saying.
He placed his hands on Quashee's shoulder and then let them move down her sides to her skirt, where he appeared to brush dust off the fabric that ballooned out from her waist. In doing this he was able to angle her into shadow. Quashee looked awkwardly over her shoulder at Cassius as if she did not recognize him.
He pressed his leg against her thigh, moving her off-balance, and as she stepped forward gracelessly, he pretended also to stumble and utilized the shadow to slip his hand down into the pocket to secretly grab the small green box. He knew it by touch, the snuff box with the brown inlays that his fingers had formed for Hoke Howard years before. He brought the box up under his shirt as he spoke.
Beg your pardon, miss, clumsy me, said Cassius, then turned back and said rapidly to the planters: Quashee would be a fine personal servant for poor Missus Sarah.
Master Hoke, said Beauregard, breaking in as if he might save Cassius from further humiliation, I hope you will consider us worthy to work in your home, sir.
Cassius nodded, playing the fool, hastily taking steps backward, and others glanced away from his embarrassment. He stepped at an angle and brushed by Tempie Easter. At that moment he understood why Tempie Easter had worn that dress: If Tempie exposed Quashee as a thief, then she might be considered for the position of personal servant to Missus Sarah. Thus dressed for her interview, she could walk directly into the big house and never look back. Cassius slipped the small green snuff box into the side pocket of Tempie's dress and was satisfied she did not feel it.
"I think we may conduct our interview out here as well as anywhere," said Hoke smiling, and he turned to include Ellen. She nodded curtly.
That would be fine, sir, anyplace that the Master deems appropriate, said Beauregard.
"He does speak well, would you not say so, Mrs. Howard?" Hoke said to Ellen, but everyone understood that he was working too hard.
"Yes," Ellen said icily, "our home will be filled once more with the sophisticated tete-a-tete of a butler."
Hoke moved to Ellen's side and spoke with her quietly, leaving everyone standing in the yard at attention.
Cassius shambled over to where young Master Charles watched the proceedings with bored detachment. Cassius's heart pounded loudly in his chest. This was his last trick, and he was counting on Master Charles's dislike of him. Master Charles looked at Cassius as if he was a roach and Cassius sat directly beside the young master, nodding, smiling.
Hoke took a step away from Ellen, who looked off to the side. His smile returned and he addressed his family:
"When you worked for my son, Beauregard, what were your duties?" said Hoke.
Cassius leaned in close to young Master Charles and said: Tempie got herself a plan, but I know the truth.
Charles looked at him, wrinkling his nose.
Beauregard spoke of his duties at Master John-Corey's Lynchburg plantation: I was of course the first one awake, Master Hoke, my position to make sure the house was prepared to welcome Master John-Corey and Missus Stephanie from their uninterrupted sleep, I made sure they never had to give the slightest thought to anything, their bath was-
Tempie Easter suddenly interrupted him: I got somethin to say, Master Hoke, I didn't want to but I got to, this goin on too long. You can't trust 'em, Master Hoke.
"I'm sorry, Tempie, what are you—?" Hoke said.
You can't trust 'em and I got proof, said Tempie.
You see that? said Cassius into Charles's ear. Now it's starting.
I know these two, they are trouble, said Tempie. That girl, she been comin at night, stealin from the big house.
Quashee's eyes opened wide and she looked around her in terror.
I never stole, said Quashee. I never even come near the big house.
Oh yes she do, said Tempie, she come to the big house at night and take things.
Tempie's blaming the new girl, but Quashee ain't got it, said Cassius quietly. Then she's goin come and blame you, Master Charles. But I know it wasn't you.
"What d'you mean you know it warn't me?" said Charles.
You just look in her dress, look right in there, said Tempie. Right in that pocket you find one of your beautiful boxes, Master Hoke.
Quashee looked down at the dress with her arms up in the air, as if she was afraid to discover that Tempie told the truth.
Hoke came down the stairs and put his hand in a pocket of Quashee's dress. When he found nothing, he checked each pocket and then patted around the entire billow of the dress. "What are you on about, Tempie?"
It was there, I swear, she must'a hid it somewhere, said Tempie.
I know it wasn't you, said Cassius. You never took no box. She just muddying the waters so she can get away with it.
"I didn't do it, who said I did?" said Charles.
