MULATTO (Iyila) (Editing)

chapter thirty ~ Dedicated to Kate.

Slowly caressing a glass of liqour firmly in his grip, Gabriel gracefully savoured the view of the first morning of summer. Standing beside his window, he took in the picturesque view of the sky which appeared like a work of a young, vabriant, painter who had playfully splashed all the colours as he pleased. It was a three color pattern: a thick blue, some spray of white and fading yellow encircling the rising sun. He watched the early birds with diverse colour and build, soar through the open sky; displaying all manner of acrobatic styles while others sang along and a few calling each other.

The sight of his father's land marvelled him. It's width and breadth was beyond what he had seen the last time.

The vast cotton fields dotted with working negroes surprised him; the numerous negroes and their shelters; the sugar cane farm he had seen on his way to Anne's house; the indigo farm near the old church and the open fields that were yet to be cultivated thrilled him.

Yet, he had learned from Collete that his father was still acquiring more. Although he had always known his father to be industrious, but he considered it suspicious. Only within the span of four years, his father had acquired more than what he had spent years toiling for.

But Gabriel was bent on not interferring in his father's business. He did not desire to partake in Negro activity. It was despicable and dirty. He had planned on remaining neutral on that issue as long as he remained in Charleston.

Sighing, he gulped down the alcohol and returned to his table to refill it. Then he resumed his place near the window. He tried not to think of his father's business, instead he tried to enjoy the quiteness and tranquility that the morning brought. Except for the voice of overseers yelling orders at working Negroes.

He missed home. He missed his life in Illinios; his maid Abigail and Roman her son. He missed waking up every morning to sit at the varenda of his house with Roman at his side while they waited for the sun to rise before he buried himself in his books; and Roman preparing for school. Dr. Samson had advised it and Abigail implemented the routine. Surprisingly it worked and he found out that he didn't need his glass for almost anything.

He missed arguing with Dr. Samson in his study and his routine in Illinios. Just a week away from them and it already felt like ages. He wondered what the lively lad was doing and the latest mishap he had committed.

Perhaps he was running around with Abigail pursuing him while issuing warnings and possible threats. He smiled. He couldn't wait to marry Anne and leave Charleston for good. Only to return on short visits to Susan and Collete. Nothing more than that. He was already regretting his coming, and with his father's disdain for his profession, he couldn't wait to pick up his box and run away, like before.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He immediately turned to the door. He couldn't imagine who it was. Iyila did not resume not until eight thirty; as he instructed and he knew his relatives too well that none... except Zachary and John could break their sleep. He wondered if his father or Zachary had come to finish yesterday's argument. The knock came again.

He sighed and said, "Who is it?"

"Gabriel? Are you awake?" It was his mother, just the person he had not expected. That instant Gabriel became alert. She could reprimand him for drinking so early.

"Gabriel, are you decent? May I come in?" she quieltly said. "Yes, yes," he answered as he rushed to the table to drop the drink and hide the bottle. But she caught him in the act. He couldn't move when he felt her heavy gaze on him.

"Gabriel, isn't it rather too early to be drinking?" she firmly said. Already caught like a common thief, he decided to pour himself more drink.

"Isn't it rather too early to be awake, mother?" he joked and grinned as he stood upright. She didn't smile but frowned with disappointment on her face.