 |
|||||||||||||
 |
|
 |
|||||||||||
 |
 |
||||||||||||
The scent of autumn wafted into the house, winter would follow soon. The yearly cycle was a relief to the people of Marionville, Georgia. The huge houses would moan and sigh, protesting the weather, but soon they would fall silent and peaceful, adjusting as they always did. The homes were like the people: constant, old-fashioned and aloof. Each of the thirty old plantation homes of Marionville was well over a hundred years old, one of the first settlements in the south after colonization. And they all came complete with a soft-spoken family, a cemetary and a family servant that devoted their lives to the family and home as if God had forced them to sign a contract of indentured servitude before they had even been born. Lola was the large mulatto woman who had been patting the backs of colicky babies, sweeping dusty corners and looking away at the indiscreet(at least to her) comings and goings of the teenage children, visiting sweethearts. She was also there when those same children married, listened to their lovemaking in the bedroom upstairs and when the young, frightened wives needed the hand of a mulatto to squeeze. In Marionville, a mulatto was the most comforting sight for the people when they were at their lowest. Often, they had been tended more by mulattos than their own mothers, who cried out for the same form of attention. Lola was nearing her sixtieth birthday and had been brewing various poultices, potions and remedies for the family since she was ten years old.Her first Young Miss was now forty herself and beginning to feel old age, and the current Young Miss was about to become a Young Ma'am. Simone Barbareaux was going to marry Thomas Colville in the morning, and Lola could hear Simone stirring upstairs. She would be slipping out to the barn now, where the stableboy lived. Peter was sixteen, and Simone had caught his eye a few months ago, trying to think of herself as a sweet coquette once more, and not a young lady about to be married to the love of her life. LOoa sighed and shuffled into the kitchen, readying the brew that would render Miss Simone from becoming pregnant. She would serve it to her tomorrow morning in her tea, and none would be the wiser. Lola had a reputation to keep, and if Rosie down the road a few miles heard of Miss Simone being in the family way, Lola wouldn't have any ammunition against the younger and more resilient woman. Rosie was the daughter of the recently deceased Big Rose, a formidable woman who had been good friends with Lola's own mother. Miss Simone was coming down the stairs now. Lola backed into a corner and with one blink of her eyes, cast a veil around herself. Miss Simone poked her pretty dark head into the kitchen, and satisfied, ducked out of the backdoor, leaving it open a tad so she could come back inside without disturbing anyone. Lola knew what Peter was doing, grooming Miss Simone's pretty gray mare, hoping she would come, pretending the mare's sleek withers were Simone's own thighs. Lola blinked again, and she could now see her reflection in the polished pots and pans hanging on the kitchen wall. She sat down at the chair and began sorting her herbs. When that was done, she started a pot of water to boil. While waiting for the bubbles to appear, she cleared her mind and concentrated on Miss Simone. Simmone crossed the yard silently, the chilly night making her hair stand on end. Peter stood in the doorway, waiting for her, she knew. She went to him, and offered her ahdn in supplication. Peter didn't speak, just pulled her inside. Peter had tumbled a few girls in other towns before, but Simone had been the most beautiful and refined. Peter was a long, muscled boy who spoke more easily to horses than he did to his own kind, black or white. Peter was a mulatto, but could easily pass for white, which was how he had gotten this position. Lola in the house knew, but then Peter suspected she knew everything that went on in the Barbareaux home. Simone kissed him delicately, and Peter felt swept away on a breeze of fifty thousand dazzling red and black butterflies. Simone was proportioned like her mare, Seabreeze. Short of limb, but delicate with wide set eyes. Simone was not as beautiful as she liked to think, but she was graceful and covered the distance between the house and the stable very quickly, much like her horse did the trails through the woods. They had made love inside the woods very many times, but Peter had never dared to penetrate her. She would be a virgin bride, because his death was certain if her husband suspected a mulatto stableboy had gotten to Simone before him. Peter would tease her with his mouth and tongue, completely disappearing beneath her voluminous skirts. To the casual observer, Simone was lying on the ground, enjoying the cool forest and breathing a tad heavily from her ride. Now, Simone grabbed his cock first, which she usually did not do. Simone was still a shy southern belle, but because Peter had been raised in a home where women were treasured and revered, he did not mind making her happy. "Peter, this is our last time. I want to know you." "Shh, Miss Simone." He shushed her and gathered her hips to him, letting her feel his desire. Then he picked her up, hooking her legs around him. Their clothing would stay on, and Peter would make love to her. It wouldn't be the same, but an inexperienced girl such as she would be delighted with this new development in their love play. "No, I want you. Not this false thing." Simone knelt and slid his trousers down, tracing his penis with her lovely fingernails. Peter moaned and wanted it depserately, but he had held himself this long, he could hold himself now. "Miss Simone, my head for you not being a virgin on your wedding night, my darling. We must contain ourselves." "Then I will come to you after he is finished. He will never know." "You will be too sore." "I'll never be sore for this. I've been waiting months, and I am an old lady as it is. Please." "I am much younger than you, and will not have my body swinging from a tree for you. I'll leave tonight." "You cannot, you'll never get far without a horse, and you'll be killed for horse theft as well as dishonoring a lady of my status." It occurred to Peter that she had known of his heritage all along, perhaps was the only one to know beside Lola. It then occurred to him that Simone was threatening him, and he was lost either way. Unless he took her with him, but left her a few towns ahead. Then, Peter decided to please her and grant her wish. Simone cried for a long time after, until Peter took her in his arms and promised to take her with him after he left at dawn the next morning. It was then that she finished crying. Lola woke from her reverie and shook her head. Her granddaughter Rennie was lying in bed. Rennie was more than ready to take care of the Barbareaux family. In fact, she was stronger than Lola now. Lola knew it was time. She packed her things and sat outside the stable until Simone and Peter were finished. Simone didn't see her outside, but Peter came out a few minutes later to sniff the autumn air. "Boy, I'm going with you. You won't hurt my Miss Simone. I'm the best this family has, and I'm going to heal this hurt you two made." She told him, and Peter stared. "I suppose you'll be the only one to be able to abort the baby, if there is one, and the only one to heal Miss Simone from the shame. We're going to marry in Atlanta. I'll get a job working at the racetrack." "I was hoping you had a plan of some kind, cause I ain't been to Atlanta since I was sold up north to here when I was a girl. You should've ignored Miss Simone and went for Rennie, she was batting eyes at you." Lola sighed heavily. "Rennie is half white too, your children would've been better off than the ones you two will have." Lola heard Miss Simone before she saw her. "Lola, what are you doing here?" "Watching you, baby. I can't let you go so fast." Lola hugged her, banishing Miss Simone's shame. God forbid the poor thing realize how truly mixed up she was. Dawn came faster than any of them thought, and they all set off in the cart Peter hitched up to the drafthorse gelding with two horses tethered behind. The October morning was colder than the one before, and it was then that Lola knew winter had fallen finally upon Marionville. Post a comment in response: |
| © 2002-2008. Blurty Journal. All rights reserved. |