Nobody said nothing yet, Master Charles, but I heard Miss Tempie say she was planning to point at you. Could be I was mistaken, said Cassius.
Charles stood up and pointed at Tempie. "She's the one, Grandma Ellen, she tryin to get me in trouble. I ain't got no box, Grandma Ellen, not me."
Hoke looked from Charles back to Tempie. He saw the fear in Tempie's eyes, and his demeanor changed. He took a step toward Tempie, who backed up, feeling her own trap close in around her. She patted her dress and felt the box where Cassius had dropped it. Her hands came up directly to her mouth and her eyes closed.
Hoke patted down Tempie's dress and found the small green box.
Tempie opened her eyes and stared directly at Cassius. Her eyes blazed into him with a mixture of hatred and something that resembled admiration for one who had outmaneuvered her. Hoke noticed her eyes and saw the look and turned to see where she aimed her venom. He gave Cassius a full look, sitting alone next to where Charles had been before he exposed the thief.
Cassius was surprised at Hoke's expression, as Hoke's eyes met his own. Out of self-preservation, he had learned to read Hoke's countenance, and he read him now. Hoke knew. Hoke wouldn't know all the details, and he would understand that when it came to his people, with their uncommunicative and sullen self-protective manner, he would never learn the whole story, but Hoke Howard knew enough to understand that while Tempie was surely at fault, she was not the lone culprit.
Cassius saw Hoke make mental plans to punish him.
"Your first order of business as my butler, Beauregard, is to help me take Tempie into the tobacco shed, where she will remain until I decide what to do with a thief."
Yes sir, said Beauregard sadly, as his first order of business was distasteful.
"You come along as well, Cassius."
Quashee turned in a circle in Tempie's dress, uncertain as to what was to happen. Her father had been graced with a big house position, but she did not know if she was to be similarly rewarded or soiled by Tempie's plot.
"You gonna whip her, Gran'daddy?" said young Master Charles, eagerly following the men and Tempie.
"You stay with your Grandma Ellen, Charles," said Hoke.
Ellen came down off the porch and took Quashee's arm. "You come inside with me, Pet will get you started."
Pet stared at Quashee with loathing. Mam Rosie walked over to Pet and took hold of her ear, gripping it hard and twisting it.
Ow! said Pet. Quit that, Mam Rosie! Ow ow ow!
Mam Rosie yanked the ear in the direction of the big house and let go, and Pet raced to the steps of the porch and hurried inside ahead of Ellen and Quashee.
Beauregard held Tempie Easter's arm, gently guiding her to the tobacco shed with Hoke and Cassius following. Inside the shed, she was chained with the same bracelets to the same ring bolt in the same position Cassius had known for three days five years before. You want me to fetch the whip, Master Hoke? said Beauregard very softly.
Cassius imagined Beauregard's mixed feelings. His new job was to anticipate the Master's every whim, and so he would know to offer the bullwhip. But no black man wanted any part in the violent correction of a family member. Nevertheless, Beauregard understood that this woman had tried to destroy his daughter, and would have destroyed him.
"No, Beauregard. She is not worth as much with stripes."
Cassius saw the sag in Hoke's shoulders as he made a decision that concerned his property.
Cassius followed Hoke out of the barn.
"Beauregard, you go on up to the house, have Pet show you the ways. Cassius?"
Cassius stayed behind with Hoke.
"The trader is in town. He is here with a landowner from Louisiana, a cotton and rice man. Even with the embargo, they bring in a crop so they are buying people. I had said we had no one for him." Hoke sighed. "Cotton boys need people, we oblige with our runaways and troublemakers." Hoke looked at Cassius, emphasizing the word "troublemakers." "Tomorrow I will go to town to see this man and take that girl." Old Hoke looked at the green snuff box in his hand. Finally he said, "You will drive me."
Cassius nodded and watched Hoke walk back to the big house. Cassius understood that Hoke had likely not made up his mind whether he was to sell two of his people, or only one.
Cassius held the reins of the carriage, Hoke beside him as Sam pulled them down to the main road. Tempie Easter sat up straight in the black cushioned rear seat of the planter's fancy vehicle, hands shackled in her lap. A gunnysack was wedged under the seat beneath her knees. Cassius did not know who had packed it and stowed it there, but assumed it contained her fancy clothes. He thought the idea that she might be allowed to keep her things was optimistic. Tempie said nothing and made eye contact with no one. Her eyes were dry and her face was calm. Hoke occasionally looked at Cassius pensively, as a teacher might ponder whether a student was absorbing a lesson.
