Saraphine

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

December 1839

Saraphine had not seen Daniel in three long months—not since the day he had fought against her owners to defend her. She knew he was gone—she simply didn't know where.

At first her heart had ached for her lost friend. She had spent her days glancing up from her work hoping to catch some glimpse of him—and her nights hoping she might have a surprise secret meeting from him like she had had before.

But those glimpses and those visits had never come.

As time wore on, Saraphine came to the realization that her friend was gone and she forced herself to accept it. She missed him terribly but hoped that wherever Mr. Levenworth had sent him, there would be plenty of trees to climb and no pressure to act as if he were something he wasn't.

As for Saraphine, life had gotten much much harder.

She no longer worked inside, nor did she ever have an evening of. Her every day was full of back breaking labor.

Today she was pulling cart full after cart full of split wood to the shed behind the house. The logs had to be split ad chopped nearly a mile from the house because the noise bothered Missus.

And Missus insisted that the carts be pulled by the slaves to save the mules from growing too fatigued.

Cart full after cart full of firewood was hoisted up by Saraphine and hauled nearly a mile to the woodshed, while a crew of ten men chopped it and five more loaded the cart.

There were five more men at the shed to unload and stack the firewood. It was a long and tiresome task for Saraphine and her body ached. She did not dare slow down.

Another white plantation hand named Horris was overseeing the work. Unlike Cecil, Horris lacked any shred of sympathy for her simply because she was a small ten-year old girl.

If she slowed her pace he was quick to turn heavy handed. Saraphine wanted to do her best to avoid that.

The only plus side to winter was the shorter days. It gave her a bit more time in the evenings to read with her mama.

"Alright, that's the last load for today," Horris announced when Saraphine reached the woodshed with her twentieth cart load of firewood.

"Am I through for the day, sir, or do you have more work for me?" Saraphine asked, hoping she was done.

Horris spit a long stream of tobacco, onto the tattered fabric Saraphine had tied around her feet to protect them from the cold. She clenched her fists but said nothing.

"I don't reckon I got anything else for you today. Not sure what they keep a worthless girl like you around for anyhow. With any luck they'll take you to the Spring auction and replace you with someone who can really work."

"I work," Saraphine countered.

The words barely had time to leave her lips before Horris struck her so roughly across the face she tasted blood.

The five men unloading the cart made no move to defend her. Saraphine knew they couldn't. They would be punished severely if they did—but Saraphine still felt a tickle of annoyance.

Daniel had once said he couldn't understand why folks allowed themselves to be treated the way colored folks were.

Saraphine, with blood on her lip and anger in her gut, wondered the same thing. Why?