Chapter seven

I had learnt a long time ago that the world didn't work as one planned and the orange wasn't ever shared equally. 

One year back, 

I used to have this nightmares when i was younger, and then i had it again, four years after i had first been assigned as Abigail's hand maid. It was almost always the same scenery; 

i was on a boat or a ship because the ground swayed. Voices bounced around and above  me and sometimes it blended with the hum of  the ocean.  I was in a  dark room along with others, although i could not see them, i heard them, shuffling, coughing, children crying and sometimes hums that turned to singing. 

Foot steps echoed above us as the person pounded down the stairs. I was singing softly along with the crowd which were already quietening. 'Who said ye baboons were allowed to sing' . His booming voice hollered across the room. He stepped threateningly towards  me, i could see his face clearly, pudgy, sweaty and red from ale, he smelled too, i remember the poignant  odour as he breathed heavily down on me. Someone pressed their arm against mine and i knew without looking that it was my mama. 'Let her alone'! Someone called from across  the  room and he sounded like my father. 'Shut you trap afore i shut it for you ' , the man growled as he  walked right up to my face. It was only then i noticed the whip in his meaty hand but it was already too late.

When i woke up, i was drenched with sweat.  I rolled off the bed, the room was stuffy, i needed air. I went to my window and pulled the shutter up, as the cool wind caressed my face, i realized i had been holding my breath. I let it out slowly into the outside, the pressure on my chest sipped away. Slightly better, i looked around the room, the shadows and darkened areas made me feel like there was someone there lurking just waiting to pounce on me. It was probably just the lingering fear from the dream but i felt i must get out and away. 

Outside, sitting on the steps leading to the back door, the October wind skirted around me and played with my shawl and billowed my gown. I wrapped it around my legs and stared up into the black-blue sky with no stars, it was when the night was its darkest that the sun was about to rise. Breathing in the cool October air,i reviewed the nightmare, playing it in my head. It was the first from a long time that i had relieved this nightmare, although it was slightly  different from th ones i used to have the first years after i had been bought. 

I stayed outside for as long as i could, telling myself i wanted to enjoy the cool breeze, but when i began to shiver, i conceded that i was frightened to go back to my room and of going to sleep to fall back into the nightmare. Finally when the black to fade away from the sky, and the blue lightened, i assured myself that it was safe, believing that  one could not have nightmares when the night dies and the day is born.

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'Good morning Naomi', Abigail gayed when she saw me some time in the morning. 'Humph'! Was all i replied. I was sleep derived and it showed. 'Well', she began again, 'how was your night'? I frowned, staring straight in front, then bending down to continue my sewing. 'I saw Billy today and he asked if he could see you later on the day'. I stared at her in surprise. Billy was the boy i had a liking for you see, so it was no wonder she mentioned him. But Billy spoke to her? Billy, who like many other workers go out of their way to be out of the white people's way, purposefully sort her out to ask if he could see me later? That sounded. . . 

Her lips twitched, my eyes narrowed. Her lips wiggled, my eyes had turned to slits on my face. 'You'.

'Eh. . .'she turned her face away.

You'! I exclaimed.She shrieked and i pounced on her. 'Billy indeed, Billy my foot, you little tale teller'.

'You wouldn't even look at me' she protested between gasp and laughter. 'You were in such a mood'.  

Finally i sat up and she sat up too, grinning at me as she fixed her hair and arranged her skirt. 'What are you doing today'? She asked. I sighed and rested my elbows on my lap. 'Planting. Why'?

'Well', she adjusted her dress again and i raised my brow in suspicion. 'I wondered if we might take a walk today'.

'Mm hm'! I gave her that knowing look and she flapped her arms in  surrender. 'Oh alright! I wanted to see Ashton again you know, in a very delicate, inconspicuous manner'.

As of last winter, Abigail had developed a slight hero worship for young mater Ashton. It came about in this way;

It was a glorious day, the sun was smiling down at us belightingly from above its glasses and below the rim of his hat. I had just found out a fortnight ago that there was a youth social gathering coming up next two weeks later, that day, but when i told  Abigail, she became low in spirit because she had taken ill and would not be seen to recover so soon as to attend her very first social gathering  which was between thirteen to twenty-five years old. 

Surprisingly, when the first week rolled in, the week before the social week, Abigail was grappling for health, and by the next week she was up and bouncing on her feet as usual. She had said to me, in the week when she was getting better that, ' i'm going to go Naomi, it's my first social gathering and i won't miss it for the world'. The very next week when she began talking about the handsome men that'll be present, with her friend, Amy, and what choice of cloth to wear and how to style her hair to match her slippers, i knew that she was back, hale and healthy. 

So the days before the "day", passed in a flurry, filled with so many things to do, a lot of excitement and not enough time. When the day finally came, Abigail was a bundle of excitement from morning to the very afternoon. 'Calm yourself down', her mother cautioned. 'Our little princess is all grown up, going to a social gathering. Imagine that! I remember when i was younger, i went to this fair that was happening in the next town. I was. . . How old was i again Pa'?  Mr Stanley Jr settled himself in his chair to begin the story of where he'd first seen Mrs Stanley for the millionth time, even i could mouth him word for word. 'Oh father! You can't compare this to the fair you went to some eons away', her father gasped. 'It isn't the same right grandpa'? Mr Stanley only smiled at her antics, his eyes twinkling beneath the white brows.

