Mind Of A Slave

Who Knows About The War?

11.

"Here, you can eat this," says Hannah, pressing a small piece of bread into my palm. "I don't want it."

We sit with Hannah's brother and another boy in my cabin. It's raining outside. The windows of the cabin have been closed, but creak as they vibrate when the wind hits them. A fire roars in the fire pit.

I barely remember how I got back last night because my mind was clouded with thoughts, but through the exhaustion and confusion, I managed it, somehow.

I eat the bread Hannah gave me and pass her a piece of cooked pork in exchange. She pushes it away, shaking her head.

"Don't you feel well?" I ask her.

"Kinda," she says. She indicates a pain in her tummy.

Her little brother hugs her, heart-warmingly concerned. "Oh no, Hannah!" he says, scratching his head, just behind his ear.

"Go and get some water." I suggest.

"You gotta, you know." Hannah's brother adds importantly.

She shakes her head. "No, Zahhall, I'm fine. Lets walk outside. We gotta get back to our parents."

"I'll come with you," I say. "I got nothin' else to do." Saying those words feels strange. I rarely have any spare time. And when I do I usually spend it with Mama.

We get up and leave the cabin, Zahhall rubbing the top of his head violently with his fist.

We walk slowly along the line of huts. Hannah and her brother live at the very end, near the roomy cabin I spent the afternoon in a few days ago. The other boy wanders off in another direction. I don't know who he is or where he lives.

Hannah's Mama and Papa smile at us as we enter. They are both tall, like Hannah, and extremely muscular. I introduce myself.

"It's good to meet you, Cassandra," her Papa says, and his warm words make me feel very welcome.

"Is you new?" asks her Mama.

"Yes. Well, I come here a few weeks back." I say.

"Thought I ain't seen much a you before," she says. "An' how are you copin'?"

"Fine, I think. I knows other masters ain't as good as Master Ramier," I reply, after a pause.

"I hears that too. I hears other places ain't fair as this one." She tells me as if I don't know. Although she is big, she doesn't look very powerful because she stands with her shoulders down, and her head seems to disappear into her neck. She gazes down at me with big, watery eyes, as concerned as my own Mama often is.

"Yes." I say.

"Although it ain't great now is it?" she says quietly.

As I shake my head, I see her eyes well up with more tears. Hannah's Papa touches her gently on the shoulder, and she turns to him, clutching his arm for support. He turns her around calmly and guides her towards the door of the cabin.

A little shocked, I divert my attention to where Hannah sits slumped on one of the beds. Zahhall leans over her, reaching for the window above him.

"Zahhall! Not yet," Hannah says, exasperated. "He likes to watch the sun set," she explains to me. Zahhall climbs down from the bed reluctantly and lies on his stomach on the floor. He scratches his head and when he pulls his fingers away, they are covered in blood.

"Ow!" he gasps.

"You hurt your head!" I exclaim, helping him to his feet. "Come here, and I'll check."