Chapter Seven: Conqueror

"People pay for what they do, and still more for what they have allowed themselves to become. And they pay for it very simply; by the lives they lead."

~James Baldwin

(IPOV)

"This isn't a good idea."

It was Monday morning and Esme had just arrived about an hour earlier, Lincoln in tow. He was sprawled across my bed, his blackened eye now a slight shade of a purple and his cheek not as swollen. In all, he had made great improvements, and he even seemed to be moving better.

Lincoln was wearing gray trousers and a soiled shirt that hung loosely on him. His once buzzed hair was longer, his bronzed curls out in full force, and I could tell he felt uncomfortable.

"Maybe I should go," he repeated nervously.

"You'll be fine," I assured him, straightening the bow in my hair. I pulled a skeleton key out of my lace blue dress and dangled it in front of him. "See this? I'll make sure it's locked at all times. No one can get in my room without it."

"But your kin—"

"Will be so busy fussing they won't even come upstairs."

I didn't say anything to Lincoln because I knew he'd leave in a heartbeat, but I was determined to have him meet my cousin Alice. She was going to lose her mind when she saw him!

Right on cue, a horn beeped outside. I ran to the window—where I had a slim view of the driveway—and pressed my face against the glass. Jessica had jumped out before Uncle James could even park. Her cankles wobbled in retaliation to the sudden movement and finally, she stumbled to the ground.

Sheesh. They really needed to stop feeding that child.

"Sit tight," I ordered him. "I'll be right back. I have to make an appearance."

Lincoln look bewildered, as if going anywhere was no longer an option.

I gave him one final smile and walked out of my bedroom, locking the door behind me. Jenks appeared out of nowhere, scaring me half to death.

"Jenks!" I stumbled into the wall, holding my chest. "Mercy, shouldn't you be downstairs doing … I don't know, Negro duties?"

"I'll be on my way, Miss Scarlett," he said, dipping his head. "I was just cleaning the room over yonder. Sure is thin walls in this house. You'd think they wouldn't be, it being so big and all. But it ain't so."

I rolled my eyes. I had no idea what he was blabbering about, nor did I care. I gestured for him to move it along and trailed behind him. He answered the doorbell just as it rang, and I stood beside Mother.

"Welcome to the Swan Estate," Jenks greeted them formally, stretching out his white gloved hand.

"Well, Renee, I have to say you've outdone yourself this time, you truly have!" Aunt Victoria crossed the threshold, removing her sunglasses.

"This old place?" Mother laughed a falsetto laugh of hers and waved off the compliment.

They were both full of it if you asked me.

"Aunt Renee!" Jessica ran—or should I say, wobbled—in next, her blubbering cheeks smeared with chocolate. She tackled Mother with a hug, smiling. Jasper strolled beside Alice, dressed in a fancy suit for no reason. Before I could say hi to Alice, he approached me holding out a bunch of flowers.

His blue eyes gleamed. "For you, cousin Scarlett."

"Oh, thank you," I replied, trying to be polite. When I bent down to smell the bouquet, a stream of water squirted me in the face.

Jasper burst into laughter while I fumed, dripping wet. "Why you little—"

"Jasper!" Aunt Victoria shook her head and Uncle James finally appeared, his hands full of luggage. He was well off, though not as much as Father, but I always remembered how fond he was of everyone. He declined Jenks' assistance with the suitcases.

"I think I've made it this far, wouldn't you say?" Uncle James laughed and plopped the suitcases on the floor. "Where's that favorite niece of mine?"

I wiped my face dry and grinned. "I'm your only niece!"

"And that's why you're my favorite," he cracked, wrapping me in a hug. "Sorry I can't stay long, Renee. Charles told me to meet him at his office."

"Well, you better get a move on." Mother hugged her brother-in-law while Jasper chased Jessica around in circles. "You know how Charles can be if you're late."

