Orson Scott Card - Alvin Maker 6 The Crystal City

Expeditions

IT TOOK SOME doing, but they found the nicest dresses in the whole company that would fit them, and decked out Dead Mary and her mother, Rien, so they could pass for slaveowners. Slightly shabby, perhaps, but it wasnt completely impossible that they would have a mammy slave like La Tia seemed to be and a sturdy young man like Arthur Stuart.

Its not like strangers would be rare in this country, either. Ten years ago the only white folks here was trappers or fugitives. But when most of the reds who didnt want to live white crossed over the Mizzippy, it opened up this land to settlement. Around here, if your house had been standing for five years, you were an old-timer. So nobodyd be too surprised to see two ladies of a family they didnt know-or so they hoped.

Alvin refused to go to the door of the plantation house with them. What good does it do for you to see how Id do it?

Im a white man, and not a word I say would be useful to you after. Ill be watching in case anything goes wrong, but youve got to do it yourselves.

La Tia and Arthur Stuart waited just off the porch as Dead Mary and Rien stepped up to clap hands and call someone to the door. Soon it was opened by an elderly black man.

Good evening, he said gravely.

Good evening, said Dead Mary. She was doing the talking because her French accent was not so pronounced as Riens. And because she could do a better job of faking high-class conversation. Sir, my mother and I would like to speak to the master of the house, if we may.

Master of the house away, said the old man. Mistress of the house poorly. But the young master, he here.

Could you fetch him for us, then?

Would you like to come and rest inside, where its shady? asked the old man.

No thank you, said Mary. She had no intention of getting out of sight of Arthur Stuart or La Tia.

Soon the old man returned, and brought with him a young man who could not have been much over fourteen years old. Behind him hovered a white man of middle age. Not the master of the house, and not a slave, so who was he?

Mary addressed the young man. My name is Marie Moore, she said. They had agreed an English last name would be better for her, suggesting that her father had simply married a Frenchwoman. My mother is shy about speaking English.

It was the middle-aged man who leapt to answer. Parleyvous francais, madame?

Mr. Tutor, said the boy, they come to see me.

Came, young master, said Mr. Tutor.

This is not my lesson right this very moment, if you please. So the boy was faking being high class just as much as Mary. He turned back to her with an irked look on his face, but quickly changed it to an expression of dignity. What do you wish? If you wish to have water or a bite to eat, the kitchens around back.

This was not a good sign, that he was treating them like beggars, when he should take them for slave-owning gentry like himself.

Fortunately, Mr. Tutor saw the gaffe at once. Young master, you cant ask ladies to go around back as if they were servants or beggars! To Mary and Rien he said, Please excuse his lapse. He has never met a visitor at the door before, and so

Theyre not ladies, said the boy. Look at their dresses. Ive seen better dresses on slaves.

Master Roy, you are being impolite, I fear.

Mr. Tutor, you forget your place, said Roy. He turned back to Mary. I dont know what you want, but we got nothing to contribute to any cause, and if I were you Id be careful, cause the story is that a whole passel of folks crossed over Pontchartrain last night. Rumors been spreading all over and they say theyre a lot of runaway slaves. Weve got ours locked down today just in case they get some bad ideas, but youll never keep those two under control if they get ideas.

Mary smiled and put on her archest high-class voice. Theres danger about, and yet you do not invite two ladies inside because our dresses are not new enough to suit you. Your mother will be pleased when all the neighbor ladies hear how we were turned away at your door because the young master of the house was so proud. She turned her back on him and started down the stairs. Come along, Mother, this is not a polite house.

Young master! said Mr. Tutor, in great distress.

You always think I do wrong, but I tell you I know theyre a bunch of liars, its my knack.

Mary turned around. You say that you have a knack for discerning a lie?

I always know, said Roy. And you and your mother got liar written all over you. Thats rude to say, I know it, but Father has me go with him when we buy horses or slaves or anything expensive, because I can always tell him when the man is lying when he says, This is as low as Ill go, or, This horse is right healthy.

You must be quite a help to your father, said Mary.

I am, said the boy proudly.

But not all lies are alike. My mother and I have fallen on hard times, but we still pretend to be ladies of substance because that allows us to uphold our dignity. But I would be surprised if we were the first ladies to come to this house planning to deceive you about our rank in the world.

The boy grinned sheepishly. Well, you got that aright. When her friends come to call, the lies come thicker and faster than hail in a storm.

Sometimes you should let a harmless lie stand, sir, without naming it so, for the sake of good manners.

I could not have said that better, said Mr. Tutor. The young master is still so young.

They can see that Im young, said Roy, irritated again. To Mary and Rien he said, Why dont you ladies come on inside, then, and well see about maybe something to drink, like lemonade?

Lemonade would be lovely, said Mary. But before we accept your kind invitation, we heard that your name is Roy, but not your family name.

Why, we took our name from what we grow. Roy Cottoner, and my father is Abner Cottoner, after some general in the Bible.

And in French, said Mary, your first name means king.

I know that, said Roy, sounding irritated again. He was quite an irritable boy.

They followed him into the house. Mary had no idea if they were doing things properly-should Mother go first, or should she?-but they figured Roy wouldnt know, and besides, they were already tagged as impostors, so it wouldnt hurt if they got a few things wrong.

Master Cottoner, said Mary.

Roy turned around.

Our servants are thirsty. Is there

He laughed. Oh, them. Old Bart, our houseboy, hell show them around back to the cistern.

Sure enough, the elderly black man was already closing the front door behind him as he headed out to where Arthur Stuart and La Tia were waiting. Mary wished she had more confidence in Arthur Stuarts knack. But Alvin seemed to have confidence in him, so how could Mary refuse to trust in his abilities?

Roy led them into a parlor and invited them to sit down. He turned to Mr. Tutor. Go tell Petunia we need lemonade.

Mr. Tutor looked mortally offended. I am not a servant in this house, sir.

Well what do you think, I should go tell them myself?

Mary suspected, from what she knew of manners, that that was indeed what he ought to do, but Mr. Tutor merely narrowed his eyes and went off to obey. Mary was just as happy to have him out of the room.

She watched as Roy took a pose in the archway. It looked studied and unnatural, and she suspected that he was imitating the way hed seen his father stand when company came. On a full-grown man, the stance would have seemed languid and comfortable.

Master Cottoner, said Mary. We have, as you guessed, come to ask for aid.