Disclaimer: This story is set in a time period where African Americans were still slaves. It can at times be extremely racist. Please know that this is not meant to offend, just paint a picture of the 1800's.
*
I never thought I'd love a colored man. I always prided myself in bein' too level-headed. That's what my daddy used to tell me,
He'd grab my calloused fingers between his own and whisper in my ear, all snake-like, "You keep on bein' a good girl Corinne, you real level-headed fo' a woman."
I was, even learnin' to read real nice from Miss. Lizabeth. I could talk almost the entire first half of the holy book. Daddy was real proud, he even rewarded me some nights. I wasn't supposed to tell, he said it was 'cause my sister, Mary. She couldn't read and he said she'd be jealous. I know now that that ain't the truth.
It wasn't 'till I met Samuel that I started to think all funny. He was from Virgina and sold to daddy for a mere 25 dollars. His left hand was real lousy- I never found out why-so he couldn't do no work on daddy's cotton farm.
He worked with the gin most though on Friday's and Saturday's he came into the house. It was my job to watch him and the couple others, with Mary, and make sure they did no slackin' off. I was pretty good at it too.
When I first saw Samuel, I'd been scared. He was blacker than any colored man I'd seen, so dark that the pupils in his eyes matched the rest of 'em. And he was big, a sure 400 dollars or more without that lousy hand. He was real handsome, but I hadn't noticed right away, I was too level-headed.
I refused to love him when I first found out. But one night, when I cried, I let myself admit it. Samuel said he knew all along. That's when I let him kiss me.
My life changed to hell soon after. Or I thought it had. But I don't regret what I did no more. I just realized that Samuel and the events 'cause of him didn't ruin my life, they jus' changed it.
I'm in New York, hidin' from my life back in the south. It's a strange, strange place. I read The Liberator every chance I get, and I find now that I agree with it. Slavery no longer belongs' in America. America is free.
I know Samuel, where ever he went, agrees. And I know my baby, when he's old enough will think so too. I only miss Samuel, no one else from before. Sometimes I cry, thinkin' back to daddy's rewards. Sometimes I cry for Samuel and I wonder if he cries for me. I wonder lots of things. And I pray for lots of things too.
*
I never thought I'd love a colored man. I always prided myself in bein' too level-headed. That's what my daddy used to tell me,
He'd grab my calloused fingers between his own and whisper in my ear, all snake-like, "You keep on bein' a good girl Corinne, you real level-headed fo' a woman."
I was, even learnin' to read real nice from Miss. Lizabeth. I could talk almost the entire first half of the holy book. Daddy was real proud, he even rewarded me some nights. I wasn't supposed to tell, he said it was 'cause my sister, Mary. She couldn't read and he said she'd be jealous. I know now that that ain't the truth.
It wasn't 'till I met Samuel that I started to think all funny. He was from Virgina and sold to daddy for a mere 25 dollars. His left hand was real lousy- I never found out why-so he couldn't do no work on daddy's cotton farm.
He worked with the gin most though on Friday's and Saturday's he came into the house. It was my job to watch him and the couple others, with Mary, and make sure they did no slackin' off. I was pretty good at it too.
When I first saw Samuel, I'd been scared. He was blacker than any colored man I'd seen, so dark that the pupils in his eyes matched the rest of 'em. And he was big, a sure 400 dollars or more without that lousy hand. He was real handsome, but I hadn't noticed right away, I was too level-headed.
I refused to love him when I first found out. But one night, when I cried, I let myself admit it. Samuel said he knew all along. That's when I let him kiss me.
My life changed to hell soon after. Or I thought it had. But I don't regret what I did no more. I just realized that Samuel and the events 'cause of him didn't ruin my life, they jus' changed it.
I'm in New York, hidin' from my life back in the south. It's a strange, strange place. I read The Liberator every chance I get, and I find now that I agree with it. Slavery no longer belongs' in America. America is free.
I know Samuel, where ever he went, agrees. And I know my baby, when he's old enough will think so too. I only miss Samuel, no one else from before. Sometimes I cry, thinkin' back to daddy's rewards. Sometimes I cry for Samuel and I wonder if he cries for me. I wonder lots of things. And I pray for lots of things too.
