A Jewel in the Dirt - 9. Hanging at Poise

"Now you are one race, one community. Women and men." spoke the Great Mother as she presented the women with the first group of freshly created men. "You carry the divine fire within you, but they are the spark igniting it. But do not forget, my daughters: men are weak and need your guidance. Lead them! Teach them faith, obedience and loyalty! And punish them when necessary."

The women received the men and thanked the Great Mother before declaring their claims. With colorful ribbons they made the men's allegiance clear- and symbolically put them in chains.
They led them, taught them, punished them. But they also loved them - and what they loved, they protected.

~

Over the next two weeks, Dante became fully aware that 'taking care of a household' could obviously mean different things. In his old world, it was more meant as the task of the overseer of the house, to keep an eye on everything, to delegate and supervise the tasks. There were slaves for cooking, slaves for cleaning and laundry, slaves for serving, slaves for childcare. Here on the farm, all of this was expected of each and every house slave.

Dante hated cleaning - so it took forever and never turned out the way it was supposed to. He lacked the flair for cooking. Laundry was easy for him, but it was not enough to fill a day, as was serving. As for the children, he was glad not to meet them more often than necessary. He felt a little useless, a little gratuitous, because as big as the house was, it wasn't really that much work when several slaves did nothing but take care of said house all day every day. It reinforced the thought, the dull feeling which had slowly settled in him, that he didn't fit in here.

One positive point was that they were allowed to put on long clothes at the turn of the month, because it was slowly getting cooler in the house. At the next change of the month they would get warm slippers, and although it seemed silly to Dante to be excited about something as trivial as slippers, he had to confess that he would treasure them; he hated going barefoot.

Furthermore, it was amazing how much and yet little could happen in two weeks.
The corn harvest began.
Mistress Alice spent two nights at Valentine's.
The Mitchells went over to the Washingtons' for dinner one night as a group- the house was eerily empty and quiet, while the house slaves sat comfortably in the kitchen, feasting illegally.
One morning the house shook because Miss Britney and Blaise were yelling at each other on the basement stairs- it was about honey, but Dante didn't want to know the details and an angry Miss Britney was best avoided anyway.
Miss Sarah spent a few days in the hospital and came back with the news that they would probably take the baby sooner than nature intended.

~

For some reason, it seemed like a bad omen to Dante that Mistress Alice was out of the house on the very day Tom returned to work. Frank seemed happy about it, despite what had happened, and seemed downright reconciled that evening. Dante had known enough slaves in his life to feel even worse about it. Moreover, Mistress Alice did not return for dinner, and even when Dante went to bed, she had not come back. Maybe, he thought, adjusting the pillow, she was staying with Valentine or a friend...

As Dante went to the bathroom, he paused- a sigh came from the bed. He could barely see his mistress in the morning darkness, but she was there.

Good.

He continued on his way, pushed open the bathroom door- and paused again. "Oh..."

Valentine stood in the darkness in front of the toilet, one hand on the flush, wincing in shock at Dante's surprised exclamation.

"S-sorry, sir, I didn't mean to startle you," Dante stammered, and Valentine let out a shaky hiss. "I didn't know-"

"It's okay." Valentine seemed to nod, and then Dante winced as the flush gurgled loudly. He stepped aside as Valentine passed him and climbed back into bed with his girlfriend without another word. He was naked, Dante realized, and the thought that the two of them might not have cared one bit that a slave was sleeping behind the thin wall to the next room was a little disconcerting.

As he washed his hands after using the toilet, it occurred to him that Valentine had not done just that. Shouldn't a doctor-to-be know better?

He studiously ignored the cuddling couple and set about beginning his day's work.

Dante hurried from the basement upstairs, dodging Mikey who was heading down with a basket on his arm, then glanced over his shoulder as quick footsteps came down the stairs from above: Valentine, who was tying his hair as he walked and nodded to Dante, then gestured with his head to the side. Dante nodded back, eager to see what was coming. He wasn't sure if he liked Valentine or not, because the young man exuded a confidence in everything which scratched hard at arrogance.

Nevertheless, he followed him to the front door, where they stopped and Dante was intensely scrutinized. It almost felt like a challenge and Dante looked back intensely; there were still a few red marks on Valentine's neck from their lovemaking.