"That older brother of mine will have to hold his horses. Let me carry this luggage upstairs."

"No, no," Mother replied. "Jenks can get that for you."

"Let the man rest for goodness sakes!" James shook his head and refused Jenks' outreached arms.

Mother raised her eyebrows but directed him upstairs. "There're several rooms on the east wing."

Uncle James nodded and followed her directions, his hands full. Esme remained silent, pouring drinks and arranging hors d'oeuvres on platters. I grabbed Alice's hand and whispered in her ear. "Come on, I have something to show you!"

While Mother and Aunt Victoria gossiped, I dragged my older cousin up the steps. I made sure no one was around and unlocked the door to my bedroom. I practically shoved her inside and locked it again.

Lincoln was relaxed on the bed, but when he saw Alice he sat straight up, his eyes aghast.

Alice gasped. "You have a boy in your room?"

I grinned spitefully. "Not just any boy! A Negro boy!"

I wiggled my eyebrows and Alice frowned. "You shouldn't call him that!"

Shrugging, I walked towards the bed. "Why not? That's what he is. Alice, I'd like you to meet Edward Lincoln Masen. Lincoln, this is my cousin Alice."

Lincoln appeared quite frightened, but Alice reached out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Lincoln."

What was it with people touching coloreds? Gross.

He gulped. "N-nice to meet you."

"Isn't he something?" I asked, nudging her. "He's biracial. Black and white and yellow all over! Mother doesn't know he's up here and you can't say a word!"

Alice nodded, her short dark curls bouncing. "I won't."

I watched in amazement as she sat on the bed right beside him. She didn't flinch or anything!

"So, Lincoln," she began, "do you live around here?"

I sat in the adjacent chair and told her the entire story. I explained how we met and the tree house and how he got beat up. Everything. "…And now you're the second person he's ever come into contact with. Isn't that incredible?"

"It's brave, that's what it is! I admire you," Alice gushed, turning to Lincoln. "It's a shame what's happened to you, if you want my opinion. My dad always said it shouldn't matter what color you are, that we're all the same."

"Hogwash!" I rolled my eyes at Alice. "You two are more different than a monkey and a zookeeper. And I think we can all agree on who is who!"

"SCARLETT!" Alice shouted at me in horror and Lincoln's gaze dropped down. "What in the hell is wrong with you?"

Alice grabbed Lincoln's face, cupping his jaw with her hands. It was the first time I noticed his eyes were watering. He wasn't … He couldn't be …

But indeed he was. Two fat tears rolled down Lincoln's cheeks and Alice wrapped him in a hug. "You pay her no mind, Lincoln. I am honored to meet you and to know you. I think you're a handsome fella and I'd be ever so grateful to be your friend."

"Really?" Lincoln pulled back, wiping his face. Alice nodded and smiled.

Lincoln smiled back and I'd never seen anything like it. All of his teeth were showing and his eyes were beaming, filled with something I couldn't recognize. But I didn't like it, not one bit. Alice wouldn't stop touching him and their knees were propped next to each other.

My stomach did some weird flip-flop thing and my cheeks flushed with heat.

Who did she think she was?

Lincoln was my little colored boy and there she was, acting holier-than-thou. I could make him smile too! He'd laughed with me before!

I didn't understand. Hadn't I been gracious to him? I'd given him food and drink and shelter and she hadn't done anything more than said a few words and that made them best friends? I'd had enough!

"Alice, I think you better—"

She ignored me and turned completely towards Lincoln, giggling and crossing her legs. "Have you ever played the whispering game?"

Lincoln shook his head. "Ain't never had no one to whisper to."

"It's fun. I used to play it with my brother Jasper all the time when we were younger. I whisper something in your ear, but it'll be really low so you have to try to decipher what I said, and vice versa."

"Okay." Lincoln looked slightly confused but waited. Alice brushed her cheek against his, murmuring in his ear. Her hair swept against his neck and he sloped forward to try to understand her words. Finally, she leaned back and smiled.

