Smudges

White daisies

I walked through the rows and rows of beautiful white flowers. Do they have a smell I wonder to myself? I pluck one up from the soft cool dirt and inhale the scent of a light grassy smell mixed with dirt and perhaps I catch a small trace of something sweet and airy, yes in my head that's the daisy. With my daisies I have at least a half of acre of them surrounded by beautiful roses, irises, sunflowers, and blue bonnets. I was blessed, the wife of magnolia plantation took pity upon my family we were known as poor Yoeman farmers, my father was employed during the frost months at this plantation to keep the slaves in the field working and making sure they didn't sneak off or slack off. He was a whip man as people around here called it. With not many acres to our name he farmed our own few acres with my two older brother in the summer. Not long after my father started working there my mother started working under Mrs Janet, the wife of the plantation. She was tall and elegant like a rose stem with perfect posture and hair as blonde as the cornfield. Ah my mom who was quite opposite of Mrs Janet, my Mom was short and petite in frame, she looked like years of hard living and poor nutrition. There was beauty in her sharp blue eyes the color like a robins egg in the spring.

My Mother did simple thing around the plantation. She helped Mrs. Janet decorate, accompanied her to lunch invites, really I think she hired her to have a friend. She was so very lonely like a oak tree in the middle of a random field with lots of other plants surrounding her just none she can touch. That's kinda the way I saw it anyways, there was all these slaves women, men, children so many people living around you, but you can not touch them because you are the tall-oak tree hovering in the middle of the cornfield. The slaves all had company, family, rows and rows of each other the same, but Mrs. Janet was truly alone.
I was given little in and out jobs as a small girl, dust this, pick those, wipe down something. In return once a month she would buy me a gift like a doll, or a pair of shoes which I only had one pair in my life at the age of 10. Later it became proper undergarments, a new dress here and there, nothing to fancy. I was still living my same life in the same small shack with the same few acres. I am grateful, how would we ever survived, without the plantation they provided us all with jobs and food we were blessed.
I tuck the daisy behind my ear as Harriet ran towards me she was my little helper all of age 12. A beautiful girl she is growing into, and at my age of 16, our age was not to far gapped for us to giggle and be friends.
"Sparrow did you hear, Masta Mag has took your pappy and rode to the auction, he say we be getting some new help and that we a growing business and we been so good he going to hire more help to take the load off some people. My pa is so happy, he said we been needing a few more hands" said Harriet, her face radiant and excitement or maybe relief I see in her deep dark eyes. the remind me of the night sky.

I didn't think much of this there was always someone passing away, being sold, running, or something of course. A few replacements from time to time was necessary. I was on the fence with slavery, not sure as I looked at Harriet. True and true she was a person a child still, but I was taught they were almost like animals. Taught not to trust them or treat them like other folk. I try not to ponder on it to much. It didn't affect me and my personal life. I treated them like I was taught to.
"Harriet why don't you take the evening off, I'm just going to pull a few weeds out of our flower garden.... you can meet me here tomorrow morning to help me set out seeds for the herb garden. " I said.
"Ok thank you sparrow" I watched as she ran off two braids bouncing behind her head.
In the distance I hear horses nay and with the sun looking ready to turn the skies pink. I know it's Mr. Mag and my father. I quickly finish up my weeding and walk over to see the commotion as the other slaves have started to gather to see the new faces of the plantation. I walked over and brushed my palms over my apron smoothing out the wrinkles, My plain dark jade green dress underneath tattered at the ends and stained with dirt.
I counted seven head get out of the back of the wagon, all were men this time I mentally noted. It looks like it will be a relief to the slaves here, all young to mid twenties it looks like... besides one. I walk up to my father to hand him a small bouquet of my flowers that I had grown. I glanced quickly at the new slaves bound with a chain. I dropped my flowers when I saw him, for his stare was rude and startling and yet I couldn't look away. My father quickly bent down to help me gather the flowers and noticed the men staring at me so he pulled out his whip and told them eyes to the ground, as I stood to make my way home I couldn't help myself so I glanced back. And although it all happened very quickly, I saw him glance and i couldn't tell for a second I thought he smiled , was that fear that crept inside my soul just then as I glance at the ground, I scurried back to the dirt where i felt most at home.