*Alert: Author’s Note: I took liberty by this fictional, albeit hopeful, detail about the British Slavery Abolition Act happening in 1690ish. In reality, it happened in 1833. It makes me sad to think that it didn’t happen earlier. Thank you as always for reading this little story.
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Gale reached out his hand, signaling Michaela to stop applying salve to the bite mark on his left arm. Theodore’s ears perked up as he was snuggling close to Gale’s bare upper body, lodging on their sofa. The sound of banging on the door became ominously louder.
“Gale Hulder, receive the major’s order or we will break in your property!”
Gale rose from his sofa and Theodore hopped off from his lap and hid underneath Michaela’s blue gingham dress. Concerned, Michaela tried to hold his arm but his arm slipped from her grasp as he went to the door. His face hardened noticeably as he opened it to see Denny and his gun-strapped, dagger wielding men by his side.
With a smirk contaminating his features, the man marched into Gale’s house without an invitation. Although void of fear or rage, his honey amber eyes looked down at the intruder coldly. In a calm voice, Gale stated.
“I wish to speak with Major Abraham Soussiere.”
“Ha! Well, you shall see him soon! My captain shall bring an arrest warrant and he ordered me to keep you here lest you cow and tail back!”
“That is not true!”
A deep voice in the background, and everyone turned their attention to the woman. Ivory’s hair tousled all over her shoulders and her eyes seemed to shoot at some galloping game from all the way. She clearly came running from the fields. Still panting, she tried to gather her breath but still staid her ground, facing the incredulous faces of the rangers who struggle to keep their eyes from the woman who is quite famous in the region surrounding Fullgreens.
“I’ve known Gale before my brother left here to serve the king. He is like any settler. Indifferent at most, but never partial to the rebels. And I know my brother. Abram would never…”
“Silence!”
Then appeared Abram Soussiere with his golden thread rimmed vessel shaped felt cap over his whitely powdered wig and donned in a scarlet coat, brandishing a saber and holding a parchment. As he actually hates wearing wigs, he only wears them in imperious situations. Behind him stood his most choice men, at least twenty, ready to take out arms at the snap of their commander’s fingers. Looking like the perfect image of a British general, his face was stone cold, and then finally Gale stared in disbelief, his face becoming ashen as traumatic memories sprang from the back to claw on his chest. Staring back at Gale who slumped his head in dejection with unfeeling eyes, Abram opened the parchment.
“In the name of the King and his royal court, the traitor who infiltrated into the King’s army and delivered reports of grave strategic importance to the rebel forces shall be arrested immediately.”
At the triumphant flourish of the leader’s hand, his two burly men of outstounding height grabbed both of Gale’s arms. As the men laid their hands on Gale, Abram noticed how the little woman’s eyes suddenly turned fierce as she took a step back, close enough to a medicine chest.
Then suddenly, things took an unexpected turn.
“My…my liege!”
Everyone started to freeze as Abram’s keen saber was on the target’s throat, who raised his hands in protest. Unable to process this, the men who were struggling with Gale, who can surprisingly put up a good fight for his lithe frame, took their hands off. In a rhythmic voice that always makes him sound like he is in his early twenties, Abram continued.
“You, my good sir, are worthy of my utmost gratitude. I didn’t know you were so willing to fall for it.”
Denny could only open and then shut his mouth repetitively like a fish outside the pond, gasping for air. In an air of impatience, Abram yelled without shifting his predatory gaze.
“Are you going to make me do all the work?”
“No, no sir!”
Then Abram’s subordinates gathered to the arrested firebrand, holding their pistols against the rangers while they take him away.
***
The mid evening air started smelling of cotton candy as Allyah was burning sugar on a pan to flavor the mead, the way she knew Abram liked it. The lush foliage of the forest swayed, as if in delighting in the airy scent that cannot be emulated by the lushest of honeysuckles or crushed wild berries.
Theodore was pawing on Allyah’s calloused ankle in a desperate attempt for just one drop of that coveted flavor, but gave up by turning his attention to clovers growing as weeds in her garden. He was not alone though as the youngest of the Saucer sisters, Pipa didn’t get to have sweets either. They just finished a plain supper of baked potato that always seemed more flavorful under the Saucers’ roof. Michaela daintily picked up the rising, powdery yellow flesh of the potato and fed some to Theodore who always wiped his face after diligently nibbling. She cracked a smile, which is not as rare as the Fullgreens folks assume, as she saw her son maintain what little table manners he learnt from the wild.
As Abram’s family and the Hulders gathered outside to have a private picnic in the dainty plot behind Mr. Derby’s house, Abram and Gale started to argue, a typical sight to the Saucers. Although they were raising their voice against each other, they just assumed they wasn’t any serious enmity. However that didn’t keep Gale from interrogating a rather relaxed Abram who was basking in his success with a glass of pale ale he pilfered in his tin carrier from the tavern Winterdale. The ever laconic Mr. Derby just accepted some ale and went indoors. Abram’s powdered white wig was flung carelessly on the log, and the breeze blew on his perfectly shaped head. In his long, knuckled fingers, Gale was holding a glass Abram offered. They were sitting on one of the logs that fell down seven years ago due to a lightning.
