PENNY & MINTY
"YOU TALK TO US AS IF WE HAVE A CHOICE." - MINTY
PENNY & MINTY
“Hello, Mother.” Penny looked around the loud, crowded, and bustling Paca kitchen. A crackling fire from the hearth punctuated the rhythmic clanking and clunking of utensils on pottery, while an aromatic symphony wafted through the air.
“Where’s Miss Chase?”
“She’s tending to the musicians.” Margaret Rollings looked up from the dough she was kneading and arched a brow. “I’m glad you got here. Grab an apron and help me with these biscuits.”
Penny sighed as she reached for an apron. “Apologies, Mother. We had some interesting customers.”
Mrs. Rollings refocused on her work but sharpened her tone. “Who? President Madison? Dolley Madison, perhaps?”
“Mister Carroll, for one.”
“Mister Carroll comes in at least three times a week.” Margaret kneaded the dough a little more forcibly, creating a puff of flour.
Penny pulled another ball of dough, plopped it down beside her mother’s, and began working with it. “How often is Mister Carroll with Minerva Rodgers, and Susan Decatur at the same table?”
“Not as often as he is by governors, senators, congressmen, and assorted Supreme Court justices.” Margaret stopped everything she was doing, put her hands on her hips and waited.
Penny’s cheeks flared pink as she continued working with the dough. “Mother?”
“The Commodore would not let those ladies come into town without an escort.” Margaret cocked her head and smiled wryly. “You may as well tell me about him.”
Penny drew her lips tight and focused her eyes on the dough while she re-tied her apron. “Hmmm. He’s very handsome and very brave.”
“How do you know he is brave? Did he tell you that?”
“No, Mother.” Penny’s shoulders tightened. “Pray, have a bit more faith in my discernment.”
Margaret Rollings watched her daughter for a moment, then relaxed her body and her tone. “Of course I do, Penny. You just took me by surprise. The subject of young gentlemen has never graced our conversations until now.”
Penny blushed again and sighed. She stopped kneading and looked her mother in the eye. “Forgive me, Mother. I did not think of that. But you are right, it hasn’t.”
“So, tell me why you think he is brave.” Margaret patted her daughter’s arm. “But do so while we work. There is a lot more biscuit dough to prepare.” Satisfied after a quick inspection, she replaced the kneaded dough with fresh.
Penny grabbed a handful of flour, tossed it onto the dough, and started kneading. A tinge of authority entered her voice. “Mister Carroll introduced him as a freshly minted midshipman injured in a battle.”
“Oh, I see.” Margaret’s voice settled into a conversational tone. “What else?”
“His name is Jack Pyle. He is very polite, and Mister Carroll seemed to be impressed by him.” So was I.
“Hmmmm.” Margaret feigned concentration on the dough for a few moments before she looked toward her daughter and observed her eyes. “Anything more?”
“He’s not at all like the other naval officers that come into the tavern.” She looked over at her mother. “They fancy themselves as prizes for any woman that even looks at them.”
Margaret smiled. “Jack is humble, then? Good. What else?”
“Mother. I was working, and the tavern was busy!” Now, it was Penny’s turn to feign concentration. “Marci tried to put her hooks into him right in front of me. Jack didn’t pay any attention to her.” Penny looked right into her mother’s eyes. “That is when I knew.”
“So, that’s it.” Mrs. Rollings laughed.
“Well, I gave him an elbow to the ribs, too.” Penny blushed as she giggled.
Her mother grinned. “Which is what we all need to do from time to time.”
Upon completion of their work at the biscuit dough station, Anne Chase reassigned the Rollings women to lead the biggest job in any Maryland kitchen, preparing the crab cakes. Penny supervised the cleaning, steaming, and picking of the crabs themselves, while her mother supervised the making of the crab cakes. Over a dozen women made up each team. All but Penny and Margaret were dark-skinned.
