“I don’t think I had a best friend,” he said quietly. “I always had my nose in a book, hoping to be able to learn enough that I could start my own business when I arrived in England. Iwas close to my sister, but I don’t even know what happened to her.”
“Would you like the boys to try and find out for you?” asked Irene.
“Can they do that?” he asked.
“My boys can do just about anything,” smiled Irene with pride. “Sly? You hear me, baby?”
“Yes, ma’am, I hear you. I’ll check on his sister. What was her name?”
“What was her name, honey?”
“Grisella St. Jean. Grisella, sweet, sweet, Grisella. She was the most beautiful girl on the island, and every man wanted her. I hope that my parents chose wisely for her.”
“Did you ever marry?” asked Ruby. Grover stared at her, frowning as he looked down. Then, he suddenly looked up with a realization and surprise.
“I did!”
“You did? What was her name?” asked Ruby.
“Tia.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
1795
“We can’t marry you in the ways we would normally do so,” said Melba. “We’ll say some words that mean somethin’ and do some things that might seem strange. But you’ll be married all the same.”
Grover and Tia smiled, nodding at the old woman. It was Sunday, the usual day off for them. They’d bathed, put on the best clothing they had, and hoped to make this one day of their confined lives a happy day.
As they were enjoying their wedding dinner, cooked by all the women in the slave quarters, the boss walked up, smiling at them.
“Well, well, well. You two should produce lots of little negroes for me,” he chuckled. Grover wanted to punch him in the face but knew what the punishment would be. Tia just smiled, nodding at him.
“Melba, you married ‘em?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” she said, nodding.
“Good. They ain’t done nothin’ yet, right?” Melba slowly nodded her head, knowing what was coming. “That’s good. As boss, I get first rut.”
“What?” gasped Grover. “No. No, she’s my wife!”
He backhanded Grover, sending him to the ground, a slice across his face from that damn ring he wore all the time. Tia tried to kneel to help her husband up, but it was of no use. Dragged, kicking and screaming, she wouldn’t get away. When Grover attempted to stand, the butt of a rifle was rammed into the side of his head.
He didn’t know how much later it was, but it was dark. He tried to roll over, but the wave of nausea paused his movement.
“Hold still, baby,” said Melba in a sad voice.
“Wh-where is Tia? Where is my wife?” he asked. Melba looked up at her husband, and he knelt beside the younger man.
“There was nothin’ we could do, Grover. He kept her in that barn for hours. When he came out, he told his men to sell her to someone upriver, far away.”
“No,” said Grover, shaking his head. “No! He can’t do that!”
“He can, boy. We’re his property. He can do whatever his likes.” Grover stood, wobbling at first, then steadying himself.
“I am no man’s property.”
There were five attempts at escape after that. Grover didn’t care about the beatings and whippings. The pain reminded him of what he needed to do. He had to get away. He had to find his wife and get as far north as possible.