Little Black Girl Lost 4 (8 page)

Chapter 23

H
er question forced Rutgers to think deeply about his own convictions. He was in a difficult position; being the one who kidnapped and caged her, he now owed his very life to her. His conscience was pricked by her accurate commentary, but money was the deciding factor; it was an intoxicating influence. It stymied desirable virtues like veracity and personal integrity. It caused much conflict and consternation. He felt the need to alleviate his conscience and keep her as his private chattel at the same time.

After a few minutes passed, he smiled confidently, attempting to put her at ease. He said, “If it will square us, yes. I will give you anything but your freedom.”

Ibo quieted her spirit and relaxed. She looked at his bookshelf. Then, as if she'd had an epiphany, she walked over to it and ran her fingers along the covers as she looked at the titles. She looked at row after row of thick books and wondered what usable information they contained. She had always been intelligent, contemplative, and insatiably hungry for knowledge.

Still looking at the rows of books, she asked, “What language do they speak in America?”

“English for the most part. But where you're going, there is a mixture of English, French, and Spanish; languages you already speak.”

Still looking at the books, she said, “Yes, but I cannot read English or any of the others. I am able to pick up just about any language I hear. It is a gift from your God.”

She paused and looked at him to see what his response would be to her reference of the divine. He smirked and kind of huffed. As far as she was concerned, there could be no doubt that any person who could pick up languages as easily as she could, must be endowed by a power greater than man.

“But I have never learned to read those same languages. I never had a teacher of those languages. If I had a willing teacher, I could learn to read and write in those languages. Then I might be able to free myself one day, as you say.”

“Slaves are not supposed to read and write in America. Some masters would kill you for that. On the other hand, New Orleans is a different kind of place. Come to think of it, so is the Isle of Santo Domingo. Both have a generous population of free people of color who have become wealthy innovators. Who says you can't do the same if you want it badly enough?”

She went back over to the table and sat down. She laced her fingers together and looked him in the eyes. “The man you're going to sell me to ... will he kill me even though I could be of benefit to him?”

“I don't think he will. I will let him know about your abilities and perhaps he can put them to good use.”

She went back over to his bookshelf and fingered the books again, as if she were looking for just the right one. Although she couldn't read the words, she could tell that there was a series of books that seemed to have the same name on them. She picked up one of them and said, “What is this about?”

He walked over to where she was standing and took the book out of her hand. Still looking at the title, he said, “This is the works of William Shakespeare. There are several volumes.”

“Tell me about them.”

“It will take quite some time to tell you about his stories. The subject matter is vast and the depth is nearly bottomless. It is full of political intrigue, romance, sex, betrayal, and death. Are you sure you want to start with those?”

“Romance? Yes, and I want to start right now.”

“Well, then, I suppose we should start with Romeo and Juliet. It seems so appropriate given the circumstances of your capture.”

What Captain Rutgers didn't tell her was that the story of Romeo and Juliet was just as applicable to his life as it was to hers.

For the next three months, she read all of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets. She was particularly fond of his tragedies. Her favorite plays were
Antony and Cleopatra, Coriolanus, Julius Caesar, Othello,
and, of course,
Romeo and Juliet
, not necessarily in that order.

In
Antony and Cleopatra,
she admired Octavius' political cunning; in
Othello,
she admired Iago's diabolical deception; in
Coriolanus,
she admired Caius Martius' combative spirit; in
Julius Caesar,
she observed and reveled in the art of conspiracy; in
Romeo and Juliet,
she saw herself dealing with the bonds of love. All of these would be her mentors and become the weapons of a war she intended to wage once they reached the shores of someplace called New Orleans.

For three months, Rutgers and Ibo sat at his dining table and discussed the plays and what they meant. He found her essays on the works of William Shakespeare to be of unusual depth and delightfully trenchant. Rutgers watched her grow at an alarming rate and knew that she would be a dangerous foe for whoever stood in her way.

