The African trinkets

Marianne Tate (Part 1)

Nolia had spent her first night in jail and the memory of it was extremely faint and distant. She didn't care though, Nolia was aware that something traumatic must have happened to her and her mind was now overriding her ability to remember the mundane hurts that she experienced.

Nolia didn't let herself sleep that night no matter how heavy her eyelids felt in fear of what her dreams might reveal to her. The harder she fought against rest the more she pondered the possibility of dreaming without the presence of a brain. Nolia knew that whatever filled her skull was no longer functional and was almost glad that this isolation of prison has saved her from the embarrassment of interacting with other people.

Nolia dreaded having Marcus sit across from her. She had say with her back to him out of shame and a folly attempt to save face. Nolia was aware that Marcus took particular interest in her but it seems that that was no longer the case. Yesterday he had spoken to her very harshly and accusingly with no just cause. Marcus didn't know anything about what she had done and who she was. He had no right to judge Nolia lest reprimand her.

Nolia suspected that Marcus had looked upon her, whether with disdain or appreciation, and it reminded her of the feel of Lance's eyes on her body. She had decided that they were all hopelessly the same. Nolia hadn't had a very large sampling of men but from what she observed throughout her life affirmed her suspicion of the underlying generic quality of the opposite sex:

Nolia remembered, as a young girl, the numerous times in which she witnessed the true and sole intention of men.

Rosie was nice enough to tolerate a seven year old in the kitchen with her. I was always so jealous of Rosie. She had just turned twenty, Rosie was young and beautiful and a talented baker. Lance's mummy loved Rosie's scones and praised the heavenly fluff of Rosie's baked treats. Lance's little sister, Vicky, eat herself into a sleepy stupor and I wished that I was allowed to stuff myself as much as her but servants weren't allowed to deviate from the usual menu of stale bread and diluted oats.

Anyway, master Tate only allowed Rosie to bake at night, Rosie told me that it was because he didn't want her to be distracted from her chores. Usually Rosie insisted on baking alone but after my determined afternoon of crying and pleading that she let me help her because it was my birthday, Rosie sighed and allowed my little fingers to play around with dough.

"Rosie, Rosie! When can I help you mix? I'm tires of kneading." My little knuckles hurt from the hard labour. I really wanted to bake something as yummy as whatever Rosie did so I could impress Lance. So that the next time we played house I could give him a real scone and not a rock that looked like a scone.

"Magnolia, honey, you can't put thin air into the oven. Come on, girl, you need to do the hard work first then you can be promoted."

"But making bread is boring!" I complained loudly.

"Shh! The whole house is sleeping and I guarantee that if you wake master Tate from his slumber then he will personally punish you with ten lashing." Rosie was usually very gentle and patient with me so when she scolded me her words stung me with the force of a quick slap.

I tried my very best not to cry and ignore the pain in my hands as I worked but I failed terribly. I sniffed as quietly as I could but Rosie must've heard me and felt bad for her harshness.

"I'm sorry, sweetie." Rosie apologized, "I just don't want you to get in trouble."

"Alright." I was still slightly mad but I could understand her reasoning. Rosie only wanted the best for me.

"Do you want to help me crack eggs for a new batch of biscuits?" Rosie suggested with a smile. My excitement vanquished my anger and all was forgiven.

I nod my head very fast. Rosie giggled and went to go get an egg basket while I took the kitchen cloth and tied it around my waist to act as an apron. She came back with a glorious pyramid of brown speckled eggs. I grabbed one and she quickly tapped my wrist.

"First let me show you how to-" Rosie started but stopped at the sound of the door opening. I didn't pay any attention to it, I just assumed that it was just another servant girl.

"Don't worry, I know how to do it! I've seen you do it a million times before." I turned around to go get a fork and whisk but I was stunned by the man that stood in the doorway. I had never seen master Tate this close before and Lance's observations were confirmed, that he was an immobilizing and intimidating sight.

I felt my hand slacken and the egg hurtled to the ground and broke. Like my stomach, Rosie fell down. She began cleaning up my mess and I just trembled. Lance's father was a tall man with a stare the shrunk you down instantly. The usual scowl that was on his face was replaced by another expression that I had never seen before but it was intense and directed at Rosie.

"Get off of your knees, Rose. The insolent child destroyed the egg, let her clean up the yolk." Master Tate's voice was of a low volume but it was powerfully low and vibrated through my little body then back again.