Sam brought them under the chateau gate, then left onto the main road, drawing the carriage wheels into the ruts. After a few minutes, they rode past a tobacco field and Cassius saw the hands collecting hornworms. One by one they stopped and stood up to watch the carriage carrying Tempie roll by. Cassius saw Big Gus straighten but after a moment, Big Gus saw Joseph come up as well. Cassius watched Big Gus move, raising his cane while still five or six strides away. Cassius wanted to warn Joseph, but he could only watch as Big Gus connected with the back of Joseph's thighs. Joseph went to the ground, out of sight. The hands nearest Joseph looked in his direction, then returned to work. The hands who had not witnessed Big Gus's assault watched the carriage roll out of sight.
In town, Cassius guided Sam to the livery. Hoke got down and walked into the barn while Cassius remained in the seat. He turned fully around to look at Tempie, but she did not look back at him. He had no words for her. She would have put Quashee in just this position, but during the entire ride, his heart had dragged behind them in the dust of the road.
He did not remember a time when the livery had not been there. The front faced south in the full sun, and the whitewash paint cracked and crumbled in scaly patches exposing silver wood beneath. Sunlight leaned in through the open double doors and straw dust glowed against the interior gloom. At the far end, a bright rectangle stood out, the door to the auction tent. Hoke's silhouette momentarily filled the rectangle and was followed by the silhouettes of two men, all of them coming this way. Hoke stopped in the entrance and two white men came out in the sun to take Tempie down. Standing on either side, they compelled her into the livery. Hoke stared at the empty back of the carriage, then looked at Cassius and nodded that he come along. A groomsman took Sam's bridle and led the rig away as Cassius followed Hoke.
Hoke and Cassius entered the gloom of the livery and Cassius smelled dry hay and wet horse, animal feces, leather, and man sweat.
He walked a few steps behind Hoke, who did not look back. Beams sliced through unevenly butted staves and yellow blades of sun cut across them in the dark. They approached the far door where the two men had taken Tempie. Cassius and Hoke stepped through into a tented outdoor space. A small wooden platform dominated, in front of a collection of chairs. A triangle of sun rested on the far side of the white tent and gave the auction area a perversely warm and welcoming light. Outside Cassius heard the shrilling of grasshoppers.
Hoke looked at Cassius and his eyes were burdened with the helplessness of a terrible knowledge. In dismay, Cassius felt Hoke's empathy enfold him and finally understood his punishment. He did not intend to sell Cassius. Cassius was to witness the results of his actions, actions that had brought Tempie to this place, and thus be forced to confront his conscience. The bleached muslin of the tent, warmly lit and close, embraced a history of anguish and grief and apprehension, the last place so many, God, so many people, would ever see their sons and daughters, their mothers and fathers and grandparents, their sisters and brothers and playmates before they were sold, and as the side of the tent bowed and shuddered in a soft breeze, Cassius heard a collective moan.
"This is my man Cassius," Hoke said to a small man. "Cassius, say hello to Lucas Force."
Cassius had heard the name, the traveling slave trader, a name that ran cold through the veins of any black man or woman. Lucas Force was the man who had taken the baby boy five years ago in the cold. He was short with wiry black hair, narrow arms and legs, with tiny feet and hands and a protruding, overindulgent stomach. Cassius had a sudden desire to puncture the man's belly with a sharp object, as if he could expulse beer gas and reduce his middle to normal size. Lucas Force blinked twice as often as other men, thus drawing attention to his thick eyebrows and long black eyelashes. Cassius saw that his hands were pale and delicate and his nails were clean and perfect. Lucas Force's eyes ran up and down Cassius, but as he would not get his hands on him, he looked away.
"Mr. Howard, meet Mr. Plume of Louisiana. Mr. Plume and I have had a successful journey and have already sent two coffles south to his plantation. Cotton and rice is your game, is it not, Mr. Plume?"
