The Private Scrapbook

by Cadabra

Chapter 27: Broken

Chapter 27: Broken

It was not hard for Keen Eye to find Smithy in the Everfree Forest after she had stopped underneath the tree, for her crying seemed to mix so easily with the baby’s. Now that she had been successfully detained, Smithy was locked in a spare bedroom since the slaves still hadn’t finished cleaning up her bedroom. It was there that she wailed and sobbed the afternoon away as the rest of the house prepared for the return of Stinking Rich.

As the hour drew nearer, Tess was let into the room with fresh clothes for her mistress. She could see broken glass, upturned furniture, torn fabric, and dismantled window treatments littered around the room as she walked in, all the results of Smithy taking out her aggression.

Tess found the mistress of the house lying in a disheveled heap on the bed, letting out an exhausted hiccup as her only sign of life. “You must be ready, misses,” Tess said gently, concern in her voice as she laid out a few dresses for Smithy to choose from before she went to stoke the dying fire.

It felt good to kick a dress off the bed before rolling over, but Tess was expecting Smithy to behave difficultly. “A fine selection, misses,” she said as she set a few hot pokers in the fire to use in curling her mistress’s hair. “Master Rich will surely agree with your choice in dresses. Come now, we must get you dressed.”

Smithy let out a stubborn grunt as Tess tried to get her out of bed. “I ain’t budgin’,” she protested, pushing the slave away before burying her face in a pillow to hiccup some more.

Tess let out a frustrated sigh as she sat next to Smithy on the bed, stroking her mistress’s loose golden hair. “Please, misses,” she begged. “It is your duty to Master Rich to be dressed when he comes home, just as it is my duty to dress you. I know it is not as you wish, but it must be done if we do not wish to face the consequences.”

Smithy rolled her head over to make eye contact with the slave begging her to get dressed. “One condition,” she said, followed by a loud hiccup. “I wanna know what happened. I wanna know why nopony would tell me what was goin’ on and why everypony’s actin’ how they are.”

Knowing that this was the only way to get cooperation, Tess set a chair upright for her mistress to sit in. “We were instructed to do so,” she explained as she brushed out Smithy’s long yellow hair. “Master Rich is very angry, misses, which is why he hired the guard. Before he and his men left, he had Toby hanged.”

Smithy hated how the slaves all called each other by their slave names. “His name’s Bladire!” Smithy corrected.

Tess shook her head sadly as she continued to brush. “No, misses,” she protested gently. “His name is Toby. It is a good name to be given, misses.”

Turning around in frustration, Smithy grabbed the hoof that was brushing her. “Why do y’all just accept that?” she fumed. “Bladire was the only one of ya who did anythin’ 'bout yer slavery! It’s like y’all are just rollin’ over and takin’ it like a dog instead of fightin’ like a pony!”

Tess turned away from the angry pony she was brushing, trying to hold back the tears she wished to shed. “Toby was a fool, as are you, misses,” she said, looking sadly at Smithy’s reflection in the dressing table’s broken mirror. “It was a fools errand we took trying to be free, and so many of us blame you for everything.”

The tension in Smithy’s face faded as a wave of guilt rolled over her. “I… I’m so sorry,” she said, her shoulders slumping as she looked sorrowfully upon the slave.

Tess turned her head slowly, wiping a trickling tear from her eye. “I do not blame you, misses,” she admitted, a small smile on her face as she went to resume her duties. “I know that your heart is thinking where your mind should be and that you meant no harm upon anyone. But what you saw as love, others are seeing as selfishness. To have loved Toby for yourself, you have caused more misery than you ever indented.”

For the first time that day, the two women looked upon each other honestly. Smithy noticed the fine wrinkles that tracked along Tess’s face, each line telling a broken story of its own. Judging by the fine lines, Tess must have been her mother’s age. "Is that why y'all have been actin' so cold towards me?" she asked, feeling ashamed to see Tess nodding.

Tess set down the brush after finishing with it. "Those who remain regret trusting you," she explained as she rummaged in a broken jewelry box for something pretty to put in her mistress’s hair. "When we returned and faced our punishment, Master Rich decided which of us to keep and which were no longer needed. He sold about half of us, including Amos's son. That is why you saw him upset today."

