(ONE DAY)
TOPIC SUGGESTED BY SHERINA
The slave toiling looked up at the sky and wished for something different.
The sun shining in blue sky testified as he labored.
It penetrated the layers of his mind and laid them open.
So much pain, so little joy
He looked over and saw his woman.
She was bent over working heavy with child, she looked at him and smiled.
Six months pregnant, toiling for an uncaring man.
His heart weeped tears.
His child would be born a slave just like he and her
Like all these others surrounding them.
The overseer on his steed riding in the midst of them.
The other slaves whispered of Christmas, of the grand party the master would give.
Dancing and liquor, some new rags to cover their backs.
The slave working pondered these things.
Last night he had learned a new word, racism.
It was so profound a revelation, that they had a word for this hell.
He had heard it from a traveling man. A former slave who had run away. He now lived on the fringes. He moved in the darkness spreading light to the slaves that would hear.
His words had penetrated the slaves heart.
This slave his name unimportant because he was one of many. Irrelevant or so it would be said in future times. Told in church he should be happy he was a slave, told he should serve his master humbly and happy.
The cotton reminding him that winter was near.
Cold days and freezing nights.
Into this his child would be born. Another slave added to Massas roll.
He played these things in his minds as the day dragged along, the sun traveling much like the man, spreading light.
Eventually it began to sink in the western sky and the slaves climbed on wagons to be returned to the shanties that they called home.
When they arrived they were counted and turned loose to go to their homes.
He took her hand and they walked to their shack. She so beautiful that his breath caught in his throat. He had to tell her, such the way of things
He sat her down and told her of his dreams, no more slavery, freedom for their child. Her eyes wide as he laid these things before her.
In the end he simply grew quiet, no more to say. They looking at the crackling fire.
The words coming from her mouth as whisper yet so loud. "I'm going with you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"What about our child?"
"One day he will thank us."
He placed his hand on her stomach and she placed hers on his.
They stood up and began to pack their things.
A knock upon the door.
He opened it.
The traveler stood there.
It is time to go my son.
She walked out before him, he looked around and closed the door.
End scene.
JERALD hamzahfaruq.jm@gmail.com MURPHY
