Kindly but also worldly wise, she has seen humanity at its devilish worst and at its most angel-like best.
Employment
Cook at the Stardust Saloon since 1870.
Expertise
Cooking, domestic chores.
Aliases / Nicknames
Cookie, Mammy Cookie
Residense(s)
Bottom floor room at the Stardust, right under Caroline Mundee's
Kith & Kin
Gone with the wind.
Life Events
Born into slavery 29th December 1824, McMahon Plantation near Charles City, Virginia
1824-1842 grew up alongside the similarly aged daughter of the master, Miss Mary Anne McMahon
1843 Mary Anne marries and moves far away, does not take Messalina with her.
1844 Messalina raped by a visiting friend of the young master
1846 Jumps the broomstick with fellow slave James Madison McMahon
1848 Young Master's new wife has Messalina whipped for some minor half-imagined infraction
1850 Old Mars' McMahon dies, young master takes over: plans to sell Messalina and her husband upriver to separate plantations
1850 Messalina manages to escape, alone, up the James River. On the way is helped by various members of the Undergound Railway, including a nameless young white man at Monroe, Virginia.
1851 Makes it to New York, where she manages to scrape a living in service
1863 New York Draft Riots, she is badly beaten up by Irish and German immigrant rioters, protesting against the threat of conscription, which quickly turns into a race riot. She will carry the scars of this for the rest of her life, alongside the scars from her whipping on her back.
1869 The family she works for head West, eventually opening a Saloon in Kalispell Montana in 1870
"I don't agree. Not sayin' you don't make some good points but....well.........I just believe that real love don't work that way. But hell, it don't really matter I reckon. Arabella does what she wants to do, pays no real heed ta me 'cept when it works for her. Like I said, I've tried my best. I can't do any more to show her, teach her, ...mentor her," she smirked that last term.
Messalina gave Caroline a sympathetic look: in her philosophy, which was heavily tainted by the central tenets of a strangely rarely practiced religion called Christianity, the exact opposite was true: the only real love was that which was given despite, not because, of the treatment meted out to the giver by the object of that love. If Jesus could love those who condemned him, taunted and tortured him, yea, finally murdered him in his earthly form, then could not she forgive and love those who had trespassed against her.
If Messalina loved and prayed for Arabella Mudd, she also loved and prayed for Miss Caroline Mundee and Mr Ralph Flandry and found it easy to do so. Mr Frank Fortner, well, she was still working on that one: it was hard to love and pray for a body who hadn't really shown who he was yet!
Then she sighed, "I'd rather not talk about it if that's alright with you, hon."
The old cook nodded, and gave a lopsided smile "I get it, Miss Caroline. Now you get along and get yourself all ready. But just remember, you ever want to talk about just anything: I ain't goin' anywhere and I got ears made just right for listenin'." she offered.
Caroline flashed a quick smile, a sort of sad one though, her eyes showed her heart really wasn't in the gesture. Then turned and headed for the stairway.
Caroline gone, Messalina shook her head and carried on making her sauce, only hoping that Caroline hadn't gone up to her room to hit another kind of sauce.
"Brendan? He's a good friend is all. I don't wanna git married, he don't get married. So we're in complete agreement there," Caroline smiled.
Messalina nodded her approval. She knew that Caroline and Brendan were close: sleeping in the room right underneath Caroline's (or, at least, trying to sleep!) she couldn't help BUT know! But she saw in the young cowboy a wild roan, not the sort of young colt who could be tethered to the cart of marital servitude. Her husband James had been the same: wild and young and free, despite his status as a slave.
"And well..........sometimes I don't think Ara really does care about me, certainly not like I care about her."
"Oh, she cares about you, Miss Caroline, she cares about you probably more than anyone else in this here blamed freezing cold town! Even more'n me or Mr Flandry or that scrap o' nuthin' Jew girl she hangs around with, down at the drapers. For now." this last phrase seemed to carry some import.
"You know, Miss Caroline, I grew up on a plantation with another little girl my age, the Master's daughter, Miss Many Anne McMahon: and boy, did we love each other to bits. There wasn't nuthin' I wouldn't do for her and there wasn't nuthin' she wouldn't do for me. That old rascal of a Master'd raise his stick to me and she'd just jump right in front of me an dare him to give me a whuppin'." she smiled happily at the remembrance, but then her grin collapsed.
