The Prodigy Slave, Book Two: The Old World: (Revised Edition 2020) Read online

  When they collected themselves, Wilson and Emerson then walked up the amphitheater stairs, stepping around bloodstains and three burned out torches along the way. From the middle of the stage, Emerson picked up a black Stetson hat. Recognizing the hat immediately, they knew Griff deserved the credit for why the amphitheater was the only thing left standing on the property. The torches, dried blood, and the hat were the only remnants that remained after the brutal hand to hand combat that ensued after Griff limped and shot his way through a hail of gunfire toward the beautiful landmark that the twins were now standing on. Despite all the bloodshed onstage, Wilson and Emerson did not find Griff’s body there. Simultaneously, the twins turned their heads toward their smoldering home, both suddenly fearing that Griff would be yet another gruesome discovery among the wreckage in the house.

  After glaring in disbelief at the carnage of their childhood home, Emerson and Wilson both turned toward one another, stared briefly, then lowered their heads, and exhaled in unison. Having braced themselves mentally and emotionally, the brothers finally got up the nerve to begin making their way toward the charred heap that once housed decades of their family’s memorabilia. With hearts weighed down by sorrow, the twins hesitantly began sifting through the blackened piles of wood. It was not long, however, before they emerged and walked over to their father, who was still waiting in the carriage in a near catatonic state. His loving sons both looked at him and did not say a word. The tears in their eyes spoke volumes about what they had just found.

  In their continued act of savagery, the night crusaders had tightly tied Ben and Anna Mae together and doused them with kerosene. They then set the opposite end of the house on fire first, so that the innocent couple could watch it begin to crumble around them while waiting helplessly for the flames to seek out their kerosene-soaked bodies. Wilson and Emerson found their charred bodies in the same position as the moment they met their fate: still huddled together in an eternal embrace.

  Simply from the somber look on his sons’ faces, William learned that not only would he be bringing in the new year without Lily and a home, but now, without Anna Mae and Ben. In that moment of realization, much like his home, William felt like he had truly been reduced to nothing. He emerged from his catatonic state and broke down into a heavy sob unlike anything his sons had ever seen. He wept with his face in his hands, all while silently wondering why helping a woman bring something beautiful to the world would ever warrant an act of such savage barbarism. William would have been astounded to learn that part of the answer to that had everything to do with a simple dinner conversation, initiated days earlier by a woman that he had never once met, but who knew him, Lily, and James Adams all too well.

  Chapter One

  Adams Plantation Business Dinner Meeting

  Saturday December 17, 1859

  Eight days before Winter Garden

  Mary Jo Parker had not been acting like herself for days. Her extreme personality shift was immediately noticeable after returning home from spending a few months with her cousin, Julia. Perturbed by her drastically different behavior since then, Mary Jo’s father, Joseph, had been in a constant state of worry over his only child. He did not think his concerns could get any worse, but when his daughter climbed into the carriage with him on this evening, his level of worry over her unusual emotional state shot up exponentially. The daughter he had tenaciously pampered for twenty-five years looked nowhere near like the one he normally saw whenever she was headed to business dinner meetings on the Adams Plantation. For the first time ever, his precious Mary Jo had not bothered to spend hours primping and priming herself. Her hair was flat, and her skin was free of foundations, eye shadows, and lip color. Even the dress she wore was casual and not overly fancy in comparison to her usual style. To put it simply, Mary Jo Parker looked plain. That was not the extent of the differences in her, though. If her father could peek inside of her head, he would have seen that even the contents of her mind had changed along with her appearance. On this excursion, she had not bothered to conjure up intimate conversation topics to discuss with James at dinner, nor had she considered what side of the table she should sit on to be sure that her best side was always in his view. Both calculated actions had always been top of mind for Mary Jo while headed to previous business dinner meetings on the Adams Plantation, but not this time. However, one constant remained: the thought of James looping repeatedly in her mind. This time, though, it was a memory that she wished she had the power to permanently erase from her subconscious.

