Candle in the Darkness - Lynn N. Austin [63]
“Dreadful mistake. She had claws like razor blades, and she wanted her freedom, so she proceeded to slice my chest into ribbons. Of course, Mrs. Peckham was watching all this from below and singing my praises as a hero. So I had no choice but to grit my teeth, ignore the pain, and start climbing down.
“By the time I reached the ladder, the cat had worked her deadly way around my body and was now shredding my back. I was in such a hurry to end my torment that I accidentally kicked the ladder over in my haste to get down. Tiny, frail Mrs. Peckham couldn’t right it again, so she tottered off, in her doddering way, for help.
“I couldn’t wait. The lowest branch was about fifteen feet above the ground, but I figured if I broke my neck in the fall, at least it would end the misery the cat was inflicting on me. And with any luck, the cursed cat would die, too. I swung from the branch with both hands and dropped to the ground—spraining my ankle in the process. I didn’t care. That pain was nothing compared to those needle-like claws. I quickly unbuttoned my shirt, wrenched the blasted cat off my back, and bundled her up inside the shirt like a sack of potatoes.
“By the time Mrs. Peckham returned with her handyman— who probably should have been sent to retrieve the stupid cat in the first place—I must have looked a sight: sitting on the ground, shirtless, my body bleeding and cut to ribbons.
“ ‘Look like the overseer done whipped you good, Mr. St. John,’ the handyman said. He took the bundle away from me and carefully opened it to present the cat to Mrs. Peckham. That’s when I got the biggest surprise of all.
“ ‘Why, Mr. St. John!’ she exclaimed. ‘That’s not my kitty!’ ” By the time Charles finished his story, I was laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes. I couldn’t believe he was the same obnoxious man I’d argued with earlier. And I couldn’t believe that I was having such a good time with him. But when Sally and Jonathan left the two of us alone on the blanket and went to feed the leftover cake to the ducks, the fireworks soon started again.
“Have you picnicked here at the fairgrounds before?” Charles asked me casually.
“No, I never have.”
“Isn’t it nice to see so many people enjoying the fine spring weather?”
“Yes, it is.” But I’d noticed that all of the couples strolling the paths that afternoon were white. It angered me that educated people like Charles couldn’t see how wrong that was. I simply had to speak my mind. “It’s too bad, Mr. St. John, that in this beautiful land of freedom, the Negro population of Richmond is not allowed a day of rest or the pleasure of a stroll.”
His eyes narrowed. “Listen now. Don’t start . . .”
“The truth leaves you without defense, doesn’t it?”
“I have a perfectly good defense, but why waste my breath?”
“Ha!” I said. “I’d like to hear you try to defend the fact that slavery deprives people of their basic rights and freedoms.”
“Why bother? You people don’t listen anyway. All I ever do in Washington is argue with Northern abolitionists, and it doesn’t do a bit of good.”
“That’s because they’re right and you’re wrong.”
“No, it’s because you’ve all been brainwashed with a bunch of overblown rhetoric—”
“Stop it this instant!” We looked up to see Sally standing over us, hands on hips. “Honestly! If you two won’t stop bickering, then we’d better go home.”
Charles held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Don’t let me spoil your day. I promise I won’t say another word.”
“Me either!” I folded my arms across my chest.
“Well, that will make for a cheerful afternoon,” Sally said. “Pack everything up, Jonathan. Charles, fetch the carriage. I want to go home.”
“No, Sally, wait!” Jonathan pleaded. “Let’s give them one more chance.”
But Sally refused. Long before the afternoon should have ended, she and Charles were gone. Jonathan was so upset with me he didn’t say a word on the ride home, and