Southern Helle (An Interracial Romance Story)

Chapter 8

Elena sat outside on the back steps shucking corn. I started up the steps around her. “Wipe your face and dress.” She told me. I stopped and looked down to my dress. Tufts of dirt and grass peeked out in the seams. I brushed off the dirt off both my dress and face.

“I know what you were doing? I know you saw what happened to Jennifer. I mean you did have to clean up her blood. We don’t need another death under our belt.” 

I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t-“ I started to deny. 

“Don’t,” She cut me off. “I saw you kiss him. I’m warning you because I know it’ll break Mary’s heart if Massa murders you. You know you’re like a daughter to her.” 

I swallowed a large lump in my throat. I nodded curtly.

“Go, cause they need you in the kitchen.” She said and nodded her head towards the house.

I stepped into the house and heard lots of yelling from upstairs. I knew it was Master creating all that noise. He was banging around upstairs and I didn’t know, nor did I care to know why. 

When I didn’t see anyone walking around or doing anything, I knew they were all in the kitchen hiding from Master. That’s exactly what I’m going to try to do too, but the distance between me and the kitchen is way too much of a distance to cross. 

I decided I could try to sneak through the dining room, but I would have to get there first. My stealth skills are terrible and Master saw me trying to creep to the dining room. 

“Helle,” He shouts. His booming voice nearly startles me out of my skin. 

I slowly rotated towards him. “Yes, Massa?”

“Come here, please.” 

“Alright,” I sighed. I ascended the stairs begrudgingly. The door to December’s room held on for dear life to the last hinge. 

Master was standing in the middle of December’s room with a sledgehammer in his hand and sweat on his brow. The sleeves to his white button down shirt were rolled up to his elbows and his feet were bare. Master’s feet are rarely bare.

Master doesn’t like people watching his feet unless they are cleaning his body. I don’t know why, his feet aren’t that ugly. I could smell the stench of liquor. He had been drinking and not the usual glass of brandy he has every day. No, he’s been drinking like cups of it. 

The dressing table against the wall was smashed into smithereens. “It’s all my fault.” He confessed. He brought the sledgehammer up and launched it into the dresser. 

He dragged it out of what was left of the dresser. “I sent him there. He’s dead because of me.”

My eyes widened at him. I didn’t know if I should ask for clarification or just wait until he cleared it up. I chose the latter. 

“I didn’t sign him up, contrary to popular belief.” He waved his hand around to include everyone, but he really just meant August.

“I got the papers for recruitment in the mail. I was just going to throw it out. I would be damned if I have one of my son’s out there risking their lives for this god forsaken country. They would just have to go on with war without the Belle men.” He wiped the sweat off his face with his bicep. 

“They must’ve sat idle on my desk for too long because December found them.” He rummaged a bottle of whiskey out if his trousers. He took a gulp out of the bottle and hissed at the burning sensation in his throat. 

“Before I knew it, he got his uniform and he was ready for war.” He paused pensively. “I could’ve stopped him. I should’ve stopped him but I let him go. I let him think I was okay with him risking his life for this country. Tuh,” He grunted. He looked up at the three portraits on the wall. 

One of them was a family portrait with December, August, Master and his wife. They all looked so happy. December and August were so young and adorable. Another one was of just the three men. They looked very sad. It wasn’t like they were crying or anything; it was all in their eyes.  I couldn’t see the third one from here, but I knew there were only two people in it. 

“This country ain’t do a god damned thing for this family. They took my wife, they’re trying to take my business, and now they take my son. My father built this business from the ground up with virtually nothing. HOW DARE THEY?” He threw the sledgehammer into the wall instead of the dresser. 

I guess he decided there wasn’t much left of the dresser to keep attacking it. 

I stepped back into the hallway to put more space between us. I didn’t want any debris to fly and hit me. I bumped into August’s chest when I stepped back and he looked at me. Then he looked into his brother’s room. His eyes were filled with rage, but he tried to tell me that everything would be okay. 

“What did you do?” August yelled taking sight of his dad’s wreckage.

“I’m angry, August. So, I’m doing something to soothe me.”

“Don’t you think I’m angry? Do you see me taking it out on December’s stuff? What the hell is wrong with wrong with you?” August interrogated. 

“You know better than to talk to me like that.” 

“Or what? You’re going to make join the war so I could die like December?”

Master dropped the sledgehammer and it collided with the wood floor with a heavy ‘Thud’. He slowly advanced towards August. The look in his eyes was murderous. Master pushed his chest against August’s.

My breathing stopped. 

“I’ve lost my dad, my mom, my wife, and now my oldest son in my 43 years of life. Don’t make me an orphan, a widow, and childless.” Master warned. 

“I’ve never been a son to you. Messing up was my hobby. December was your real son. He did everything you wanted him to be. Nice little puppet you made him into.”

“Watch it.”

“Come on, dad.” August taunted. “Go to your limits.”

Masters’ jaw tightened and so did his fists. He clenched his collar and pushed him against the banister. 

I didn’t even know I was screaming until I saw movement downstairs. Mary and the rest of the staff came out of the kitchen. 

Master started choking his son and when I say choke I mean until asphyxiation. All the blood in his body collected into his face as he pressed his weight onto August’s throat. August’s feet dangled off the floor. 

The banister started to crack under such pressure. I could foresee it breaking if Master didn’t get August off it. 

Any second now…

Some guards started up the stairs to break them up, but before they could even reach the top stair, the banister broke and August and Master tumbled down to the ground floor.

It’s like everything happened in slow motion. It took like a minute for the Belle men to get to the floor, the guards to run back down stairs and the kitchen staff to jump out of the way. Broken wooden legs cascaded around them.

Both August fell on top of his dad and August just started to pound his fists into Master’s flushed face.  They rolled around, each of them getting the upper hand, but August got more punches in.

The guards broke up the duel between progenitor and progeny. Two guards held both men back from each other. They glared at each other like they wanted to set each one on fire. I watched from the broken banister.  

“Get out.” Master sneered at his son. He spat out a wad of blood and mucus close to August’s shoe. 

“Gladly,” August replied. He started to walk out the house, and because the guards were still on him he shrugged them off rudely. He gingerly touched this neck where his father’s hands were just a minute ago. He stumbled down the stairs and into the night.