WIVES AND HAY FIELDS

 

Two men walked the fields, their identical heads bent in conversation. One man, the elder, walked with a cane, the other man’s gait consciously slowed to match his. In turn each pointed to a specific part of the farm. It was late spring and all the fields were planted.  A wandering traveler headed west had brought the seed of a new wheat variety through the area the fall before. The old man, a canny poker player and an even better horse trader, had negotiated for a share of the precious seed. The field of winter wheat had been planted in the fall by the young man and the few other black men that still lived on top of the mountain. That field of wheat was now almost knee high and would need to be harvested by early summer. There would be plenty of hay and grain  for the coming year.

The tour of the fields ended at the gate behind the farm house. The two men paused and the elder spoke, “The fields are in good shape. You have managed well….no other farm in this area is this far along. The only thing that concerns me is that you are  alone. You don’t pay any attention to any of the women who look at you.”

“Can’t.” was the one word answer. The younger man stared out toward the field, his closest thoughts miles away. He knew the conversation could not be avoided any longer and he stared at the horizon of the far fields. It had been nearly ten years since the elder had filed court papers declaring the young man’s freedom from enslavement but the young man held his greatest sorrow to himself. His personal freedom did not apply to his carefully hidden family.

“Why not?” The elder looked at his only son. There was only concern in his question.  He himself had been alone since the death of his mate….the mother of his only child.  He alone knew why there was a patch of wild flowers in a far corner of the farm and why he walked there some evenings and simply sat upon a huge rock..seemingly lost in thought…his unfocused eyes scanning a high ridge across the valley below. This one spot was a secret he could never share but even now, the memories of that season and spring when he had not lived alone on his mountain kept his heart warm.  His son would need warm memories when he too grew old.

“Don’t feel like being beat up.” The answer surprised both men. The younger man did not realize that he had made a fateful decision…although as he thought to himself..his father had a right to know. The private truth and public secret had been theirs to share for many years.. As a child he had known that as long as he stayed on the mountain and in close proximity to the older man…he was safe.  The older man’smother had seen to his security as a child and both elders had carefully taught him the habits that would protect him as he grew older.

“WHO would dare touch you?!” Anger flared from the older man’s eyes. His thoughts went wild with fury for a few seconds until he saw the younger man’s smile, a smile which was no expression of fear but rather an expression of fact. The older man was somewhat reassured.

“Margaret.” The young man’s eyes narrowed softly as he waited patiently  for a response…

“Who’s she?”

“On old man Howard’s place in Christiansburgh.” The elder remembered a yound woman who worked in the kitchen of the Howard plantation…in the back area where William Henry had to wait his father’s return when business required Meriweather’s presence on that property.  Thinking back over time…yes he could see that there had been some interest between the two.

“You interested in her?” Older grey eyes  stared at younger grey eyes. There was something that  wasn’t being said. The older one waited for the rest of the story.

“Guess so..we got five babies, four boys and a little girl.”

“Why the Hell didn’t you tell me? I would have bought her!” The older man exploded, wondering why he was just now finding out. The two men with identical eyes glared  at each other before the eldern stompednthrough the gate toward the house. Then over his shoulder “Saddle my horse…I’ve got business in Christiansburgh. Does that old drunk know she’s your woman and those are your children?”

“He’s not there. He went to Richmond last week,” the younger man yelled back. “Don’t know when he’s coming back.”

“Then you take the horse and go tell her I’m going to buy her and the children.”               

“Won’t do no good…Howard is mean as a snake…and if he thinks you want to buy her especially for me…he’ll treat her mean….meaner than he treats everybody else.”

“Then you go tell your woman that if I have to get Howard drunk and beat him in a poker game…I will get her and the children away from that old son of a bitch! And if I can’t buy her, we’ll find a way to steal her!’

Surprised at the force of the elder’s response, the younger man answered. “Can’t take the horse...they’ll think I stole it. I’ll have to take one of the mules late tonight. Nobody in his right mind would steal a stubborn mule.”

“Take the mule  and when you get there you’d better teach that girl how to get here  across the

ridge!” The older man yelled over his shoulder nas he stomped into the house. “I’ll be dmned if that

old fool, Howard, will keep her! I will find a way...you should have told me before now!” The

kitchen door of the house closed with a loud thud.