Mosana - Part XVIII
EPISODE 18
There were three major players in this game of chess. Well, four actually, but Jerome was only a pawn. So three major players. There was the queen; Madam Russell, the most powerful piece and the bitchiest bitch on the board. The knight; Master Wells, a worker, but an important worker, just like every knight, serving the king (or queen in this case), an instrument of war and destruction. Take the knight and you had a shot at the queen. Take the army and you had a shot at the kingdom. The rook, Amy Russell. The rook was the castle, a home, a place of refuge; in this case, Madam Russell’s only family.
The other side of the board had important and high-valued players; queen, knight, rook and even one pawn, while I on this side had just myself as queen and the rest as pawns. But that didn’t bother me. Chess was a game of stratagem, and I had plenty up my sleeves.
The plan was simple. I needed Master Wells out of that house. I knew giving him pokeweed would cause serious symptoms such as nausea, vomiting, difficulty in controlling urination and even low blood pressure and diarrhoea. These couldn’t be cured with home remedies, so I knew that the doctor would be sent for. But because of the severity of the illness the pokeweed would cause, they wouldn’t have time to wait for the doctor. The time it would take to send Jerome for the doctor and then wait for them to get back was more than just taking Master Wells straight to the doctor’s residence. I knew they would choose the latter as a more preferable option.
The only reason I needed Master Wells out of the Manor was for his newspapers. I know it seems like my measures were extreme, but I didn’t want to risk sneaking in to steal the newspapers. Master Wells watched us slaves closer than a hawk when we were in the main house and it was difficult to get past him. I couldn’t afford a failure that early in my plan. I needed the pandemonium to get what I wanted.
The newspapers were sources of vital information. With them, I could trace the locations of abolitionists around the state who could help our escape from the writers of the various columns in the paper. Most men and women who founded newspaper agencies and who wrote for them were those opposed to slavery. Non-abolitionists also owned newspapers of course, but the print media was one of the first tools the abolitionists used to speak out against enslavement. These people knew where and how to hide us.
When I was ready, I gave Gabe the quantity of pokeweed I wanted Master Wells to ingest. He gave it to his sister and just told her to put it in Master Wells tea. The eleven year old didn’t say a word and did as her big brother asked. I waited for Ari in the kitchen and took the tray of utensils from her. I quickly wiped everything clean. I washed and rinsed the cup - I didn’t want to leave any trace of evidence. Not that it could be traced back to me, but like I said earlier, I wasn’t taking chances with anything. I replaced the items myself and sent Ari off back to Master Wells. I walked out calmly from the kitchen through the slaves’ door that led out to the barn.
I waited and waited.
In a few hours, midway through the afternoon, I had the desired results.
I saw Ari running like the wind, no doubt on Madam Russell’s orders, to the left side of the house, where I knew Jerome’s quarters were.
And there was only reason, knowing what I knew then, why the coachman would have been sent for.
I watched in glee as Jerome saddled the horses and brought them to the back of the house, in between the main house and the field, and then hurried inside to get Master Wells. I guessed the road through the back gates was closer to the doctor’s residence than going through the front. I saw Master Wells half carried on Jerome’s back as he was dragged to the carriage. He didn’t look alright. The pokeweed worked better than I thought it would. From what I could see through my window at the slave’s quarters, the same window I had watched Flint get sold from, I observed that Master Wells had difficulty standing. He was shivering and sweating at the same time and looked like he was wetting and shitting himself at the same time too.
I watched Madam Russell bark orders at poor Ari who struggled to clean up where Master Wells had vomited all over Jerome. Amy just stood helplessly by, watching the whole scene like I was, but with less glee. Finally, the horse-driven carriage rolled out of the Manor through the back gates. I tore my eyes away from the window and sank down on the floor. I smiled.
This was good, I thought. This was really good.
At that moment, I felt powerful. I did this, I said to myself. The feeling of satisfaction that overcame me at seeing my plan come together was unlike anything I had ever felt. I was in control of my fate once again.
But I couldn’t rejoice just yet. I wasn’t out of the Manor and Master Wells’ diarrhoea was only the beginning. There was a lot more to execute if I was to have my freedom.
Which brought me to phase two: it was time to infiltrate Master Wells’ room.
The very next day, I kicked phase two into gear.
After serving Madam Russell her usual morning tea, I made for Master Wells’ quarters with the tray of utensils still in my hands. I couldn’t drop it in the kitchen first; Master Wells’ room was before the kitchen. I couldn’t risk staying in the house too long, in case Amy or her mother began to wander about. I was expected to go straight to my chores in the field after serving Madam her morning tea. It would look suspicious if I were to be found loitering.
