"You kno' I ain't lyin'," he says, starin' at me all intense-like.
I look away from 'em, to the ground but I ain't backin' down. I actually more afraid of the Mistress than him. Cause daddy'll kno' fo' sure if he hurt me and then whip 'em real good. 'Course I don't want nobody to get no whippin', but if he violent that really the only option. With the Mistress he ain't ever gonna find out, cause to 'em she an angel.
"You ain't lyin' 'bout what?"
"Everythin'."
Still lookin' at the grass, I start to feel tears in my eyes. Why can't he jus' help me? It ain't like I asked 'em to do somethin' real hard. My life is gettin' all messed up, with daddy and the mistress and Samuel and Mary and... And I don't know why God hate me so much. I kno' that I ain't always awake in Church, but I do love the Lord and I can read the Holy Book and everythin'. But he seems to hate me still. And I really don't kno' why.
"Please jus' tell me."
I don't wanna cry, but I do. I try and hide it best I can, but Samuel real smart fo' a slave. As soon as that first tear falls- he knows.
"She's talkin' to 'er husban'," he finally admits in a real low whisper.
"I thought he was dead."
Was Cecile lyin' to me? The tears come even faster, cause it's then I realize I got no one on my side. No slaves- cause they hate me, and no white folk neither. With the exception of James- no one 'round here has ever liked me. I really should run away to that Hill Country and live by myself. That way I ain't no bother. It'd be real lonesome I guess- but I like bein' alone.
"He is. She talkin' to 'em in the Heavens."
Oh.
"She ain't gonna make breakfast, cause she need this," he says, real hard. But he moves away from blockin' the door. I can go in an' get 'er if I wanna. He's lettin' me choose. And, as much as I like that he allowin' a choice, I don't want it. Not this one.
I don't speak nor move for a minute, though I real jittery beneath my skin. It must be gettin' close to a half hour, and I don't even got no one in the kitchen. No matter what the Mistress gonna be real mad. Maybe I should jus' leave Cecile in peace.
"Can you make breakfast?"
He sighs, then nods. The tears on my cheek dry..
I look away from 'em, to the ground but I ain't backin' down. I actually more afraid of the Mistress than him. Cause daddy'll kno' fo' sure if he hurt me and then whip 'em real good. 'Course I don't want nobody to get no whippin', but if he violent that really the only option. With the Mistress he ain't ever gonna find out, cause to 'em she an angel.
"You ain't lyin' 'bout what?"
"Everythin'."
Still lookin' at the grass, I start to feel tears in my eyes. Why can't he jus' help me? It ain't like I asked 'em to do somethin' real hard. My life is gettin' all messed up, with daddy and the mistress and Samuel and Mary and... And I don't know why God hate me so much. I kno' that I ain't always awake in Church, but I do love the Lord and I can read the Holy Book and everythin'. But he seems to hate me still. And I really don't kno' why.
"Please jus' tell me."
I don't wanna cry, but I do. I try and hide it best I can, but Samuel real smart fo' a slave. As soon as that first tear falls- he knows.
"She's talkin' to 'er husban'," he finally admits in a real low whisper.
"I thought he was dead."
Was Cecile lyin' to me? The tears come even faster, cause it's then I realize I got no one on my side. No slaves- cause they hate me, and no white folk neither. With the exception of James- no one 'round here has ever liked me. I really should run away to that Hill Country and live by myself. That way I ain't no bother. It'd be real lonesome I guess- but I like bein' alone.
"He is. She talkin' to 'em in the Heavens."
Oh.
"She ain't gonna make breakfast, cause she need this," he says, real hard. But he moves away from blockin' the door. I can go in an' get 'er if I wanna. He's lettin' me choose. And, as much as I like that he allowin' a choice, I don't want it. Not this one.
I don't speak nor move for a minute, though I real jittery beneath my skin. It must be gettin' close to a half hour, and I don't even got no one in the kitchen. No matter what the Mistress gonna be real mad. Maybe I should jus' leave Cecile in peace.
"Can you make breakfast?"
He sighs, then nods. The tears on my cheek dry..
