Read Online The Handsome Road by Gwen Bristow - Free Book Online Page B

kitchen-house. Half a dozen pickaninnies, clustering around the kitchen door in hope of handouts, shouted “Howdy, Miss Ann,” as she approached. “Hello,” said Ann, grinning upon them and reflecting that she’d at least make a nice mother, for she adored children. Going in to see the cook, she received an elaborate scolding for being unwilling to wait for dinner, but eventually was given some hot biscuits spread with peach preserves. Munching, Ann went back through the house to where black Plato waited by the carriage-block.
    Plato helped her mount and got on his own horse to follow her. They rode to the end of the avenue, where the wide iron gates stood open. A plantation wagon was about to pass. As Ann approached, a white man astride a mule alongside the wagon yelled at the Negro driver.
    “Hey, you dirty black nigger! Let the lady go by, damn your hide!”
    Ann winced. She hated to hear people howl at Negroes. As she slowed her horse she spoke distantly.
    “I can pass quite easily, thank you.”
    The white man gave her a searching impertinent look, his eyes going up and down her as if she were standing up at the market for sale. He had a flat red face and little nasty black eyes, like a side of beef with two raisins stuck in it. As he took off his hat she observed that his fingers were thick, and there were drops of sweat among the hairs on the back of his hand. Bowing with what was meant to be an ingratiating smile, he said,
    “My respects, ma’am. Could I make so bold as to ask if I’m having the honor to speak to Miss Sheramy?”
    His manner was oily, and he talked through his nose in the fashion of uncultured people from New England and upstate New York.
    “Yes, I am Miss Sheramy,” she returned, and tried to get by him, but he had moved his mule inconveniently in her way.
    “Howdy do, ma’am,” he said, bowing again. “I’m Gilday, come to oversee your pa’s cotton. Pleased to make your acquaintance, I’m sure.” He wet his lips, his eyes going over her again. Ann started and felt her nostrils quivering with disgust.
    “Will you please let me get by?” she exclaimed.
    “Why sure, ma’am. Always your servant, ma’am.” He moved the mule a trifle, and without answering she struck her horse and rushed past. Though she was going away from him as fast as she could she still had a feeling that his eyes were on her, stroking her up and down. Ann shivered and felt nauseated. So that was the new overseer. Well, he wouldn’t be here long. A suggestion to Jerry or her father of how he had examined her and Gilday would be off the plantation before they got in the crop.
    As she went around a turn in the road she slowed her horse. The road lay between the cottonfields, with big trees edging it and hanging long streamers of gray moss above her head. Far away across the fields she could see the green slope of the levee curving with the river. How fast the cotton was growing! How fast everything grew here on these thick velvet acres under the levee. The cotton with its bursting bolls and dangling pink and white blossoms seemed so rich and still, so serenely untroubled by the low-down ways of overseers. She felt her angry spirit relaxing before the quiet peace of the land.
    As Plato caught up with her he spoke.
    “Miss Ann?”
    “Yes?”
    “Dat new overseer. He ain’t no ’count.”
    “Oh, don’t talk about him,” said Ann. “He won’t last long.”
    “No’m.” Plato dropped behind her again and she rode on. The highway wound like a sun-dappled gray ribbon under the trees. She felt pleasantly peaceful again, and she pushed Gilday into the back of her head to wait there until she could tell Jerry what a disgusting creature he was. In spite of meeting him, she was glad she had come outdoors. The abundant life of the midsummer fields always delighted her. The pomegranate trees that marked the division between Silverwood and Ardeith were flaming with crimson blooms. As she passed the line she heard