Chapter 22: Knowledge
Mariah remembers
A portly, officious looking man found Master Cassender working in a field about two miles to the east of the cabin. "Making your rounds, Jonquil?" Master Cassender said to him.
Master Jonquil checked Mariah's chain, then drew Master Cassender away. He looked at Mariah as he whispered, but Master Cassender shook his head and said loudly enough for Mariah to hear, "She's a rag through and through. No need to worry about her."
Master Jonquil shrugged but stopped whispering. "Rag or no, she's your concern inside the wall but the hunters' if she gets out. You're fairly warned, in any event."
Mariah froze. Did the man know her thoughts? No, he was giving merely a general statement. He looked at her sharply, and Mariah lowered her eyes.
Present day
Animal sat cross-legged on the scaffolding in the revel room, staring at the newly cleaned section of the wall. He wanted this section to be something he had only recently thought of: a drawing from a slave's point of view. But what? His experience of slave life was limited; mostly he knew only housegirls, and then only for the small portion of their lives when they served as such, and only when they interacted with their masters.
Rose would help him. But she was at the exercise yard. That was a whole area of her life he barely knew. Perhaps he would go with her tomorrow to see what it was like.
He heard the clang of the door closing. When he saw who had come in he scrambled to his feet and half-climbed, half-jumped down to the floor.
Amalie crossed the room, looking as wary as Animal. But when she came close her expression suddenly changed. She threw her arms around him. "Let's not fight any more," she said.
Animal hugged her back. "Okay," he said. He kissed the top of her head before he let her go.
"That's settled then," Amalie said. She scanned the pictures on the wall. "You've made a lot of progress."
Animal inclined his head in acknowledgment.
Amalie continued to look around the room. Seeing a lone easel on the floor, she walked over to it. "New student?" she asked. "The lines aren't strong but the composition is interesting."
"Her lines will come," Animal said.
"If she keeps with it. Anyone I know?"
"Yes," Animal said. "Rose."
Amalie looked blank. "Who?"
"My housegirl. You've met her several times."
Animal watched Amalie's expression slowly change to one of recognition, then surprise, then shock. "You're teasing me, right?"
"No." Animal crossed his arms. "Are we going to fight about it?"
Amalie expelled a breath, and looked more closely at Rose's half-finished charcoal sketch of the scaffolding. "I told you, I don't want to fight any more." Her voice was low and controlled. "Tell me why you've done this."
Animal stood next to Amalie and looked with her at the sketch. He spoke cautiously. "A lot has changed since last time I saw you."
"The day we argued," Amalie said.
Animal nodded, but didn't continue. Amalie finally prodded him. "Tell me."
Animal flipped the pad on the easel to a clean piece of paper. He picked up Rose's chalk and began to sketch the same view of the scaffolding Rose had been drawing. He drew swiftly but without much thought. As the picture began to take shape, he recounted to Amalie how he had whipped Rose, how Gabriel, and Rose, had forced him to understand that she was as human as he was, as Amalie was, and how from that he had come to understand that all slaves were human. Then he described how Rose had asked to draw, how she had shown in just a few weeks that she loved the act of making art as much as anyone he had ever known, as much as he himself did.
When Animal stopped speaking his sketch was done, depicting not just the scaffolding but the room around it and the bright light shining in through the windows. He put down the chalk and turned to Amalie.
She had listened without interruption. Now she took his hand in hers. "You have unnatural feelings for her," she said, her voice flat.
"Weren't you listening?" Animal twisted his hand out of Amalie's grasp. "I love her, and she loves me."
"I'm sure she does," Amalie said sharply. "In the way that a slave can love her master. But, Animal, that's all she is. A slave."
Animal sighed with frustration. How many times had he had this same conversation with Gabriel, before?
Amalie continued, saying carefully, "You're my best friend. I know how deep your feelings run. If you say you love this girl, I believe you."
Animal nodded, relieved, but Amalie wasn't done. "You're other things beside my friend, though. The greatest, most dedicated artist of our generation." Animal inclined his head at that. Amalie picked up the chalk that Animal had put down, and added to his sketch. Her hand flew over the page, darkening a line here, sharpening a corner there. She stood back and they both looked at it. Whereas before the focal point of the sketch had been the bright sunshine reflecting off the scaffolding, illuminating it, after Amalie's additions the eye was drawn to the dark corners of the room.
She said, "You're also a man who should be thinking of fathering children soon." Animal started to protest but Amalie continued, "What woman will have you knowing that you love a slave?"
Animal pointed at the mural panels he had painted, and at the empty panels that circled the room. "These are my legacy," he said. "They're all I need."
"Them and a slave you think is human," Amalie said drily. But at the end her voice gave way to a half-sob.
Animal took her hand. "Will you let me try to convince you? For the sake of our long friendship?" Amalie hesitated, then nodded slowly. "You still have those triplets, right?" Animal asked.
"Yes, but I don't love them, Animal; I don't even have unnatural feelings for them. They're just my houseboys."