Counter to Aggie’s assumption, Samuel did not consider this child to be his kin, no matter her connection to Nick. To himself, he denied that she was the progeny of his own action. She was light-brown-skinned, not white, and thus removed from him. This lack of filial consequence was normal to Samuel, for he did not even love his children by Lady; not only did Victor look like Samuel’s despised father, but also, Gloria was very odd, and this made her damaged in her father’s eyes.
Samuel only loved Nick. He only craved his return of affection. He did not know why, but it was so. And since he made his own rules and own shining moral circle to shield himself, he decided that Eliza Two was a random Negro child. Yet Samuel was not completely senseless: he knew that Nick would feel differently. Though he had the power over his son, he did not want to test Nick’s hand, for Samuel had seen his son and Tess and the little girls walking on Sundays. The way the girls ran and skipped before returning to the parents. Sometimes Nick would pick up the girls and carry one in each arm, no matter how large they were becoming, and kiss each child upon her cheek. And Samuel would smile, not at this show of paternal warmth, but rather marveling at the strength in Nick’s arms.
Samuel kept his intentions quiet: he didn’t move Eliza Two into the left cabin as his Young Friend. Rather, he kept her in the big house, sleeping under his own roof. Between this and the lies and manipulations he planned to use to control her, he believed that these things would maintain his secret. And he began stalking Eliza Two, coming upon her in the hallways, as she ran errands for her young mistress. She would curtsy and keep her eyes to the floor—as she had been taught—and Samuel would pull one of Eliza Two’s long braids in a teasing way. He gave her candy and each Saturday, a half dime to save, telling her she was born to greater things, for she was the most beautiful girl he ever had seen. After each compliment or gift, Samuel reminded Eliza Two not to tell anyone of their conversations. Because they weren’t as special as she was, no one would understand the bond that she shared with her master.
Eliza Two had been reminded by her grandmother to obey the white occupants in the big house, and so the child did not report their interactions. She’d heard that Samuel was a cruel man as well, so his behavior confused the child. He seemed so kind to her. So gentle, and he was very handsome. Up close, his resemblance to her father soothed her, and yet it was confusing, for she did not know that Samuel had sired Nick. Even more intoxicating than the gifts of food, candy, and money, Samuel dangled freedom above Eliza Two’s reach, promising her that if she served him well, and fulfilled all that he required of her, one day he not only would free her, but he would build a great house for her to live and raise her family in. He repeated, never tell anyone of his gifts, and especially, she should not tell her father; otherwise, Samuel would change his mind and Eliza Two would never be free. Eliza Two believed there would be happy endings for her, as in that book Gloria read aloud, showing her the tower where a girl with long hair lived. Her hair was even longer than Aggie’s, and Gloria would ask, “Do you see her hair? Do you see her hair? Do you see her hair? Do you see her hair?” And every time, Eliza Two would answer, “Yes, Missy. I sees it.”
Yet Samuel had not calculated the closeness between twins, that children who had shared a womb, had shared a unique language even before they were born, had a connection that others could not grasp. Thus, whenever Samuel caught Eliza Two in the hallway and plied her with candy and promises, Rabbit would have a stomachache, though she was a distance away that spanned the length of the big house, through the outside walkway, and into the kitchen house. And one Sunday evening when the twins were playing their hand games alone in the yard, Rabbit asked Eliza Two, did she have some secrets? It had been a common question between them, since they had been little. Remembering the warning of her master, Eliza Two tried to evade, but her twin pressed on, and soon, demanding Rabbit’s confidence, Eliza Two began to prattle about Samuel’s promises and her dreams for a better day.
And the next day, she came down to the kitchen house and motioned Rabbit into the pantry. She pulled Samuel’s candy from the pocket of her dress, offering it to Rabbit. Eliza Two told her there was a store of half dimes that she had buried, and these were Rabbit’s as well. As their grandmother had many times, Rabbit lectured Eliza Two about eating food that had been prepared by hands she did not know, hands that might have been unwashed or in service to the Devil, who knew many languages spoken in many tongues. Eliza Two laughed, insisting that she had eaten of Samuel’s candy many times and had not been struck ill or dead. Finally, Rabbit took the offered candy but protested that she was too full of the midday meal to eat it then. She said she would eat the candy later, when her appetite returned. When her sister left the kitchen house, Rabbit threw the candy in the scrap bucket that Venie kept for Pompey; the contents of this bucket was used to feed the hogs. Then Rabbit washed her hands several times in the bowl of clean water that Venie kept in the kitchen. Later, when Eliza Two would ask, had Samuel’s candy been to her liking? Rabbit would assure her how delicious it was and that she was grateful for Eliza Two’s kindness in sharing. She would rub her belly so that Eliza Two would believe she was telling her the truth. They would embrace and kiss cheeks, these little girls who had held hands in Tess’s womb.