When we arrived, the  field was filled with young people of varying age and i was consciously aware that i was the only black present. I tugged at Abigail's sleeve as we passed, eyes following us through the crowd. We hadn't wanted to be spot out, at least i had'nt, and now we were because of me, or perhaps it was Abigail's dress. It was a long floral print cotton gown with long wide sleeves that stretched long at the elbow. The dress flowed down her freely, and trailed softly behind her on the grass. When she spotted her friends, we went to them, all dressed prettily, but nothing to my Abigail. I helped her settle down beside them then i was at odds. Firstly, i had donned a simple pale green dress that was obviously tired looking when compared with the bright new dresses the girls flirted around in, and shoved my braided hair in a  bonnet of the same colour, and  no matter what it seemed, i liked to look good.  Secondly and most importantly, i was black. It was very much of similarity to the  black sheep among white ones. They were probably wondering what in God's name i was doing there. Well, i was beginning to wonder it too.  

Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other, but there i was, an alien in my own skin and i knew Abigail wasn't happy about that, as she was constantly trying  to include me in her conversations but it was obvious it wasn't possible. I became painfully clear how different we were. I loved watching her talk though, her head flung back in abandon, the colour back on her cheek. She was such a pretty radiant flower. There was one other person i noticed stealing coveted glances at her, in fact, several of the males were glancing at her, some even blatantly staring. But this i knew and liked his character. Ashton.  It was the height of my time, watching him watch her and when her gaze crossed his, his dipped his head, colour filling his face. 

I knew though that i wouldn't be let alone forever. 

Like expected, a group of  half-witted buffoons, bounced to our direction. After a good time wasted as they jeered and called me names amongst  all other things and innuendos towards my mistress, and there was Abigail herself just about ready to blow over her cover, i decided  that i had taken enough, i had to leave. Knowing Abigail was in good hands, i wished her goodbye. I was no coward, i knew when i was outnumbered. There was a difference between running away and k owing when to leave.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

I was in the kitchen when i heard a loud scream.i rushed out to the drawing room to see Ashton standing in his own puddle, drenched to the boots, holding a limp figure in his arms. I gasped. Abigail ! I rushed  to his side where Mrs Stanley was giving orders to the servants present. 'Quickly you two', she spoke to two menservants, 'take her to her room. You', her eyes collided with mine and she gripped my arm. 'Oh Naomi, go with them and see to her. She'd only just recovered'. I followed the men quickly without a word.

Later, after Abigail had been given a dry change of clothes and stuffed under many  quilts and blankets, i crept back to the drawing room to see Ashton standing by the door in dry clothes now, Mrs Stanley battering him with questions. 'We went by the river ma'am', he said. 'All of us or as much of us that went. A branch caught on Miss Abigail's hair as we passed  and i think her pin fell into the water and flowed away'. I frowned that was the pin i had bought for her on her birthday and she insisted on wearing. 'Miss Abigail insisted she must get it but she slipped from a stepping stone and fell into the river at the bend. I jumped in to get her'. He ended with a shrug as though it didn't matter. I noticed then that he looked  a bit  fatigue  and so did Mrs Stanley cause she bid him goodbye, not too long later.

It was  only afterwards that Abigail to me the entirety of the story. 'I thought i would drown Naomi, you know how i cannot swim. And  when the water came over my head, i felt i might  just give up. She shuddered into her blanket. 'I didn't even hear when he jumped in after mw. I was so tired and i must have swallowed enough water'. She shifted on the bed, bringing her hand out to squeeze mine softly. 'Well  i think he put me on the bank on the other side of the river. You know we were away from the others. I could faintly hear him call me. He called me darling and "dear Abigail" '. She smiled, her eye off in a distant. 'When i coughed, he held me in his arms rocking me back and forth. Wasn't he so sweet? Do you think that's what every one does when they saved the almost drowned'? Of course i didn't think that and i said so and told her  she might want to continue the story now or i might have to squeeze it out of Ashton himself. She smiled. 'And then. . .', she giggled. 'He kissed me'. I gasped and she laughed again, a happy, carefree laugh, her eyes were wide and shining. 'He must have thought i was i  a faint because all i did was shiver and my eyes were too heavy to open. 

It was so soft. Like a feather. So sweet. And then he picked me up and took me back home'. She sighed. 'I could never forget it'. She murmured in a smile. Whether she meant the kiss or the man i never knew.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

'Well, what do you say'? She looked at me expectantly while her hand patted any stray stand of hair back into place. I folded my piece of sewing and placed it into my pocket as i stood up from my perch on my stool in my room. 'I'm planting. If you want to take a walk, take it by yourself'.

'But Naomi'! Already out of the door and closing it behind me, i shoved my head back in and crooned. 'Don't be shy'. A pillow was thrown at me.

When i lay to sleep that night, exhausted and wearied from work, i had completely forgotten about the nightmare the night before.