A Slave Master and her Slaves, melody dupree [novels to read in english txt] 📗
- Author: melody dupree
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James Johnson's Point of View
It was a cold and dreary night as I made my way to the front door of my distant cousin's house. I rapped on the door long and hard with a grim expression on my face. Just then the door opened and my cousin looked out at the rain before looking at me.
"James, it has been too long," Micah said two minutes after he had opened the door.
"Yes it has been a long time," I replied with a grimace on my perfect face.
"What is wrong James? It is not often that you come down here to good ol' Atlanta, Georgia. Are Melissa and Joseph okay," he asked as he let me inside.
"The kids are okay so is Melinda. But one of my slaves and his family got sick and died last month. I'm in need of a new slave family now that I'm short of one," I said taking the proffered seat in Micah Boldin's sitting room.
He quickly sent for tea and biscuits and a slave boy with braids immediately came in with a silver tray,set it down and quickly disappeared back inside the scullery. That was where he slept on the floor, I learned, as he was the family butler. Not long later, we retired to bed and our dreams.
The next morning, I got up and walked downstairs to where breakfast was already ready and waiting to be consumed. My cousin came down behind me with his lovely wife and daughter, and I waited to sit down until they had all taken their seats. I sat down on my cousin's left hand side and pretty soon I was roped into a light conversation. Afterwords, I went out to check on my horses to find my mare nursing a baby foal that probably belonged to my cousin.
"Well look at that, James, my foal has taken a liking to your horse," Micah said coming up behind me.
"Where are your horses," I asked turning to face him.
"They are in the pasture, grazing. This one just likes to wander away from the herd," he replied as a small slave boy ran over looking frantic.
"Master I-," he cut off when he saw the foal with my horses.
"Misty," he crowed running up to the foal.
As my horse reared back on her hind legs, I pulled the young boy away from the foal.
"You cannot run up on my horse like that," I scolded as the boy looked at me wide-eyed.
"I-I-I'm sorry. I didn't know," he whispered looking up at his master.
"Where are his parents and other siblings," I asked Micah who looked at me in shock.
"His parents are tending the horses and his only other sibling is my butler. They are off limits and not for sale," he replied sharply.
"Are there any other slave families here with a teenage boy and a young boy about five years old," I asked and the little boy gasped.
"I have only one family more that meets that description. What are your other requirements," Micah asked looking at the slave boy in front of us.
"The teenager needs to know how to cook and clean and work his way around the scullery. The mother needs to be good at mending and washing the clothes. And the father and child need to be good with horses," I said stroking my horse whom had wandered over to me.
She started nuzzling against my face and I pulled a sugar cube from my trousers pocket and fed it to her.
"Go check the scullery and you will be surprised at what you will find, James," Micah said sending the boy away.
I nodded and went towards the house quietly entering the scullery, to find two teenage boys, both with braids, tending to a large dinner that included roast beef, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and a salad with fresh bread and butter.
"Well I know now that I don't pick new slaves in vain," I said causing the two boys to panic.
They spun around and looked at me fear being the present emotion on their faces.
"Relax, you're not in any trouble. I was just looking over the slaves that can do what I require in a slave. For instance both of you boys can cook and work your way around the kitchen and your parents are good with the horses. But the little ones might end up hurting themselves by being around those horses. Which one of you is the butler here," I asked and they calmed down.
"I am, sir," the more leaner of the two, said looking down.
I nodded and walked around the other boy, pausing to look at his back, quietly noting the three whip marks going down his back. I continued my examination until I noticed a mark going down his leg, from underneath his trousers, and down to his ankle.
"What is the mark on your leg from," I asked and the boy looked down at his leg almost as if he had forgotten that the mark was there.
"My master got angry with me. I tried to scramble away and the whip connected with my leg, sir," he whispered and I nodded absently.
"Very well, I will let you boys get back to cooking dinner," I said and I left the kitchen.
"Micah," I called and he poked his head out of the stables.
