The Plantation Project

3.

Caleb

I hadn't really expected a warm welcome from my parents. That's why I was very surprised indeed to see our long time driver Garry waiting outside the airport with a sign.

Garry's face broke out into a huge smile when he spotted me and he vigorously beckoned me over. His enthusiasm was infectious and I found myself laughing along with him.

"Little Master! By God have you grown into a fine young man," he exclaimed as he looked me over. "It has been years since I saw your angelic face. Bless the lord for bringing you back home."

I shook my head. "You know this isn't my home Garry. I am not here to stay. But tell me, why did they send you here? I could have easily taken a cab."

Garry looked at me with disbelief. "Take a cab?! Why should young master take a cab when old Garry is alive! The moment Madam told me that you were coming I told all the servants to prepare to welcome their young master."

I groaned internally. Garry was a sweetheart who refused to believe that I had really left home for good. He had been devastated all those years ago and now he thought that I was finally back.

The last thing I wanted was for people to think that I had come to stay. It would make things difficult again. I was here simply to check on my father since he apparently wanted to meet me. Nothing more.

As the car sped down the streets of Nashville, a strange sense of nostalgia set in. The city was different from what I remembered but somehow still the same. Familiar shops and corners passed by, places I had frequented as a teenager.

Our estate was about an hour's drive from the main city. The sun was shining bright, the trees tall and green, rustling in the wind as we passed. It was hard not to feel nostalgic in roads like this. I did not want to admit it but I had missed this beauty of the south. It was unique in its own way.

The houses or rather mansions lined the street with intervals of fields between them. I recognised most of the houses. I had been forced to attend balls and parties in almost all of them.

Garry was whistling a happy tune interrupted by his bouts of gossip. He felt that it was his duty to update me on whatever had happened since I was gone. It was the same old stories. Somebody had married somebody, somebody had cheated, somebody had suffered great losses or huge profits.

Out of all this mindless gossip, one bit of information struck me.

Ashley had returned from London and was currently staying with his family in Belmont House.

My heart had started beating uncharacteristically fast with the mention of his name. The nervous tingling in my stomach seemed to have doubled in intensity. I knew that there was no way I could avoid seeing him.

Ashley Belmont was our neighbour and the boy who made me realise that I was very gay. All it had taken was for me to see him riding his horse across his plantation and I was gone. Twelve year old me had instantly fallen head over heels for the boy sat on top of the mighty stallion.

It was hopeless though. Ashley was the perfect son to his parents that I could never be. Very handsome, intelligent, dutiful and sincere, he was their pride.

The last I saw of Ashley was when he was leaving for London to study medicine. He was fixated on getting his degree there. His family was very proud and they had thrown a huge farewell party for him, the last party I had attended in Nashville.

And now after so many years he was back and so was I. I refused to let my mind conjure up wild fantasies about him like I had done all those years ago.

Ashley Belmont was straight and that was that.

~

I was almost nauseas when the car pulled up to Johnson Plantations and Estate. The tingling in my stomach was getting worse with each passing second.

The car passed between the extensive fields that belonged to my parents. Men were working on the green fields and  cattle were grazing on the pastures beyond.

A small drop of pride bloomed in my chest. I did not share my father's love for land but I knew the sheer diligence it took to maintain something as vast as this. I admired him for it, it was something I could never do.

A few men waved at Garry and peeked in to get a look at me. They all welcomed me and I tried my best to look happy for their sake.

The house loomed ahead, daunting yet beautiful. It was a very old house. I think it really was built during the civil war. It was also unnecessarily big. Half of my father's earning probably went into maintaing it's grandeur.

As the car pulled up in front of the entrance, I noticed a woman standing nearby. My throat constricted as I immediately recognised the soft features of Mrs. Marjorie Johnson, my mother.