"What did I say?"

Lincoln scrunched his eyebrows together. "Leeches fake puns of pools?"

Alice burst into laughter, holding her mid-section as if she might explode. "No, I said teachers take tons of toadstools."

"But I don't know what that means."

Alice paused and grinned like a Cheshire cat. "I don't know either!"

Lincoln laughed so hard and so loud, he had to cover his mouth with his hand. It didn't matter. They were both carrying on as if it was the most hysterical thing either of them had ever heard.

Enough was enough.

I marched towards the bed, grabbed Alice by her arm without saying a word, and marched her into my adjacent bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

"What's your problem?" Alice asked, snatching her arm back.

"You are!" I hissed. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing," she claimed innocently.

"No, you're in there joking with Lincoln!"

"So?" Alice dismissed me and twirled in front of the mirror, fluffing her hair. She puckered her lips and straightened her dress.

"Well, you can't! He's my Negro and—"

"Your Negro?" Alice repeated my words in shock. "He's not your anything! You can't own people, Scarlett! He's a human being."

"I can so!" I declared, stomping my foot. "I own Jenks, don't I? He'll do what I want when I want!"

"Yeah?" she taunted. "Well, you know what I think? I think you're jealous. I think you like Lincoln, but instead of just saying so you're acting all weird."

I inhaled sharply at her words. "You take that back right now, Alice! I mean it! I do not fancy a colored boy!"

"Fine. I guess you won't mind if I do. He is handsome, isn't he?" Alice smirked at me and kicked back her heel as she opened the bathroom door. Sashaying towards the bed, she sat so closely to Lincoln that one of her legs was stretched on top of his. She traced her thumb across his bottom lip and Lincoln glanced at me and then back at her. He swallowed, but wouldn't move.

"You ever kissed a girl before?" Alice cooed. She already knew the answer, but she was buttering him up like a fresh baked biscuit.

Lincoln was wide-eyed and so innocent it came off of him in waves. "Uh, j-just my Ma. I meant, not like that. Just, no, n-not a girl."

"Kissing is the best," Alice murmured loud enough for me to hear. "Imagine being so close to someone you can feel their heartbeat. It'll thump real hard, but fast, and you can breathe the other person's breath just as you lean in ever so slowly ..."

Alice ran her hand along Lincoln's jaw, touching the stubble that ran across his face. My nose flared and my mouth quivered. Unintelligible curse words flew out of my mouth, spewing everywhere like a volcano erupting. I was consumed with an anger I'd never felt before and I could sense my normally calm demeanor melting away as my face contorted into an expression of rage.

But my heart felt like it was being shred into irreparable fragments.

"Get out!" I yelled at Alice. "I want you to leave!"

"No," she replied calmly, still touching Lincoln. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Alice …" Lincoln leaned back, taking a deep breath. "I-I don't think this is right. I-I don't want to. I mean, not that you're not ... but I'm not—"

Lincoln gazed apologetically at Alice, unsure whether he was hurting her feelings. She just grinned. "Don't worry, I wasn't going to kiss you. I think my little cousin would be quite envious. Isn't that right, Scarlett?"

Lies. She was a liar of the worst kind. I wasn't jealous. I was … I was …

A lump formed in my throat and all that rage transformed into a broken ego. It poisoned my spirit, leaving nothing but a mist that covered me from the inside out.

Alice was intent on destroying what little part of me that was left standing. She provoked me, coming over and pushing my shuffling feet towards the bed. "You're jealous and you can't even touch him."

"I could so!" I cried.

Alice laughed mockingly. "Go on then, do it."

"I—" She didn't even give me a chance to respond. She stretched out my arm, leaving my fingers lingering just in front of Lincoln's face.

"Scarlett, you don't have to." Lincoln tried to save me, but he couldn't save me from myself. I trembled, sorrowed by just the thought of my skin touching his.

