The Fancy by Mercedes Keyes, Lawrence James Read Free Book Online

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    “Never again! Do you hear? Not ever!”
    She nodded that she heard. He turned back,
    wobbling as if unsteady on his feet, his mind tossing
    about al the possibilities, he’d never heard of a
    woman doing such a thing, it was simply unheard of
    where he’d come from. He made his way back to his
    bowl of delicious green stew, as shocked as he was,
    there was no doubt, the trip to the woods, had been
    certainly worth it. Three bowls later, quite ful – he
    went back out to see what she could possibly be
    doing al of that time. He found her in the barn,
    standing at the tack table, cleaning and preparing
    large heaps of roots and plants that were piled in a
    basket. Without thought, he reached over laying his
    palm against her forehead, checking for a fever –
    her temperature felt normal. His actions caused the
    puppy, who sat between her feet, looking out from
    beneath her gown up at him to start barking, making
    him smile. He knelt and held his hand out to it,
    looking into her basket of treasures.
    “What have you there?”
    “Stuff we gone need, when that wind get col',
    get to howlin' – folks ches’ gone get ful so they can't
    breathe, we don' eat this, we ain' gone be breathin'
    eitha’. You gots'ta help them, I gots'ta help you, keep
    you strong, so you take good care'o'me.” She went
    on gently, her voice fil ed with passion and
    determination to now start doing her part, now that
    she was back on her feet. Quinton gave the puppy's
    head another stroke, one last scratch behind the ear
    and then he stood watching her work with things
    she'd gathered from their woods, some he
    recognized, some he did not – but she knew, he
    could tel that she knew what she was doing. Funnily
    enough, after having that stew, he felt renewed,
    invigorated – his body seemed alert; while one
    hunger was indeed sated, another was coming to
    life.
    “Qu-Quinton...” She hesitated to begin.
    “Yes, Suga.” He answered softly.
    “Am I – ‘lowed to – to ask thangs o'you?”
    He smiled, “Yes, Suga, you are, and the word
    He smiled, “Yes, Suga, you are, and the word
    is allowed .”
    “Is you – you a man, o'your word?” She asked.
    His gaze was soft with longing upon her,
    leaning against the barn door, arms and ankles
    crossed; content to feast upon her gentle features
    aglow from the dim light of the lantern; he answered
    her after a bit, “I do my best, Suga, to be known as a
    man of his word, thus, I do not give it lightly.”
    She nodded, thinking about her mother's
    master. He was not a gentle man when he used her
    mother in his bed. He did things that made her cry,
    hurt her body, hurt her soul, made her ashamed to
    say what he did to her – and at times, he shared her
    with his men friends. She and her mother, had had
    no people to return to, for the Powhatan tribal people
    were no more. Scattered, their lands taken, their
    honor destroyed – few remained, those that did –
    ended up as slaves to those who owned plantations.
    Miakoda, her mother's name when with her
    people, meant power of the moon, it became Cora,
    when she became a slave to Gareth Kuiper. She
    was used to have daughters with an African slave
    Ishmael, because their daughters had a look about
    them that was breath-taking to behold and thus were
    deemed as fancies, Suga was one of them – their
    last daughter. The three sons born to them had been
    kil ed. Ishmael, her father – it was said, had gone
    mad – had run off, never to be seen again. Her
    mother, Cora, became Gareth's bedwench.
    Cora's other job, was to raise her daughters to
    become valuable fancies. She taught them the ways
    of her people, as wel the ways of surviving in the
    new white world that was growing around them; their
    taking over the land was like a plague out of control,
    with no way to stop it - taking over lands that once
    belonged to them and their forefathers, the African.
    Cora had taught them how to survive off the
    land, how to hunt, fish and how to