Home > Books > The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois(279)

The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois(279)

Author:Honoree Fanonne Jeffers

It had been unusually wet that spring, and Samuel had forgotten to remind Pompey to prune back their branches, to keep the moisture from setting in. When Samuel confronted him, enraged over the loss of his most precious food, Pompey defended himself by reminding his owner that the last time he had pruned without permission, his master had slapped him and ordered Venie to take away his supper for two days.

Not only that, but even if Samuel wanted to lower his standards by eating peach preserves, there had been thefts and vandalism in the storehouse: some scallywag had broken the lock on the storehouse, taken the hams, and smashed the crocks of peaches. He’d ordered Pompey to rough up a few men to find the culprit, but bruises and loosened teeth had not encouraged confessions. Samuel was gloomy, recalling past encounters with his beloved peaches, and he gained more heft around his stomach because, though he ate second and third portions of his meals, nothing could fill the nostalgic hole.

Rabbit was his savior, distinguishing herself by making fresh blackberry cobbler for dessert, a dish with a subtle sprinkling of sugar and eastern spices. She had learned how to make Venie’s French crust, too, which was good because that summer, the senior cook was pregnant and heavy on her feet. Other than the children, every resident on the farm knew that Holcomb Byrd James was the father of the child that Venie expected. Samuel did not approve, but he reasoned that a good overseer was hard to find.

The night that fire came to Wood Place, Rabbit outdid herself with a particularly brilliant blackberry cobbler, which only Samuel ate. When she’d served a bowl of cobbler to Grace, Samuel made pejorative comments that she needed to watch her weight. Maybe if she did, her husband would give her a child. Thus Grace pushed her bowl away. Victor was at the table, but he did not defend his wife, nor eat dessert. Lady was upstairs, lying down; she had not gotten past the death of her daughter so easily.

When the shouts of fire began, Victor would be on one of his long sojourns into the woods. He wouldn’t hear the commotion, nor would the Franklins on the far end of the plantation, though considering how the Pinchards had treated them, they probably wouldn’t have tried to put out the flames even if they had. Nor would Lady or Grace be concerned; Grace would knock loudly on her mother-in-law’s door, shouting, come! Come and see! And she and Lady would stand together at the window in their nightgowns, watching the fire that was consuming the left cabin, grateful that the cursed place was being destroyed. Some moments later, Lady would hear Samuel screaming and encounter him crawling on the floor of the hall outside his bedroom, vivid effluvia staining the white linen of his pants. Before leaving him in the hallway to whatever fate God decided, she spat upon his face. Though he survived, Lady’s redress would remain her secret, as a fever overtook Samuel for several days and he would not remember her affront.

In the overseer’s cabin, Holcomb awoke and heard screams, but settled in deeper, his hand on the hill of Venie’s stomach. He refused to leave her in the night. Venie had not worked for more than two or three hours a day in the kitchen as she waited for the birth of their child. Thus, she had not seen Rabbit uncork a jug of pokeberry wine and mix the contents into fresh, sugared blackberries before placing the lattice of crust on top, though that wouldn’t have bothered Venie. And Rabbit had stolen other jugs containing scuppernong brandy. Before starting the fire, she and Leena would kneel and pray to God. Then they would douse the furniture, curtains, and bedding in the left cabin, and a delicious smell would rise on the wind when the flames took hold.

The Quarters-folks and the members of Rabbit’s family would come out of their cabins and see the flames darting. Then all of them would turn and go back inside.

A Meeting at the Crossroads

The same evening of the fire in the left cabin, Matthew had decided to leave the south forever. He’d planned to drive his wagon to the train station, where he would travel by rail to the coast and then take a steamship north.

Not only was he heartbroken over the loss of Rabbit, Matthew had unsettling visions ever since the auction in Savannah. He would dream of disembodied breasts suckling infants who turned into skeletons, and songs that seemed instantly familiar, but which he’d never heard. He would awaken in time to see the apparition of a small Negro man running from his room. Things had worsened until Matthew began to hear the scuttling of shoes in daytime moments.

Yet he was filled with gratitude after receiving a letter from his sister. Deborah had invited him to visit her in Boston, and Matthew had written her to accept. When he arrived, he intended to send his deed to Jeremiah Franklin, his sometime overseer, whose nature was better suited to this land. Matthew knew he should have a care for his slaves, as Jeremiah was cruel, but it was past the time for salvation. Already, Matthew had aligned himself with the Devil, by partaking in the purchase of flesh. He had betrayed Rabbit and insulted her. He didn’t deserve the blessing of such a woman.