I hastened my footsteps while walking lightly, to where I was headed. I pushed open the door as quietly as I could and went in. Resisting the urge to look around, I went straight to the wall of shelves that acted as Master Wells’ mini library. I pulled out his chair from his study desk and used it to hoist myself up to the top of the shelves where Master Wells stored his old and read newspapers. I pulled out about five or six and got down. I rubbed the chair of dust off my feet and replaced it in exactly the position I had retrieved it.
I was still adjusting the chair in the position I had taken it from, when I noticed something on Master Wells’ desk. A slim black notebook lay on it. I don’t know if it was the shiny leather cover that drew my attention, but I just knew the book was important.
I picked it up and opened it. It was a diary.
Master Wells’ diary.
It had notes dated several months back in Master Wells’ neat handwriting. I skipped to the most current entries. The last entry was dated the day I poisoned him. But it was incomplete. It looked like he was in the process of writing when the poison kicked in. I flipped the page back to the previous entry. Mostly boring stuff. I guess it was very unexciting being a butler. I flipped back once more. This entry was dated four days earlier.
What I read there was enough to weaken me. I sat down in Master Wells’ chair and fastened my eyes to the interesting page in his diary.
“...like I want her to. She doesn’t even look me in the eyes. If only she knew how I felt. If only she would give me a chance. I thought I could finally have her when John was killed. But she has only ever been in love with that wretch. I love her! More than that bastard ever could. And now, even in death, he still keeps her from me. I could be so much more than her butler. But she doesn’t see. Even her daughter, Amy, disregards me. But I wouldn’t mind that, if only Susan could love me…”
My heart beat wildly as I read. This was too much. I wondered at my next course of action in the new light of this development. But I couldn’t decide there and then.
With alarm, I realised I had been in the house for too long. I was at risk of being found. Hastily, I stuffed the newspapers and diary up my skirt, took my tray, and dashed out the door, trying to shut it as quietly as possible.
I had forgotten about the chair.
I hurried through the corridors as fast as I could with one thought in my head:
Master Wells was in love with Madam Russell.
There were three major players in this game of chess. Well, four actually, but Jerome was only a pawn. So three major players. There was the queen; Madam Russell, the most powerful piece and the bitchiest bitch on the board. The knight; Master Wells, a worker, but an important worker, just like every knight, serving the king (or queen in this case), an instrument of war and destruction. Take the knight and you had a shot at the queen. Take the army and you had a shot at the kingdom. The rook, Amy Russell. The rook was the castle, a home, a place of refuge; in this case, Madam Russell’s only family.
The other side of the board had important and high-valued players; queen, knight, rook and even one pawn, while I on this side had just myself as queen and the rest as pawns. But that didn’t bother me. Chess was a game of stratagem, and I had plenty up my sleeves.
The plan was simple. I needed Master Wells out of that house. I knew giving him pokeweed would cause serious symptoms such as nausea, vomiting, difficulty in controlling urination and even low blood pressure and diarrhoea. These couldn’t be cured with home remedies, so I knew that the doctor would be sent for. But because of the severity of the illness the pokeweed would cause, they wouldn’t have time to wait for the doctor. The time it would take to send Jerome for the doctor and then wait for them to get back was more than just taking Master Wells straight to the doctor’s residence. I knew they would choose the latter as a more preferable option.
The only reason I needed Master Wells out of the Manor was for his newspapers. I know it seems like my measures were extreme, but I didn’t want to risk sneaking in to steal the newspapers. Master Wells watched us slaves closer than a hawk when we were in the main house and it was difficult to get past him. I couldn’t afford a failure that early in my plan. I needed the pandemonium to get what I wanted.
The newspapers were sources of vital information. With them, I could trace the locations of abolitionists around the state who could help our escape from the writers of the various columns in the paper. Most men and women who founded newspaper agencies and who wrote for them were those opposed to slavery. Non-abolitionists also owned newspapers of course, but the print media was one of the first tools the abolitionists used to speak out against enslavement. These people knew where and how to hide us.
When I was ready, I gave Gabe the quantity of pokeweed I wanted Master Wells to ingest. He gave it to his sister and just told her to put it in Master Wells tea. The eleven year old didn’t say a word and did as her big brother asked. I waited for Ari in the kitchen and took the tray of utensils from her. I quickly wiped everything clean. I washed and rinsed the cup - I didn’t want to leave any trace of evidence. Not that it could be traced back to me, but like I said earlier, I wasn’t taking chances with anything. I replaced the items myself and sent Ari off back to Master Wells. I walked out calmly from the kitchen through the slaves’ door that led out to the barn.
