Mistress Victoria remained very fond of Mary and had started teaching her to read and write over the last several winters. John Anderson had thrown a fit, but Victoria stood firm and got her way, as she always had. She sat with Mary in the late afternoons each cold winter day and taught her how to read the primers. Mary was a quick and bright student and reveled in the forbidden knowledge. She felt nervous when the master stopped by to watch and listen. She didn’t look at him.
The mistress gave Mary a bible and bid her to read it and learn from it. At night, Mary sat by the fire and read the bible to her mother, Patina, Liza and to Nan. Nan had four small children, all boys, who sat and listened to the wonderful bible stories. Nan was pregnant with her fifth, she was a prolific mother. Gabe was a strutting peacock, happy and content with his growing family. While Mary read to them, they would card wool or knit for the during the long winter months.
Mary had been forbidden to teach any of the other slaves, the master had pulled her aside.
“Mary, I know your mistress wants you to read and write and I guess she’ll get her way. But Mary, don’t you dare teach any of the others to read or write. The law frowns upon it.” His words sent cold dread cascading down her body and she didn’t look at him.
“Yes suh, Massa Anderson, I know I am learnin’ special. I won’t teach no one, suh.” Mary said softly to her master, fearing he would forbid her from further learning. That had been all he said to her four years ago, and she remembered it clearly. She wouldn’t betray that trust, for if she did, she knew he would sell her quickly; he always got rid of trouble makers. Mary was learning to live her life with caution, knowing her well-being was precarious at best.
Victoria also cultivated Mary’s speech, when Mary was in the house, she had to speak properly.
“You’ll act as my lady’s maid, besides your house keeping duties.” By the time she was fourteen, Mary’s speech was as polished as her mistress’. Mary was a quick study as well as an excellent mimic, and could sound like Victoria at times. Theo teased her about it. She would fall back to her old speech habits when she was alone with her mother and friends. She could switch fluidly between the two fashions, she called it her upper crust talk. Mary felt uncomfortable speaking formally around those she loved, and she was careful how she spoke around other whites.
Clark called her an uppity nigger, but still watched her furtively. Clark was careful however; he knew Mary was the mistress’ favorite. Mary could feel his eyes burning into her back and she feared him. She never strayed from the main house and Mary always hurried straight home in the evening. She didn’t want to be caught out at night with Clark around. With her breasts bound tight, she still looked like a little girl, her face smooth and round.
Dark Henry had grown into a handsome and strong young man; he had started apprenticing under Gabe at the smithy. Henry had always had an affinity for Mary, but now that she was reaching womanhood, his fancy ran along the line of obsession. He was always watching her and mooning over her. Dark Henry became tongue tied around Mary and the older women tittered at his awkwardness. His dark handsome face glowed with embarrassment.
Henry came to Mary’s cabin one evening in late summer, asking Ida if he could court her daughter. A smile threatened to break out on Ida’s solemn face as she looked into the earnest and serious face of the young man. His hands were twisting and strangling a bouquet of wildflowers he had picked. Taking pity on the poor thing, Ida invited him into the small cabin. Mary was sitting at the table snapping beans; when Mary looked up, she was torn between startled embarrassment and delight. This was the first time one of the men had taken interest in her and she liked Dark Henry very much. He had been one of her playmates during her first years. He had watched over her when she grew older. Suddenly, she was shy and painfully aware of her bound breasts.
Smoothing back her braided hair, she waited for her mother to let the young man pass through the threshold. She sat as calmly as she could, when Dark Henry came into her home. Her heart was suddenly pounding hard in her chest and she felt her face tingle. Henry walked up to her and handed over the devastated flowers.
“I pick these here flowers; they is perdy as you is. I remembered you like black eye Suzie.” Henry said his deep voice cracking and he cleared his throat.
Mary was flattered, and looked up at him, as though seeing Henry for the first time. She’d never before realized how broad his shoulders were and how tall and handsome, he was. Mary looked at Henry through the eyes of a young woman, just waking from a long slumber. Mary accepted the broken flowers graciously, smiling and indicating the only other chair in the room.
“Please, sit down Henry.” She said quietly. Dark Henry loved the way Mary spoke; it was smooth to the ears and soft like a