My Name Is Mary: A Reincarnation Page 8

  The cabins were dark, but Mary could hear soft weeping coming from several of the cabins. She could hear Bethy weeping the loudest and her heart tore with grief at her last sight of Ellis, his eyes filled with tears and terror, holding the old quilt to his chest. Where had Ellis gone? Who bought the young boy, and would they treat him well or mar his small body with scars? Would she ever see her friend again?

  Clark was mean and vicious, but he left the children alone, unless they got in his way. It was only when the girls got to raping age and the boys grew eye to eye, then the children had to watch out for him. Most of the time, Clark merely kicked the children foolish enough to get in his way. Mary fervently hoped that all the children sold would go to good masters and hope they had enough to eat, remembering her hunger last night.

  Mary hurried to her cabin and gently opened the door. Her mother and Liza were setting at the small table by the fire. Each woman cradling a steaming cup of fragrant root tea in their weathered calloused hands. Ida cried with joy, almost overturning the small table when she looked up and saw Mary standing in the doorway. She pulled her daughter unresisting into her arms, crying with relief and jubilation.

  Ida held Mary away from her, her eyes inspecting Mary from crown to heel. Mary was whole and safely home. Ida noted the new coat Mary wore and was glad that the mistress had seen fit to keep her daughter safe and warm. Ida rushed around the cabin, making a late dinner for her daughter; she knew Mary would be hungry. Mary held onto Liza’s large warm form as she watched her mother make dinner. Ida watched her daughter’s small hands gently rubbed Liza’s soft flaccid arms. Liza absently rubbed Mary’s slender back and haunches, her touch reassuring to Mary, each taking comfort in the other’s touch.

  Mary was glad to be home, she never wanted to leave again. She breathed in the familiar scent of home; it was like a wonderful heady fragrance to her.

  “It was a long trip momma. That wagon near shook me unto death. I miss my friends. The place they took us was terrible. I don’t know what death smells like, but I think that place was it. There was so many people. They was afraid.”

  “Did anyone hurt you?” Ida asked, handing over a bowl of stew.

  Mary shook her head. “No, Missa Clark done took me some place else. I didn’t stay with my friends. I didn’t want to leave them. But I was glad I did.” Mary said shamefaced.

  “Daughter, you were saved. Don’t you feel shame for that.” Ida said softly, her hand cupping Mary’s face. Mary nodded; her eyes filled with tears.

  Her heart was sore, but her mother made it better. It was hard to know how to feel and what to feel.

  “Savannah is a big place, momma. They got lots of tall buildings and fancy things. Everyone looks like swells.” Mary said, her cheek bulging with food.

  “I’s been there once, years ago. Lotta people there.” Liza grunted, taking a sip of her tea. Ida sat down at the table, taking Mary up in her lap.

  “I was sold to old massa Anderson there, when I was young. I remember it, and was so scared.” Ida said in a low voice. Mary looked back at her mother, over her shoulder. Her small hand put the spoon down and came to rest on top of her mother’s hand.

  “I don’t ever wanna leave here momma.” Mary said softly and felt her body hugged hard from behind.

  Mary lay in her mother’s arms later that night and cried deep, soul wrenching sobs. Mary cried for her lost friends, she cried for Old Bitsy, who died yesterday. She cried for her mother and the knowledge that her mother wouldn’t live much longer. Mostly, she cried for her lost innocence, she would never again look at the world with childish eyes. Mary would never again idolize the mistress as she had done. Her future, such as it was, rested in the hands of others, and they could do with it what they will, whether it made her happy or sad. Mary was after all, only a slave.

  §

  Dr. Taylor paused the session, she felt old suddenly and filled with sorrow. Cory also looked as though he’d been running a marathon. It was time to end the session, though she really wanted to keep going. She was profoundly grateful she’d made the decision to record this remarkable session.

  “I’m going to bring you to a full awaken state. You will remember everything, but you won’t feel the sorrow or anxiety of the events. You’ll awaken refreshed and unburdened.” Renda counted backwards, bringing Cory to a full awareness. Cory sat still for several moments, blinking his eyes, then he looked over to Dr. Taylor and a slow wide smile spread across his features.

