A Place Called Freedom (1995)

“The young men love cockfights—they’ll walk ten miles to see one. The young women love the young men. The older ones just want to look at one another’s babies and talk about brothers and sisters they’ve lost. And they sing. The Africans have these sad songs that they sing in harmony. You can’t understand the words, but the tunes make your hair stand on end.”

“The coal miners used to sing.”

He was silent for a moment. “Aye, we did.”

She saw that she had made him sad. “Do you think you will ever go back to High Glen?”

“No. Do you?”

Tears came to her eyes. “No,” she said. “I don’t think you or I will ever go back.”

The baby kicked her, and she said: “Ouch!”

“What?” said Mack.

She put a hand on her bulge. “The baby is kicking. He doesn’t want me to yearn for High Glen. He’s going to be a Virginian. Ow! He just did it again.”

“Does it really hurt?”

“Yes—feel.” She took his hand and placed it on her belly. His fingers were hard and rough skinned, but his touch was gentle.

The baby was still. Mack said: “When is it due?”

“Ten weeks.”

“What will you call it?”

“My husband has decided on Jonathan for a boy, Alicia for a girl.”

The baby kicked again. “That’s hard!” Mack said, laughing. “I’m not surprised you wince.” He took his hand away.

She wished he had left it there a little longer. To hide her feelings she changed the subject. “I’d better talk to Bill Sowerby about this party.”

“You haven’t heard?”

“What?”

“Ah. Bill Sowerby has left.”

“Left? What do you mean?”

“He disappeared.”

“When?”

“Two nights ago.”

Lizzie realized she had not seen Sowerby for a couple of days. She had not been alarmed because she did not necessarily see him every day. “Did he say when he was coming back?”

“I don’t know that he talked to anyone, directly. But I’d say he isn’t coming back at all.”

“Why?”

“He owes money to Sidney Lennox, a lot of money, and he can’t pay.”

Lizzie felt indignant. “And I suppose Lennox has been acting as overseer ever since.”

“It’s only been one working day … but yes, he has.”

“I don’t want that brute taking over the plantation!” she said hotly.

“Amen to that,” Mack said with feeling. “None of the hands want it either.”

Lizzie frowned suspiciously. Sowerby was owed a lot in wages. Jay had told him he would be paid when the first tobacco crop was sold. Why had he not simply waited? He could have paid his debts eventually. He must have been frightened. Lennox had threatened him, she felt sure. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. “I believe Lennox has forced Sowerby out,” she said.

Mack nodded. “I don’t know much about it but that’s my guess too. I’ve done battle with Lennox, and look what happened to me.”

There was no self-pity in his tone, just a bitter practicality, but her heart went out to him. She touched his arm and said: “You should be proud. You’re brave and honorable.”

“And Lennox is corrupt and savage, and what happens? He’ll become overseer here, then he’ll steal enough from you, one way and another, to open a tavern in Fredericksburg; and soon he’ll be living much as he did in London.”

“Not if I can help it,” Lizzie said determinedly “I’m going to speak to him right away.” Lennox had a small two-room house down by the tobacco sheds, near Sowerby’s house. “I hope he’s at home.”

“He’s not there now. At this time on a Sunday he’ll be at the Ferry House—that’s an ordinary three or four miles upriver from here. He’ll stay there until late tonight”

Lizzie could not wait until tomorrow: she had no patience when there was something like this on her mind. “I’ll go to the Ferry House. I can’t ride—I’ll take the pony trap.”

Mack frowned. “Wouldn’t it be better to have it out with him here, where you’re the mistress of the house? He’s a rough man.”

Lizzie felt a pang of fear. Mack was right. Lennox was dangerous. But she could not bear to postpone the confrontation. Mack could protect her. “Will you come with me?” she said. “I’d feel safe if you were there.”

“Of course.”

“You can drive the trap.”

“You’ll have to teach me.”

“There’s nothing to it.”

They walked up from the river to the house. The stable boy, Jimmy, was watering the horses. Mack and he got the trap out and put a pony in the traces while Lizzie went into the house to put on a hat.

They drove out of the estate onto the riverside road and followed it upstream to the ferry crossing. The Ferry House was a wood-frame building not much bigger than the two-room houses lived in by Sowerby and Lennox. Lizzie let Mack help her down from the trap and hold open the door of the tavern for her.

It was gloomy and smoky inside. Ten or twelve people sat on benches and wooden chairs drinking from tankards and pottery cups. Some were playing cards and dice, others smoking pipes. The click of billiard balls came from the back room.

There were no women and no blacks.

Mack followed her in but stood back, by the door, his face in shadow.

A man came through a doorway from the back room, wiping his hands on a towel, and said: “What can I bring you, sir—Oh! A lady!”