1800's America is structured by racism and built on slavery. With whites at the top and blacks at the bottom, the intersecting of these two groups is impractical. When it comes to love however, this structure fails to exist as a black slave woman an...
"Mhm. Clarence Napoleon Bayne. He is Master's only son." Nettie informs me. She looks around then leans in closer. "I heard that he is a very talented artist. Apparently he went to one of the greatest art schools in England."
"An artist? What's he doin' here at the plantation?"
"Master Bayne is retiring and his son is heir to Bayne Hall."
"Heir?" I ask not knowing what the word means.
"Ugh! Don't tell me you're that stupid. Master Bayne is getting old which means someone has to take his place, right? Sir Clarence came here to Florida so he can take charge of Bayne Hall."
"Oh. So that means he's gonna' be our new master."
"Eventually, yes."
"Nettie, how do you know all these things 'bout the Bayne family?" I question.
"I should be asking you why you're so curious 'bout Master's son." Nettie snarls at me, taking my question as an attack. She gasps and a smirk forms on her face. "Don't tell me you fancy the white man?! He's way out of your league!" She bursts out into laughter.
"No! of course not. I was just wonderin' that's all." I sigh and roll my eyes.
"Listen, Caramel, I'm not like you other slaves. I know things, things you wouldn't understand. Now what you need to do is mind your own business and keep on scrubbin' them floors." Nettie yaps as she begins to head out the dining room.
"It's Mentha..." I correct her, but she ignores me as she always does and continues to walk away. Nettie is the master's pet. She likes to think that she's higher than the other negroes because she's a mulatto. In reality she is just the result of an unwanted gift from a white man. She's quick to boast about her white father, but doesn't talk much about her mother. It's likely that her father doesn't even know she exists, and if he does, he's probably the one that sold her. Nettie's joy comes from the white folks' approval. She's ratted out other slaves for stealing food, plotting to escape, and talking bad about whites. Her snitchery has gained her some privilege though. She has more freedom than the other negroes and even received education. But at the end of the day, she is still a slave. Despite her white father, the whites still see her as a negro. The negroes, see her as a pain in the ass. I almost feel bad for her though. The poor thing thinks that one day her father is going to come save her and set her free. Maybe she just tells herself that to cope with the fact she will always be just like the rest of us.
Most of what I know about the Bayne family is information i've gotten from Nettie. However, i'm not sure how much of it is true as she once claimed that Master Bayne used to be the president of the United States. I try to get on Nettie's good side so I can hear all the juicy details of the latest Bayne family drama. I even tried to be her friend at one point, but I can tell she is disgusted by me. She would be a decent person if she wasn't so stuck up. Although we seem to be around the same age, she treats me like a dumb child. I've had some schooling as a little girl. I can read and write a bit, but that's all. Of course Nettie doesn't know this. I wouldn't allow her to. She'd probably rat me out to Lady Martha-Anne. An educated negro is dangerous. They're harder to control, and more likely to escape. I'm sure the only reason why Nettie got education is because she's a pet that can be used against the negroes.
Just after I finish cleaning the floors, Permelia comes into the dinning room to set up for dinner. She hums a delicate tune while placing the expensive silverware on the neatly folded floral napkins.
"You need help with that, Permelia?" I offer well getting up from the floor.
"Oh Mentha, you is always working so hard. I'm good, love."
"Alright, i'll just get started on the laundry then."
"Actually i'll take care of that, baby. You all sweaty and stinky from this Florida heat. Go get yourself cleaned up, i'll tell Lady Martha-Anne you'll be back in time to serve dinner."
"You sure?" I ask feeling bad.
"Mhm. You go now." Permelia insists. I nod thankfully and make my way out of the Bayne mansion.
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The sky burns a bright orange while the pink clouds sparkle in the sunset like angels. I stand in front of the river, where my day is at it's peak of tranquility. The cool water, the silent seclusion, the delicate whir of surrounding nature, and then of course – it will be back to work. I unravel my head scarf allowing my long kinks to be free, I slip out of my dress, then walk into the river until the water is thigh-length. In my hand is a bar of soap that is almost finished, along with some fresh mint leaves. The soap doesn't have much of a smell, so I rely on the mint to replace the odour of sweat with a sweet scent. I fully submerge myself in the water, then stand back up to rub the soap and mint against my nude brown body.
Crunch!
My peace is interrupted when I hear the sound of a footstep crush a branch. Oh no. I am not alone. I begin to feel panic as the thought of getting caught enters my mind. Slaves are not allowed on this section of the Bayne family's land unless we are loading water. There is a large pond by the slave cabins that is meant for us to bathe in, but the water is murky with dirt and the area has many snakes – too many snakes. Not to mention, that pond seems to have become more of a toilet then a bathing area. Whenever I get the chance I come here to the river to clean up quickly. With all the trees and bushes it is easy to not to be seen. I guess I got too comfortable with the idea that it's unlikely someone else would be at the same part of the river as me at the same time. What was I thinking? I heard more footsteps – this time, they were getting closer. Please be another slave. Please don't come this way. Please be another slave. Please don't be Master Rick. I stand frozen in the water, trying not to attract any attention by making noise. I see a bush move, and out comes a white man – that white man.
It is Clarence Bayne, Master's son. He is shirtless – his fit torso and muscular arms exposed. His hair appears to be a light brown in the beaming sun. He notices me in the water and comes to a halt. I stand in the water, still frozen, looking right back at him in fear. He is looking back at me with a delicate expression. Once again, I am making contact with those green eyes. This time, my naked body and bare breasts dripped wet, completely exposed. I sand still in fear expecting a whipping, a beating, a severe punishment. I know i'm not supposed to be here. Yet, here I am. I am going to get whatever is coming to me.
"Sorry. I didn't know this section was occupied. I'll go take a swim elsewhere." he said calmly in his deep voice. The last thing I was expecting was an apology.
"S-sorry Sir! It will never happen again!" I shriek before dunking my head into the water. I hold my breath for as long as I can then come back up to gasp for air. While catching my breath, I notice that he is gone.