  “Holy freaking cow. Was that me? I mean, am I really Mary?” He asked softly, almost shyly.

  “Yes, I think it is. It seems that Mary has a lot to say.”

  “Why did we stop?” Cory asked, sitting forward in the lounger.

  “Our time was drawing close and I think we need not rush this. For our next session, I will allocate more time. I really hadn’t expected this.” Dr. Taylor shrugged. Cory nodded.

  “At least I know why redheaded white men make me nervous. Clark sounded like a real grade A bastard.”

  “What ancestry do you claim? Your mother and father?”

  “Well, my grandfather was originally from Puerto Rico, that’s my dad’s dad. My mom’s people are originally from Ireland, but I do know that we have native American ancestors. Also, there are some black as well, somewhere along the lines. We’re kind of a hodgepodge.” Cory shrugged.

  Dr. Taylor looked at him, though Cory had gray eyes, his skin coloring was olive color. Some of his Hispanic or native American genetic markers were showing through. But he had lived a life as a Mongolian man as well as a Greek slave and a Spanish sailor. His consciousness had lived other lives. She shook her head mentally. It was quite remarkable.

  “On our next session, we’ll see what happens.” Dr. Taylor said standing up. Her legs and back felt stiff. Cory got up as well and smiled once more. He seemed more at peace and Renda was glad. She thought that perhaps Cory was finding his center.

  Cory went out into the bright sunlight. His eyes squinted hard and he lifted a hand to shield his eyes. He could feel the humid heat of Charleston around him. He looked around, it felt kind of weird. Ten minutes ago, he’d been Mary, sitting with her mother in a time were life was hard and brutal. Now, he was standing here, looking at the cars passing by. He grunted at the contradiction. He clearly remembered everything, but the emotional component had been taken. He knew that Mary had suffered greatly. A small piece of a puzzle had fallen into place. Why he feared some of the things he feared. Why there were some people who made him feel uncomfortable. Why some smells disturbed him.

  The following week Cory arrived for his appointment. He had slept better over the week. The nightmares were becoming few and far between. He was also feeling less anxiety. Dr. Taylor smiled at him and he felt immediately at ease. She somehow reminded him of Liza. He went to the lounger and sat back, getting himself comfortable.

  “How have you been feeling since our last session?” Dr. Taylor asked.

  “A lot better. I feel a sense of calmness, I’m not as agitated or anxious.”

  “That’s wonderful. It would seem that perhaps a lot of underlying anxiety had something to do with factors in Mary’s life.”

  “I’m still not sure why it affects me, over two hundred years later and in another life and another body.” Cory said, biting his lower lip.

  “I don’t either. But I was thinking about something. Some people have talents, gifts that there is no explanation for. Someone who can play the piano with little training and yet do it so well. A prodigy. An artist who can paint or draw amazing pictures without training, at a young age. Someone who is mechanically inclined. They can see and take apart and build things. I think perhaps we’ve all lived past lives. We gain knowledge on some level and that transfers from life to life with our soul.”

  “I guess that makes sense. It’s just crazy though.” Cory shrugged.

  “It is. And I’m sure a lot of people would say it’s all BS, but hearing Mary, I’m starting to believ
e it.” Dr. Taylor smiled.

  “Me too.” Cory grinned.

  “Alright, today, we’ll take our time, now that we know that Mary has a story to tell. I’ll record this as well. Are you ready Cory?”

  “I sure am.”

  “Wonderful, relax and take a deep breath. Relax your body and feel yourself going back.”

  §

  The mundaneness of life filled Mary’s days. Mary was growing taller by the day; her long supple form began to show hints of womanly curves. Ida worried about her daughter; Mary was now fourteen and drew the notice of many men, including Clark. She truly feared her daughter could end up as Clark’s victim, were she not careful to bind Mary’s breasts. Since Mary started her courses, Ida had carefully wrapped cloth around Mary’s flat chest. As Mary’s breasts grew, Ida tightened the binding.

