The Committee by Terry E. Hill Page B

“Did you work on my suit, nigger?”
    â€œYes, sir. Is they some sort a problem needs fixin’?”
    â€œThe problem is, you filthy animal, a button is missing. A button I especially ordered from London, and you stole it!”
    â€œNo, sir. I would nev’a steal from you, sir. On my grave, sir, never,” Rufus replied.
    â€œDon’t talk back to me, boy,” Barrière snapped.
    The venomous words were followed by Barrière spitting in Rufus’s face. “I’ll see you whipped for this, boy,” Barrière shouted and stormed out of the shop.
    Rufus was indeed viciously whipped by the furious shopkeeper and, upon being sent back to the plantation in Minton, whipped again by his master whose outstanding debt to the tailor was not fully paid.
    But before he was sent away from New Orleans, he gave Juliette the bill containing Thaddeus Barrière’s signature. The same bill for the alterations to the suit with the missing button.
    â€œI don’t know what’ya plan on doin’ wit’ it,” Rufus said quietly passing the bill to Juliette across the counter in the shop, “but I hope it’s somethin’ awful bad, Ms. Juliette. Awful bad.”
    The third item on the table was a miniature portrait of Thaddeus Barrière. Juliette received the little painting from the artist, Chauncey Lafayette. Chauncey was a classically trained French painter who made his living traveling from town to town with his wife Simone, painting portraits of wealthy residents. Simone was as black as the night and as beautiful as a sunset over Lake Charles.
    Barrière commissioned Chauncey to paint his portrait. Simone accompanied him to the plantation as his assistant. The couple was greeted at the door by Barrière, who, upon laying eyes on Simone said, “That black bitch is not setting foot in my house.”
    â€œBut, monsieur,” Chauncey said through a thick French accent, “this is Simone, my assistant. You will not know she is even here.”
    â€œGet off my porch,” Barrière yelled at a frightened Simone. “You come in,” he snapped to Chauncey, “but send your nigger out back with the other darkies.”
    Lafayette spent the next four hours in the home painting a preening and disagreeable Barrière. “You ain’t from round these parts, being a foreigner and all. You don’t bring strange niggers into decent folk’s houses in Louisiana.”
    When Lafayette completed the painting, he showed it to Barrière hoping to be paid quickly and leave the horrible man in his past. But upon seeing the portrait Barrière shouted, “It doesn’t look like me at all. You trying to humiliate me, boy? You’ve made me look like a fat cow.”
    â€œBut, sir,” Lafayette protested, “it is unmistakably you. I took no liberties.”
    â€œPack up your things and your nigger and get off my property,” Barrière yelled. “I’ll see to it you never work in New Orleans again.”
    The next day Chauncey and Simone arrived at Juliette’s home, as scheduled by Jean-Luc Fantoché, to paint her portrait. She greeted them each with a kiss on the cheek. “Accueillir, Mr. et Mme. Lafayette,” she said ushering them into her home.
    The afternoon was filled with laughter. Juliette posed gracefully for the life-sized portrait while Simone and Chauncey delighted in her generous hospitality. As Chauncey put the final strokes on the painting of the beautiful woman, Juliette noticed the miniature of Thaddeus Barrière peeking from their art supply portmanteau.
    â€œWho is that? He is not a very pleasant-looking man,” Juliette asked, already knowing the answer.
    â€œThat is Thaddeus Barrière,” Chauncey answered. “The unpleasantness of the painting does not nearly capture the ugliness of his soul. He is by far the vilest man I have ever met.”
    Chauncey recounted the