The Jubilee by Michael Barbato-Dunn

The day before the ceremony, Adeline raked leaves into a multi-colored mound on the Kinsey’s enormous lawn. Ezekial hovered nearby in anticipation. When she finished, Henry stopped his chores and helped her bind a rope to the willow’s strongest branch.

With her signal, Ezekiel began a joyful circuit: climbing the tree, scurrying across the limb to the rope, swinging high and hurling himself into the soft pile, then back to the tree. Giddy, he hugged her legs. “Thank you, Miss Adeline.”

“You’re welcome, Zekey.”

The boy was six, with red-brown locks and lashes so long they’d create a breeze. The two played until dusk, when a convoy of wagons arrived, loaded with tents and serving stations for the following evening’s festivities. Mr. and Mrs. Kinsey emerged on the back terrace to watch the work proceed.

“Mama! Papa!” The boy’s hand slipped from hers as he dashed to greet them.

#

The butler, Mr. Frederick, had gathered the staff five days earlier with the news. “Mr. Kinsey is joining an exclusive political club. Members and their families will gather Saturday evening for his induction. Everything must be perfect.”

That night, after Henry returned from the stables, she told him of the grand plans, but he was distracted.

“Addy, I spoke to someone in town.” He studied the calluses on his hands. “He can get us to Charlottesville. Then, we board a freight train to New York.”

She grasped the back of a chair. This again. “No.”

“His wagon leaves early Sunday, Addy. There’s room. He wants thirty-five dollars.”

“Thirty-five dollars!”

“Hush! These walls are thin.”

“We don’t have thirty-five dollars. That’s a white man’s wages for a month! Even if we did, it’s too risky.”

“I’ve saved up fifteen. I’ll convince him to take that.”

She slapped her dish towel on the table like a whip. “We are not leaving the Kinseys! They treat us well. Besides, Zekey needs me. His mother is barely home. I’m surprised she remembers his name.”

Henry reached to the top of the cupboard for a cigarette. “It’s been eight years since Abolition, Addy. It’s time. Wagon leaves Sunday.”

#

On the eve of the induction, excitement throughout the estate was palpable. Dominating the frenzy were Ezekiel’s teenage sisters, Christina and Bridget, who debated hairstyles and primped in their gowns.

Ezekiel was restless as Adeline put him to bed. The September air was stifling, breezeless, the night bugs frantic, so she drew mosquito netting around him.

“I’ll be hot,” he protested.

“The windows are open. I don’t want you getting bit.” She brushed back his curls.

“I have dragons under my bed.”

“Do they have names?”

“Yes, but if I tell you, they’ll be mad at me.”

“Then don’t tell me!”

“I can give you one name.” He tugged her thin hands and whispered, “Ezekiel.”

“He has the same name as you!”

“Yes, and together we chase away the ghosts!”

“There are ghosts under your bed?”

“Only a few. They scare me, but I call for Mama.”

“Does she come?”

“Sometimes. Or Miss Hunter. Sometimes no one. I wish you could sleep in my room.”

Adeline’s chin quivered. “You know I can’t live in your house, Zekey. Now, goodnight.” She kissed his forehead and pulled the netting closed.

#

On Saturday, guests began arriving promptly at dusk, a dozen carriages in all. Adeline watched as Mr. and Mrs. Kinsey emerged from the estate, followed by the children, to greet the new acquaintances. Mr. Kinsey wore a top hat and silk tuxedo with a white rose boutonnière. “He looks regal,” she said to Henry, who scowled.

Her husband’s attitude rankled. How could he not appreciate this grandeur? Members of an exclusive club gathered right here at their own estate, coiffed and bejeweled ladies at their sides! Surely this was preferable to riding with thirty strangers in the back of a horrid wagon, risking their lives.

She turned and went inside.

#

The feast lasted two hours. Even from the distance of the servants’ kitchen, Adeline heard waves of laughter and thunderous applause.

At 7 p.m. she was summoned to the terrace, where post-dinner revelry had ensued. She found the boy clinging to his mother, fidgeting. Mrs. Kinsey handed him over. “He’s had quite a lot to eat. He’ll be sleepy soon enough.”

They chose a terrace chair with a view of the lawn games. Zekey settled on her lap and dozed within minutes, his steady breathing soothing against her chest.

She spied Mr. Kinsey near an oak, smiling, encircled by the other men. Nearby, a photographer fussed with a large box camera on a tripod. Mr. Kinsey raised his right hand and began reciting something, most likely the oath to join this new club.

Adeline closed her eyes.

#

“Miss Adeline. Miss Adeline!”

She realized she had dozed off. Zekey, on her lap, was now awake and pointing.

“Mis Adeline, look! Ghosts!”

She focused across the lawn. The group of men was now gathered in a line, posing for a picture. She sat up.

They wore white hoods, pointed, holes for eyes, atop white robes cinched at their waists with belts. Each man held a cross.

“Ready!” shouted the photographer. The figures stood in place and the flash exploded. Family members shouted and applauded.

“Why are they dressed as ghosts, Miss Adeline? Miss Adeline! Why are you crying?”

#

At dawn she woke Henry and pushed bills into his hand. “Here, I’ve saved on my own. Eighteen dollars.”

He sat up and looked at the cash. “Why—”

She put her hand to his lips. “I’ve packed. We must go.”

Outside, silence blanketed the estate grounds. Henry held her hand as they hurried. At the servants’ gate, he looked back. “It’s clear. We’re good.”

“Wait.” Adeline dropped her bag. “Stay here.”

She ran across the dewy lawn, darting under the willow and its dangling rope, into the back entrance of the estate and up a flight of stairs.

Panting, Adeline pushed back the netting. Then she took a breath and kissed her boy goodbye.

Barbato-Dunn, Michael

Image by 👀 Mabel Amber, who will one day from Pixabay – Dark branches of a weeping willow tree against a grey sky