Saraphine

Chapter One

Georgia

July 4th 1839

The rough fabric of Saraphine's feed sack dress clung to her dark skin in the balmy heat of the summer afternoon. The plantation was bustling with activity as everyone prepared for the festivities that would be taking place that evening.

"Saraphine, child, go out back and fetch us some extra onions from the cellar. The Missus likes plenty of onions in her tater salad."

Saraphine nodded obediently to her mama and dashed from the kitchen just as fast as her ten-year old legs could carry her. Outside, she took time to marvel at the tents and tables covering the vast east lawn.

Her owners, Mr. and Mrs. Levenworth, were some of the wealthiest folks in Georgia and it was clear they wanted others to know. Guests would be arriving within hours and Saraphine could not wait to see the fancy dresses and baubles the ladies would be adorned with.

They would laugh coyly and spin like angels on the dancefloor beneath twinkling candlelight as men held them gently or smoked pipes and chatted in the corners.

Saraphine dreamed of one day being like those women. She wanted to feel that silk against her skin and have a handsome gentleman bow at her and offer her his hand for a dance.

Her mother told her that her dreams would only let her down but Saraphine simply could not let go of them.

Missus, which was what all the slaves called Mrs. Levenworth had taken a special interest in Saraphine—she even hired a tutor to teach her how to read and write; though Saraphine was never allowed to study with the Missus' children, of course.

Missus insisted that a colored girl simply could not be educated with white-skinned children. It was forbidden.

"Saraphine!" her mama's voice snapped from the doorway. "I'll be needin' them onions, child."

Saraphine pulled herself from her thoughts and dashed to the cellar. Everything had to be just right for Missus.

***

The meal was all laid out upon the silk draped tables. It was a mouthwatering assortment of dishes that caused Saraphine's stomach to growl. The scent of the aromatic meal, wafted to her nose and Saraphine felt her mouth begin to water.

She never in her life tasted most of the things that had been prepared for tonight. It was forbidden by Missus for slaves to eat food meant for white mouths. But the Missus always made sure her slaves did not go without. While their fare was not fancy, there was always oats for breakfast and potato soup for supper.

Saraphine knew they were blessed. Missus said many slaves never had warm meals.

Saraphine heard horse hooves and carriage wheels in the distance. Her ten-year old body trembled with excitement. She only wished she could look a bit nicer when the guests arrived. Her feed sack dress was stained and worn. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun....

The shining porcelain skinned ladies who would be here tonight would look so very beautiful....

As Saraphine stood in the corner with her hands folded, a slave girl several years older than herself walked up to her. Saraphine thought her name might be Mary but she couldn't be sure.

There were nearly one hundred slaves on the plantation and they were not permitted to socialize unless they were working together. Saraphine had never worked with Mary before.