  “I know this don’t feel good daughter, but I need ta keep you hidden. We don’t need that snake, Clark, lookin’ at you.” Ida said as she tied the straps. Mary nodded but said nothing. Each morning, Ida wrapped her daughter and said a prayer. Matilda had done the same thing to Patina. Theo was back from school and was now helping out with the management of the farm. Ida had seen the glances Theo threw Patina’s way. Ida thought the pretty girls had it the worse, they became targets for men’s lusts.

  Mary worked full time, up at the main house, taking over for Kelly, who had died last winter from a deadly cough. Fanny had been devastated and had died a week later from grief. Mary missed their quirky ways and their cheerful chatter. She took over their tasks, along with Patina, who had come up to the house to work. Mary showed Patina how to clean the silver and the glassware. Patina’s mother, Matilda had died the previous winter as well and Patina visited Mary’s home more often, often spending the nights. The girls giggled through the nights.

  Mistress Victoria remained very fond of Mary and had started teaching her to read and write over the last several winters. John Anderson had thrown a fit, but Victoria stood firm and got her way, as she always had. She sat with Mary in the late afternoons each cold winter day and taught her how to read the primers. Mary was a quick and bright student and reveled in the forbidden knowledge. She felt nervous when the master stopped by to watch and listen. She didn’t look at him.

  The mistress gave Mary a bible and bid her to read it and learn from it. At night, Mary sat by the fire and read the bible to her mother, Patina, Liza and to Nan. Nan had four small children, all boys, who sat and listened to the wonderful bible stories. Nan was pregnant with her fifth, she was a prolific mother. Gabe was a strutting peacock, happy and content with his growing family. While Mary read to them, they would card wool or knit for the during the long winter months.

  Mary had been forbidden to teach any of the other slaves, the master had pulled her aside.

  “Mary, I know your mistress wants you to read and write and I guess she’ll get her way. But Mary, don’t you dare teach any of the others to read or write. The law frowns upon it.” His words sent cold dread cascading down her body and she didn’t look at him.

  “Yes suh, Massa Anderson, I know I am learnin’ special. I won’t teach no one, suh.” Mary said softly to her master, fearing he would forbid her from further learning. That had been all he said to her four years ago, and she remembered it clearly. She wouldn’t betray that trust, for if she did, she knew he would sell her quickly; he always got rid of trouble makers. Mary was learning to live her life with caution, knowing her well-being was precarious at best.

  Victoria also cultivated Mary’s speech, when Mary was in the house, she had to speak properly.

  “You’ll act as my lady’s maid, besides your house keeping duties.” By the time she was fourteen, Mary’s speech was as polished as her mistress’. Mary was a quick study as well as an excellent mimic, and could sound like Victoria at times. Theo teased her about it. She would fall back to her old speech habits when she was alone with her mother and friends. She could switch fluidly between the two fashions, she called it her upper crust talk. Mary felt uncomfortable speaking formally around those she loved, and she was careful how she spoke around other whites.

  Clark called her an uppity nigger, but still watched her furtively. Clark was careful however; he knew Mary was the mistress’ favorite. Mary could feel his eyes burning into her back and she feared him. She never strayed from the main house and Mary always hurried straight home in the evening. She didn’t want to be caught out at night with Clark around. With her breasts bound tight, she still looked like a little girl, her face smooth and round.

  Dark Henry had grown into a handsome and strong young man; he had started apprenticing under Gabe at the smithy. Henry had always had an affinity for Mary, but now that she was reaching womanhood, his fancy ran along the line of obsession. He was always watching her and mooning over her. Dark Henry became tongue tied around Mary and the older women tittered at his awkwardness. His dark handsome face glowed with embarrassment.

  Henry came to Mary’s cabin one evening in late summer, asking Ida if he could court her daughter. A smile threatened to break out on Ida’s solemn face as she looked into the earnest and serious face of the young man. His hands were twisting and strangling a bouquet of wildflowers he had picked. Taking pity on the poor thing, Ida invited him into the small cabin. Mary was sitting at the table snapping beans; when Mary looked up, she was torn between startled embarrassment and delight. This was the first time one of the men had taken interest in her and she liked Dark Henry very much. He had been one of her playmates during her first years. He had watched over her when she grew older. Suddenly, she was shy and painfully aware of her bound breasts.

