http://www.oocities.org/eyre_crowe/slaves_waiting_for_sale.jpg
The horizon was outlined in a soft golden halo, and the land was still – but it wouldn’t be for long. Soon the overseers would disturb the only peace us slaves would ever know. We only knew peace in our sleep; we only knew freedom in our dreams (and Sundays, of course). But just like that halo on the horizon, there was always a glimmers of hope.
I’d been a slave for as long as I can remember, up at dawn everyday without fail. Now in the autumn of my life that glimmer of hope no longer shines for me, but I keep it alive in my heart for my sons. That’s right, I got three sons (and a sweet daughter, I’ll not forget to mention) – surprised I don’t have more, actually. After all, we slaves are only good for two things: free labor and breeding. But I’s one of the lucky ones, I found me a fine man. He was strong and kind, loved me about as much as Rosas loves the color red. He was the master’s favorite slave because he could do the work of two men (and it’s that damn work that killed him). He left me with four children that we love more than life itself, and that’s why I have to give them up. God help me!
I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll die a slave, and that’s all right with me. But I will do everything in my power to make sure my children won’t end up the same way. They deserve better than this squalor. They’re my contribution to creation, now it’s time for them to be given a chance at contributing something as well. My boys have more than brute strength, they’re talented men who could really put some good back in this evil world.
When I heard a slave could earn his freedom through military service, I nearly drowned in my own happy tears. You see, us slave women got us a good network of gossip. News travels from one plantation to another like fire on a trail of gunpowder. One day, while I was working up at the house I heard it tell that a rebel recruiting agent was passing through town, and could enlist our men into the military. It was risky business to be sure, though. The master doesn’t like the idea of his slaves going off to win their freedom (hell, if I was as nasty and greedy as that ole conservative bigot, I’d probably not like it much myself). But that didn’t matter to me. I was going to find that agent, if it killed me! But first, I had to tell my boys.
After the day came to a close, I practically tripped over myself running over to their quarters to tell them the good news. This was the start of something wonderful! The military was only the beginning! Soon the abolition would trickle down to the rest of us – I just knew it! My baby girl could someday put her head down in the evening and enjoy the sweet slumber of a free woman.
I thought for sure my sons would be as excited about this as I was; my heart was bursting I was so happy for them! And then, in an instant, my heart shattered, and the dreams for my boys came tumbling down in shards.
“Mama, it’s not that simple,” my eldest explained. “If the master finds out you’ve even been thinking about this, he’ll put you on the wrong end of the noose!”
“I don’t care; this is a chance at a new life for you boys. Then once your time is completed, maybe you could come back for your sister.” I never thought I’d have to beg any of my children to grasp at the chance for freedom.
“That’s just it, Mama,” the second eldest insisted. “It’s five years of dangerous fighting. They don’t put us colored soldiers in the back of the line when those shots start firing. I don’t even know why they call us soldiers; we’re nothing but human shields! That’s not freedom, Mama, that’s suicide.”
“I’ve heard that a lot of soldiers have come out alive and free,” I protested, feeling the pain of dimming hope well up in my eyes. “And Mr. Bolivar says it’s your duty to fight for what’s rightfully yours. Please, boys! Don’t settle for this life!”
“We aren’t settling, Mama,” my youngest son soothed. “Settling would be fighting for freedom knowing we’d never live to enjoy it. We’d be settling for death, and you and papa raised us better than that. It should be a man’s conscience that frees us from this bondage, not the bullet from his enemy’s gun.”
I couldn’t argue with that. How can you argue with the truth?
That night when I got back to my quarters, the room was as black as pitch dipped in ink. My quarters had never been that dark before because I kept that light in my heart. But not that night. That night, hope abandoned me.
I am so sorry to hear that you feel as though hope has abandoned you. You really ought to rejoice that you are with your boys...it sounds like you have been blessed with a lovely family. It also sounds like your husband has raised them with sound logic and common sense. While the idea of the military may sound liberating, your boys have a good point. It sounds much more apealing than it is. It's a gamble and enlisting in the miltary as a slave is simply another form of handing over your freedom. While you would be choosing your master, it is still enslavement but with a much higher risk of death for your boys and for you. they are right. Mr. Bolivar is full of talk and promises, so rather than taking the gamble of your freedom, rest contently knowing you have your family. You are fed and clothed and while in bondage, this entire life is a bondage of some sort. Spend time with your family, love them and know that some day you will be free in the after-life.
ReplyDeleteKeep up your hope! I know it is hard to find hope in the fields, but someday your freedom will come. You should be proud of your sons. They seem to have a good head on their shoulders (they must have got it from their mother). I agree with your sons, freedom does not result from violence, but from a change of heart.
ReplyDelete