Mr. Plume did not bother to rise from the chair on which he was perched. He continued to lean forward on his cane even while sitting, and in Cassius's eyes he appeared to be the most confident man he had ever seen. Soft brown curls rolled out from under his hat, his eyes were sleepy and his expression was preternaturally calm. His chin was smooth as if his beard hairs dared not compel the man to shave. His suit was the subtlest shade of gray, and when he finally chose to stand, Cassius saw that he was not much taller than Lucas Force, while seeming to overwhelm the tent.
"My dear Mr. Howard, how delighted I am to make your acquaintance," said Mr. Plume, and his slight drawl and soft voice seemed to emerge from a core of iron. "When I heard that you had a young woman for sale, I told Mr. Force here that we were obliged to delay our return as I am acquainted with your reputation for knowledge of the flesh. I take it your man Cassius is not to be made available?"
"No," said Hoke.
"Not yet, then," said Mr. Plume, and smiled as his eyes cut into Cassius. Cassius was startled to know that Mr. Plume saw through him, read his mind, and knew more completely what Cassius had done, had thought, and was planning to do than Cassius knew himself. If Mr. Plume was ever to become Cassius's owner, Cassius would never again have the opportunity to consider independent action. He would be driven night and day and if he exhibited reticent behavior, this Mr. Plume would reach down inside Cassius with a sharp-edged spoon and scrape out of him any small dreams of freedom that he might have accrued. He was relieved when Mr. Plume looked away, but felt a raw sensation inside his chest that lingered.
During this time, Tempie Easter had been held by the two large men standing on either side of her. Mr. Plume turned to her, leaning on his cane.
"Remove the shackles, if you would, Mr. Force," said Mr. Plume.
Lucas Force rushed to Hoke, who handed him the keys, and then hurried to Tempie, smoothly unshackling her hands, which she let fall to her sides.
Mr. Plume stepped in front of Tempie. Using the gentlest touch of his cane, he compelled her right hand up in the air, shifting his cane just so in order to adjust Tempie's hands, first exhibiting her palm, then the back of her hand and her nails. He did the same with her left hand. He raised the tip of his cane to touch her cheek and she opened her mouth. He examined her teeth, again giving the slightest pressure to the cane so that she turned to the left, then the right, then tilted her head forward and back so he could see her molars, her tongue, and the roof of her mouth.
He nodded and lowered the cane, took a step back and said, "All right." The two men reached for the shoulders of her dress with fingers the color and thickness of bread dough, but she brought her own hands to the buttons at her throat and undid them one at a time. The two men stepped back and Mr. Plume inclined his head, his sleepy eyes looking that much more lethargic as he watched the slow reveal of her flesh. She finished unbuttoning and with her eyes looking straight ahead she shrugged her shoulders out of the fabric and let the dress fall to the floor, so that she stood naked before him. Cassius knew better than to look away as that would incite Hoke's anger. The two men backed up a step further and Mr. Plume walked around her, carefully inspecting her legs and buttocks, her back and thighs.
"No stripes," he said approvingly. "Very good."
He came back to her front. She continued staring directly ahead. He ran the back of his hand around the underside of her breast and watched her nipple respond. He nodded, wedged his cane under his left armpit, and placed his free right hand between her thighs, guiding his finger up into her vagina. He held it there a moment, then removed his hand and brought his finger to his nose. He stood still for a moment as he smelled her, then turned to Lucas Force.
"Very well, Mr. Force, I will take her." He indicated Tempie's dress that lay on the floor surrounding her feet. "That dress will not do, get rid of it. I believe we have something of sackcloth in the wagon." He addressed her directly for the first time. "You are a Plume now, so remember your name."
As the white men completed their transaction, one of the two large men brought a sackcloth dress for Tempie. Tempie looked at Cassius with flat emotionless eyes, and she held his gaze for a long time. Cassius realized that the sale of Tempie was more real to him than his own life, as he had come to expect misery and degradation and horror. A moment later the man took her arm and forced her out the back of the tent to the wagon.
Cassius followed Hoke through the dark livery to the carriage which waited for them in front. Cassius saw that the gunnysack with Tempie's fancy clothes remained in back. Just before climbing aboard, Hoke turned and Cassius saw his stone-cold face, and Cassius knew that Hoke blamed him for what he had been forced to do to Tempie Easter. As Hoke pulled himself up, Cassius heard the clink of coins in the money purse in Hoke Howard's waistcoat pocket, coins he had not had on the trip into town.
