“Guess I might tell Floyd to watch the pigs tonight to make sure they don’t fly away,” Mr. Kern said without looking up.
“He should be told many things but not that,” she said sharply.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, finally placing aside his paper.
“Nothing,” she swore. “Just some of his workers should be more careful, that’s all.”
“Then I’ll tell him tonight,” he said. “Anything I should know?”
“No,” she answered before drawing her next words more kindly than she’d uttered any other. “Just some things out of place I noticed this morning during my walk. Nothing too important, but it still bears telling.”
“Good,” he said.
“But let me tell him,” she insisted. “I wants to make sure he knows exactly where we saw them so that he knows for next time. You knows how I hate having to repeat myself.”
“If you wants to, handle it,” he said. “But tell me, how is it this heat don’t bother you no more? Walking every day now.”
“It’s not so bad,” she answered playfully, scrunching her face and rolling her eyes. “Once you get used to it.”
These words brought a smile to her face that lasted longer than the amount of time it took for her to say them, as if a thought had latched onto her heart and wouldn’t let go. Later that evening, she found Floyd outside the stables, still with that smile blatant as ever.
“Evening, Miss,” he said as she approached.
“I swear it is,” she replied. “Can’t be nothing else.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“Tomorrow we’ll have work for Silva’s boy Jesse inside the house,” she said. “Shouldn’t take all day. I meant to tell you earlier but you weren’t around. Just send him to the main house around noon. Should have him back within an hour or two before you can even miss him. You can send him with fruit, too, if you like.”
The Missus turned and walked toward the house, a scowl covering her face as if it hurt her to breathe. Then, without a single thought to make it reasonable in the world, she turned and smiled as she waved to Floyd in likeness to a beauty queen on a parade float.
“I swear she crazy!” Floyd protested later that night as we sat in his back quarters. “Done gone plum mad. That boy can’t come back here. Ain’t safe.”
Even if I agreed with him, there was little we could do aside from telling Silva who would rave stark mad at our theories of the Missus’s attempts to taint her boy or, even worse, bring him harm.
“If we tell her, I swear it’s only going to bring more problems for not only Jesse but Silva too,” I said, as I was sure Silva would have no patience with the Missus and would go and get herself killed. “This thing involves a lot more people than just those two. It’s all of us now.”
It was for this reason that I agreed to watch the boy while he worked inside the house, never leaving him alone with the Missus and “never givin’ ’er a chance ta ruin him,” as Floyd insisted.
Jesse was sent for around noon the next day, that coldhearted being taking no chances the boy would not show and instead sending Silva to claim him. Silva left the house to me as she ventured outdoors to the back stable. Miss Lula and I sat at the kitchen table, the young woman’s chatter a breathless assemblage of words and sometimes mere guttural sounds as she reviewed her plans for the work to be done. She would rearrange the entire house, she insisted, as long as it took.
“You mind your business and be done,” I said to Jesse as soon as he entered, taking his ear privately when Silva and the Missus weren’t looking. “You got one job to do, and then you get back to Floyd to help him out. Cool air doesn’t mean a thing if everyone can’t enjoy it.”
Jesse smiled with that look of trouble, kidding as he normally did, although my pinch to his arm straightened him right up.
“You make sure you mind your manners around Miss, too,” I said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he finally said, fixing his face rather quickly.
“You do your job and be gone, or else I’ll box your ears.”
Miss Lula seized the boy’s arm, pulling him to the table, although she was halfhearted in her reproach.
“We have work to do, son,” she said. “Standing around’ll see you passed up at heaven’s gate. Now you don’t wanna be left behind with the rest of them, do you?”
Silva noticed the boy’s eyes still on me and prepared him for a lecture.
“Jesse,” Silva said sternly, “you listen real good and pay attention now.”
Miss Lula smiled at this bit of chastisement.
“It’s okay,” she promised. “Work inside the house can’t be that exciting for a boy like him. Most boys prefer to be outdoors anyway. It shouldn’t take too long.”
“Still,” Silva demanded.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Jesse said to both Miss Lula and Silva respectively.
Jesse started his work inside the kitchen, forcing both Silva and myself to find duties elsewhere. During that time I took up chores in the barn, staying as close to that outside portion as possible, where you could hear a fluff of cotton fall from its stem if you listened closely enough. Silva kept busy in the upstairs quarters while the Missus walked about the outer stables, passing me every so often, yet never saying a word. She hadn’t spoken to me or the boy since he’d entered. He worked a decent shift that day. By the evening, Miss Lula sent him back and promised she would call if need be.
“But ma’am!” he protested. “This here’s barely done.”
“It’s okay, Jesse,” she said. “Floyd needs you too. He insists you be back early.”
And with this the division was drawn, as the next day Jesse came sneaking around the house in hopes the Missus would see him. And even though she did, she spoke not a word and allowed him to leave without ever knowing of her presence. When Floyd asked him where he’d been, the boy lied and said he’d gone out back for some water. Next day I caught him again poking around the bushes near the front porch when he thought no one was looking, telling me he’d wanted to see if there was landscaping that needed to be done because a handful of workers had finished their jobs and could use some more work.
“How about you worry about your own self, Jesse,” I told him. “I see what you’re doing and I don’t like it one bit. If there was work to be done then you’d know it because you’d be doing it.”
The boy smiled, still looking toward the main house just past my shoulder. He then laughed playfully, asking, “The Missus complained about the kitchen being in such shambles?”