"I am not ready to be, married,” she stammered, “I am too young for that. They will force me to marry. I... I...” she cried harder, sighing rapid- ly, “those blood thirsty planters with eligible sons,” she whined. “They might even consider me a spinster,” she wailed.

“I am not ready to be, married,” she stammered, “I am too young for

that. They will force me to marry. I... I...” she cried harder, sighing rapid-

ly, “those blood thirsty planters with eligible sons,” she whined. “They

might even consider me a spinster,” she wailed, “heaven knows, many

stifling men, young and old... will seek out my hand.”

Now they knew what it was like to force blacks to breed. She

looked pitiful— broken I believe, jus like the sight of a white duppy.

Oh dear, but then what will that mean for us too? A new slave masta

had the potential for better. Dunce, daffy, duck. Better will only come

when we are no longer properties but equal humankind. I sighed, final-

ly registering the length of the problem. Elizi was not the only one who

was in a sudden calamity should anything happen to Mass Chadley.

I immediately felt unwell. Trying to distract my feelings I pressed

on, “Was that the reason Missa Ollie was inna hurry in di mauning?” I

didn’t care to impress her with linguistics. I watched her from below in

the same position on the board floor, where puffs of cool, earthy wind,

patted my backside through the thin frock. Careful.

She snorted and gulped on some fluid. Her gazing at me seemed

uncertain. Was she hiding something? I waited some more. A deter-

mined look would perhaps shake her silence.

“No,” she quipped.

“Then what?” I jerked my hands away from hers. A sudden spasm

pricked my chest.

She looked me clear in the eyes, her eyebrows grew and fell into a

perfect v. Finally, she exhaled. “If I tell you Mizzie you must give me

your word not to utter it.”

“When, have I, ever betrayed you, Elizi?” I felt barbed.

“This is rather different, more so, consequential if...” she trailed off,

eyeing me viciously, “if, let me repeat, if these words were to ever tumble

from your lips, I shall not order you whipped but hanged,” she snorted,

pointing a long, bony, finger my way.

Tabitha Smith  copyright © 2022

“Please do not be overly anxious, but exercise  vigilance,” he paused just enough to swallow. “The  Tydes are safe for now, we intend to keep it that way  and for their sakes and possibly ours.” He lowered his  gaze, for a brief moment… he was gone, “I got to  understand that you’re friends with the Winns.” He  looked at MJ and I. Was that a question? He eyed us,  tightening his squared face, jaw bones gritting. 

We nodded our heads in some kind of agreement. A  quick glance at MJ confirms so. 

“For now, until we get to the bottom of this  unfortunate situation, avoid contacting them without  supervision. Talk to Mrs. Upton MJ. As for you Burch,  there are rather fairly new matters that we must  discuss now, and cannot be delayed any further. Son,”  he paused, I sprinted forward on the cosy sofa, my  ears were twitching, “your DNA result was emailed  in. As you and your guardians were aware, a haste  was pushed on it. The physical copy will be made  available sometime next week.” He swallowed harder,  leaned forward, his breath escaped, a warm, burning,  minty sensation over my face. 

Tabitha Smith  copyright © 2021

Home… wasn’t sure I know what that was supposed to  mean. I stepped through the broken down barbed wire that  separated our little house. I stopped awhile to look at the  shagged roof that was supported with blocks and old junk.  My eyes drifted to the large cracks that opened the corners  of the old wattle walls. I looked at Cassy’s little teddy bear  that Ma claimed she bought at the yard sale last Christmas.  But truth was, I saw her taking it from the dumpsters. 

Look at her, so young and active but so silly I  thought. Tears sprung from the corners of my eyes as I  watched her running and playing all by herself, happy to  tell me what she did at school today.

There was my reason for staying in this dump.  Cassy, my little baby sister. If I were to run away I know  my wicked father would start beating her too. I don’t know  why Ma stayed with him. We could always go to grandpa.

 My dad overworked Ma, she did almost everything  26 around the house and still had to work at the Kurtens’ three  times per week to make ends meet. That drunkard worked  on the old family farm he got from his parents like a mule  but gambled every dollar, leaving Ma to find what she  could for us all. After everything we have been going  through, I promised myself to work really hard in school so  we could get a chance to a better life out of this living hell  one day.

Tabitha Smith  copyright © 2021