Minority's Voice: A Novelette

Part 3: The Choice

5 p.m.

Darcaue didn't mean to sleep for so long, but after waking up from loud footsteps entering the slaves' room, he still had no idea if he would help the patriots. Although the sleep helped him clear his mind, it didn't help in the decision. He knew whatever his choice was- it would affect everything. He basically was a symbol for other slaves he were to help. He tried to ask himself, would it be worth it even if he didn't get his freedom?

There was a loud cough across the small rectangular room, interrupting him from his thoughts. Darcaue had forgotten that someone was even in there besides him. As he looked up, he saw Bess, the eldest slave and most likely the wisest.

"Sorry Bess, I didn't see you." He said sleepily.

Bess laughed- an uncontrollable, loud laugh. There were a few missing spots inside her mouth from missing teeth , yet it never bothered anyone- for her laugh was real, genuine, and it made everyone else want to laugh and smile too. Just because, it made Darcaue smile.

As Bess looked up at her favorite nephew (for she called anybody and everybody who was younger than she- which was everyone- "nephew" or "niece.") She noticed Darcaue wasn't like his normal straight face self. He usually was good at hiding his thoughts and feelings, but it seemed whatever was bothering him was causing him anguish. Bess realized she hadn't seen Darcaue so vulnerable since when his best friend died, and even then he never shed a single tear. It amazed Bess that he could lock up his feelings so well.

"Boy, what's bothering you?" She asked genuinely concerned.

Darcaue sighed, running his hands through his hair. That started to make Bess nervous. For Darcaue only did that when something really bothered him. She wanted to stop it, so she went through her head the things that could be bothering him. The only thing she came up with- was the thing with the tea. (And in which she knew not much about.) Even so, she asked him about it.

Still unsettled, Darcaue took a deep breath trying to get his thoughts together. He didn't want Bess to worry. He didn't want anyone to worry for that matter. He and the slaves were like family- they've been there for each other and helped one another after tough days. Because their old owners had brutality beaten them- physically and emotionally, littles things reminded them of their old masters. For example, the stomping of boots when their master was nearby or the sounds of yelling far away, would drew the slaves into panic. Dreams were even worse- for they couldn't escape those no matter how hard they tried. The words that stricken them cold night after night- would be relived. It tortured all of the slaves. The worst part was that no one really knew how to handle it. Most of the time a slave would occasionally walk around all gloomy after a bad night's rest. But other times, one of them would have a nightmare- awakening everyone in the room after cries and shrieks were heard and echoed across.

Although Darcaue knew he would never walk around in such a manner, he still didn't want the slaves to worry about him. So after taking a calm breath, he responded to Bess.

"Nothing, really." He wanted to end it there. But after a few, long seconds, he decided it would be a good idea to tell her. "I just... well... You see..." He was fumbling with the words, trying to form them in the right order. After countless seconds of his unclear speech, Bess began to run out of patience- and that was something, for she had a great deal of it.

"Spit it out, boy. You making me nervous."

And so, he did.

"A volunteer group is planning on dumping the tea from those three ships, you see. Well, Hewes is going to be in it, and he wants me to be there too. But only if I want to." He paused thinking, and then finally he whispered so softly Bess had to lean in to hear, "I just don't know if I want to."

Bess understood his problem. Well, she understood it, but that didn't mean she wasn't annoyed at it. For most answers were obvious, if you just looked at it from another's point of view, Bess thought. She then wanted to internally go through a rant about "people these days don't think nothing" and how "stupid they could be," although she would probably use a much stronger word if it wasn't for the little kid in the room. (Even though Darcaue was far from little.)

Instead, she asked "Why not? Is there a problem with going or something I don't know of?" She was pretending like she knew nothing, although she actually did know. If Darcaue told her what he was worried about, it could save them time. She was brilliant, and so she silently patted herself on the back for coming up with such a great plan to save time.

"Well, it's that I don't think I should go. Us, slaves, we may or may not get out freedom. And then, what if we don't get our freedom after? We'll be fighting for freedom and it's not even ours! That- that's outrageous! And what if we helped the British instead? Most likely they would set us free. But- but I know what it like is to feel ruled unfairly. For that's what it has been like for me- for all of us our entire lives." His breathing was ragged, for he never spoke so much, so strongly- in his life.

Poor old Bess was staring at him in shock. A few long seconds, which felt like hours for Darcaue, stood still until Bess moved from her spot next to Darcaue's bed. She found a small chair that had been used too many time, and promptly sat down. Finally, she spoke.

"Now, now. That was quite the something!" Bess smiled brightly. She gave a pause before continuing, "Well, I can't tell you what you should or should not do- for that ain't my job, and it's your choice. But, I can tell you the facts. The facts are that most likely we won't get our freedom- probably not this generation or the next. But someday, some year, we will. For I already see colonists who are against it. One day that will come, but it certainly won't come anytime soon." Bess waited a moment to let her words sink in. Darcaue was staring at nothing, just thinking. She knew she was probably being hard on him, but people needed to see the truth-even if it hurt.

"As for whether or not you should help the colonists," Bess continued, "I think you should look at it from their shoes. There's a British king who has taxed them unfairly. They have no say in government, and no matter how hard they try- the government won't listen. However, Britain is in a lot of debt after the war they fought for the colonists." She was trying to make sure Darcaue see both sides, for it would only be justifiable decision if he knew everything- and no information was left out.

Then she realized Darcaue was probably lost on her logic, and so she asked, "But I guess that's not important to you, is it?"

Darcaue shook his head, wondering where Bess was going with this.

"Well, since you know you won't get your freedom nor will any of us, I want you to ask yourself, who deserves to win, Great Britain or the colonists? Yes, I know you might be angry at colonists for what they are doing to us- but they all aren't that bad. Just look at Hewes. He's never beaten us, and neither have other colonists. Just because some have hurt people like us, doesn't mean they all will. For some, they just want their freedom- as do I and as do you. And they are innocent from all this slavery talk. Do they not deserve your help, just because others that looked like them have hurt you?" Bess then added, "And if you say they don't deserve your help, then you are just like the whites who have discriminated against us."

Darcaue nodded, knowing full well it would be unfair to justify such actions. Maybe he was being a little selfish, for he was only looking for reasons of how it would benefit him. At that moment, he then decided he would stop thinking that way. Although whatever will happen later may not affect him, he wanted to do something to help others. A lot of the colonists were innocent from slavery, he thought. And those people want freedom- and they are all willing to risk their lives for it. They believed so strongly, so passionately against Britain- whom have overused their powers.

Darcaue smiled. He finally knew which side he was going to be on. He got up from his bed, and went towards Bess. Wrapping his strong arms around her somewhat big waist, he told her thank you, and practically hopped and skipped down the stairs.