Lazarus Rising Chapter 4 (part 1)

Hey gentle reader, its been a while but her at last is the next chapter of my novel, enjoy.

Chapter 4 1798

The gardens behind the house were small and neatly laid out. The rows of flowers had been carefully designed by his mother to maximize the colours of spring and summer. The boy would run around in between the colourful displays and stop to gaze at the deep pond that seemed like it had been carved into the garden. His mother had warned him not to go too close because he had not yet learned how to swim. His father had not taken the time to do it. Young Robert, for this was his name, loved to watch the huge fish, that his father had placed into the pond at great expense, rise to the surface flashing gold, yellow and red, before diving again into the inky depths.

The gardener, a stout man with the strangely appropriate name of Green, had explained that his father had spared no expense in providing Robert's mother with a garden to spend her days enjoying. The pond was approximately 6 yards wide and was the shape of a broad bean. At the centre of the pond, like an island in an ocean, rose a statue of a bare breasted woman who was reaching to the sky with one hand as if seeking help from above. In the womans other arm was a baby looking up at her with wonder in her eyes. The boy always liked the look on the child's face because it made him smile to see such a young baby who loved his mother the way he loved his..

When tired from playing he would come and sit on the bench beside the pond; count the fish and stare at the statue. His father, whose visits were too infrequent for the boys liking, had encouraged him to embrace his independence and discover things for himself, When his father did come home, he would bring tales of the Americas and Africa that the young Robert would beg to hear over and over again until his father grew impatient and had Mrs Stokes take him away to the nursery. Mrs Stokes was strict and would not allow any behaviour that was unbecoming of a young gentleman. She was also kind and she took the time, not only to care for the boy but also to educate him in literature, mathematics and the natural sciences.

Robert's mother was a goddess however, she would hug, kiss and spoil the boy whenever she could and he loved her totally for it. She would read and sing to him whenever she could and when he played in the garden, she would sit on the terrace and watch him happily from her lofty position. Robert longed for her to join him down by the pond but she could not. On the night of his birth, she had undergone severe trauma and she could no longer walk. Although the doctors had hoped it would be temporary, she had not walked since that stormy night 9 years earlier and Robert's father had been so guilty that he had sone all he could to ensure that his wife and child had everything they needed.

Even though he was a way on business for months at a time he hired maids, nurses and other staff to care for his family. No expense was spared on ensuring the wellbeing and security of his son and heir. He felt guilty that he was away so much, but business was business and the slave trade was still booming. Politicians and reformers were still talking about abolishion but he knew that as long as so many people were making so much money, it would never happen. Times were good, money was plentiful and he was a success. He often shared his philosophy with his young son and taught him that the negroes were  just commodities that belonged to the superior white race.