"You gonna go back inside?" Samuel asks, movin' 'is body so it's leanin' 'gainst the tree like mine. We only inches apart- but further away then when I'd been writin'. It colder without 'is such intense body heat. I dunno whether I like it better or no. I'm not sure if I really wanna kno'.
"No," I whisper, so quiet I ain't even sure 'e can hear me. "No," I repeat, louder this time. I don't gotta be shy an' reserved in front of 'em, sure I a girl- but he a slave.
"You was all ready to leave before," he says. He folds 'is fingers together, tryin' to hide 'is left one- lame one- from my view. But I can still see it a little, a pink strip- white 'round the edges cuts it in half- diaperin' under 'is right hand. Little white strips come out from the cut- coverin' 'is hand, skin stretched skin thin, some lookin' they was once shredded. The finger next to 's thumb is stumped, half it gone. He don't got much 'use fo' it no mo'- that much is obvious. What ain't 'is 'ow he got it- I never seen nothin' like it before.
He notices me lookin' at the part still available to my sight an' he adjusts so it completely gone from my view. I wanna ask but I don't- my voice stuck. I don't gotta righ' to ask- well I do- but it rude. If he wanna 'ide it he can.
"You gonna answer my question?"
"I wanted to be done writin'- not sittin'. I like it 'ere. Outside- I mean."
"Why? You got everythin' nice inside."
"Not everythin' 'is nice," I snap, scarin' 'im a little with such a harsh tone that I 'aven't used befo'. In 'is eyes he has questions, like I 'ave of 'is 'and, an' like me he's gonna have to deal that they will be unanswered.
"An' I don't got no stars inside," I whisper as gently as I can.
"It true that it nice out 'ere," he finally says, glancin' over at me- one eye closed. "You gonna spend all nigh'- sleep under the stars?"
"I dunno. Maybe."
He smiles, laughin' a little. "The ground ain't nearly as well as a bed." He makin' fun of me. A slave! My cheeks instantly turn a bright red- partly from embarrassment- part from anger.
"It ain't like-." I stop myself, I don't gotta tell 'em that I done this before- he was even there with me once. But I guess 'e forgot- an' i let 'im. I don't gotta prove nothin'. "There ain't no way I goin' in now," I finally say- offerin' a little challenge. I ain't able to do that since I was a girl.
He laughs, then closes 'is other eye.
"No," I whisper, so quiet I ain't even sure 'e can hear me. "No," I repeat, louder this time. I don't gotta be shy an' reserved in front of 'em, sure I a girl- but he a slave.
"You was all ready to leave before," he says. He folds 'is fingers together, tryin' to hide 'is left one- lame one- from my view. But I can still see it a little, a pink strip- white 'round the edges cuts it in half- diaperin' under 'is right hand. Little white strips come out from the cut- coverin' 'is hand, skin stretched skin thin, some lookin' they was once shredded. The finger next to 's thumb is stumped, half it gone. He don't got much 'use fo' it no mo'- that much is obvious. What ain't 'is 'ow he got it- I never seen nothin' like it before.
He notices me lookin' at the part still available to my sight an' he adjusts so it completely gone from my view. I wanna ask but I don't- my voice stuck. I don't gotta righ' to ask- well I do- but it rude. If he wanna 'ide it he can.
"You gonna answer my question?"
"I wanted to be done writin'- not sittin'. I like it 'ere. Outside- I mean."
"Why? You got everythin' nice inside."
"Not everythin' 'is nice," I snap, scarin' 'im a little with such a harsh tone that I 'aven't used befo'. In 'is eyes he has questions, like I 'ave of 'is 'and, an' like me he's gonna have to deal that they will be unanswered.
"An' I don't got no stars inside," I whisper as gently as I can.
"It true that it nice out 'ere," he finally says, glancin' over at me- one eye closed. "You gonna spend all nigh'- sleep under the stars?"
"I dunno. Maybe."
He smiles, laughin' a little. "The ground ain't nearly as well as a bed." He makin' fun of me. A slave! My cheeks instantly turn a bright red- partly from embarrassment- part from anger.
"It ain't like-." I stop myself, I don't gotta tell 'em that I done this before- he was even there with me once. But I guess 'e forgot- an' i let 'im. I don't gotta prove nothin'. "There ain't no way I goin' in now," I finally say- offerin' a little challenge. I ain't able to do that since I was a girl.
He laughs, then closes 'is other eye.