"Yes, master. I'm so sorry." I could feel how nervously tense Rosie had become. She turned to me and with a shaky voice told me to clean up the mess.

I ran outside to fetch a floor rag and a pale of water. I came back to find master Lance in close proximity with Rosie, "Is mistress Tate feeling poorly again? Shall I prepare a pot of tea to soothe her cough?" Rosie squirmed under his gaze.

"She's perpetually feeling poorly and I highly doubt that tea would remedy her illness." Master Tate said dismissively of his wife, "But seeing as you're willing to serve..." Master Tate whispered into Rosie's ear and in my innocence I did not understand his trail of thought.

Tears spilled down her face but that was the only sign that Rosie was crying. I had assumed that master Tate had shouted at her for letting me handle such delicate food so I decided to wait outside so as not to aggravate the situation. Master Tate, who usually stood with his hands behind his back, had his hands on Rosie's person.

"This is wrong." Rosie said with cowardly assertion.

"According to who?" Master Tate looked amused by what she said.

"In the eyes of The Lord, adultery is a sin and I, as a Christian woman, cannot comply." Rosie's fists balled up as if she were ready for a fight.

"Oh well, then forget your theology for an hour or so and seduce me with sin." Master Tate stole a kiss from Rosie's unwilling lips.

"And what of the consequence?"

"I am almost certain that God will not smite me where I stand for having a bit of fun." Master Tate's leer turned even my stomach.

Master Tate looked predatory and, even hiding outside, I felt scared. Rosie whispered something inaudible to my young ears and I assumed it was a plea of some sort. Master Tate smiled at whatever she said and caressed her breast. My breath caught, not from shock but uncertainty. This was the first exhibition of sexual activity I had ever seen. Lance had made reference to tickling and what not but I never truly understood.

"I'm not talking about divine retribution, master. What if I were to fall pregnant?" Master Tate forced her body against his and the only form of protest I could see from Rosie were her tears. I watched in awe as master Tate began to suck on Rosie's neck and forcefully fondle her body. Rosie looked painfully uncomfortable but she didn't object.

Master Tate came up for air to answer Rosie, "Try as you might, Rose, you will not deter me. Bastards are rather simple problems to fix."

"What will you do with us?" Rosie's once balled up fists opened again in defeated submission.

"If I answer you will you promise to silence yourself until requested to speak?" Rosie sniffed and slowly nod her head, "There will be no 'us' business. You will remain here until further notice while the bastard will be sold promptly after birth and live out it's mongrel existence in some far away place. See, now you don't have to worry about a thing, master has got everything sorted out." Master Tate said this as if he were giving Rosie some genuine peace of mind.

I could her master Tate muffle a command repeatedly against Rosie's neck. He stopped abruptly, held aggressively by the sleeve of her dress and spoke very clearly, "I told you to touch me."

His tone of voice was stern, as usual, and his mouth made the command an inch from Rosie's mouth. Master Tate moved his lips roughly over Rosie's and Rosie nervously wrapped her arms around him. Rosie's eyes were wide with fright, roved to the back door of the kitchen and we made awkward eye contact. Rosie visually ordered me to go away, stop looking, forget what I was seeing but I couldn't.

I was hypnotized by it all. Master Tate disrobed Rosie like he was unwrapping a present on Christmas Day. The nudity was enough to shame and embarrass me and I looked away. I stood with my back against the exterior wall of the kitchen. I could no longer see anything but the raven colored void that was the night time but I could hear the duet of moans and grunts that came from the kitchen.

I stood for a moment and knew that if I didn't sprint back to the servant cabin and pretend to sleep then my curiosity would have compelled me to peek and see for myself what actions created such noises. I made my way back and jumped straight onto my cot. I didn't even change out of my work dress or even kick off my worn boots.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to expel what I had just seen from my memory but the scene replayed on the back of my eyelids. At the time I couldn't help but feel an odd sensation in my general being. It was a relatively neutral sensation but I knew that it had the potential to be quite pleasing. Because of my young age I couldn't put a name to my feeling but looking back I believe it was a sort of awakening in a sexual sense.

Nolia must've nod off to sleep at the most vivid memory she could recall. She hadn't eaten or gotten sufficient sleep but her body prioritized a different need above all else. Nolia's neck ached, her hands itched and her lips tingled. She need to touch and be touched by someone, anyone all the time...