22.
THE FOLLOWING TWO days are uneventful.
Then on Wednesday something happens. It's late in the afternoon and I'm picking cotton in the field with Amos, Hannah and Jack, when suddenly Amos bursts into tears. He cries and cries and he seems unable to stop. He tries to continue working but he is shaking so much that he drops the leaves in the pile for the cotton buds, and through his tears, he can barely see what he is doing.
I check that Noah isn't around and approach Amos. I take the cotton plant he is currently working on out of his hand. I remove the cotton buds and throw the rest of the plant over my shoulder.
He curls up into a ball on the ground. I lift his head and place it gently on my lap.
"We ain't doin' all the work, you know!" Jack shouts. I ignore him.
Hannah shoots me a look of concern, her eyes asking "Is he ok?"
I nod and at that moment, Amos sits up and draws in a deep breath.
"I can't take it anymore!" He blurts out. "I ain't gone be able to live through all a this, Cass."
"You means the work?" I ask.
"An' the war. All a them men an' boys in my cabin was celebratin' an' sayin' we's gone be free soon, but it ain't true, jus' can't be, right?"
"I don't know," I reply, "But I think we've got a chance we's gonna be free an' a chance we ain't. Jus' can't tell."
"She's lyin'," says Jack, "War's lookin' real bad right now an' so I knows she's lyin' jus' to make you feel better."
"She ain't," says Amos, "An' why do you think you know 'bout the war. You knows less than I does."
"Jus' guessin' but I thinks I'm right," Jack insists. "An' then Cass come into our cabin an' then all a us slaves've got hopes we is gone be free!? An' my Papa, he believe it too but it jus' ain't true, an you knows that Cass so I don't know why you's saying thing like that, things like how South is gone lose the war an' North is gonna free we slaves. 'Cause now my Papa's jus' gone get real sad when 'e find out that not gone happen. It ain't fair that you've gave him hope."
I stare at Jack with loathing, hardly aware of anyone else around me. A hot fire of anger burns behind my eyes.
I feel Amos tugging my arm.
"Let's go," he hisses. I tear my eyes away from Jack. I stand up, confused.
"What?" I whisper.
"Let's go, jus...let's get away from here, please."
My eyes search the field, aware, observant. Noah isn't in sight.
Amos and I break into a run. In only a few moments, we have arrived at the fence. Amos starts to climb it but I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
"No, not the woods, it ain't safe."
"Cass, it were jus' a few gunshots. We gone be fine." He says, dismissive of my worry. He starts to climb again.
"It weren't ''jus' a few gunshots' the last time we was here. We coulda been killed," I retort, with a touch of iciness in my voice.
He backs down the fence, squinting at me. His eyes pool with tears and for a second I think that I've hurt him, but then he starts to talk. And he talks and talks and talks, explaining everything to me, answering every question I could ask and telling me everything I need to know about the battle.
He tells me about the journey, how it was long and tiresome.
He tells me about the trenches, the horrendous conditions he was forced to endure, and the gross rodents he encountered.
YOU ARE READING
Mind Of A Slave
Historical Fiction"The life we're living is the easiest of the difficult." Cass Jinney Jackson is a Louisianan slave girl. She has recently moved to a plantation near the woods, but her life there is far from ordinary. Growing up as the civil war rages on, she finds...