"Do you think you could make her happy?" Valentine asked so suddenly that Dante blinked at him, dumbfounded at first. Where did he get that idea? Because Dante had been looking at those pseudo hickeys?

"With all due respect, sir, but that's your job," Dante finally replied, clasping his hands behind his back.

With a thin smile, Valentine nodded, but considering that he and Mistress Alice were getting married in plus/minus seven months, he didn't seem very convinced. "I know. Just asking."

"Don't you want to marry her?" Dante wanted to know, and while he was still mentally cursing himself for that question, a strange expression flitted across Valentine's face.

"Yes, of course I do," he said with a smile that seemed as unconvincing as the first. "Alice is a wonderful woman, smart, successful, confident..."

Successful? pondered Dante, but Valentine kept talking:

"I know you're a smart guy from Denser's Port and know certain laws, but I'm actually a free man- quite legally- and officially the heir to the Washington farm, even though I have a female cousin."

Dante frowned; Valentine had three younger brothers, but no sister, and only his mother's brother had produced a daughter with a much younger wife two years ago- the legal background to that would have been interesting indeed, especially since everyone here seemed perfectly happy with the illegal first-son rule.

Valentine's smile widened. "There are a few clauses to preserve family ownership. Funny enough, it's those very side paths that allow me to have my career now. But the farm still always needs a mistress." That did nothing to dispel Dante's strange vibe about Valentine's feelings.

"So it's more of a should than a want, right?"

"I never said that," Valentine dismissed with an artificial-looking exasperated frown.

"Then why do you want to know if I could make her happy?" Dante tilted his head and Valentine's smile returned, but this time there was something else underneath. Mockery perhaps, a certain condescension in any case, maybe something dangerous.

"Because otherwise with your attitude, I think you're making her very unhappy."

Dante had not expected such an answer, and he was left speechless as Valentine turned away without a greeting and stepped out into the fine drizzle.

~

Mistress Alice leaned against her desk and looked thoughtfully at Dante, who had already been pondering all day whether he should dare talk to his mistress about her relationship. Or at least about those strange clauses in the law that Valentine had mentioned. But even that would have meant admitting that he had talked to Valentine, and it would raise the question of why they had talked about it. Dante decided to let it go for now and see if he might find something else to back up his doubts.

"You're decidedly taciturn today," Mistress Alice said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Possible." He tilted his head in implied agreement and she raised a brow.

"Dante, you're so different today that Seth asked me if everything was all right with you. Are you getting sick?"

"What, no, everything's fine." He stood up a little straighter, shook his head and put on a smile.

His mistress rolled her eyes. "My dear Dante Jeremy Sapphire-Mitchell"- the fact that Dante had a middle name he was hearing for the very first time in twenty-six years- "I'm not blind, and Seth isn't stupid. What's your problem?"

He had no idea what to say to that, so he kept silent.

"Consider my question an order," she said seriously after a moment of silence.

Dante wasn't sure if she was taking the problem seriously or just wanted it out of the way- but it didn't change the fact that he had no answer for her. "I don't know, mistress," he said as honestly as he could.

"Do you feel uncomfortable here? Treated badly? Don't you get along with the others? Anything like that?" she wanted to know. Still serious, but accompanied by a subtle frown; maybe she really did care about the answer, if Dante had one.

He shrugged.

Mistress Alice sighed. "Dante... please."

"I don't know, Mistress."

"Do you have a problem with Val?"

"No."

The answer must have come too quickly, because she pursed her lips. "I can certainly understand that it's an unpleasant thought to change household again in the foreseeable future already, but I can promise it will be the last time for you."

Now it was Dante's turn to sigh. "I don't have a problem with Valentine or the future, but I don't know what the problem is either." He was used to changing households, so that was the least of his potential problems.

"I want you to be honest with me."

"I know that, Mistress." He nodded seriously and could see that she was relenting.

"All right... Frank asked me if I thought you'd be willing to continue working with him and Tom."

Puzzled, Dante raised a brow. "For the rest of my sentence days?"

"No. Indefinitely." She made a suitably vague gesture. "I think he likes you. And that's saying something, because other than to Tom, he's never... opening up to any other person but me-" She paused and looked to the side.

A little disconcerted, Dante watched as she chewed on her lower lip and then took a deep breath, sighed, and only then looked up again.