  With that angering thought in mind, Mary Jo folded her arms across her chest and began to pout as soon as her posterior hit the carriage seat. That look of rage had been her resting facial expression since returning home from her vaction.

  “You all right, pumpkin?” Joseph asked, his voice wracked with concern as he gazed at his beloved daughter.

  “I’m fine daddy!” she spat, replying with the only three words her father ever seemed to hear from her over the last few days. She then loudly huffed and turned to stare out of the window.

  The visions plaguing Mary Jo’s mind had managed to turn her into an even more intolerably rude little monster than was her norm, to the point that even Joseph could no longer pretend not to notice. “Mary Jo, can you please tell me what’s botherin’ you, darlin’?” he begged, concern still heavy in his tone. “You ain’t said much since returnin’ from y’ur vacation. Ain’t hardly seen that pretty smile ‘a y’urs eitha’. This ain’t like you at all. Feels like somebody done stole my little girl while you were on that trip and sent back an imposta’ in ’er place.”

  “I said I’m fine daddy!” she yelled again, thoroughly annoyed with the numerous times he had asked about her emotional welfare since her return. She then turned to continue staring blankly out of the carriage window while the imagery she wanted to scrape from her brain continued to sour her mood.

  Joseph finally leaned back in his seat and did not prod his daughter further. He was desperate to alleviate her emotional distress, but he conceded for the moment and let the silence linger for the rest of their journey.

  When their carriage finally halted out in front of Jesse’s house, Mary Jo’s bizarre behavior persisted. She just sat there with her arms folded and her legs crossed and continued staring out of the opposite window while the driver stood there with his hand extended waiting on her to exit. “Ms. Mary Jo,” the driver politely called, trying to wrangle her attention.

  Mary Jo did not even bother to swivel her head in the driver’s direction.

  Unable to take it anymore, Joseph climbed back into the carriage and took hold of his daughter’s hand. “Mary Jo, pumpkin, I don’t know what’s botherin’ ya’, but ya’ got me scared as all hell. If you don’t wanna be here, we can reschedule this meetin’ for anotha’ day when you’re feelin’ betta’.”

  “For the love of God! I said, I’m fine!” Mary Jo spat, snatching her hand out of her father’s grip. Despite outward appearances, Mary Jo had been eager to attend this business meeting. She wanted to attend even though she knew for a fact that James was not home. For the first time ever, it was Jesse she was eager to see. She had some business of her own to handle with him. With that business in mind, she quickly made her way toward the exit of the carriage, finally ready to seize the opportunity she had been waiting for since returning from her vacation.

  On this visit, Mary Jo did not wait for her driver or her father to take her by the hand to help her emerge slowly like a queen who had just arrived at a ball in her honor. Instead, she evaded their hands and quickly climbed out of the carriage on her own. She then marched up the porch steps with her head down, breezed right past Jesse at the door, and went into the house without a word. She did not linger in the foyer as usual either. With James gone, she felt there was no need to double-check her hair and make-up in the foyer mirror as she had always done in the past. Instead, she stomped straight to her usual seat at Jesse’s dining room table, picked up the glass of wine that a
waited her and guzzled every drop without stopping.

  Joseph and Jesse entered the dining room shortly after Mary Jo. They chattered on for nearly an hour, discussing politics and business, ignoring Mary Jo’s odd behavior for the time being. She remained lost in her own world, staring at the plate full of food in front of her while fiddling with the contents she had laying in her lap. She simply could not bring herself to eat while an unwanted memory of James replayed in her head. For days, she had been desperate to make the torturous visions cease; she now felt there would be no better way to accomplish that than by purging the information trapped within her anguished mind. “Mr. Adams?” she suddenly said, interrupting the small talk between him and her father.

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  Mary Jo usually cringed when Jesse referred to her by any endearments, but she was oblivious to it on this occasion. “I’m just curious,” she began, as she took her fork and fiddled with her food again. “What reason did you say James went up to Ohio?”