Over the months, during the course of their many conversations, he found it difficult not to fall in love with her. Her mind was sharp and engaging, her wit was intoxicating, and her beauty, which seemed to grow with each passing day, extraordinary. As much as he wanted to know her carnally, he couldn't, for two reasons.

First and foremost, she was a commodity. Her value had perhaps increased because of all that he had taught her. Being unblemished at the time of the auction would bring him a tidy sum. Second, he no longer saw her as he once did—a non-person. She had not only become sentient and real, she had become so much more. And as a real person, he could not violate her without further violating his conscience. He therefore satisfied his ever-growing lust for her with one of the other women, but never again in her presence.

Chapter 24

C
aptain Joseph Rutgers was born in 1742 on the west coast of Belgium in a town called Westland, which sat on the North Sea. He was the son of Pentecostal Evangelists—both he and his younger brother, Jonah, born a year later in 1743. They competed with each other constantly to see who could run the fastest, swim farther, or catch the most fish. When it came to competition, it didn't matter what the activity was; one had to show the other who was the best at it. This was especially true when it came to the affections of their mother. The competition for her attention was so intense that if she so much as smiled at one and not the other, a fistfight would ensue.

Joseph was obedient to a fault, doing whatever his mother and father told him to the letter. He was virtuous to the core of his being, tenderhearted and kind, particularly where women were concerned. Jonah, on the other hand, was the polar opposite of his older brother. He was a total rebel, a brawler and a lothario, having little to no respect for those of the female persuasion. He wore these attributes as if they were badges of honor.

The more obedient Joseph was the more defiant Jonah became. When Joseph committed his life to God, Jonah committed his life to wickedness. Through it all they loved each other fiercely, defending each other whenever the need arose, but only because they carried the same blood in their veins. Besides great fondness for their mother, the boys had one thing in common—an affinity for the sea.

Both men felt the call of the sea and became mariners together, traveling the known world, living carefree, with no responsibilities to tie them down. They had learned the ins and outs of sailing, and had become navigators. They had hoped to one day own their own ships or be captains.

Over the years, Joseph and Jonah became extremely close. Joseph became less rigid when it came to his religious beliefs, and Jonah wasn't as rebellious as he once was. All of that changed when they met and fell in love with a sexy blonde Aussie named Tracy Combs at a fruit and vegetable market near the docks in Australia.

Tracy Combs had a bright, inviting smile that won them over in an instant. She was a sweet, shy, and well-behaved twenty-one-year-old Catholic woman when they met her. She was quite taken with both brothers and had difficulty deciding which one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She loved Joseph's innocence and sense of fair play, but she was drawn to Jonah's tough guy behavior and his naughty conversation.

When the time came to decide which brother she wanted, she chose Joseph because he could be trusted to never hurt her. Fidelity was a trait that Jonah simply did not have, and she didn't see him developing that virtue any time soon. Besides, she and Joseph had the same belief system. Although Jonah could quote Bible verses better than both of them, he never even acknowledged that there was a God. He was the ultimate skeptic.

What Tracy didn't count on was her own untrustworthiness, which was why, after marrying Joseph, she ended up in bed with Jonah. She thought herself to be virtuous and religiously chaste, a true believer in the Almighty and his son Jesus Christ. And she had been, up to the moment she met Jonah; she believed in God even as she peeled off her clothing and got into bed with him. He had awakened something in her; something vile and wicked. His words were like delicious sweet potato pie, and she ate every word like they were the last pieces she would ever have.

Over the course of time, she found her own wicked thoughts of her and Jonah doing the naughty things he suggested tantalizing, and stood at the precipice of embracing them. She was edging ever closer to the brilliant flame of wickedness, but she thought she could control herself. Fantasies of Jonah ruled her thoughts and dreams so much that one day she allowed Jonah to kiss her on the mouth. The kiss was so powerful and yet so sweet that it ignited a blaze in her private place and threatened to slowly melt her moral defenses as if they were candles. Day after day, her feelings for Jonah dominated her mind and grew more lewd each time she thought of him.

