Chapter 31
A week later, when Scarlett was seated at the porch and glumly glancing through Aunt Pitty's letter, she saw a black man walking down the avenue through the Oak trees. As he came closer, he took off his hat and Scarlett instantly recognized him to be the same man who had jumped into the river to rescue those children when the dam broke at her party.
"What do you want?" she asked, putting down her letter.
"I came to talk to you, ma'am-" said the black man, looking a little flushed and embarrassed.
"About what?" asked Scarlett, curiously. "What is your name?"
"My name is Jeb and I came here to ask you, ma'am.. if you would be so kind as to introduce me to that Anderson family that came to your barbeque-"
"Introduce you?" echoed Scarlett, surprised. She returned a stern gaze. "Why would I want to do that?"
"I want to work for them. It's hard finding jobs for us free folk. Before, we belonged to people and they told us what to do. We never had to go out looking for our next meal. We never had to think about what we want to do or who we want to work for. But such a thing has become important now and we are struggling."
"Well, I don't see why you can't go over there yourself and ask for a job. Why should I have to recommend you!"
"Because ma'am.. I heard them say that they were having trouble living near the swamp and I know all about how to deal with pesky trappers. I know because I've worked before at a plantation which was just next to a huge swamp and we used to keep an eye out for trappers all the time and I kept those unwanted trash a-hopping with my gun-"
"You can shoot?"
"Yes'm and I'm a mighty fine shot too-"
"What else can you do?"
"I can ride a horse and drive one- they said they were far away from the main town. I could cart them up and down all day if they paid me for it-"
Scarlett put down the letter and sat up in her chair.
"Ma'am.. I've got a wife and five children who are starving and we all found each other just last year and I've been trying hard to find a job with quality folks.. but thing is, they don't trust us no more. Most of them just take one look at us, ask us what wages we want and then send us away- I got me jobs in stores, town houses and things.. but those jobs ain't any good cause they just replace you just like that- Now, quality folks wouldn't do that. They'd take an interest in what you can do and who you are-"
"What makes you think I can help you?"
Jeb reared up his head and gave a swift glance. "Ma'am you were trying something new with your barbeque party and I thought you might help me. God knows, there are so many of us here looking for good jobs with old folks.. we ain't all useless and ungrateful-"
Scarlett relaxed a little but still stared at the black man. "Allright" she said, after a long pause. "I'll see what I can do. But you have to dress better and do you know how to read or write?"
"Yes'm, I can read and write..jest a little-"
"Allright then. Come next week. I'll see what I can do."