Part 2

EXCERPT FROM THE HIGHEST PRICE FOR PASSION BY LAURINDA BROWN

Wiping away her tears and drying her hands against her gingham dress, Hattie opened the door and saw Vincent, with Eunice by his side, standing before her with his head hung low. “Uh, Miss Hattie, uh, how ye dis evenin’?”

Hattie replied calmly, “I’se gettin’ long fine, Vincent. Wut kin I do fa ye?”

“Miss Hattie, me and the fellas out der knowed ’bout you and Quancy,” he responded. “Us knowed he quite fond uh ya. Dat’s why sumbody needed te come tell ya ’bout last night.”

“Please, c’mon in. Tells me er’ythang.”

By the time Vincent finished telling her all that had happened, Hattie had no life left in her and fell into his arms, continuing to weep uncontrollably.

Eunice helped take Hattie from Vincent’s arms. “I gots hur. Gone bak outside fo’ ya gits ketched in here wid us.” Until Hattie started falling asleep, Eunice sat with her and wiped her tears as they flowed into her lap. “Miss Hattie, I’ma get on home unlessen ya needs me te stay here wid ya.”

Her eyes wet as rain puddles, she told Eunice to go on home so she could spend some time talking with Jesus. A short time later, there was another knock at the door, and Hattie thought maybe Eunice had decided to come back to check on her. But when she opened the door, no one was there. Standing in the door’s threshold, a gentle wind passed by, and with it was the scent of Quincy. Hattie closed the door and headed toward the corner where she slept, but noticed the back door was slightly open. She got up and closed it, peeping through the crack to see if someone had tried to get in. With the flames of a nearby candle flickering against the wooden floor, her eyes fell upon the top of the pile of straw where she slept. Against her blanket was a sunflower. When she leaned over to pick it up, her senses detected an odor enhanced by the scent of her man. “Quincy?” she called out.

Emerging from the corner of the room that received the least amount of light was Quincy.

“Shhhh,” he directed with his finger pressed against his lips.

“But wut…”

Having returned to the site where he was attacked to get his pants, Quincy was clothed, but his shirt and pants were in shreds. “I’se need ya te get ya thangs real quick, Hattie, and comes wid me.”

Without hesitation, Hattie grabbed her blanket and her flowers. “I’se ready.” Disappearing into the night, the two runaways left their troubles behind and sought freedom.

The next morning it was quickly discovered that Hattie was missing since she worked in the main house from time to time, being responsible for bringing Massa Gray his breakfast. By the break of dawn, he was coming down the stairs, and, before the sun could shed light into the east side of the house, he was sitting at the table with his breakfast of eggs, bacon, and biscuits waiting for him. Ever since Hattie had been working in the house, that was the routine, but on this particular morning, there was no smell of bacon frying or biscuits baking. The minute Massa Gray got to the top of the stairs he knew something was wrong, and, instead of going to the table, he went to the barn to get his horse and headed over to see Silas.

“We got a problem, Silas. Hattie’s run off,” Massa Gray said as he walked toward Silas, who was about to sit down to his breakfast of eggs, grits and hoecakes.

“Well, then, you must be hungry. Have some,” Silas joked, gesturing for his servant, Nan, to fix Massa Gray a plate. Checking to see if Nan was out of sight, he continued. “I know you ain’t surprised. We was shootin’ bullets in the dark, and you musta missed.” He laughed.

“Silas, we can’t afford to have that nigger out there. He could…”

“He could what? Tell? Tell who? He wouldn’t live a second longer if he opened up his mouth to a

White man about it, and he too shamed to tell another nigger. We ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.”

Massa Gray sat there still looking concerned. He was spiteful and evil when he wanted to be.

“We need him dead, Silas. We can’t risk somebody finding out.”

Silas, shoveling hot grits in his mouth with one hand, put his other hand on Massa Gray’s thigh and started rubbing his hand up and down and around his cock. “Tell you what. I got an idea.”

“What?”

“We can post a reward for Hattie. Now you and I both know we don’t give a damn about her. Wherever we find Hattie, we find Quincy.”