That's when she decided to marry Joseph, even though his kisses left her feeling morally pure. But feeling morally pure was not exactly what she wanted. She wanted passion; the kind of passion that left one feeling out of control. She wanted to be driven to the edge of sex, to be inebriated by it, and then lose all power to resist its magnetic pull. Jonah offered her that incredible sensation and much more.

But when she saw Joseph watching them together thrusting wildly against each other, when she realized he heard them howling like werewolves, she knew the sight of it shattered his heart. Joseph had warned her many times about his brother, telling her what he was capable of. Now he knew what she was capable of. Now he knew that she, too, harbored a wicked heart of deception.

Chapter 25

W
hen she saw him standing there like a statue, stunned and unmoving, with his mouth open at the horror of it all, staring at them while they made love in his bed, she came to her senses and realized that she had dishonored her husband and disgraced herself. More important, she had disgraced the God she still believed in even while she was in the midst of sinning against him. But it was too late—too late for apologies, too late for forgiveness, too late for any hope of reconciliation with Joseph. Suddenly, she lost the desire to continue the act and wanted Jonah to stop his powerful thrusts.

Jonah, on the other hand, had no idea Joseph was standing in the doorway watching it all. He was so into the moment that he couldn't stop if he wanted to. And so he continued the act until it was completed, even though she begged him to stop. If she had said stop once, she had said it a million times. She never meant it before, so he naturally thought she didn't mean it this time either. She didn't mean it when he kissed her. She didn't mean it when he caressed her covered breasts. She didn't mean it when he ripped open her blouse. She didn't mean it when he kissed and suckled her bare nipples. She didn't mean it when he put his hand up her dress and inside her panties. To all of this, she said stop weakly. No power. No conviction. When he didn't stop, but rather continued the acts she enjoyed, she consented with yet another weak “Stop,” but it was more like an erotic sigh.

Initially, Joseph was in a mild state of shock. But when he came to himself, he realized what his brother had done to him. Murderous rage rose and threatened to consume him. After his brother had spilled his seed into his wife and was about to pull out of her, he grabbed a hunk of his thick black hair and pulled him the rest of the way out of his wife. Then he pounded his face with both fists until it was a bloody mess. Still full of rage, he choked his brother until he turned blue; until his eyes bulged out of his head. He would have continued choking him until he died, but Tracy pleaded with him to stop. He couldn't hear her because his anger muted the sound. He didn't let his brother go until he felt Tracy's laced fingers under his chin, pulling him away from Jonah.

After his dance with imminent death, Jonah became a devout Christian; more devout and more committed than Joseph ever was. He never touched Tracy again, and now had his own wife and children. He made it his life's mission to win his brother back to the church. He waited at the dock every time the
Windward
pulled in with hostages. He apologized to his brother and told him that what he was doing was sin in the sight of God.

The incident had occurred more than twenty years earlier, and still he had not successfully won his brother to God. He hadn't gotten him to speak to him or even look at him. Joseph walked past him as if he were an invisible man. But his words about the evils of slavery always left a perpetual dagger in Joseph's heart.

The wicked betrayal changed Joseph forever. It hardened him. He swore in his wrath that he would never love again. The love he had for his brother turned into bitter hatred. The burning hot love he had for Tracy melted like ice cream on a hot, muggy day. The love he had for his God turned cold because he blamed him for it all. He had been a good man for the better part of his life. He told himself he didn't deserve to be treated the way he had been treated. He told himself that it was better to do evil rather than good, and pursued it like it was cool water in a sweltering, desolate place.

As the years passed he became more bitter, not less. He decided to live by his own standards, which sunk him deeper into the abyss of resentment. He was miserable, and only felt a sense of peace on the sea. When an opportunity to take command of a slave ship was presented to him ten years later, he seized it. The sea became his wife and mistress because he could count on the sea. The sea would never betray him as his brother and wife once had.

All of that had changed when he saw Ibo and the prince near a spring of fresh water. Now his affections were being wooed away from the sea and being transferred to flesh and blood—but he didn't know it.