"Corinne, you be polite to Mr. Smith now."
I drop my head, murmuring my sorry to Mr. Smith. I can tell daddy ain't to upset no more, now that his attentions on me. I glance to Mary but she just looks out at the window, watchin' the slaves hack away at the cotton. She don't look relived or nothin'. She just seems kinda faded, like she ain't 'round here no more. Sometimes Mary gets beneath my skin.
I don't no how long Mr. Smith stays, I'm kinda in a bubble of my own, while he and my daddy and Mary talk. Everything they say is all dull, and I thank God again, that I ain't gonna be the one to marry the dreadful man. Honest, I don't wanna marry no one, all the North is crazy and all the south is borin'. I'd be fine to be widowed or somethin' or be like Miss. Lizabeth.
"Corinne, you come say goodbye to me now."
I force my lips to smile as I come closer to the repulsive smell of Mr.Smith. I hold my hand out as he slobbers all over it, grinning still like I want this man to get his spit all over me. Mary stands to my left, still lookin' like she ain't on this planet no more.
"Mr. Smith, you don't be a stranger," I say, laughin' inside my head a little at my joke. He just nods, given' me my hand back, not even knowin' that I heard my daddy say the same to him before.
Daddy walks away with Mr. Smith, Mary trailing behind, as I'm told to go on with my chores. It's midday, so I wander to the kitchen, headin' to watch the slaves as they fix the next meal.
I'm surprised and a little confused, as I walk into the kicthen, and Cecile ain't hummin' a song. Instead she sits with anotha black man, as they talk quiet in whispers. At first I think it's Simon, but with anotha minute of studying I realize I ain't seen this slave before. Maybe he's the new one daddy'd been talkin' about.
"Get back ta work," I tell Cecile, for I can feel my hunger growin' within my stomach.
She looks up at me, her expression a little upset, her black hand stretched out toward the man. She doesn't move, just stares, and I start to feel angry. Cecile ain't too much trouble for the most part, but if she starts blockin' out my commands, she'll get a whippin' and I don't want that. Whippin's scare me.
"Don't make me get daddy," I threaten.
She pays no attention to me, and that's when I see it, the liquid in her eyes. She'd been cryin'.
I drop my head, murmuring my sorry to Mr. Smith. I can tell daddy ain't to upset no more, now that his attentions on me. I glance to Mary but she just looks out at the window, watchin' the slaves hack away at the cotton. She don't look relived or nothin'. She just seems kinda faded, like she ain't 'round here no more. Sometimes Mary gets beneath my skin.
I don't no how long Mr. Smith stays, I'm kinda in a bubble of my own, while he and my daddy and Mary talk. Everything they say is all dull, and I thank God again, that I ain't gonna be the one to marry the dreadful man. Honest, I don't wanna marry no one, all the North is crazy and all the south is borin'. I'd be fine to be widowed or somethin' or be like Miss. Lizabeth.
"Corinne, you come say goodbye to me now."
I force my lips to smile as I come closer to the repulsive smell of Mr.Smith. I hold my hand out as he slobbers all over it, grinning still like I want this man to get his spit all over me. Mary stands to my left, still lookin' like she ain't on this planet no more.
"Mr. Smith, you don't be a stranger," I say, laughin' inside my head a little at my joke. He just nods, given' me my hand back, not even knowin' that I heard my daddy say the same to him before.
Daddy walks away with Mr. Smith, Mary trailing behind, as I'm told to go on with my chores. It's midday, so I wander to the kitchen, headin' to watch the slaves as they fix the next meal.
I'm surprised and a little confused, as I walk into the kicthen, and Cecile ain't hummin' a song. Instead she sits with anotha black man, as they talk quiet in whispers. At first I think it's Simon, but with anotha minute of studying I realize I ain't seen this slave before. Maybe he's the new one daddy'd been talkin' about.
"Get back ta work," I tell Cecile, for I can feel my hunger growin' within my stomach.
She looks up at me, her expression a little upset, her black hand stretched out toward the man. She doesn't move, just stares, and I start to feel angry. Cecile ain't too much trouble for the most part, but if she starts blockin' out my commands, she'll get a whippin' and I don't want that. Whippin's scare me.
"Don't make me get daddy," I threaten.
She pays no attention to me, and that's when I see it, the liquid in her eyes. She'd been cryin'.
