A Cry at Midnight by Victoria Chancellor Read Free Book Online Page A

there?"
    "So's I can help you dress," she explained, struggling to her feet.
    "You have to lie in the floor?"
    "Yes, ma'am. That's the way we do these things."
    "But that's so uncomfortable!" Randi shook her head. "Never mind. I shouldn't say a word. Where you sleep is your business."
    "No, ma'am. The mas'r had me sleep here. Lebeau tol' me so hisself."
    "Lebeau?"
    "He's in charge in the house, ma'am."
    "That will be all, Melody."
    "Yes, Mr. Lebeau." The girl lowered her eyes, standing at the doorway as though she was a part of the furnishings. Randi's heart went out to her. How could everyone be treated so . . . indifferently? This whole system sucked. No wonder they'd had a big war over the issue of slavery.
    Even though Lebeau was also black, he didn't treat the servants any nicer than the "the master." God, she hated that word!
    "I need her to help me dress," Randi said, standing a little straighter and jutting out her chin, "then I want to see Mr. Durant."
    "Mister Jackson is downstairs. I'll see if he's available."
    "Don't bother," Randi said. "I'd rather surprise him."
    The tall black man raised his chin, looking down at her as though she'd just suggested grabbing a few beers with the queen. He looked a lot like Morgan Freeman, especially in that movie that was out last winter about the slaves who wanted to go back to Africa.
    "Melody, help Miss Galloway with her needs. I'll escort you downstairs when you are ready," he said before retreating down the hallway.
    As soon as he was out of earshot, Randi pulled the girl inside the room, then kicked off the tight slippers. "Okay, just who is he and what's he like?"
    "You want to know about Mr. Lebeau, ma'am?" Melody asked, confusing obvious on her expressive face.
    "Of course. Haven't you ever heard that you should know your enemies? I'm not sure why, but I think Lebeau is not real happy with me." Or maybe he just didn't know how to treat her--another servant or a guest? She didn't know the answer to that question either.
    "Yes, ma'am."
    "Are you just being polite or do you actually agree with me?"
    "Ma'am?" Melody asked in a bewildered tone.
    "Never mind," Randi said, presenting her back. Just help me get fixed up for my next interrogation by Mr. Durant." She ran her fingers through her short, streaked blond strands. There was nothing she could do about her hair, but maybe he'd overlook that one twentieth century style if the rest of her looked more "respectable."
    Melody lit several candles, then went to work on dressing Randi properly. While the servant adjusted the skirt over the layers of petticoats, Randi wiggled her feet inside the too-narrow shoes, wondering if there was a shoemaker around who could stretch them out. Wondering how long she'd have to tolerate these uncomfortable clothes and the angry man who thought her unfit. Before she could dwell too long on the depressing topic of being lost in the past, she was combed, corseted, laced, tied, and buttoned.
    Melody stepped back, her hands folded demurely. Randi's heart went out to her in ways the girl would never understand. How could she explain to a slave in the 1800's that she couldn't tolerate these conditions, and that she didn't believe any of them should be expected to tolerate them either. No one should be considered inferior because of their race or the circumstances of their birth.
    Randi felt like hugging the girl. Instead, she smiled and said, "Thank you again. I wouldn't be able to do this without your skills."
    Melody looked up for only a second, but Randi could tell she was surprised by the kindness. Didn't anyone ever praise the people on this plantation? Was everyone as harsh and unhappy as Jackson Durant and his henchman, Lebeau?
    She had a good mind to march downstairs and tell him exactly what she thought of his tactics. But that wouldn't gain her what she needed, and she doubted her opinion would sway him even a tiny bit. With a sigh, she headed for the door.
    As she expected, the tall black