47

10.

"You wait out on the back porch until the Master is through with Number Twelve," Fred Chocolate, Master Tobias's haughty manservant, said to me.

Fred was a tall man, thin and blacker than nighttime. He had great white eyes and a perpetual disdainful sneer on his lips. He wore a black suit with big lapels and a white shirt with a string tie. His shoes looked like black glass they were so shiny and his white gloves made his hands look like cabbage butterflies in a black forest.

Before meeting Tall John I believed that Fred Chocolate was the most elegant colored man in the entire world the luckiest too.

Fred Chocolate was named by Tobias's wife when she was just a child. She called him Fred Chocolate after a character in a child's book and the name stuck to him. He was such a favorite of the Master that Tobias allowed the butler to have a shack to live in and a wife, Mabel Chocolate, to live in it with him. Mabel Chocolate was also one of Miss Eloise's maids.

Fred spoke for the Master when he was away and even gave orders to the white workers, all except Mr. Stewart. So when Fred told me to go to the back porch I ran around the house to the little platform built behind the slave's entrance.

I sat down on the stoop there and watched the little black ants make their way, in long lines, from the house to their nest under the honeysuckle bushes. Those ants had been making that journey as long as I could remember. Many a day I had sat on those steps watching them, vassals to a fat queen that lived under the ground. I thought that the slaves were like those ants: Flore and Albert and Pritchard and all the slaves on our plantation and all the slaves on all the plantations in all of Georgia. I looked around to see if there was an ant sitting on a pebble looking at everybody else like I was doing. But I never saw a lazy ant. Even they were better than I that's what I thought back then.

"Hi, babychile," a voice said.

Big Mama Flore had come up behind me and was looking down on my head.

I frowned and grabbed a stick to hit those ants with. But when I was about to strike them I looked down and thought about how I would feel if some hard-hearted person was to strike me and my friends for no reason. So instead I threw the stick into the bushes and turned toward Flore. "Why'd you shet that do' on me, Big Mama?" I cried. She knelt down next to me and wrapped me in her arms. I had been waiting for that loving embrace for many a day. When she hugged me I started to cry and she did too. She

kissed my cheek and our tears rolled together. She pulled the burrs out of my hair.

She didn't answer my question but it wasn't necessary. In my heart I knew why she turned me away. I had to be a field slave if that was what Tobias wanted. I had to do what the Master decreed.

Neither master nor nigger be, the words came to me as they would time and again over the many years of my long life. John had given me a gift that was also a danger if I ever said it out loud.

"How's it goin' out there with Mud Albert and Champ?" Flore asked me.

It was just a simple question. One word would have sufficed for the answer. But it opened the floodgates of my pain and labor. I told Flore about Pritchard branding me and about Champ's beating of him. I told her about the cotton and Eighty-four's pinches and the chiggers and biting gnats, I talked about Tall John but I didn't tell her about the wonderful things he could do. I didn't tell because I was worried that if Master knew about John's powers he might take him away and I'd never see him again. "Lemme see yo hands," Flore said at one point. I held up my palms.

"They all healed," she said. "Mud Albert said that you had real bad cuts. How'd they get bettah?"

I hunched my shoulders. I really didn't know what John had done.

"I guess I jes heal quick," I said.

We talked for a long time and at the end Flore wrapped, four molasses cookies in a napkin that she pi

"Go back to work," the haughty manservant said. Flore kissed my cheek. Then she looked at my new friend and said, "So you the new boy?" "Yes ma'am," John said brightly. "My baby here likes you," she added. "He is a fine person, Number Forty-seven is," John answered. "The finest the human race has to offer."

"Watch your mouth," Fred Chocolate said as he slapped the top of John's head.

But my friend didn't cower or wince. He kept Flore's eye and she looked at him in wonder and maybe even with a little fear.

"It was nice to meet you, young man," she said then. "I'm afraid you'll be seein' more of him than you want to," Fred said. "Mastuh seems to think that this copper-colored piece'a trash can help Miss Eloise." "He has the touch?" Flore asked. "Mastuh think so." "Do you?" Flore asked John.

"My people know a great deal about herbs and healing," he said. "We've been curing disease for longer than even we can remember."

"That's the lies he tole Mastuh," Chocolate said. "Now we have to smell his field stink all over our house."

11.

I heard all the words but I didn't really care about anything but the insinuation that Miss Eloise was sick.

Back then in my s/avemind, as John called it, I thought that Eloise was the closest thing you could come to an angel here on Earth. She was to me the most beautiful girl in all the world. I loved her in my heart as Brother Bob told us we had to love the Lord. Every night when I remembered to say my prayers I asked Him to keep her safe. I felt that if anything happened to Miss Eloise that I would die too.

Eloise was a beautiful child, that's for sure. And I learned later that she was a good person too. But now I realize that I loved her whiteness when I was still a slave because that whiteness meant freedom, and freedom was what I wanted more than anything in the world even though I didn't know it.

As soon as John and I were away from the back door of the mansion I asked him, "Did you see Miss Eloise?"

He didn't answer me right off. Instead he walked with me in silence until we got to a fence behind the chicken coop. We climbed up and over the few rungs and went maybe a dozen paces into the bushes. There, behind a big bramble bush, was a downed cottonwood tree that made a perfect seat for someone who needed to take a load off without being seen. I had never known about that resting place and I wondered how John knew to walk right to it. But I was too upset about Miss Eloise to question him about it.

"Did you see her?" I asked again.

John sat back on the cottonwood trunk and pulled his knee up to his ski

"Yes, I did," he said after a moment's thought. "Tobias asked me if I knew anything about healing. He said that Andrew Pike said that his wife thought that the runaway slave was a healer. I told him that I wasn't Pike's runaway, even though I am, and he said that I didn't have to worry about Pike, that Pike owed him two slaves and so that I was safe with him. All he cared about was if I was a healer."

"And what did you say?" I said, trying to move the story along.

"I told him that my people knew about healing."

"And so? Did you see Miss Eloise?" I asked for the third time.

"Yes. Tobias brought me to her. Her room is filled with sunlight. It was brightly painted and the windows were open. But she had bad color and was sleeping badly. She had fever."

"What's wrong with her?" I cried.

"I was only allowed to take her pulse," John said. "But I'm pretty sure that she has a blood infection. It seems to have gone to her brain."