Gale asked Abram how come he knew Denny Smith was the spy all along, and he just shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his pale ale, saying.
“As soon as my regiment received secret intelligence about a spy, I sent a message to the Queen’s Rangers who were stationing near Georgetown a month ago. A week ago, Smith came, bearing the seal of the royal arms, a crest with lions and lilies.”
Michaela, who was crouching over Theodore turned her head towards Gale and Abram. Abram nodded his head and his onyx eyes with eyelashes that looked like crow feathers made a rather expressive glance at Michaela who continued looking at him as if she’s seeing him from far away. He continued.
“There was really no reason to suspect Smith at first. He had full knowledge of the British military ranks and internal affairs, and his Southampton accent was a good mix between the provincial vernacular and outsiders’ tongue. His lisps were very convincing and he altered his hairline according to the dress code in the royal army.”
“which explains the soaring height of his forehead.”
“Precisely.”
Then he smiled and pointed his glass to Michaela.
“If it wasn’t for this brave young dame right here, he would have still had us by his tail!”
Still unable to understand his friend, Gale slightly furrowed his brows. Theodore was impatiently trying to dig out the root of a lone mustard flower, but Michaela was also listening to Abram.
Abram took another sip before enlightening his audience.
“You see, before the news about the rebel spy, there was a secret of even more importance delivered to the Queen’s Rangers…That his majesty was going to decree the lawlessness of the private possession of human cargo from the Africas.”
Gale raised his eyebrows and Ivory who just came holding two bowls of blackberries heard this and froze in spot.
“Now just to clarify the situation, the real head of the Queen’s Ranger, the real Denny Smith, who is dead by the way, received his royal highness’s new decree about slaves first. So the spy, who killed the real one, had no idea about this order. He was the one responsible for sending us the message about rebel infiltration. The one that got my regiment here.”
“Why would he send such a message that is half truth and half lie? He could’ve got himself caught.”
“I have no idea. It could be a stroke of pride. He thought he had us, killing the head of the Queen’s Ranger and all. So he lied about his identity and tried to make us focus on a scapegoat, in this case, he chose you, Hulder.”
With a surge of energy in her eyes that looked very much like Abram’s, Ivory exclaimed.
“This is great news, Abram. Every black man and woman in the colony should hear about this! Why didn’t you tell me in first place?”
At his sister’s accusatory tone, he just raised his left eyebrow at her and continued enjoying the mead she offered.
“Well, Ivory. This piece of information was meant to conjure the heart of cooperation, but this news must be handed to the right people at the right time. A hasty decision would prove disastrous. It would be also problematic if they attacked their white masters because they felt that the new decree justified their violence. And it is clear as daylight that the rebels have a greater reason to round up the plantation owners in an even more passionate resistance.”
Ivory didn’t have that by the sour look of judgment on her face.
Gale thought. ‘So If the American elite received news that the British were going to free their slaves, they were going to put on an even bigger fight. But that doesn’t explain how Michaela played a role in all of this. She doesn’t even know the concept of ‘slavery.’ It is a blessed curse that we live in such a small, remote area.’
As if he read Gale’s thought, Abram said.
“The spy was irked by her insistence that my sisters weren’t ‘bucks.’ Although he kept claiming that he came from Southampton, a Southern port in the isles that take in many different travelers, he used a word that is common in the South East plantations of the colony, where ‘bucks’ is synonymous with ‘cattle.’ What was damning was his ignorance of the news he should’ve known if he was the real leader of the Queen’s Rangers. He clearly didn’t know about this new law that the House banged their gavel on back in the kingdom. So I was able to tell that he was an imposter.”
Abram now really wanted to blow some pipe, so he was about to pull out his piece from his inner pocket. He caught a glance at Michaela staring at him with curious, bright dark eyes and he made a charming smile.
“Would my lady excuse me if I smoke my pipe?”
Looking a bit alarmed, she stared at him, but only Gale knew that her face always looked both permanently surprised and in charge as most rabbits do. The Fullgreens villagers would take her vigilant expression as proof that the Orients do not show emotions or even have emotions, but it all boiled down to her life long wild habits. She looked at the pipe and understanding what he meant, gesticulated in a way that implies “up, up,” which Abram interpreted as a signal to go ahead. He nodded appreciatively and went on to ignite his pipe. Much more relaxed after exhaling a wisp of smoke, he nodded in approval and continued.
“Once he found out that I was becoming suspicious, he quickly accused you of being the wanted man.”
Gale made a wry smile and Abram warmly chuckled.
“As you know, I am not a good liar.”
“Excuse me? That was not what I got by our previous encounter.”
