Chapter 9

My day goes down hill from there.

The city, naturally, reminds Barbara of Vietnam and Korea. Which in turn brings up Iraq. Then human rights and US human rights, race relations and all things political. I'm not opinionated; I just have my own opinion. I don't understand the problem with that. Finally, on our way back to the ship, Barb refers to "white people" once too often.

"Alright, look. Is this uh problem for you?"

"Is what a problem for me?"

"Me bein' uh white guy."

"Pete, why would last night have happened if you being white was a problem?"

"Peter." I correct her, "An' I don't know but race ain't an issue for me. I mostly date black girls 'cause, I donno, I just always have.

"Well, my ex is Chinese so I don't have a problem with race."

"Not with Asian. How many white guys you sleep with?"

She stops and looked at me. "One." She walks up the gang plank, "Too much fear that your relations owned mine." She smiles but it's a mean sort of look. "Come on Massa; yo lil Kizzy make you feel real good."

I grab her arm and yank her back. "That is not a game I play, Barb. Ever." I don't know why that got me so angry so fast but I try to reign it in. "You ain't got ta worry 'bout that ownership thing with me; we ain't own no slaves. Not e'vy white guy wanna play plantation. An', Hell, even Alex ain't ma slave."

"I think you need to let go of my arm." I let her go. "I don't have a problem with you being white. If anything, I have a problem with you being 18. You are too young to think. You said your family has owned land in southern VA for close to two hundred years but no one in your family ever owned even one slave."

"We own a fishery; not much call fo' cotton pickin'."

"Oh, and there's no labor involved in fishing."

"The family always..."

"And naturally, the family did all the cooking, cleaning, child-rearing, wood-chopping and what have you because slaves never did that kind of work.

" ... well I know they did but..."

"But what? But your family is somehow above what every other rich family in the country was doing at the time?" I stay silent; actually, I had never considered that. "What, we you all abolitionists? Were you a stop on the underground railroad?"

If we were, no one has ever mentioned it to me. I stop walking and pull my cell out. A ship-to-shore international call was going to cost a small fortune, but if anyone could answer this, Gran-Gran can. She doesn't know, but she promises to get a message back to me as soon as possible.

"Just have to try and prove you're right?" Barb sneers.

"I want to know the truth. Spent mah whole life believin' we ain't guilty uh that; if we is, I wanna know."

"Peter," She sighs heavily, "it doesn't matter. I got a little irritated by your attitude. That's all."

"Ain't about you." I look at her again but all I could see was how angry I am at the moment. "I - I gotta go check on them." I say.

"Yeah, you do that." She walks away and right now, I have no desire to stop her.

I go back to my own cabin. Alex and Beth were watching a movie and must have caught my mood when I came in; they don't ask any questions, just let me sulk. When the movie ends, Beth stands up.

"I think I wanna get some fresh air. I'm goin' up on deck."

"I couldn't find uh gag today, Sir." Alex says softly "But if you need me ta stay quiet, I can."

"Do I treat you like mah slave?"

"No." he sounds confused.

"Have I ever look like I want'd uh slave?"

"Not really. That kinda why I usually call you "Dom' not 'Master'; it ain't fit."

I didn't think so. That's not me. I don't own people; I don't use them. It's not just family history - it's my history. Barb doesn't understand that.

I suddenly remember that Alex actually wanted to be 'used' tonight - which was probably why Beth cleared out. "Hey, how'd you do with those clips today?"

"Sore as fuck by lunch. Beth got 'em. I'm still kinda sore but it's uh good kinda thing."

I nod. I'm glad he enjoyed his day. I hear the horn and realize that if we're pulling out of dock, I likely won't hear from Gran-gran today. I don't swear - that won't help anything. I look at Alex. He actually takes a step back from me.

"What?" I snap at him.

"You just look pissed."

"I am." He's silent for what seems like a long time. Then he comes over and kneels in front of me.

"Sir, that's like my job, right?"

"What is?"

"You need an outlet, you use me."

I glare at him. I have abused our relationship in the past but that's the exception not the rule. "Alex. You are not a punching bag. What the fuck, you think I like hittin' you? Shit, I hope ta hell every time I do it, it's the last but it ain't. You like bein' hit. I do it 'cause you like it. It don't do jack an' shit for me. Ok? Got that?" I stomp out on to the balcony. Alex stays in the room.

When Beth comes back a couple hours later, that's where we still are. She talks to Alex for a while. Then she comes out and sits with me.

"So what you fight 'bout?" she asks.

"He the masochist. I'm just helpin' out."

"Ok, that is so not true but I ain't mean Alex; I meant Barb."

I shrug. "Politics. Race relations. Bullshit. She think just 'cause we live in Verginny, we supported slavery."

"Come again?"

I wave her off, "Long story."

"Whatever. We goin' up for dinner or you wanna just order some cheese ta go with yo' whine."

"You wanna go, go. Take him."

"You are such a baby."

I let it go; she's just trying to get under my skin. Eventually, she does give up and they go out again.

I wake up with a sore neck, still on the balcony, still pissed at Barb. The room was dark but I could see Alex and Beth's shadowed forms sprawled across the bed. I crawl into bed with them. I have no idea how they put up with my moods.

The next morning, we arrive at Taipei around 9am. My phone rings as we're wandering around 10. It had become something of a family research project, Gran-Gran tells me, but they figured it out. We owned ten. The Davidson family purchased ten human beings at one time or another until the war - where several of our exalted sons fought for the south. I go back to the ship, find a bar and have a drink.