Roots_ The Saga of an American Family - Alex Haley [303]
“Massa, every year money you’s spendin’ on blacksmithin’ you could be savin’! Ain’t none us never tol’ you how Tom awready been savin’ you some, sharpenin’ hoe blades an’ sickles an’ different other tools—well as fixin’ lot o’ things gits broken roun’ here. Reason I brings it up, when you sent me over for dat Isaiah nigger blacksmith to put de new wheel rims on de wagon, he was tellin’ me Massa Askew been years promisin’ him a helper dat he need real bad, much work as he doin’ to make money fo’ his massa. He tol’ me he sho’ be glad to make a blacksmith out’n any good boy he could git holt of, so I thought right ’way ’bout Tom. If he was to learn, Massa, ain’t jes’ he could do ever’ thing we needs roun’ here, but he could be takin’ in work to make you plenty money jes’ like dat Isaiah nigger doin’ for Massa Askew.”
George felt sure he’d struck a nerve, but he couldn’t be sure, for the massa carefully showed no sign. “Looks to me this boy of yours is spending more time making this kind of stuff instead of working,” said Massa Lea, thrusting the metal pitcher back into George’s hands.
“Tom ain’t missed a day since he started workin’ in yo’ fiel’s, Massa! He do sich as dis jes’ on Sundays when he off! Ever since he been any size, seem like he got fixin’ an’ makin’ things in ’is blood! Every Sunday he out in dat l’il ol’ lean-to shed he done fixed hisself behin’ de barn, a-burnin’ an’ bangin’ on sump’n’nother. Fact, we’s been scairt he ’sturb you an’ de missis.”
“Well, I’ll think about it,” Massa Lea said, turning abruptly and walking away, leaving Chicken George standing there confused and frustrated—purposely, he felt sure—holding the metal pitcher.
Miss Malizy was seated in the kitchen peeling turnips when the massa walked in. She half turned around, no longer springing to her feet as she would have done in years past, but she didn’t think he’d mind, since she had reached that point in age and service where some small infractions could be permitted.
Massa Lea went straight to the point. “What about this boy named Tom?”
“Tom? You means ’Tilda’s Tom, Massa?”
“Well, how many Toms’ out there? You know the one I mean, what about him?”
Miss Malizy knew exactly why he was asking. Just a few minutes before, Gran’mammy Kizzy had told her of Chicken George’s uncertainty about how Massa Lea had reacted to his proposal. Well, now she knew. But her opinion of young Tom was so high—and not just because he’d made her new S-curved pothooks—that she decided to hesitate a few seconds before answering, in order to sound impartial.
“Well,” she said finally, “a body wouldn’t pick ’im out of a crowd to talk to, Massa, ’cause de boy ain’t never been much wid words. But I sho’ can tell you fo’ fac’ he de smartes’ young’un out dere, an’ de goodest o’ dem big boys, to boot!” Miss Malizy paused meaningfully. “An’ I speck he gwine grow up to be mo’ man in whole lot o’ ways dan his pappy is.”
“What are you talking about? What kind of ways?”
“Jes’ man ways, Massa. Mo’ solid, an’ ’pendable, an’ not fo’ no foolishness no kin’ o’ way, an’ like dat. He gwine be de kin’ o’ man make some woman a mighty good husban’.”
“Well, I hope he hasn’t got matin’ on his mind,” said Massa Lea, probing, “’cause I just permitted it with that oldest one—what’s his name?”
“Virgil, Massa.”
“Right. And every weekend he’s runnin’ off to bed down with her over at the Curry plantation when he ought to be here workin’!”
“Nawsuh, not Tom. He too young for sich as dat on his min’, an’ I ’speck he won’t be too quick ’bout it even when he git grown, leas’ not ’til he fin’ jes’ de right gal he want.”
“You’re too old to know about young bucks nowadays,” said Massa Lea. “Wouldn’t surprise me if one left my plow and mule in the field to go chasin’ some gal.”
“’Gree wid you if you talkin’ ’bout dat Ashford, Massa, ’cause he took to woman chasin’ jes’ like his pappy. But Tom jes’ ain’t dat kin’, dat’s all.”
“Well, all right. If I go on what you say, the boy sounds like he might be fit for something.”
“Go on what any us say ’bout him, Massa.” Miss Malizy concealed her jubilation.