* * *
Enraged and foiled, Iyila marched into the house; carrying some bed things. She could have been in some other place, probably in Chicago or some other free state, running around like a bird. Rather than Charleston and on her way to dress the master’s son bedroom. She was sure of escaping. In fact she had already seen freedom. She had immediately obeyed her instincts the moment she saw Gibson conversing with a beautiful lady. She was so close until that bastard came along. The cursed-wretched-imp, titled man. Who obstructed her whole plan. Her whole life’s dream - freedom. And the nerve of him to call her a thief, ungreatful and foolish. The godforsaken smirk on his face as if he knew it all. God, she felt irritated by his guts, obviously he appeared to be an arrogant, snobbish Southerner who considered himself higher than all. His smirk told it all. He even appeared to be a wealthy man because the fabric of his suit was just like Zachary’s.
She didn’t understand why he didn’t strike her though. It was completely unusual for a wealthy White to leave her be when he could have the pleasure of breaking her jaw for been rude. Most of all, he helped her when he could easily have spoken the truth and walk away. Also, as he clamined to be a planter; it was confusing for him to have saved her. She had been thrown into a confused state when he started his lies. She was surprised by his ability to lie without stammering and the seriousness his face bore, leaving no room for the slighest doubt.
She pushed open the door and set the things on the table. Placing her hand on her hip, Iyila thought of him. The man had been too sure, as if he knew it all. As if he knew exactly how Gibson was thinking. And as much as it pained her, she had to admit that she owed him her life. Well at least she would never see him again. At least he would never come for a payback for the favour.
She started to work on the bed.
Back at the carraige, Gibson had given her a slap but that was a tip of the iceberg considering what the master could have done if the man had told the truth. The imp had saved her life when she expected him to do otherwise. He was surely a strange planter and without doubt intelligent.
The bed was smoothened at last. She sighed and wiped off some sweat on her face as she stood to admire her work. She hadn’t considered bed making this difficult. Especially as she saw the other Negroes doing it so perfectly and with so much ease. All the while she thought of the man at the railway station market. She had been busy with perfecting the bed. Immediately Iyila managed to smooth one part, the next minute she found a bump in an area that wasn’t.
House keeping wasn’t one of her talents. She could have done better as a field slave, but she was bent on learning everything as quickly as she could. She preferred a house slave than to be in the midst of vile overseers that could at any time whip her. She had been very shocked when the Misstress had appointed her for the position. She had been choosen because she was smart and didn’t talk Negro. Iyila was bent on maintaing that position at least she could see the Master’s son and confirm if his eyes were as green as the cursed man. Or if he was as tall as the cursed man or even if he was_ well she didn’t get to notice whether or not he was handsome except his own eyes. They were mesmerising and as green as a leaf. She had never seen anyone with such colour of White, not that she had been so close to any before. However his eyes had immediately caught her attension the instant he starred at her with an intensity. Such that he could find so much truth beneath it. Those bloody eyes were the reason she had not been able to break free although she doubted that.
She inspected the bed again to make sure of no bulges and when she saw none. She turned to go out. She heared laughters as she procceded into the house. The master’s son had arrived that noon and since then the whole house had been noisy. When she walked into the dining room. She saw the whole family seated and chattering and a Negro serving them. Zachary was seated beside his father. Her stomach flustered the moment he star
ed at her. She slowly walked to Miss Susan and whisperee in her ears.
“The room is ready miss”
“Thank you” Miss Susan replied. Iyila stood up and just as she was about to live, a man strolled in. “Charleston has indeed changed” he playfully muttered and walked to sit opposite Zachary. She assumed him to be the master’s son, then he turned to her. And, that moment, she wished the ground would open and swallow her. She slightly staggered as she tried to remain balanced. She tried to dissapear but the air was too thick. She tried to rush out but her legs ahd become too heavy to move. All she could do was to stare at him with shock.
He also was shocked to see her but he was quick to recover then he gave her a knowing smile. That instant she knew she was in a major problem.
“That may be all for now” she heared Miss Susan say. Nodding she managed to drag herself out without fainting. Minutes later she found herself in the hallway, trying to breath and digest what she had just seen.
It couldn’t be. It hadnot to be.
“I am dreaming” she said when she had leaned on the wall. It just couldn’t be true. Of all people in the world, of all the places in the world, of all the plantations in Charleston, of all the fathers in the world. The cursed -Wretched-Imp had to be the son of her master!
She held her head like a woman about to go crazy. The man at the railway station that she had carelessly stumbled onto. Whom she had been so rude to was afterall her master’s long awaited son. The heir to the plantation, possibly her soon to be master!
And to worsen the whole situation, the bastard recognised her. She ran out of ideas.
What could she do?
What if he told the master of her intensions. What if he told Susan of their escapade back at the market. Susan might relieve her of her duty and send her to the fields or worse report to her husband. She could be killed!
What if he was already telling the whole family of her foolishness. Zachary wont spare her!
She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t tell Mama Brown because she could possibly make a fuss neither could she tell Deila for she might hate her for trying to escape without her. Nor Dede, he would never forgive her. Iyila tried to calm her nerves by gasping fir air but it didn’t work. She remained there as she waited for Zachary’s men to come running for her. She knew she was in a major problem.
Authors note;Read comment and vote. I loved this
chalter what do u think.
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MULATTO (Iyila) (Editing)
Historical FictionA Historical/ Romance novel MULATTO (Iyila) tells the story of a young slave girl during the era when slavery was at its highest peak in the American South - the year 1860, before Abraham Lincoln's succession as president. Iyia was not just any slav...