  Jesse wiped his mouth with a cloth towel and snickered; he loved the fact that Mary Jo missed his son. As always, he was still hoping the pair would marry and cement riches for his family for generations to come. “Well, sweetheart, like I told you, he’s doin’ some research with a professor at the school up yonda’.” He turned to Joseph. “I swear he’s obsessed with stuffin’ all that medical jargon into his brain. Afta’ six years, you’d think he’s had enough,” Jesse laughed and turned his attention back to Mary Jo. “Anyhow, he’s gonna swing back down and pick up our house slave from the breeda’ afta’ she gives birth. He’ll be back soon enough, though. I promise ya’.” He smiled and winked.

  Mary Jo usually would have grimaced at the brief flash of Jesse’s unsightly brown teeth, but again, she was unaffected by him. She was silent for a moment while she picked at her peas and glanced at the contents in her lap. “Hmm, that’s odd, ‘cause that sho’ ain’t what it looked like to me.”

  Jesse was about to take another bite of his food, but then sat his fork down and looked at Mary Jo curiously. “What do ya’ mean by that?” he asked.

  “Well, I just spent a few months up in Athens, Ohio with my cousin, Julia. Whole time I’s visitin’ her, she was beggin’ me to go with ’er to some ol’ symphony everybody’d been ravin’ about around town. So just to appease her, we took a weekend trip to Jamestown, New York.”

  “Get on with it, Mary Jo,” her father impatiently prompted her. “What’s the point? We’re talkin’ business here.”

  “Well, my cousin works part-time as a tutor at a library near Ohio University, and I’d go with ’er quite often. I spent a whole lotta time around that campus. Did quite a bit ‘a shoppin’ in Athens town square too, and I neva’ once saw James anywhere around there. But ironically, of all places, I saw ’em in Jamestown, New York at that show.”

  “Don’t see no harm in that. He mentioned that he likes travelin’, and I’m sure his trip wasn’t all about business,” Jesse replied.

  “But you don’t unda’stand. I don’t think he was eva’ workin’ at that school with a professor at all doin’ research. I think he might ‘a been workin’ with a man named William … William Werthington.”

  “Can’t say as though I know who that is,” Jesse replied.

  The notion did not surprise Mary Jo at all.

  “William Werthington?” Joseph asked, looking perplexed. “The music composa’?”

  “Yes, that’s the one daddy. The one me and you saw when I’s just a girl.”

  “Well, not to be rude Ms. Mary Jo, but I still don’t see the problem,” Jesse interrupted.

  “I didn’t think much of it eitha’, ’til I realized who else he was there with.”

  “Who!? Come on spit it out Mary Jo!” her father demanded. “We got business to finish up here.”

  “That nigga’ girl.”

  Jesse’s expression immediately started to change. “What nigga’ girl?” he asked, his face suddenly turning red.

  “Your, house girl. One you say James dropped off at the breeda’s … Leela.”

  “Lily?” Jesse questioned.

  “Whateva’!” she rudely replied.

  “Watch your tone!” her father snapped.

  “You sure ’bout this?” Jesse asked.

  “I swear to you, Mr. Adams. I know it was her. I saw her with my own two eyes. She was up there … onstage.”

  “What the hell you mean onstage?!”

  “She was up there playin’ piano with William.”

  Jesse’s blood pressure instantaneously shot up and he broke out in a cold sweat.

  “You betta’ start explainin’ these wild accusations, Mary Jo!” her father erupted.

  “I admit, I wasn’t sure it was her at first. But then, afta’ the grand finale, she came walkin’ out and William introduced ’er as the composa’ of the show. She looked so different that I still couldn’t force myself to believe it was your house girl. Afta’ the show was ova’, though, I walked ’round back and saw ’er leavin’ the theata’ … with James. I even saw them headed into a post-show gala togetha’. It wasn’t ’til then that I’s thoroughly convinced that it really was her.”

  “This betta’ not be anotha’ one of your damn ova’dramatic stories!” Joseph yelled.

