Just as Joseph was dreaming of the good life, his thoughts were interrupted by the senator.
“Now, to stay here, I am going to need you to help out around here like the others.”
“Sure,” Joseph said.
He would have done anything asked of him now that he was able to stay in his mama’s house; the senator had a sneaking suspicion this was true.
“I can do anything you need since you are being so kind to me,” Joseph said.
“I am glad to hear you say that,” said the senator, now grinning as he walked out the door. “I will have William bring you some dinner, and then you need to rest. It will be a big day tomorrow.”
With that, the senator left, shutting the door behind him.
Joseph stood in that perfect little house, a huge smile on his face. He looked lost in euphoria. Pure joy. In the space of less than twenty-four hours, he had met the apparent love of his life and finally felt at ease with his mother’s situation, and he would soon finally meet the woman who had brought him into this world kicking and screaming.
The three-day journey’s exhaustion finally caught up to Joseph, and he walked over to the ever-so-appealing brass bed. He gently laid his body across it while caressing his hand over the pillow. It was so soft and cushiony compared to what he had felt the last few nights, spent on the ground or on a barn floor.
Joseph finally settled in a bit and had a moment to reflect. He was trying to process everything that had just happened with the senator. It had all happened so fast. Then it dawned on him: Did the senator say “William”? I hope it is not the same William. These thoughts flooding in shattered his euphoric feeling. If this was indeed the same William, this could bring what Joseph feared. Did he tell the truth, or was he just crazy?
Joseph was scared to find out whether William was correct. What could this mean for my mama and me? What would that make the senator? Joseph’s head was spinning. He did not want to see or think any more about this William character.
Everything that day, mostly, had gone according to plan, other than William’s lingering words, which circled in Joseph’s head like a hungry vulture ready to pick at the dead carcass of his dreams.
Joseph lay there for a while, but it was not too long before there was a knock at the door. He knew it must be the William fellow that the senator had told him about, bringing his supper. He was quite hungry, but he preferred to starve than to open the door to his possible fears. He stood up and slowly pulled open the door, and there stood William with his dinner—the very same William. Joseph’s face dropped. His pupils dilated as fear took him to a new realm.
“Hello. Nice to see you again,” William said in a rehearsed voice. “Here is your supper.” He had had personality and life in his voice earlier. Now it was just a monotone puppet. Joseph wondered who was pulling the strings.
Joseph was trying desperately to convince himself that William was a crazed liar. He was bargaining with his own mind, but for now, he was out of chips. Joseph tried to convince himself that maybe William was just there as a prank to scare him. Joseph quickly turned to anger as a defense. What is he tryin’ to pull? Then, in a moment of uncertainty, he thought, If it was so damn bad, why would William say all these awful things about the senator and his house, then come back here to work when he was clearly free earlier to roam far away? Why would he be here unless this was a good place to live?
The senator had treated Joseph with respect and given him a great place to lay his head. Joseph was agitated. He just wanted his mama so they could get the hell out of there. William could keep the senator all to himself, in Joseph’s opinion, but Joseph wanted answers.
“Why are you here when you told me to stay away?” Joseph spouted in a clearly irritated tone.
“I done told you. My chain brings me back,” William said. “You have a good night now.”
Joseph just stood there, dumbfounded and a little nervous, unable to respond. Was William insane, or was he somehow being controlled in a way that Joseph couldn’t see? None of it made any sense.
This haunting thought kept Joseph awake for hours even though he kept telling himself he had a big day tomorrow. Every time he reminded himself of the senator’s words, “to get good rest,” it would place him that much further from sleep. Finally, he found a remaining chip deep in his mind. He made one more bargain with himself so that he could rest. He told himself to just enjoy the fact that he was finally there and block out all this William business.
All he had to do was to help out for a couple of days and wait for his mother to return. They would then be free to leave together and live a happy life. He knew this to be true because the senator had told him so. It was that simple. Joseph was finally able to drift off to sleep with the words of William locked safely away in a closet deep in his mind.
13
Into the Gray
A week had gone by since Joseph had arrived at Senator Westridge’s plantation, and a long week it had been. Joseph had been working in the fields every day, just as the senator had asked of him. Joseph’s patience was wearing thin, though, with this waiting-on-his-mother-to-return business. Every day while he worked, he secretly watched for a woman that might be his mother coming down the drive. His eyes would eagerly glance around every time he heard a noise in the road or the driveway. Still no sign of her. That strange pressure he’d felt on his chest since he arrived was still with him. He was convinced it was either nerves or excitement, but he was not going to allow it to ruin this good thing he had going on.
Day after day, though, the senator was able to build more trust and a deeper level of respect in Joseph. It was the little things that reeled Joseph in. The senator would smile at Joseph, treat him courteously, make eye contact, and say things as simple as “Thank you” or “You’re welcome.” It was unlike what Joseph had experienced. The Kingsleys never smiled at him, made eye contact, or told him thank you. Their actions toward him were always sharp and distant. Joseph’s thoughts about the senator were, Who would be that nice if they were someone that could not be trusted? Joseph always knew he could not trust the Kingsleys. There was no mystery there; it was black and white. With the good senator, Joseph was entering into the gray.
For the past week, the senator had greeted Joseph with the same smile and courteous behavior as the first day they had met. Joseph’s respect for Senator Westridge, with his polite and seemingly gentle demeanor, was blossoming. Before Joseph knew it, he was on a schedule with the rest of the workers. He was up before sunrise, out in the fields tilling the soil and planting the cotton seeds one strenuous row at a time. It was springtime in Doddsdale, but the temperatures were steadily rising. In the South, the temperatures get high and the humidity gets even higher. Being in the direct sun all day performing manual labor can take a toll on one’s body, even for a young boy.
By Friday afternoon, Joseph was exhausted. He had always had to work for the Kingsleys, but he was quickly learning now that he had had it easier than the other workers who worked those fields for the Kingsleys all day long every day. By comparison, this was brutal work, and Joseph was exhausted and hungry. The mixture of tiredness and hunger are never a good combination for one’s mood. Even the nicest of people can snap.
At one point, Joseph stopped working long enough to wipe the sweat off his brow. His eyes glared with frustration and defeat. He was ready to quit and leave this place, ignoring the reason he’d come there.
Just when Joseph’s spirit and patience had reached wit’s end, the senator stepped out onto the porch. “Joseph, why don’t you come on up here, boy!”
Joseph perked up a bit at hearing his name called from the very lips of the man he was coming to care about and respect.