“Well, I needed to put on a dramatic act to fool him. As soon as I felt that he was being uneasy and suspicious, I had to buy his impulsive lie that you were the suspect.”
“You could’ve got me and Michaela here killed. Dead.”
Understanding the word “dead,” Michaela blinked but then narrowed her eyes at Abram in disapproval, which failed to deliver what she desired to be an intimidating effect on this seasoned war veteran. At least she looks a lot more formidable than Gale who was a typical happy go lucky guy, he thought. Although he was impressed by how suddenly he got the will to fight back just before with the mercenaries.
“Yes, but I did tell him to just wait in your place until I got the warrant. I apologize, my dear Hulder, but making you the bait was the only way I could tie him to Fullgreens. And I do apologize most heartily to my lady.”
Despite the way he used his eyes that an English poet used to recite verses about, she maintained her glower of judgment like a stone. How she kept her stance despite his approach, which worked its magic even in the court society, made her seem insufferably prudish. He exaggerated his look of disappointment at her refusal and penance by drooping his shoulders.
“Alas, the goddess of fortune that aided me to catch this villain wouldn’t deign to even smile at me. How am I ever to live?”
In mock surprise, Gale cupped his own mouth and looked at him with innocent wide eyes.
“Oh, really, Abram? I couldn’t fathom why.”
As the two tall men continued bickering, Michaela rose and helped herself to the black berries the Saucer sisters were eating on the other side of the backyard.
***
Gale thanked Allyah for the supper, including the blackberries, and offered to take the bowls and plates to the kitchen. Ivory was following him and she suddenly said.
“I am beginning to see why you are still friends with Abram.”
At this Gale suddenly stopped in his steps. After a short minute in pause, he then turned his head and absorbing her presence with wide eyes. And then his light gold brown tresses fell close to his downcast eyes that gleamed with ironic amusement. Ivory’s eyes, dark like Michaela’s but beautiful in their own way became hostile as she stared back as she found him sometimes too cheeky to her liking.
In a guise of languid easiness that could’ve tricked anyone else but his best friend’s sharp sister, he said
“I could see why that would be a surprise. Your brother practically lives overseas.”
“You know I don’t mean by that.”
Standing on her ground tall, Ivory cornered him in a rather harsh tone, which Gale didn’t anticipate at all. He doesn’t really remember interacting with her except last year when she approached him to thank him for his recipe tea that cleared her hormone ravaged skin. He was being such a mommy when she saw her clear complexion. Much has changed since then. She was no longer a little girl he can patronize.
Slightly surprised, he merely looked at her with a closed mouth and eyes in genuine wonder of what could’ve occasioned her sudden confrontation.
“We used to be slaves before we were sold to Mr. Derby. Derby man was kind enough to give us our freedom after we served our time and letting us live as tenants, but everyone else treated us as outcasts. And by the way, you…There is a reason the town boys mocked you and Abram as salt and pepper.”
As Ivory maintained her poise while sharing her story as if she’s an outsider to all of this, Gale simply listened. Many lads, even the ones who shared her skin color, would be put off by her sudden confession of what her family used to be. In truth, everyone of them came here because of the same reason. But they acted up whenever she blurted out what was the essence of their life in the colonies. Slaves to slaves. That was what they were. As if saying the past out loud materializes the past, making it some boogey man that gulps down the living. Whenever that happened, she felt lonely, so she became an onion girl, the red crackling shells enveloping her like impenetrable lotus petals.
But Gale was different. She knew that Gale, the Gale whom she always saw behind her brother’s back–how he freely showed what’s inside his heart when least expected and became still as the silence following an echo when he ought to be emotional. How he acted as if he was an outsider to Fullgreens while he had all the assets that could make him the star of the village. And for that, to her, he seemed insufferably spoiled.
Gale himself looked strangely relieved at Ivory’s confrontation, as if he thought she might have suspected something else. He smiled coyly.
“Well, Miss. Saucer, I hope that means you bless our friendship.”
Ivory merely huffed, a gesture which managed to be endearing enough to melt boys’ hearts than look haughty or self-conceited. Gale smiled.
“Haha. My hands are bit heavy now and the bugs are biting me, so I will go inside.”
“I’ll follow you.”
He turned back in the direction to Allyah in her kitchen. His reaction, a somewhat sad smile, were be like gentle ripples caused by a teasing edge of a tongue that belongs to a wild cat. His placid face was like a fragile surface of water that she just wanted to throw rocks on in aggravation. But she didn’t want to be THAT kind of woman. She doesn’t have to stoop so low to someone as undeserving as him. Not now. Not ever.
She turned her regal head and with an air of mischief she said.
“Ah, there is Abram for you. Ever since he changed his last name, he couldn’t get his hands off what he calls the “rules of courtship.” What he drank in Versailles must have got to him. And tell your dwarf, if she is going to act the coquette, to at least smile.”
Hulder Tales 