My finger inched another centimeter, delaying the inevitable. Seconds ticked by, the room completely silent as I struggled internally. Time was the opposite of a colored man; he couldn't be beat and he was never really mine to own.

Lincoln sighed, scooted off of the bed and away from me, and stood up. "Scarlett, you may not want my hands on you and that's fine. But I don't want to be touched either."

He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like, "I'm not a puppet," and stormed towards the window, lifting up the pane and climbing over the edge. I let him go without saying a word. I knew he was probably just going to the treehouse to be by himself, but I was angry with Alice for making him leave.

I turned towards her, accusing her with a pointed finger. "Why couldn't you just let it be?"

"Because," Alice grinned, "I call it like I see it. And you, dear cousin, have a crush on Lincoln."

.

.

.

Lincoln didn't come back the entire week. I didn't expect him to, not after the way I had treated him on Monday, but I still missed his company. I spent the rest of my days snatching food from Jessica, hiding from Jasper, and arguing with Alice.

Father came home early on Friday for my extended family's last supper. Esme had prepared a meal of braised lamb with herbs, red potatoes, and some green vegetables I couldn't identify. She passed out the plates as Jenks poured wine.

"This looks divine, Esme," Mother complimented her. "You've really outdone yourself."

"Thank you, Mrs. Swan," she replied.

Uncle James started a conversation with Father about his factories. "Absolutely booming business! Every time I think you can't get any richer, you do. How do you gain so much revenue?"

Father took a sip of wine before answering. "I keep my labor costs down, that's how. Negros around here will work for next to nothing."

Uncle James choked on his mouthful and swallowed without fully chewing. "Aren't you paying them the same as your white laborers?"

Father laughed. "Is that supposed to be a joke? Of course I don't pay them the same and they work twice as hard. They'll keep at it too because they know they can be replaced. It's all about the mighty dollar, little brother."

"The coloreds are fighting for equal rights in Washington, Charles. One day they'll change the laws and you'll lose every penny you ever made and then some."

Father didn't like being challenged and he placed his glass down. "You think those little nig—"

"Ahem." Mother cleared her throat, reminding Father there were children at the table. He glared, but changed his language.

"You think those Negros deserve equal pay? Absolutely not. They're uneducated, dumb as a box of rocks, and they're damn lucky I hired them at all."

I blinked at Father's blunt statement. They weren't dumb. Lincoln was really smart, even smarter than the boys I attended school with in Virginia. He could read and speak clearly and he was funny and …

My eyes trailed to Jenks, who hadn't moved a muscle. He remained quiet as expected, but his stoic expression ensured me he was listening to every word. His right foot shifted just barely to the left and I wondered how he felt about my father speaking about his kind in such a manner.

Surely it didn't bother him. He knew this was just how things were. But then I thought about Lincoln again and how ashamed he looked when I called him names.

It was heartbreaking.

"I'm telling you here and now, they are worthless, and I'll burn every last one of those cotton-pickers myself!" Father finished off his wine and gestured to our butler. "Jenks! More wine. Now!"

Jenks complied and picked up the wine bottle, carrying it towards Father. He poured it into Father's glass, but Father was anxious to take a sip before Jenks had finished. The alcohol spilled all over Father's expensive suit and across the white linen tablecloth.

Father roared and stood to his feet, yanking Jenks by his collar. "You fucking black dog! You did it on purpose, didn't you?"

Father slapped him across his face so hard it shook the entire table. Alice, Uncle James, and Aunt Victoria gasped at the same time.

"Charles, that's enough!" Uncle James warned.

Father only responded by punching Jenks, and his head swung to the side, the bleeding coming immediately as it gushed from his nose and mouth.

"Charles!" This time Uncle James raced from his chair and yanked my Father off of Jenks.

"Esme, go clean him up," Mother ordered her.

"Yes, ma'am." Esme wrapped her arm around Jenks, holding him upright as they left the dining room.

