Chapter Nine

Nantucket Island

The Mahogany farm did not get many visitors, so two in one evening seemed like something of a record. They’d expected the first, Reverend Malcolm Davis, the Baptist minister for their colored community on the island. The reverend, whose weathered dark skin reflected a youth spent aboard whaling vessels, would come by once or twice a month to harangue them good-naturedly about the need to get to church more often. Clarence Mahogany often wondered out loud if the reverend simply wanted a free meal.

His daughter, Maude, didn’t hear these remarks—nor anything her father said since the age of two when the same fever that took her mother’s life left her deaf. On the other hand, Maude could read lips. When she caught her father swearing or being rude, she would slap his shoulder with a dish towel, a book, or if nothing else was handy, her open hand. Her conditioning meant her father turned his back whenever he felt like swearing.

While unable to hear, Maude still learned her letters and read her Bible each day. However, her almost unintelligible speech could only be understood by her father, and not very well at that. As a result, Maude usually remained quiet. She also learned to cook well, the reason why her father suspected the reverend became a regular guest.

Reverend Davis put the last forkful of candied ham into his mouth and made a wide smile. He wiped his lips and set the blue cloth napkin down next to the empty plate. He turned to Maude who entered from the kitchen with an apple pie. “I know gluttony is a sin,” said the reverend, “so I saved me some room for a piece of one of your excellent pies.”

Maude smiled and set the pie before him. She cut the pie into quarters and started to dish one out, but the minister’s hand stopped her.

The minister looked up at her. “So much would be a sin,” he said. “An eighth would do me fine.”

Maude cut the quarter in half. The minister retrieved his napkin and Maude set the pie piece on his plate.

A knock Maude could not hear came at the door.

The reverend looked toward the entry and then at Clarence. “A little late for visitors.”

Clarence leveled his eyes at the minister and directed his comment to him as well. “I should say so.” He got up and walked across the pinewood floor to the door. He opened it and at first, saw only darkness. “Hello?”

Out of the night came a timid woman’s voice. “Mr. Mahogany?”

On the road, some distance away, a buggy drove by. A lantern hung off its side. The faint illumination outlined the form of a woman in the doorway wearing a large hat. There did not appear to be a buggy in the drive.

“Yes? What can I do for you?”

“Sorry to be calling on you at such a late hour. I wonder if I might impose upon you for a few moments.”

“Surely. Come on in and join the reverend.”

“No, no, I don’t want to impose on you any more than I have already. I understand your daughter is a good cook. I am looking for one to put my kitchen to rights and prepare some meals for the next little while. I live in the old Hutchinson house out on Baxter Road. Do you know it?”

“I do. I’ve lived here twenty years, Miss—?”

“Lenore. Lenore Hutchinson.”

“Twenty years and I can’t say I’ve ever met you.”

“I’m afraid I’ve become a bit of a recluse.”

“I heard there used to be some disreputable parties out there.”

“Oh, long ago, before I changed my ways and found our Lord, Jesus Christ. As I said, I am putting my place back in order and I could use your daughter’s services. I would pay handsomely.”

“There are rumors your place is haunted.”

“Rumors, only. I am a gospel woman, Mr. Mahogany.”

Clarence scratched the top of his balding head. “Well, I can’t see sparing her in the evenings, when she is needed right here tending house for me, and rumors or not, I don’t want her out and about in the dark. But we could sure use the cash.” Clarence ran a hand over his face and looked back at the minister. “What do you think, Reverend?”

The minister put down his fork and dabbed his lips clean. He looked at Clarence standing before the darkened doorway. “Sounds like she was lost but now found in the glory of Jesus. Can’t ask for a better reference.” He grinned.

Clarence scratched his head again and turned back to the doorway. “If she came mid-morning and left mid-afternoon, would that work for you?”

“It would be adequate.”

“You know she’s deaf and dumb?”

“I do. But I also understand she can read as well as write and she has won several ribbons for her cooking at the Independence Day festivities in town.”

Clarence ushered his daughter to the doorway and turned so she could read his lips. He recounted the offer and put it to her if she wanted the job. Maude nodded with vigor.

“Could she start tomorrow?” asked Lenore. “Guests will arrive soon, and I need to get things in order as soon as possible.”

“Tell you what, Clarence,” said the reverend, “I’ll stop by whenever my circuit takes me that way. Tomorrow, in fact.”

Clarence puffed out his cheeks as he let out a slow stream of air. At last, he said, “Well, all right. Tomorrow, then.” He stuck out his hand and a woman’s gloved hand emerged from the darkness to lightly shake his.

“Thank you,” said Lenore, “and have a good evening.”

“You as well,” said Clarence, easing the door shut.

He walked with measured steps back to the table, then took another deep breath and sat down to a piece of his daughter’s pie. “She’s an odd duck.”

“The Lord’s tent is mighty big,” said the reverend. “She seems shy, that’s all. And as you said, you could use the money.” The reverend looked down at his clean plate then up at Maude who just sat down. He grinned once more. “I do declare, there’s still a little room left for more pie.”