It a relief to see jus' Mary an' Miss. Lizabeth at the table- their appearance no better than my own. They both look like the storm destroyed them- like they was outside las' night, not cuddled together in the cellar-room. Mary's hair is part way down- the lighter tips reachin' to her mid- stomach. I ain't used to seein' it down- us girls- Mary 'specially leave it up always- that custom. It weird- I never knew it was so lon'.
Miss. Lizabeth, although lookin' distraught, still got every hair in place. They jus' frizzy an' a little wild. On her- it don't look too bad.
Sittin' down- I feel a burst of excitement lookin' at my breakfast. It soup- sweet potato- Cecile's favorite to make. No other slave could've learned how to make it- in jus' one mornin'.
"Did Cecile make this?" I ask- feignin' like I got no interest in the matter. I can't directly ask if she lived. Miss. Lizabeth with scold me like no other.
Mary nods,"It ain't her best though."
I take a sip of the soup, and fin' myself agreeing. It really ain't her best- but that don't matter cause she alive. I wouldn't care if she made the worse soup in all the world- as lon' as she didn't die in that storm. As lon' as 'er heart still beats beneath that black chest.
"You right," I say, careful to keep the joy outta my voice. This mornin' is startin' off better than I coulda hoped. Daddy an' the Mistress ain't here- Cecile alive. I sigh, real quiet, now I jus' gotta find out how Samuel is.
"You didn't stay in the cellar," Miss. Lizabeth murmurs, lookin' right at me, "When you decide to leave?"
"I went to look fo' daddy- he wasn't there when I woke up. You kno' where 'e is now?"
"I presume gettin' some sleep with the Mistress." The way she says it makes me kno' that they tryin' fo' a baby again. The Mistress won't never give up.
"Oh, alrigh'." I giggle a little beneath my breath, catchin' Mary's gaze as she starts too. Miss. Lizabeth rolls her eyes but she don't scold us. We jus' children- we gotta righ' to giggle sometime.
It nice to be jus' us three- talkin' bout the rage of the storm- 'till I start feelin' left out. Miss. Lizabeth an' Mary share a bond greater than I share with either of 'em- so when they start talkin' bout things I dunno- I excuse myself an' leave. I don't think neither of them noticed that I even left.
Miss. Lizabeth, although lookin' distraught, still got every hair in place. They jus' frizzy an' a little wild. On her- it don't look too bad.
Sittin' down- I feel a burst of excitement lookin' at my breakfast. It soup- sweet potato- Cecile's favorite to make. No other slave could've learned how to make it- in jus' one mornin'.
"Did Cecile make this?" I ask- feignin' like I got no interest in the matter. I can't directly ask if she lived. Miss. Lizabeth with scold me like no other.
Mary nods,"It ain't her best though."
I take a sip of the soup, and fin' myself agreeing. It really ain't her best- but that don't matter cause she alive. I wouldn't care if she made the worse soup in all the world- as lon' as she didn't die in that storm. As lon' as 'er heart still beats beneath that black chest.
"You right," I say, careful to keep the joy outta my voice. This mornin' is startin' off better than I coulda hoped. Daddy an' the Mistress ain't here- Cecile alive. I sigh, real quiet, now I jus' gotta find out how Samuel is.
"You didn't stay in the cellar," Miss. Lizabeth murmurs, lookin' right at me, "When you decide to leave?"
"I went to look fo' daddy- he wasn't there when I woke up. You kno' where 'e is now?"
"I presume gettin' some sleep with the Mistress." The way she says it makes me kno' that they tryin' fo' a baby again. The Mistress won't never give up.
"Oh, alrigh'." I giggle a little beneath my breath, catchin' Mary's gaze as she starts too. Miss. Lizabeth rolls her eyes but she don't scold us. We jus' children- we gotta righ' to giggle sometime.
It nice to be jus' us three- talkin' bout the rage of the storm- 'till I start feelin' left out. Miss. Lizabeth an' Mary share a bond greater than I share with either of 'em- so when they start talkin' bout things I dunno- I excuse myself an' leave. I don't think neither of them noticed that I even left.