"Frank... has always been very shy and after the accident he really withdrew. I don't know how Tom did it, but somehow he got through to Frank."

TJ's reference to the concern that Tom might do unseemly things to Frank flashed in Dante's brain, and as if Mistress Alice had read that thought, she said:

"I know some people here are worried that Tom- because of his sexual attitude- might take advantage of Frank. First, I have talked to Tom about this and no, that is not the case, because Tom only sees Frank as a little brother. Second, Frank is obviously not mentally capable... or in condition... or maturity level... to comprehend the issue."

In the tiny pause she took, Dante was minimally annoyed that she simply assumed someone would have already explained Frank's situation to him.

"Pa tried to talk to him about it a couple of times- after all, his physical development hasn't stopped- but apparently Frank couldn't do anything with it at all."

A subtle frown crept onto Dante's forehead, for Frank had seemed to him more like no one wanted to explain things to him, but then again, father and son could have just been talking past each other.

Mistress Alice sighed. "What I was really getting at... Frank seems to have come to trust you."

Dante nodded as she looked at him strangely- he had noticed that.

"That's why I'd be happy if you decided to do this, but"- she raised a forefinger- "I'm not ordering you to. If you want to give the matter a second chance- or a first real one, however you may see it- I will have a serious word with Tom. Frank was disappointed and that got through to him, but I'm not getting into a mercy plea a second time."

"I... have a choice?" Dante asked, puzzled.

His mistress nodded seriously.

"Oh... well then..." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to weigh housework against woodwork. When he thought about cleaning, it wasn't a hard decision. During the days he'd worked in the woodshop, he'd at least felt useful. But having Tom in close proximity each day the whole day...? He chewed on his lower lip, trying to assess the chance of at least a truce. And if he decided for the housework and Tom heard about it somehow, he would for sure mock Dante for being a chicken- his pride itched just thinking about it. "I'll give the wood a chance. Including Tom."

Mistress Alice smiled weakly. "Get your work stuff together, and I'll go down and talk to Tom."

~

Dante spent two days relatively tense, but Tom behaved as if nothing had ever happened. Sure, Dante had to endure a lot of mockery and jokes again, but he also found a sore spot with Tom, or actually two: religion and being a slave. Wrestling verbally was far more enjoyable than physically, and had the nice side effect of repeatedly making Frank laugh. Accordingly, Dante eventually relaxed and felt quite comfortable after a few more days.

Unfortunately, however, his new day's work reinforced the feeling that he didn't fit in. He was only supposed to come to the house early for dinner preparations- also so he could shower beforehand- and just sitting down at the ready table for lunch was strange.

Mistress Alice didn't want him as a personal slave, a house slave he wasn't, but a real working slave neither.

No one really seemed to want to take responsibility for him, too. Seth apparently wavered on whether to think of Dante as a helping hand or a burden to be employed, and Blaise phrased it more as a request than an order the two times Dante was supposed to help him. Tom and Frank didn't care about orders, requests, or instructions anyway- what had to be done was done, no matter by whom, because they were a team.

~

Dante threw on the heavy work jacket and almost tripped over his own feet because Frank, as a jest, grabbed hold of the outstretched sleeve before Dante's arm was all the way in. "Hey!"

Frank grinned broadly and let go.

"Boys..." Blaise's deep voice had an annoyed undertone.

"Hey, Pa..." Frank raised a brow questioningly, while Dante just paused, hoping there wasn't an unpleasant surprise right away so early in the morning.

"Can you take care of the honey delivery?" Blaise asked, pulling a few folded sheets from the breast pocket of his overalls.

"Sure." Frank said confused. "But isn't Adam in charge of the honey?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's already bottled, son, it's just a matter of packing the boxes. At the Braddocks, a couple of sheep have wandered off and we'll need all eyes to find them. And, of course, someone to take care of the animals here."

Frank nodded and Dante said with a shrug:

"Got it. It's not that hard. What time do we have to be ready?"

"Jason will be here around eleven," Blaise replied, handing Dante the papers. "The boxes and upholstery material are already set up."

"Okay..."

