New York - The Novel

called your ‘common-law wife.’ So,” he gave me a smile, “you be good to her.”
    “You aren’t angry with me, Boss?” I asked. He just smiled and shook his head. “And the Mistress?” I said.
    “Don’t worry.” He sighed. “On that, at least, we are agreed.”
    He was gazing up the river for a while after this, the breeze in his face,and I was watching him to see if he was still in a good temper. Then he turned and gave me a smile.
    “Can I ask you something, Boss?” I requested.
    “Go on,” he said.
    “Well, Boss,” I said, “it’s like this. You told me that one day I might have my freedom. But even if Naomi is my common-law wife, that won’t do her any good. She’ll still be a slave.”
    He didn’t answer.
    “You see, Boss,” I said, “I’m thinking about what happens if we have children.”
    For I had made sure to understand the law. And Dutch or English, it didn’t make a difference. The child of a slave belongs to the master. And if the master frees the slave, the child is still owned by him, unless he frees that child by name also. That is the law.
    He still didn’t reply for a moment, and then he nodded to himself.
    “Well, Quash,” he said, “I’ll have to think about that, but not yet awhile.” And I could tell that he didn’t want to talk about that subject any more.

    During that afternoon, we pulled over to the bank where there was an Indian village and the Boss told me to wait in the boat while he went to talk to the Indians. He was gone a long time, and when he came back, he got into the boat and told the oarsmen to pull upstream. He seemed to have something on his mind, so I kept quiet and minded the tiller.
    We went for maybe half an hour, round a bend in the river, when he said to me: “You remember those Indian children you saved?”
    “Yes, Boss,” I said.
    “Well,” he said, “their mother died. Fever.”
    I didn’t mind so much about the mother, but I had worked hard to save those children, so I asked him if they were all right.
    “Yes,” he said, “the children live.”
    “That’s good, Boss,” I said.

    That evening, we made camp. We ate round the campfire, the Boss, me and the four oarsmen. The Boss was always good with the men. Theyrespected him; but he knew how to sit and joke with them. And even if maybe he had other things on his mind, he would always give the men his time.
    The Boss had brought good provisions and a keg of beer. After we had all eaten and drunk a bit, the men were laughing, and teasing me about the women they said I’d had; and the talk fell to women in general. Then one of the men laughed and said that he was afraid of the Mistress. “I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of her, Boss,” he said. And knowing that the Boss and the Mistress had had a falling-out, I wished he hadn’t said that. And I could see a cloud pass over the Boss’s face. But then he just smiled and said, “I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of any woman.” So the men all agreed about that. But soon after, he said, “Well, I reckon it’s time to sleep.” And it wasn’t long before the men were dozing; and I lay down too.
    But the Boss didn’t sleep. He sat by the fire staring out over the river, very thoughtful, and I reckoned he was thinking about his hard words with the Mistress. So I kept quiet.
    He stayed like that a long time. The fire was getting low. The stars over the river were fine, but there were some clouds passing across them; and then after a time, a light breeze came and started to stir the trees, just a little, like a whisper. It was peaceful as a lullaby, and as I listened to it I started to feel sleepy. But the Boss wasn’t getting to sleep.
    So by and by, thinking maybe to take his mind off whatever was concerning him, and help him get to sleep, I said: “Listen to the breeze, Boss.”
    “Oh,” says he. “You still awake?”
    “Maybe it’ll help you get to sleep, Boss,” I said.
    “Maybe, Quash,” he answered.
    “That breeze is so soft, Boss,” I said. “It’s like a voice in the pine trees. You can hear it if you try.”
    Well, he didn’t say anything. But after a moment I saw his head bend down, so I supposed he might be listening. When he didn’t move for a while, I reckoned maybe he’d gone to sleep. But then he got up slowly, and glanced across at me. And I pretended to be asleep.
    Then he moved away and started walking along the riverbank in the dark.
    I lay still a long time,