"Ruin and Redemption"

Lizzie Alone in the Big House

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Another long year passed. Lizzie was growing more and more frustrated with life on the plantation. She continued to study and  passed the exam to teach older students, but she was still reluctant to leave the plantation. It was all she had ever known, except for the few brief trips accompanying her father to Charleston--- and that was not far at all compared to the great country of the North. Lizzie was worried about her father, too. He seemed to be so much older now. She hated to think of the time when he would die, and she would be left here alone with Patsy. Life seemed cruel. She couldn’t seem to get Michael out of her head.

Sometimes, it seemed as if he were right here, in the same room, watching her, wanting her to say something to him. But then she would turn, and nobody would be there. She always felt disappointed and even more lonely.

Thank God, her father was still here. Every day she was grateful for that small mercy of having her father to talk to and share h life with. She sometimes thought of having more debutant balls, or of visiting Josiah; But then she would feel guilty and angry with Josiah and herself. How could she even think of having fun, dancing? She had not had the ball that night when it could have done some good--- when possibly the invitees would have chosen to accept her invitation, rather than murder the love of her life. What good could possibly come of them now? 

She hoped Michael was well wherever he was, but wished more than anything that he were still on the Earth with her. If only Michael were up North somewhere and she could join him! She just didn’t have the courage to go alone. What would become of Michael’s children if she left, anyway? Should she take them with her, or let Patsy raise them all alone? It was unthinkable to give them back to Scarlett and allow them to go to the fields with their mother. Lizzie hated the fields. Sometimes she would rather stay cooped up than go outside have to watch the bent slaves working her father’s land on her way to the barn. After watching for a few minutes, she felt disgusted with herself, and was tempted to break the few fine furnishings and family heirlooms that they still had.

And yet, when she went to bed at night, and pulled the covers up over herself, she was very grateful that she was not a slave. When she wound the phonograph and listened to a record from Paris, or took a leisurely meal, or went for a trot, she was immensely grateful for the things she still had. And she was especially grateful to be free when she curled up in bed with a favorite book, knowing she was enjoying a privilege no slave could legally participate in. She would not trade her place for that of one of her slaves, even if she only had to cook and work in the house like Patsy.

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A few months had passed; It was Autumn now. The large oaks right off the porch were full of red, green and gold leaves. They cascaded onto the ground, and covered the lawn. Lizzie had already opened the window to get some sunshine, so she was first at the door when Derrick arrived on his horse. Lizzie didn’t know whether to be glad to see him and grateful for his company, or annoyed by the interruption in her daily routine.. Derrick's views on slavery increasingly diverged from her own. Sometimes she felt it was a necessary evil, but other days she just wanted to get rid of it, free every slave she could, and worry later about how her meals would get cooked and how she would put food on the table. Teachers didn’t make much, but she imagined she could at least feed herself on the salary she would be able to make, even if she couldn’t feed Patsy or Michael’s children--- Which of course, she had to do, somehow. She felt responsible for them, although, she reminded herself, Scarlett was still their mother. She was afraid to think how they might look at her if Scarlett ever told them that she had almost whipped her to death. Would she seem like a monster to them, too?