Penny drew in a deep breath, then met her team by the small mountain of bushel baskets. “Hello. I’m Penny.” She glanced around her at the dark teenage faces, all with blank expressions. “It’s great that you have the cauldrons already set in the hearths and on the fire. Thank you. We need to clean the crabs off and dust them with the spice before we put them in the steaming cauldrons.”
The silence was deafening. Penny shifted uncomfortably and glanced around again at the dark faces. “I’ll be working with you today. I’m new to this, hope we can work well together, and I understand that this isn’t easy, and I really appreciate your hard work.”
Again, total silence with blank expressions on every face. Penny rubbed her hands in front of her waist. “So, the immediate task is preparing crab meat for the crab cakes. I’m here to help, and we can support each other.”
This time, a few of them shuffled their feet, but all remained silent.
Penny forced a small smile. “I want to listen, too. If there are concerns or issues, we can talk about them. I want this to be fair and respectful.”
She noticed that now a few people brought up their hands to hide grins. But Penny remained undeterred. “I’ll be right there with you. Thanks for your hard work, and let’s make today productive.”
Giggles erupted from all the previously stoic workers.
A sharp but quiet voice cut through the din. “Enough!”
The young slaves fell silent.
“Ma’am, you’ve never worked with slaves before, have you?”
The question came from an attractive young woman with deep brown skin as she stepped towards Penny. Her expressive eyes projected depth of experience and determination. High cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and the total of her facial features blended strength, grace, and beauty.
“Pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Penny sighed.
“Yes, ma’am.” A mint-colored dove served as a clasp for the bandana around the young woman’s hair, which was the only item that distinguished her from the other kitchen help. She turned to the rest with the same quiet sharpness. “You know what to do. You’ve done it before. Get to it.”
The compliance was instantaneous. Half started cleaning and spicing the crabs; the other half readied the cauldrons.
“I let my nerves get the best of me sometimes.” Penny extended her hand. “I’m Penny.”
The young slave studied Penny’s eyes before she extended her own hand. “I am Minty.” She clasped Penny’s hand and stared into her eyes. She seems trustworthy. I’ll risk it. “It wasn’t your nerves that made it obvious.”
“Oh?” Penny squeezed Minty’s hand before she released it. “What was it then?”
“You talked to us as if we had a choice.”
That word, spoken with the quiet sharpness of a scalpel, hit Penny with the force of a sledgehammer. She stiffened as if lightning had struck her soul. Her knees buckled under the weight of shame and guilt. She steadied herself by leaning against a table and pulled a hand up to her heart. “Please forgive me, Minty. Truly, I didn’t mean to cause harm.”
Minty nodded and guided Penny to a spot where they could sit, talk, and still observe the work. “Miss Penny, what I just told you ain’t easy to digest. But it’s the truth. It’s more than chains and shackles or workin’ in the fields. Taking away our God-given right to choose cuts deeper than any of that.”
“Please, Minty. It’s just Penny.” She managed a thin smile. Dear Lord, help me. “My family owns a tavern. We’ve never owned slaves.” Penny sighed. “We see it every day, but hardly ever talk about it.” She hung her head. “I hate it. My parents do as well. But we never talk about it.” I’ve done nothing about it either.
“You’re the first white person I’ve talked to this long.” Minty looked to make sure everyone was working. The complex aroma of the crab, steaming spices unique to Maryland, told her all was good. “That is a nice surprise for me.”
“For me as well.” Penny felt the nervousness leave her. “Maybe we can learn from each other?”
“That would be nice, Miss Penny.” Minty caught the flash of disappointment in Penny’s eyes. “I mean, Penny. But I will have to call you ‘Miss Penny’ when other white people are around.”
Penny smiled and nodded grimly. “Understood. Fair enough.” She looked over at Minty. “Who is your owner?” She grimaced as soon as she said it, and the same searing jolt shot through her body. “Heavens, Minty! I’m so stupid.”