  Smoothing back her braided hair, she waited for her mother to let the young man pass through the threshold. She sat as calmly as she could, when Dark Henry came into her home. Her heart was suddenly pounding hard in her chest and she felt her face tingle. Henry walked up to her and handed over the devastated flowers.

  “I pick these here flowers; they is perdy as you is. I remembered you like black eye Suzie.” Henry said his deep voice cracking and he cleared his throat.

  Mary was flattered, and looked up at him, as though seeing Henry for the first time. She’d never before realized how broad his shoulders were and how tall and handsome, he was. Mary looked at Henry through the eyes of a young woman, just waking from a long slumber. Mary accepted the broken flowers graciously, smiling and indicating the only other chair in the room.

  “Please, sit down Henry.” She said quietly. Dark Henry loved the way Mary spoke; it was smooth to the ears and soft like a flower bending in the breeze. Looking at her made his heart flutter. He pulled out the chair, it looked a little fragile and he hoped he wouldn’t break it.

  Dark Henry sat quietly at the table, his large blue-black hands folded, not sure what to do next. He looked down at his bare feet, suddenly shy. Ida rolled her eyes heavenward and told the young people to take a walk around the cabins, Mary hid a smile.

  “Be careful and look to stay out of Clark’s way and the patrol. Take some of Nan’s little ones with you.” Ida warned as the couple readied to leave the cabin.

  Henry smiled gratefully, rising so quickly, he knocked over the wooden chair. He apologized profusely, nearly up turning the small table and the bowl of snap-beans. Mary stepped in and gently took his arm, leading him safely out of the cabin, before he brought down the walls and rafters. Mary smiled secretly and they walked around the cabins, her small hands on his arm. Two of Nan’s children followed the couple, running back and forth, touching Henry’s hand and running away.

  Mary marveled at the strength she felt beneath her hand, it felt as though she were holding warm iron. Amazed, Mary had never felt small before, she towered over her mother and many of the other women. But with Henry, she felt small and fragile. She liked that feeling. Henry was shy, but spoke to her of his work, and his pride shown like candles in the deepest dark. An hour later found Henry at Mary’s cabin.

  “Thank you for walkin with me, Ma
ry. I really liked it. I like you.” His voice was deep and rumbled in his broad chest. He shyly bid her good night and left. Mary smiled a delicious secret smile as she watched the tall young man walk away. She opened the door and found her mother and Liza sniggering over some private joke. Mary blushed, knowing they were probably talking about Dark Henry and her. She laughed again when she caught sight of the sorry state of the wild flowers.

  She walked over to her mother and draped her long arms around the frail woman’s shoulders. She kissed her cheek and told her about her walk with Henry.

  “It was a nice walk momma. He was telling me how Gabe is teaching him how to work the iron.”

  “It’s a good trade. Henry is a good sort. Though he is hard on the furniture.” Ida laughed and Liza joined in. Liza got up heavily, her joints popping and grinding loudly. She bid the two women goodnight and left the cabin, a soft chuckling swirling behind. Mary sat in Liza’s vacated seat and drank the rest of the root tea left in the kettle and smiled at her mother. Ida reached out a hand and cupped Mary’s face, her rough hands petting the soft skin.

  FIVE

  Dark Henry set to courting Mary, with such fervor that would have turned any young girl’s head. Ida watched the interlocutors, her heart filled with joy. Henry brought gifts nearly every night he came to visit. One day he brought a brace of hares, the next day he gifted Mary with a pot or pan or some utensils he had made at the smith. All watched on when he brought fish or a sack of potatoes. All smiled at the couple, glances exchanged between lovers, husbands and wives and mothers and fathers. Nothing went unnoticed in the slave quarters. Mary lavished great compliments on the great craftmanship of Henry’s work and the gifts he brought.

  For Mary’s fifteenth birthday, Dark Henry made her a griddle, shaped in a stylish heart. Gabe help him, but most of the work Henry had done himself. Mary was so touched by his thoughtfulness; she gave him his first kiss on the cheek. Ida thought for sure the young man might swoon, the rapture in his eyes glittered like diamonds. She hid a smile behind her hand and Liza just rolled her eyes and shook her head. That boy had it bad. All could see that Henry and Mary would wed soon.