"When we was eighteen, Miss Mary Anne got married and moved far, far away: left me there alone, never heard from that gal again. That's when my bad times begun. But I always thought, 'she still thinks of me like I think of her, one day she'll come back for me, one day I will be saved'" the older woman shook her head "Took me a long time to realise the truth, and that was the day I started to look out for myself. And here I am."
Somehow feeling she'd gotten off topic, she brought things back to the source of Caroline's irritation.
"See, Arabella's just like that Miss Mary Anne: maybe that's why I loves that little pest so much, but when she's gone, and gone she soon will be, mark my words, I don't expect her to think too much about her poor old Mammy Cookie, or even about Miss Caroline Mundee: even if she does love you more'n anyone else in the world right now." she warned. Caroline clearly didn't even think the last part was true.
"Heard her tell folk that her mentor is that old fart who owns the dress shop. Talk about a slap in the face. Shows ya how much of an influence I am," Caroline sighed.
Although Messalina couldn't help but chuckle at the singer's description of the master tailor, she was serious in her reply.
"Oh, why she's just using ol' man Pettigrew, and that Mr Jeems Vaughn. she wants to learn all she can from them: nice speaking and manners and the like, but she'll just burn them up like a paper of matches and leave a little pile of ash behind. That's it, she just uses people up: me for food and a mother to hug, that little Jew girl for, well, you know them things she gets up to, Mr Flandry for a Daddy, and you: you're the most important to her, because you give her excitement, and that child just lives for excitement and fuss and crying and falling out and making up again."
It sounded like Messalina didn't even like the girl, but she had something to add. "That might not make no logical sense to that hard Yankee head o' yours, Miss Caroline: but my soft old Southern heart feels it and knows it: we don't love that girl cause she always does or says the right thing, or cause she 'means well despite her bad behaviour' or because she'll write to us every day when she goes away. We just love her 'cause we love her."
Mrs McMahon seemed to have finished describing her personal philosophy on the matter.
"Hope yer right, but knowing Ara it won't be long before she does something to tick him off," Caroline half predicted, then sighed, "I get so mad at her, but I don't wanna lose her. I know, I'm an idiot."
"I ain't arguin' Miss Caroline!" replied Messalina with serious face but a twinkle in her eyes as she recommenced her work.
"And how are you doing?" asked Messalina suddenly.
"I'm good, why do ya ask?" Caroline wasn't sure what brought that on?
"Just askin'" replied the older woman. "See, when something's bothering Arabella there, the whole town knows about it, when something's bothering a girl like Miss Caroline Mundee, well I reckon nobody knows about it but herself." She was busy preparing some vegetables for the stew now, but her whole attention was somehow obliquely on the ostensibly not-a-care-in-the-world saloon singer.
"What about that Mr Connolly feller. Is that gettin' serious? Or don't gettin' serious fit in with your plans?" she asked "Oh! Tell me to mind my own business if you please. But some of us worry about you, whether you like it or not."
"I never claimed to be no saint but I'm tryin' my best to teach her the business. I don't think I been unfair to her, right from the start...I never picked any fights with her. And what about her wages? I was the one who stuck up for her and told Matilda that unless she paid Ara proper for her piano playing, I'd up and quit," Caroline felt compelled to defend herself here.
Messalina just laughed and shook her head "You think that child's interested in money? She never spends a dime, least not on herself. She don't like you for all the nice things you done for her, she loves you for all the fights and spats and making up afterward. It's just high drama that child craves."
"And now she goes and bad mouths the saloon and goin' on about the evil of drink and all that nonsense. I mean we got a new boss now. What if Fortner decides he isn't gonna put up with her acting up with the customers? And kicks her out? I pulled her out of there for her sake," Caroline sighed.
"Well, you just let her stew in her own juice next time." advised the cook "And don't worry about Mister Fortner: I seen the way he looks at that girl and I don't know who she reminds him of, but I reckon it must be someone very special the way he 'forgives her her trespasses'".
"Well, that's all right for now, but that girl's growin' up. Pretty soon now she's gonna be just like springtime: bustin' out all over! She ain't interested in men, I know that, and you certainly know that: but they're gonna get interested in her; when that time comes, that's when she's gonna need a eye keepin on her and her chesnuts pullin' out the fire: by you and me both."
Messalina looked about to go back to her pots and pans, but then she stopped and frowned a little at the confident, ballsy blonde.
"And how are you doing?" she asked, with only the slightest tinge of concern in her voice.