Father shrugged Uncle James off of him, straightened his suit, and sat back down. Mother wiped up the mess with her napkin as the rest of us remained shell-shocked.

"And that, James, is why you don't pay a Negro anything," Father snarled. "He's not worth the penny he begs for!"

For the first time in 16 years, I wondered if a colored man truly deserved to be treated in such a manner.

.

.

.

"Where have you been?"

Lincoln climbed through my window four days after the Jenks incident. Uncle James and the rest of the family had left immediately after supper, and I thought it would be a long time before we saw them again. Father didn't even tell his brother good-bye and I was sad to see them go.

"Oh, you know. Just traveling throughout the state, seeing whomever I please." Lincoln smirked and I was happy he was in a good mood.

"Smartass," I commented, sprawling out in the middle of the floor. "What's that in your hand?"

Lincoln handed me a book that was bound in leather and had worn edges. "This is the Kingdom of Haitha, that story I told you about."

"Oh!" I flipped through the pages, admiring the illustrations of a far-away land with an immense castle and evil dragon. "Is this for me?"

Lincoln nodded, grinning. "You can't be the only one giving gifts, you know."

"But it's your favorite."

He shrugged, sitting across from me. "Consider it a peace offering. An apology, if you will."

"Apology?" I asked, closing the book. "Apology for what?"

"For leaving. For making you feel like you had to touch me. Everything, I reckon. You are obviously disgusted by me and it isn't right to make you feel uncomfortable. You're my friend and friends don't do that."

I was flabbergasted. He was apologizing to me when he hadn't done anything wrong. I should have been the one apologizing. I looked into Lincoln's green eyes and all I saw was Jenks.

Their images blurred together, switching back and forth in a constant shuffle.

My heartbeat quickened and I couldn't describe what I was feeling.

Shame?

No. Yes.

Yes. I was feeling ashamed of how I had treated him and those spiteful words I had spewed. Lincoln was innocent, the most innocent person I'd ever met, and I'd done nothing but belittle him. He was black, sure, but he was also kind—much kinder to me than I deserved.

Instead, all I did was ask him a question. "We're friends?"

Lincoln shrugged. "I hope so. The only person who offered to be my friend was your cousin Alice and she's gone. I'd like to think we could be too. That's if, you want to."

My eyes narrowed. "This isn't some trick just to get back your book, is it?"

Lincoln rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air. "You caught me. I'm risking my life in the blazing heat, climbing a hundred feet into the air to offer a book you never asked for, only to swindle you and take it back. Ladies and gentleman, offer the woman an award. Detective Scarlett has closed the case!"

I burst into a fit of giggles and Lincoln grinned sheepishly. "Okay, friend, now that we're buds and all, what do you say to a game of Crazy Eights?"

"I've been locked up for almost two decades. You, Scarlett Swan, are going down!"

Edward Lincoln Masen was right.

He beat me three times that morning, fair and square. He gloated, like any boy would, and when the last card was laid down, he proclaimed victory by strutting around the room like an idiot.

I laughed so hard my sides started to hurt, I couldn't breathe, and all my sanity had flown out the window. I rolled over in hysterics and struggled to pull myself together only for him to start all over again. Lincoln puffed his chest out, placed his hands on his hips, and declared that the "Almighty Scarlett had fallen by the Knight of Spades."

"Care to surrender?" he taunted.

"Never!" I goaded, still giggling.

"Then we fight to the death!"

It was a blizzard of diamonds and hearts as masses of cards were thrown my way, cascading around me. I tossed them back, flinging the cards in rapid motion. Lincoln pretended to be defeated and fell to his untimely demise.

"Any last words?" I asked as I perched on my knees, hovering over him.

He grabbed his chest dramatically and heaved. "Yes … I … I want …"

I never found out the Knight of Spades' final request as he died heroically that fateful, glorious day.