[FIELD HAND [dedicated to my ancestors]
please listen to the music. it sets the tone...
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The people in the field work under the hot sun. Their backs bent as sweat pours from the pores of their bodies and makes the clothes that they wear wet. The children who are to young to work play on the perimeters and are watched over by a girl of about twelve.
A white man sits slouching on the bed of a truck and wipes at the sweat, the mosquitoes. He is chewing on a wad of tobacco and his teeth are roughly the same color of the tobacco. He sits up and his stomach falls over his belt.
He is watching a young black man of about 25 who works in the field and it is apparent by the look on his face that he does not like him.
The sound of the day drones in the heads of all who work in the field, who are present. The songs of the insects...the crickets...the cicadas...the birds that rest in the trees and fly from branch to branch.
As the day carries on all the people who are in the field start to fill up their bags with cotton and trail in to have it weighed. A young woman walks up to the truck and the white man licks his lips in anticipation as he jumps from the wagon to help her with her bag. The black people look as he does this because they know what is about to occur. Many of the older women walk away nervously and the men turn their heads.
As the white man takes the bag from the girl his arm brushes against her breasts and she does not shy from him he makes it seem so innocent as he throws the bag on the scale and weighs it.
The girls name is Sarah and she is about 18 and she has grown a lot in the past year. Filled out so to speak.
The white man laughs and seems to be a different person when she is around and he starts to talk to her. This is different because all the black people before her have been only allowed to have their bags weighed. to get a drink of water before they trudge back down the rows to begin again where they left off in their labors.
The girl is nervous herself she has been warned by her mother who is a housekeeper about the white man who oversee the black people in the fields. She turns to walk away and the white man grabs her arm and turns her around.
"You thank you to good for me gal?" He says as she tries to twist away from him.
The other blacks in the field continue to work as if nothing is happening. This is something that they have all seen time and time again and they are not suprised by what is happening. The children are to far away to see.
"Gotdamned nigger bitch" the white man says as the girl strikes out with her hand and slaps him across the face leaving a big red print.
He raises his hand to hit the girl and before he can bring it down his hand is caught in midair. He is stunned and turns to face the black youth who he was watching earlier. The muscles of the young mans body shine as if he is wearing oil but it is sweat that gleams in the hot sun..
All of sudden things have changed and all the blacks watch as the two men stare at each other a second before the white man says to the black one.
"I see you still ain't learned your fuckin place Silas. You still a uppity nigger just like yo daddy. I guess i'm gone have to be the one that shows you yo place boy."
The white man reaches at his belt and his hand come away with a whip which unfurls as he draws his arm back and flicks it at the young black man. It strikes the black man in the side and he jumps to the side as the whip makes his skin split.
He runs at the white man as he draws back again and he catches his hand in the air as he crashes into him and they both fall to the ground.
The black youth ends up on top and he smashes his fist into the white mans face 2 times before the white man flips him over and they tumble into the ditch at the end of the rows out near the road.
They fight for about 5 minutes and both of them are tired and covered in the red dust of the clay as they stand and the dust drifts from their bodies into the light breeze which circulates around them.
The white man starts to move to the truck and the boy starts to run that way as well. Everyone knows that he keeps a twelve gauge shotgun in the back of the truck and the black man is trying to keep him from reaching it. As he runs he sees the whip on the ground and he grabs it and uses it to hit the white man in the back and the white man screams as the whip splits his flesh.
The white man still tries to get to the truck...to the shotgun but the black man is younger, stronger and he flicks the whip and it wraps around the white mans neck and he falls down to the ground. The young man moves to where he lies after being snatched from his feet and sits on the white mans back and wraps the whip arond his hands and starts to choke the white man who looks around frantically as his life slowly leaves him.
The last thing that he sees is the face of a black woman whose son was killed by a mobb that he was leading dressed in the robes of the KKK. She seems so peaceful as she watches him gasp his last breath.
After it is all over the black people start to look around...at the road and at the treeline. They are looking to see if any white person has seen them and they are relieved that that is not the case.
One of the older black men walks over to the boy and begins to talk to him.
"Boy that old white man was mean as the devil and aint no love lost on us but boy you done killed a white man and somebody is gonna pay for that. I would advise you to get in that truck and drive till you caint drive no mo cause these white folks is gone hunt you down like a dog." Silas looks around for a minute and he seems to want to stay. It is hard to leave all you know. All that makes you you.
His eyes fall on the girl and he looks at her as he climbs into the truck. She looks around and climbs into the truck beside him. In her mind she is thinking that no man has ever stood up for her like this and she is proud of the young man who sits behind the steering wheel of the truck.
He puts the truck into gear and pulls into the highway and points the truck north as the black people continue to pick cotton. It will be hours before they send anyone to get the owner of the field and tell him what happened by then the young couple will have a long head start.
As the truck roars down the highway the young man looks at the girl and begins to tell her his story. The story of his family...his grandfather who came to America in the belly of a ship. A prince stolen from Africa.
A week later they are in the north and they start to live a new life.
Eventually the young woman has a child a son and they name him Silas after his Great grandfather and they tell him the story of his people from the time that he is born.
When he is grown and has children of his own he tells them the story as well.
HAMZAH FARUQ
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