I waited and waited.
In a few hours, midway through the afternoon, I had the desired results.
I saw Ari running like the wind, no doubt on Madam Russell’s orders, to the left side of the house, where I knew Jerome’s quarters were.
And there was only reason, knowing what I knew then, why the coachman would have been sent for.
I watched in glee as Jerome saddled the horses and brought them to the back of the house, in between the main house and the field, and then hurried inside to get Master Wells. I guessed the road through the back gates was closer to the doctor’s residence than going through the front. I saw Master Wells half carried on Jerome’s back as he was dragged to the carriage. He didn’t look alright. The pokeweed worked better than I thought it would. From what I could see through my window at the slave’s quarters, the same window I had watched Flint get sold from, I observed that Master Wells had difficulty standing. He was shivering and sweating at the same time and looked like he was wetting and shitting himself at the same time too.
I watched Madam Russell bark orders at poor Ari who struggled to clean up where Master Wells had vomited all over Jerome. Amy just stood helplessly by, watching the whole scene like I was, but with less glee. Finally, the horse-driven carriage rolled out of the Manor through the back gates. I tore my eyes away from the window and sank down on the floor. I smiled.
This was good, I thought. This was really good.
At that moment, I felt powerful. I did this, I said to myself. The feeling of satisfaction that overcame me at seeing my plan come together was unlike anything I had ever felt. I was in control of my fate once again.
But I couldn’t rejoice just yet. I wasn’t out of the Manor and Master Wells’ diarrhoea was only the beginning. There was a lot more to execute if I was to have my freedom.
Which brought me to phase two: it was time to infiltrate Master Wells’ room.
The very next day, I kicked phase two into gear.
After serving Madam Russell her usual morning tea, I made for Master Wells’ quarters with the tray of utensils still in my hands. I couldn’t drop it in the kitchen first; Master Wells’ room was before the kitchen. I couldn’t risk staying in the house too long, in case Amy or her mother began to wander about. I was expected to go straight to my chores in the field after serving Madam her morning tea. It would look suspicious if I were to be found loitering.
I hastened my footsteps while walking lightly, to where I was headed. I pushed open the door as quietly as I could and went in. Resisting the urge to look around, I went straight to the wall of shelves that acted as Master Wells’ mini library. I pulled out his chair from his study desk and used it to hoist myself up to the top of the shelves where Master Wells stored his old and read newspapers. I pulled out about five or six and got down. I rubbed the chair of dust off my feet and replaced it in exactly the position I had retrieved it.
I was still adjusting the chair in the position I had taken it from, when I noticed something on Master Wells’ desk. A slim black notebook lay on it. I don’t know if it was the shiny leather cover that drew my attention, but I just knew the book was important.
I picked it up and opened it. It was a diary.
Master Wells’ diary.
It had notes dated several months back in Master Wells’ neat handwriting. I skipped to the most current entries. The last entry was dated the day I poisoned him. But it was incomplete. It looked like he was in the process of writing when the poison kicked in. I flipped the page back to the previous entry. Mostly boring stuff. I guess it was very unexciting being a butler. I flipped back once more. This entry was dated four days earlier.
What I read there was enough to weaken me. I sat down in Master Wells’ chair and fastened my eyes to the interesting page in his diary.
“...like I want her to. She doesn’t even look me in the eyes. If only she knew how I felt. If only she would give me a chance. I thought I could finally have her when John was killed. But she has only ever been in love with that wretch. I love her! More than that bastard ever could. And now, even in death, he still keeps her from me. I could be so much more than her butler. But she doesn’t see. Even her daughter, Amy, disregards me. But I wouldn’t mind that, if only Susan could love me…”
My heart beat wildly as I read. This was too much. I wondered at my next course of action in the new light of this development. But I couldn’t decide there and then.
With alarm, I realised I had been in the house for too long. I was at risk of being found. Hastily, I stuffed the newspapers and diary up my skirt, took my tray, and dashed out the door, trying to shut it as quietly as possible.
I had forgotten about the chair.
I hurried through the corridors as fast as I could with one thought in my head:
Master Wells was in love with Madam Russell.
_____________________________________________________
Hey you!
I'm so sorry this installment came late. I'm up to my neck in work, research and you know what. But Mosana came through!
Many thanks to those who have been keeping with the Kardashians... err, I mean, with Mosana.
Stay cool, and stay single.
I'm kidding. Get out there. Don't be like me, who sits inside all day, writing Mosana ;)
Till next Sunday,
xoxo,
Ava.
Thank you for this beautiful piece. God bless you dear
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