Sweetsmoke (21 page)

    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.