On the way to the shed where the honey supply was, Frank grumbled under his breath incomprehensibly, while Dante wondered what this farm actually didn't have. He hadn't seen any hives or anything like that, but he wasn't really sure what they looked like either. Tom didn't seem overly enthusiastic as well, if his pained look was any indication, but without any outright grumbling, they got to work.

The whole thing was gradually turning into a disaster. The large and medium jars were round, the small ones hexagonal, like honeycombs, and this made it quite difficult to pack them all together into the boxes. Moreover, Dante, studying the papers, noted:

"Wait a minute, something's wrong here."

"What?", Tom wanted to know with a roll of his eyes, pausing because he had actually already wanted to get the handcarts.

"There are always even numbers of jars in the storage boxes there, and we packed an even number of each of the large and medium ones... so why are there odd numbers left in both of them?" For a moment Dante and Tom looked at each other uneasily, then Frank gave an ominous sigh.

"We'll have to check it. Otherwise the trouble will be on us."

They checked and re-sorted the boxes and jars and found a mistake, but now Tom asked:

"Dante, how many small boxes are on the list? Five or six?"

"Uh, seven... wait, where's the seventh box?"

So they started a second time to recount and match everything, and when they finished just before eleven, Tom grumbled:

"I'd rather have been looking for sheep."

Dante sighed and heaved a box onto the handcart. "I don't. I hear they're faster and nimbler than you'd think."

"Yeah," Tom grinned broadly, "but so am I."

Frank chuckled softly, while Dante gave Tom at least a wry smile.

A few minutes later they were pulling the two handcarts across the farm. Blaise waved at them to hurry up- apparently Jason was already there.

Jason Parker, a small wiry man, leaned waiting beside his open van, next to him a young woman in a work coverall which was pretty much maxed out by her sensuous curves.

"Hi, Frank." she said with a somewhat flirtatious smile and Frank nodded back.

"Hello, Lucia, hi, Jason."

Jason nodded silently and patted the loading area promptingly. There were already a couple of boxes in the very back and Dante was reaching for the first one on his handcart when Lucia, turning to Frank, asked:

"Is the delivery okay?"

"I hope so," he grumbled, looking to Dante, who pulled out the now plenty crumpled papers.

"We've counted and checked several times," he said, but Lucia merely gave him a disdainful look before literally snatching the papers out of his hand.

"Damn." she said after a quick glance at them, and Dante got a bad feeling. "They'll raise a stink if something's wrong."

Jason tapped against the van and, in surprise, Dante saw him make hand signals- apparently he was mute.

Lucia nodded, gave a quick non-verbal response, then said sharply: "We'll check the boxes together."

Just as obvious as Lucia's dislike of working slaves was, was her interest in Frank, who, however, didn't care in the least. If the mood hadn't been so tense, Dante might have found the situation almost amusing. But really only almost...

Tom was also tense and pulled a grim face.

"You!", Lucia then barked at Dante.

"Yes, miss?"

"There's a small glass missing. Go and get it."

"Yes, miss..." He grabbed a handcart and headed out. If the Parkers had had a schedule, it was now thoroughly out of sync, but basically that wasn't his problem. This damned meticulous check had been Lucia's idea, after all.

He took the handcart to the shed, grabbed a small honey jar, and crossed the grounds again; to save time, he slipped into the house through the back door- straight through was shorter than around on the outside.

And then he nearly ran into Miss Britney.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked angrily, and before a stunned Dante could respond, she added: "And what have you got there?"

He raised the honey jar. "Miss Parker sent me out to get a missing jar," he said.

"The Parkers left five minutes ago and Tom just told me everything was fine," Miss Britney said emphatically, and her tone alone told Dante he was in trouble.

"Tom and Frank can testify that Miss Parker-"

"Haven't you been listening to me?" Miss Britney interrupted him brusquely. "The Parkers left. With a correct delivery."

Dante swallowed and nodded. "Okay..." Perhaps they had miscounted as well. He had probably passed Tom and Frank by trying to go through the house. Wait- when and where and how had Tom let Miss Britney know?

"What's the matter?" Miss Carolyn wanted to know, turning the corner. With reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose and a thick pack of files under her arm, she looked unusually serious.

Before Dante could open his mouth, Miss Britney had grabbed his wrist and pulled it up along with the honey jar in Dante's hand.

"We've got a petty thief here with a crappy lies construct."