Cassius spoke to no one in the quarters, collecting gear as if he was intent on visiting his traps. He was aware of some sort of uproar, but he paid no attention to it, as he was imprisoned by the uproar in his mind. He took the three loose pages that had been hidden within the leaves of The Iliad. He left quickly, avoiding contact with the hands as he assumed the uproar concerned Tempie. In his rush, he left behind the pass he had forged for the occasion. It was the night of the full moon.
He hid his hunting gear in deep woods and changed direction, finding his way through heavy brush, helped by the climbing moon, reaching the main road and walking quickly. He watched the sky as a weather front moved in rapidly, stars consumed by the unnaturally straight line of approaching clouds. When the clouds covered the moon, he lit his lantern and baffled the light down to a narrow shaft, to pick out the road before him. He was just beyond the halfway point, near the little bridge, when the rain came and he pulled his hat down low and continued to trudge as the bottom of the ruts grew slick and muddy.
The rain was his ally, driving idlers indoors, and when he reached Emoline's house he did not think he had been seen. He stopped at the fence that surrounded her yard and looked to see the hole in her garden where he had hidden the money. Richard Justice had not bothered to refill the hole, so it collected rain, but not enough to keep the nearby remedy herbs from being swamped. He noticed the other obvious hole in her garden, where an entire area of herbs had been pulled out. He wondered who else other than Richard Justice had come to scavenge, then remembered that he had seen that hole the night he met Maryanne. Seeing Emoline's garden untended brought a wrench of sadness to his chest, a sentimental wounding so profound that he was taken by surprise. He now projected his own anxieties about abandonment onto the rows of growing herbs. She would not be there to harvest them, she would not grind them in a mortar or mix them in a broth or consume them or share them, they would be gradually overrun with weeds and left to shrivel and fade in the fall. He had spent his life resisting such contemptible sentimentality, but tonight his loss struck primal emotions remembered from childhood and he stood bereft under a pitiless rain knowing that Emoline was gone. She had taken his hand and acted as guide through his grief and she was gone. And then he remembered silent Tempie, and knew it was his part in her fate that had brought him to this moment of pain.
He went indoors tracking mud. He had rushed to town fearing he would arrive too late to meet Emoline's contact and now he was relieved, because he was certain that he had either missed him or that her contact had never intended to be here. Cassius would utilize this time to mourn her and quit this pointless, foolish impulse to expose her killer and exact justice. The broken household items were gone, along with the pots and bottles and remedies; the floor swept, the house tidied. Richard Justice had done more than Cassius had expected. Cassius opened drawers for something dry and found a tablecloth. He used it on the floor, and then on himself. He was soaked and uncomfortable, but the room was warm and close and he did not shiver. After a while, he blew out the lantern and sat quietly in the dark, reflecting.
He considered the events of the past few days. He acknowledged a change in himself: He had experienced fear again, as unwelcome as it was unexpected. After Marriah, fear had abandoned him and he had grown stubborn and bold, at peace with the prospect of his own death. He considered the risks he had run in the five years past and compared them to the last few days. Choosing to hunt for Emoline's killer had given him purpose. He had protected Quashee, Joseph, and Beauregard, but he was uncomfortable in the role of avenging angel, despite his dislike of Big Gus and the tyranny of white planters and patrollers. He drifted off the subject, relieved that Quashee was now in the big house, away from Big Gus. He liked the idea that he would rarely see her. He had helped her, and now that it was done, he could bury his righteous urge, eradicate his fear, and return to the cold heart that provided him comfort.
He heard a noise outside. At first he thought it a trick of the rain, but it came again and he identified it as the sound of heavy fabric being shaken out. Any number of visitors might approach Emoline's empty house; her son, or the sheriff. Cassius kept still in the darkness and watched as the door came open a crack, remaining that way for such a long time that Cassius began to wonder if the door had been that way all along and he simply had not realized it. When it finally swung fully open, a man was revealed. He stepped into the room, reached about the wall and floor until he found Emoline's lantern, and lit it. Cassius knew the man immediately.
"Emoline, where the hell are you?" said the man, holding up the lantern. It was a moment before the man realized he was not alone.