I walked over to him quickly and noticed a slave boy of about five years old gently washing a new foal down with soapy water.
"I believe that the other slave boy in that kitchen lied to me about how he got that mark on his leg, Micah," I said while watching the slave boy work.
"What do you think he lied to you about," Micah asked.
"He has this mark going down his leg and I asked him what it was from. He told me that you had gotten angry with him and that he had tried to scramble away causing the whip to connect with his leg and that is why I do not believe him," I said walking over to Strawberry.
"Anquan knows better than to lie about how he gets those marks. Now you say he has one going down his leg, James," Micah asked his brow wrinkled in confusion.
"Yes that is the only one I asked about, but I don't believe he told me the truth on how he got it," I said looking back at Micah and the slave boy.
"I'll talk to him because more than likely my son gave him that mark on his leg," Micah said and he walked out of the stables, leaving me alone with the slave boy and the horses.
I looked at the slave boy and noticed that he was staring at me instead of washing the foal. I walked over to him and crouched down beside the horse, gently rubbing her head as the boy resumed washing her down. The colt nudged her head against my hand and laid her muzzle down on my shoulder.
"She likes you, sir," the young boy said suddenly.
"What's your name, son," I said looking up at the young child next to me.
"My name is Anthony, sir," he whispered as I stood up.
He grabbed the bucket of warm water and gently poured the bucket of warm water over the foal's soapy body. Just then the boy came into the stables with Micah right behind him. The little boy looked up and ran towards the older boy with a smile.
"It's not everyday he see's his father in here to help him out with his chores," Micah said with a smile.
I noticed that the older boy looked up with an expression that I recognized as shock on his face. I turned to Micah with the question of how he knew something that the older boy thought was a best kept secret when I thought better of it.
"Well Micah I think I have seen all I need to see," I said and walked out of the stables.
"So you will buy them, James," Micah asked catching up to me.
"I will buy them," I said and handed a heavy pouch of gold coins to Micah. "I want to leave under the cover of darkness. Can that be arranged?"
"It can and I will make sure they are ready to go when you are," Micah said as we sat down to dinner.
After we ate dinner, time passed pretty quickly. I found myself stocked up on food and drink and clean blankets to keep me warm. With the goodbyes out of the way, I ushered the slaves into the wagon and climbed in behind them. With that we were off.
Chapter TwoAnquan's point of view
As I left the only home I had ever known, I knew this could be a new beginning for us even if we didn’t know what came with this new owner and what lay in store for us. My son scrambled across the small open space and climbed onto my lap and I looked at my new master who had not said anything to us as of yet and saw the hint of a smile cross his face when he looked at my son.
“He would make a good friend for my daughter if only she could look past what her mother has taught her about being better than anyone who is different from her,” he said and I looked down at my son as he tugged on one of my braids to get my attention.
I pulled him closer to me when I noticed that he was shaking and tried to provide him with the warmth that he needed so he wouldn’t get sick. My master looked at me closely and I kept my head bowed as I tried to keep my son warm by breathing down his back even if that wasn’t enough I did the best that I could. My master reached into the trunk that was beside him and pulled out a wool blanket and wrapped it around me and my son and then handed one to my parents. With a look of thanks I put my head against the side of the wagon and closed my eyes thinking of the story of a faraway land that my family had supposedly come from. Bound in chains my grandmother had said. Carried away from our home on a ship. Sold by those who thought we were animals. One day if I ever got my freedom I would return to that land and start a new family over there. I would discover my roots and start fresh with my own house and land to plant and grow my own food and not eat the scraps off of another man’s plate.
“What are you thinking about because I can tell you are not asleep,” a deep voice asked.
I opened my eyes and looked to my left and said, “I was thinking of a faraway land that my family came from.”
“You know I find it hard to believe that a boy like you would be worrying about his roots and where his family came from instead of his future and where his life is heading,” my master said and tossed me a pillow.
I placed the
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