The African trinkets

The African trinkets (On Hold)

*A Picture of Nolia*

The fresh meat had arrived and all those silly girls went to the windows to gawk at them. I couldn't care less about those new slave imports. I had chores to do, chores that need to get done if I wanted to serve Miss Chrystal during her English lesson. Today little miss Chrystal was going to recite a Shakespearean sonnet and every night before bed I secretly helped her practice in turn I knew the sonnet by heart. I was so nervous and excited for her that I was determined to not miss moment of her lesson.

Getting to the parlor room was a chore in itself on days like these; elbowing my way through the ocean of curious fools worked me into a sweat. I had almost crossed the ocean when I heard the screamed whispers:

"Look at her!" Lucille burst with shock.

"My Lord, that poor baby girl." Rosie put a hand over her heart as it were breaking.

The words 'baby girl' caught my attention and a long gone desire spiked up in me. My eyes peered out of the window to catch a glimpse and my heart fell into my stomach when it wasn't her. I wanted to smack myself for being so foolish but I just couldn't tear my eyes away from the young girl being herded out of the slave carriage and into the sheds (slave cabins). To me she looked about 12, she was tall and lanky, underfed and her hair was in disarray but other than that she looked as healthy as a horse and as exotic looking as one of Miss Victoria's pet snakes. Her high yellow skin was unmarked by the beams of the sun and the whip of a master's hand. My heart reminded me that the girl I was hoping to see, but didn't, would be around the girl's age. I scolded myself and soldiered on into the parlor.

"Good morning." I greeted Wanda and Pen as I took in the room. It looked like I walked in on some gossip. I usually didn't care for gossip so I set about my work. I started by opening the curtains and the windows to get some air circulating in the room. Air pushes out the bad hot and leaves behind good cool. I open the last curtain, the window displays the manicured gardens and the vast inescapable Tate owned grounds and I saw him. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw a man sitting under the peach tree that shaded one of the slave cabins.

I was so caught up by the sight of him that I didn't even notice Wanda and Pen staring over my shoulder, "What are you looking at?" Wanda gently nudged me with her elbow.

"Is that...?" Pen squinted and gasped, "Is that our young Master Tate?" She waved at him and before I could stop myself I had already ceased Pen's arm and forced it down to her side, "Ow! What'd you do that for?"

"When have you ever seen a house maid waving like a fool at her master?" I used propriety to support my rashness.

"Don't be so mean, Nolia." Wanda protected her friend, "We all know that Pen has a little school crush on our young Master Tate." This was like a pin prick in my cheek and the thought of standing next to Pen made me angry. I moved away from the window and sat down to polish some silver.

"Hush, now." Was all I managed to say as I smoothed spoons.

"But can you blame me?" Wanda sat down next to me, her elbows on the table and her head in her hands, she was dreaming, "He's mercilessly handsome." I dropped a few forks in front of her and a cloth hoping that it would knock him out of her hopeless day dream.

"I don't see it." Pen sat down on the other side of me, "It's his daddy, Master Tate, who is handsome. Say what you want about him but you can't deny that the man comes from good breeding." Pen sighed.

"You girls will drive me up the wall if you keep talking this way. Now polish some silver before I stab you with these fancy forks that cost more than the three of us put together." A silence descended the table and the thought of Lance sitting out there, waiting for something or someone or me made me giddy. I couldn't sit here a moment longer, "I'm bored of polishing. I'm going to go and see if Lucille wants to swop with me."