It hurt to think that her ignorance had caused Amos such pain. “I swear, I didn't know!" she said in a panic, her breathing quickening from the stress. “Is that why Lizza was so rough on me today? Is she mad at me too?"

There was a long silence as Tess tied back the golden mane into an up-do. “Lizza is good to the child,” she said as she went to retrieve a hot poker from the fire. “While she feels she cannot forgive you, she felt that she could not blame the innocent life that was to end in the creek that day. It was she who saved Kizzy from being drowned, convincing Master Rich that he would profit off of the birth of the child by selling it when it came of age. She raises it for you.”

Smithy could feel the heat of the hot poker rolling out the impractical curls on her head. That was the only warmth she could feel as her veins ran with cold guilt. “That baby’s mine though,” she said in a raspy voice. “Everypony’s surely expectin’ to see me carryin’ ‘round a baby by now.”

Letting another perfect curl go from the hot poker, Tess explained how her master had fooled everypony into thinking his wife had a stillborn. “Your mother and father left soon after, feeling you needed time to heal before they returned,” she explained. “Your mother blames herself for this lie of course, but Master Rich knew how it could be a possibility. That is why they have not been around for a time.”

Smithy let out a fresh stream of tears as she thought of the row of memorial sticks back in Dodge City, each one marking where a stillborn baby lay to rest. “Mama,” she cried, realizing now more than ever how much she needed her mother.

Tess began to dry the flowing tears from Smithy’s cheeks before resuming her work. “She must not know, misses,” she explained. “The truth is not safe for us. If you value the life of your mother and child then you must stay silent.”

Smithy shook her head fiercely at the notion, accidentally burning her neck on the hot poker curling her mane. “T’ain’t right!” she protested. “Lyin’s wrong, ya hear!”

Holding Smithy down by the shoulders, Tess stared pleadingly at the broken reflection of the frantic pony. “Please, Smithy… misses… listen to me, please, misses,” she said, trying as best she could to calm herself and her mistress. “It was a lie that saved you, and a lie that keeps your child alive. You must understand, it was Toby who lied about why your child was born. He told Master Rich that he took you against your will, and that we slaves took you to the woods to kill the child and hide his mistakes. This is why you and your child still live and while he hangs.”

Smithy gasped at the lie she had just heard, but she quickly understood why it was said as reality set in. She now knew of how much Bladire had sacrificed for her. He had really gone to his death to protect her and his child, just as he had vowed to her in the cellar. His death was her fault, and the pain and guilt that coated her heart was her penance for her choices she had made.

Her train of thought was cut short as Tess brought her the dress from the floor. “It is time, misses,” she said as she unbuttoned the back of the dress for Smithy to step into. “Master Rich will be home soon. We must not disappoint him, misses.”

Defeated, Smithy stepped into the dress. She stared at her reflection in the broken mirror, no longer recognizing the pony staring back at her. After all she had been through, after all the heart ache, all the lies and corruption, all the abuse she endured, it was the fidelity of her lover going to his death that finally broke her. “Yer right,” she said flatly. “We better not disappoint him.”

Just as the last button was put into place, a knock was heard at the door. Tess stepped away to answer it, bowing low as her master entered the room holding flowers.

Stinking Rich rushed past the slave to his wife, concerned at the sight of the destruction in the room. “What happened?” he said, throwing down the flowers. “Did anypony hurt ya while I was gone? None of them zigglers hurt ya, did they?”

Smithy waved off the concerns dismissively. “I’m fine,” she lied. “Just a lil' temper tantrum. I’m over it.”

Stinking Rich breathed a sigh of relief as he wrapped his arms around his wife, covering her face in kisses. Smithy stood ram rod still as he showered her with affection. This was her duty, just as the slaves had theirs. As she let her husband kiss her, she couldn't help wishing that Tess hadn’t left the room and shut the door behind her.

She watched her husband’s look go from concerned to suggestive. “I wanna boy this time,” he said as he kissed her full on the mouth.

Comments

[Ice Star]

She watched her husband’s look go from concerned to suggestive. “I wanna boy this time,” he said as he kissed her full on the mouth.

Yeah, he clearly doesn't respect her at all, even after believing she's gone through trauma. Stinking still stinks.