14
Liza, the sewing woman, fell and hurt herself. Alice told me all about it. Liza was bruised and battered. She lost some teeth. She was black and blue all over. Even Tom Weylin was concerned.
"Who did it to you?" he demanded. "Tell me, and they'll be punished!"
"I fell," she said sullenly. "Fell on the stairs."
Weylin cursed her for a fool and told her to get out of his sight.
And Alice, Tess, and Carrie concealed their few scratches and gave Liza quiet meaningful glances. Glances that Liza turned away from in anger and fear.
"She heard you get up in the night," Alice told me. "She got up after you and went straight to Mister Tom. She knew better than to go to Mister Rufe. He might have let you go. Mister Tom never let a nigger go in his life."
"But why?" I asked from my pallet. I was stronger now, but Rufus had forbidden me to get up. For once, I was glad to obey. I knew that when I got up, Tom Weylin would expect me to work as though I were completely well. Thus, I had missed Liza's "accident" completely.
"She did it to get at me," said Alice. "She would have liked it better if I had been the one slipping out at night, but she hates you too—almost as much. She figures I would have died if not for you."
I was startled. I had never had a serious enemy—someone who would go out of her way to get me hurt or killed. To slaveholders and patrollers, I was just one more nigger, worth so many dollars. What they did to me didn't have much to do with me personally. But here was a woman who hated me and who, out of sheer malice, had nearly killed me.
"She'll keep her mouth shut next time," said Alice. "We let her know what would happen to her if she didn't. Now she's more scared of us than of Mister Tom."
"Don't get yourselves into trouble over me," I said.
"Don't be telling us what to do," she replied.