It's then that I know the 'her' they talkin 'bout is me. I feel proud of Cecile for stickin' up fo' me, but Samuel's responses worry me to no end. Will he kill me so I won't tell no one? I said nothin' of him tryin' to run. I sigh, waitin' fo' their conversation to continue. But it don't.
I make my self be known, liftin' up from my chair and headin' to the kitchen. When I enter, I cough jus' once, lettin' 'em hear my presence. Both their eyes find mine in less than a second, one angry, one soft.
"You here fo' supper?" Cecile asks me, standin' up.
"No I ain't real hungry, you can sit," I lie, prayin' that my stomach ain't gonna rumble.
Cecile seems all happy at my request, her dark eyes lookin' like bright stars. I can't help but thinkin' of 'er husban' and that kid I'd shared my day with. If her husban' would've stayed, would've she had a child? Would she want one even, or be worried 'bout it growin' up the way she did? It all seems so sad, that even if she was desperate for a baby, she wouldn't get one.
"So where you been all day, child?" Cecile asks, lookin' at Samuel. At first I think she's askin' him, but then she turns to me, "Go on," she says.
"I didn't say nothin' to my daddy, so you ain't gotta worry 'bout that," I tell them, mostly Samuel, lookin' at him directly, "I ain't one of those girls."
"I know," Cecile says, smilin' with both her mouth and eyes.
She makes me remember my mom, though I never even met her. I was born first, then Mary and then she died. But Cecile's eyes, the way she don't doubt me, is what a mother's supposed to do. She supposed to love me, no matter the crazy thoughts runnin' 'round my brain.
I long for my mother now, someone to sit with and braid my hair and tell me that I still sane. Jus' cause I'm sittin' with the slaves, keepin' their secrets, don't mean I'm crazy. I need someone to tell me that, to hold me and tell me that. The mistress ain't even close.
"You still gonna run?" I ask Samuel, "cause Mr. Granger's scannin' the grounds tonight, so I wouldn't go past that tree if I was you."
He don't even look at me, jus' pursin' his lips and starin' at the table.
"I ain't lyin'. If you gonna run don't do it tonight, he lookin' 'round past that tree, lookin' for runaways." He gives me a look, all pained and hard, lips still pursed tight. He mad.
Then I say my goodbyes to Cecile and go to my bedroom.
I make my self be known, liftin' up from my chair and headin' to the kitchen. When I enter, I cough jus' once, lettin' 'em hear my presence. Both their eyes find mine in less than a second, one angry, one soft.
"You here fo' supper?" Cecile asks me, standin' up.
"No I ain't real hungry, you can sit," I lie, prayin' that my stomach ain't gonna rumble.
Cecile seems all happy at my request, her dark eyes lookin' like bright stars. I can't help but thinkin' of 'er husban' and that kid I'd shared my day with. If her husban' would've stayed, would've she had a child? Would she want one even, or be worried 'bout it growin' up the way she did? It all seems so sad, that even if she was desperate for a baby, she wouldn't get one.
"So where you been all day, child?" Cecile asks, lookin' at Samuel. At first I think she's askin' him, but then she turns to me, "Go on," she says.
"I didn't say nothin' to my daddy, so you ain't gotta worry 'bout that," I tell them, mostly Samuel, lookin' at him directly, "I ain't one of those girls."
"I know," Cecile says, smilin' with both her mouth and eyes.
She makes me remember my mom, though I never even met her. I was born first, then Mary and then she died. But Cecile's eyes, the way she don't doubt me, is what a mother's supposed to do. She supposed to love me, no matter the crazy thoughts runnin' 'round my brain.
I long for my mother now, someone to sit with and braid my hair and tell me that I still sane. Jus' cause I'm sittin' with the slaves, keepin' their secrets, don't mean I'm crazy. I need someone to tell me that, to hold me and tell me that. The mistress ain't even close.
"You still gonna run?" I ask Samuel, "cause Mr. Granger's scannin' the grounds tonight, so I wouldn't go past that tree if I was you."
He don't even look at me, jus' pursin' his lips and starin' at the table.
"I ain't lyin'. If you gonna run don't do it tonight, he lookin' 'round past that tree, lookin' for runaways." He gives me a look, all pained and hard, lips still pursed tight. He mad.
Then I say my goodbyes to Cecile and go to my bedroom.