The slave girl smiled with more warmth than last time. “No. Slavery is stupid. It is so stupid that lots of folks like you don’t know how to talk about it. And if you don’t talk about it, you definitely won’t do anything about it.”
Minty patted the white girl’s hand. “You are a breath of fresh air. For one thing, you are talking with me, not at me. For another, you don’t think it’s beneath you to learn how I feel.” She brought her hand back to her lap and sat up straight. “My master is Mister Charles Carroll. I work in his mansion here in Annapolis.”
Penny’s eyes brightened a bit. “Mister Carroll comes into our tavern about three times a week. He seems very nice, at least to us.”
Minty cocked her head and thought for a second before she answered. “A slave owner who is a nice man and a good master is still a slave owner.”
“I believe you are teaching me to think a different way.” Penny drew a slow, deep breath and let it out again just as slowly. “But I cannot imagine living without hope.”
“Neither can I, Penny.” Minty leaned back and grinned. “Have I surprised you again?”
“Yes, Minty. I believe you did.” She shook her head slowly, blushed as she returned Minty’s gaze and laughed. “I also think you are enjoying it.”
“I am.” They both laughed as Minty got up to redirect the staff.
Enough steamed crabs had accumulated so that the cracking and picking could commence. Half of the cleaning staff relocated to the cracking station, picked up small mallets and went to work shattering the claws and removing the meat. Half of the cauldron staff relocated to the picking station, picked up their specialized tools, and went to work opening the bodies of the crabs and carefully picking out the meat.
Satisfied with the progress, Minty returned to her seat next to Penny. Though her features were relaxed, her tone deepened. “Hope is the one thing I can never give up on. If I do, that means I would give up both my humanity and my spirit. Both are gifts from God that I refuse to surrender.”
“Good for you, Minty!” But even as Penny smiled, her eyes welled up with tears. “Finally. Something we have in common.” Fighting back the tears, she turned to look into Minty’s eyes. “Hope is my sanctuary, solace, and my fire.”
Minty smiled. “That’s a nicer way to put it.” She shifted in her seat to face Penny. “I find all three in the Bible. My sanctuary is within the Exodus story. The Israelites were slaves, just like us. But they stayed faithful to Him to lead them out one day, and they were determined to survive until that glorious day came when they would be led to the Promised Land.”
“Literature makes me happy.” Penny smiled and relaxed against the wall. “Stories are magical realms of knowledge and ideas. When I read, I can dream of overcoming the restrictions men put on women. And I can dream of doing that for other women too, not just for myself.”
Minty grinned. “The story of David and Goliath comforts me, knowing that the small can overcome the great. It helps me to survive even the worst days.”
“I can see that strength in you. Now, I know where that comes from.” Penny put a finger over her lips for a moment, then nodded with a smile. “Solace is something I find in learning. I mean, more than what’s in the books. Working in the tavern helps me to learn about people, many kinds of people. What they do and how they do things teach me to be objective. I mean to learn things I may not agree with, but learn them anyway to better understand.”
“Which is what we’re doing right now.” Minty leaned against the wall too. But her voice became sharper as she spoke. “The fire comes from the Parable of the Good Samaritan. It teaches compassion for others without regard for their status in other people’s eyes and the commitment needed to oppose any injustice that stands in the way.”
“That puts fire in you alright.” Penny grinned from ear to ear. Then her voice carried an edge as well. “I dream of breaking down barriers, challenging what people tell me is ‘normal’, and paving the way for a future where women can actively take part in any intellectual pursuit, and contribute to our society in any way we see fit to do so.”
Minty shook her head slowly. “Maybe we could make something special by working together.”
“What a marvelous idea!” Penny nearly slid off the barrel she was sitting on.
“We’d have to be careful.”
“I know, Minty.”
“Are you ready to talk about an even more dangerous topic?” Minty’s eyes were full of mirth. “Hmmm?”
“Oh no. Not that one.” Penny giggled and shook her head.
In unison, “BOYS!” Both young women burst into laughter.