  “It ain’t daddy! I’m tellin’ the truth! I figured you wouldn’t believe me.” She picked up the contents in her lap. “So, I brought this,” she explained, sliding the contents over to Jesse. The document that Jesse quickly snatched off the table would not have made its way into his hands had it not been for a simple conversation that he had with Mary Jo months prior …

  During a business dinner meeting over the summer, Jesse had mentioned to Mary Jo that James was supposedly doing research at Ohio University. Upon hearing that, the scrupulous wheels in Mary Jo’s head immediately began to turn. She left that business meeting with a sudden desire to help her cousin, Julia, with her big move to Athens, Ohio in September. She knew that Julia had already arranged for an apartment close to the Ohio University campus, and that she had taken a temporary tutoring job near the school while she searched for permanent work as a teacher. Mary Jo was more than happy to help Julia settle into her new life in Athens, but her motive had nothing to do with being a loyal cousin. She was simply using Julia’s new residency to fulfill her obsessive need to be closer to James.

  By the time Mary Jo arrived in Athens, James had already set out on tour with Lily. He was nowhere around the college town during the time that Mary Jo had commenced to despicably using her cousin to be near him. None the wiser to that fact, though, Mary Jo stuck to her psychotic plan; she shopped at stores around the perimeter of the campus daily, attended weekend social events, restaurants, and any other public places that would increase her chance of “coincidentally” bumping into James. Weeks of gallivanting around Athens in over the top dresses had failed to produce the result Mary Jo wanted. But her belief that James was somewhere in that town continued to fuel her lunacy, as well as her desire to stay in close proximity to the university.

  While working at the library near Ohio University, Julia began hearing gossip about The Dream Symphony. Like all things that stirred up controversy, she found herself interested in seeing why everyone was buzzing about the unique display of musical artistry. In fact, she had become obsessed with the idea of seeing it and suggested to Mary Jo that they take a weekend trip to New York to see it. Mary Jo, though, had no desire to leave the vicinity of the school and ruin her chances of running into James. Julia’s persistence about the matter ultimately led to an argument between the pair.

  “Julia, I have no interest in seein’ some ova’blown show that ain’t worth a hill ‘a beans. My daddy’s always takin’ me to see some spectacle that ain’t hardly worth my time or his money!” Mary Jo had replied after her cousin had mentioned going to see The Dream Symphony for the fourth time in as many days.

  “But I think this is different, Mary Jo!” Julia had replied, feeling th
oroughly frustrated by how rigid she was being. “Every student I tutor goes on and on about how incredible the show is! They say a retired music composa’ named William Werthington had the show for a while on his estate, and it ain’t a soul in town that ain’t seen it.”

  “I know who William Werthington is!” Mary Jo gloated in a condescending tone. “My daddy took me to see ’em perform when I’s a little girl. He ain’t hardly worth watchin’ again!” she lied.

  “But it ain’t just William performin’ this time! They say it’s some young girl he discovered, who used to be a slave, playin’ most ‘a the music. I read she can hear a song just one time and replay the whole thing from memory on the piano!”

  Mary Jo’s mouth fell open and she squinted her eyes at her cousin. “You expect me to not only pay for a train ticket, but then pay to go see a show featurin’ some nigga’? A forma’ slave nigga’ at that?!”

  “But I’m tellin’ you, the way they say the show is done you don’t hardly eva’ see her anyway. Most folks ’round here say they done seen it two or three times, and they ain’t hardly thinkin’ ’bout the fact that it’s some Negro girl up there, ’cause the show is just that magnificent!”

  “Trust me! I’ll be thinkin’ about it! Ain’t no nigga’ eva’ gonna be worth me payin’ to go see!”

  “Oh, come on Mary Jo, Pleeease?!” Julia whined, “’Sides, won’t it be nice to get outta here for a while? This apartment is so small. It feels like it’s cavin’ in on me some days.”

  “I said I ain’t goin’! That’s final!” Mary Jo spat, her obsessive desire to see James solidifying her answer.

  Julia let out a frustrated sigh, went to her bedroom and slammed the door.

  Finally having settled a matter she considered absurd, Mary Jo went to fix herself a cup of chamomile tea to calm her nerves. Just before picking up the kettle from the stove, though, the title of the school’s newspaper laying nearby caught her eye: