I'll Fight For You

Chapter 7

Elizabeth grabbed Harry's hand just as he tried to go toward the commotion. "The overseer will take care of it," she said.

"I'm a doctor, I might be of some help," he said reassuringly. Elizabeth sighed looking undecided.

"Okay," she conceded and let him go.

He jostled through the crowd of slaves who had gathered to take a glimpse of the person on the ground. He reached the center of the crowd and found a young woman, early or mid-twenties laying on the ground. He squatted and started examining her. Suddenly the slaves started scampering away as the overseer galloped his way through the field whipping any slave in his way. He dismounted the horse easily and walked toward Harry and the woman.

"Was that necessary?" Harry asked looking up at him.

He was a short red haired timid man for an overseer. He was trying hard to hide his timidness, but Harry could see right through him. He was intimidated by Harry, scared even, but he did not want the slaves to see that. He did not want them to know that he was a weak coward, which Harry assumed the slaves already knew but could not do anything about.

"Is she dead?" he asked ignoring Harry's question.

"She's still breathing, we need to get her somewhere with a shed now," Harry said.

The overseer ordered two male slaves to pick the girl up and take her to the cabin where they kept sick slaves.

                                                                                                                                       *****

Harry walked in the cabin where the young woman was laid down on a dirty floor with five other sick slaves. The room was reeking in a way he could not describe. It was hot and humid. The windows where open, but only drew in hot air. There was a man in the center of the room grunting painfully, another stared up the ceiling blankly. Two of them were asleep. The fifth one was sitting up, his back on the wall. They were all male. He squatted next to the woman they brought in and examined her again, her heartbeat was very faint, he opened her eyelids and noticed that her pupils were slightly dilated.

"She has been sick for a while, hasn't she?" he asked the overseer.

"Only a week," he answered covering his nose with the back of his hand, "she's just one of the weak ones."

"How could you possibly think she was fit to work in the field in her condition?" Harry asked feeling angry.

"Mr. Hawkins said everyone that can stand and walk had to work except for the old and little children.

Business is slow and bad," the overseer replied and spat on the floor. Harry looked at the patients in the room again. The neglect was palpable. They were sent to that cabin to die.

"Maybe he should consider treating people working for him better if he wants his business to run smoothly," Harry said and walked to the man grunting and sweating profusely. He squatted next to him.

"Has any doctor been here?" he asked the overseer.

"Yes, he said there is nothing he can do for them," the overseer replied.

He looked at the patient closely and noticed rose spots. He had never seen them on a slave especially with skin as dark as his.

"What's your name young man?" Harry asked the patient.