From "One Drop Rule" book of short stories.
1821
Today was the day when we all gathered to hear a word from Sadie Lee. She was one of the slaves that brought the old religion with her from the motherland. The people showed up one by one praising and singing as we watched Sadie Lee dance and chant, jerk and buck until finally she stopped. We all waited patiently, yet not so, for we wanted to hear a word from the wise old woman. She was never wrong. She would tell us of things to come and things that had passed. She would tell us that the Great Spirit would set us free one day, either in life or in death.
Finally, she turned and stood straight and tall in a trance that would have probably scared those that didn’t know her. She opened her mouth and her loud voice rang through the quarters.
"She’s coming for her child. No one will stop her. Her child’s face is white as the white man’s, her hair as red as flames of fire. She’s coming children, but do not be afraid. Her purpose is clear and her goal is set. She is coming for her child and she won’t leave till she has her child."
Suddenly Sadie Lee fell limp to the ground. All the people started praising and dancing. I praised and danced because I saw my mother doing it. But I wanted to know what it all meant.
The next week, sure enough, there was a young girl brought to the plantation. Massa had gone to the slave market and brought that red headed child home. She looked like she was about sixteen or so, just in time for breeding. Massa didn’t want to buy so many. He wanted to be able to reproduce on his own place. But, it seemed breeding wasn’t for him. It seemed like every time one of the slaves would get pregnant, they would lose the child. Sadie Lee had already told us the Great Spirit didn’t want us bringing no children into this cruel place. Massa thought he’d been buying poor choice of slaves. But we all knew there was a greater power at work because Sadie Lee was praying to the Great Spirit.
Massa gave the girl to me; told me to go and help get her cleaned up. She didn’t talk much. I saw it was her first time being torn away from her family. Plus, I didn’t see any marks on her body or callouses on her hands and feet, so I figured she must had been treated half way decent. As I washed her, I talked to her softly and tried to get her to feel comfortable as possible. I put my hand on her chest close to her heart. She put her hand on top of mine and told me her heart was broken. I asked her why was her heart was broken. She turned around and looked me in my eyes and told me her story.
"My heart broke cause my Massa sold me. He sold me away from my mother and all that I know. He sold me away from the one I loved. He was a fine gentleman who had worked to gain his freedom. Don’t know why my Massa got so angry when he found out we wanted to marry. He pitched a fit, fussing and cursing. Called me a whore and sold me. Mama was crying, vowing she would get me back. But I think my mother dead. Don’t really know. It seems like I can feel it. I sure wish she would come get me."
Tears ran down her face as I kept washing her. I knew she wasn’t the only one that had experienced the pain of being taken away from her loved ones; I also knew that this was the beginning of her pain. Massa had other plans for her. She was young, tender and had never been touched. He was an old cruel man. I couldn’t understand why he would come down to the slave quarters and sleep with the slaves when he had a wife at home. I brushed her hair and found her some clean clothes to put on. I also fixed her a place in the corner for her to sleep. I did this in order to save her one more day from the Massa’s hands. I knew his liquor was going to get him roaming tonight. When he comes in, he will have me instead of her.
The next day was breeding day. The poor girl didn’t know what was ahead of her. She was built for work but looked like she hadn’t worked a day in her life. Massa sent two men to fetch the girl. I could tell she was scared because they practically had to drag her out. If she only knew, resistance would make it worse. When she realized what was going on, she fought until she was restrained. Massa had her put in a yoke for submission. Her time on this plantation had taken her out of the comfort she had known.
That night was not like the night before. There was no comforting her. She cried for her mother all night. Her cries were that of a long lost child wanting to find her way back to the love she had once known. I could have never known the love she had because my mother was killed while trying to escape to freedom. I was too young to remember her.
One early morning, when the slaves went out to the fields, there came walking a dark woman with a scar across her face. She had on a pair of man’s pants and shirt and had a sack thrown across her back. It seemed that no one saw her but me, as if I was meant to see her. My eyes followed her as she made her way to the quarters, and with one blink of the eyes, she was gone. I thought to myself that maybe it was the heat or maybe I was still tired from the day before. From that night on, things began to get kind of weird and scary to me. The young girl started doing strange chants, mixing things and making little dolls. Massa started getting fever and having nightmares that sent him running out of the house every night. He started telling the people that he was on fire; that there was an old nigga slave pouring fire on him. Of course, everyone started to think Massa was losing his mind. But I didn’t. I knew there was something strange going on. I knew that when a storm came, it brought the wind and produced damage. Sometimes it produced damage that could not be fixed.
As the days and nights passed, the young girl continued with her voodoo rituals and it seemed like Massa got worse and worse. She would tell me that her mother was here and she had come to take her away. I wanted to say that I didn’t understand or know what she was saying, but somehow I did. My heart was full. I thought about all the times Massa strapped the men to ground and beat them. I thought about all the times he sold us and separated us from our loved ones. God knows where some of our mothers and fathers are. I was almost happy to see Massa get tortured. But I was not ready for what was to come next.
There was a scream in the night, the last night I had seen the young girl on the plantation. We heard Massa’s wife scream. Her screams could be heard throughout the quarters. We all ran to see what the matter was. When I got there, Massa was bleeding from head to toe. It looked like someone had beat him like a slave. His back was torn open, his speech was to a whisper. His last words were, "She came for her child." With that, Massa took his last breath and died.
After that, we still gathered to hear Sadie Lee preach to us about the mysteries of the Great Spirit. My heart never doubted her words again. The girl was gone, and we had a new owner, Massa’s son. Soon Sadie Lee died and the old religion started to die too. Things were different, even a little better than before. There wasn’t much cruelty. Massa’s son demanded, though, that we start tending church services to learn his religion. Change was coming but not fast enough for some of us. We were still bound by someone else. Nevertheless, we still held on to the words and ways of Sadie Lee.
copyright 2012 Pam Thornton Books
