Samuel turns around when I tell him to, me pretendin' it's cause it'll help his wounds. Really, I just wanna see the man who was in my dreams. He turns all slowly, like he don't want me to see him. I wish to tell him to hurry, but I feel too bad to have the words come.
I feel sick when I see his face. Samuel ain't the troublemaker, he ain't the slave who was with me in the cabin, readin' out loud when I'd asked. Rather, he's the new slave. The one who could kill me, the one with the lousy hand. I ain't sure what to do at first, keep my calm or runaway screamin'. I come to the decision, that cause he's the one who saved me from daddy, it don't matter that he's killed me in my sleep.
Samuel don't speak even when I ask him. I can see it in his fiery eyes that he don't like me, that he don't like nobody white. I try talkin' to him 'bout Cecile and that husband, but he keeps his mouth locked up tight. It really ain't fair cause I helped him and all, but I don't think that's how he sees it. I think cause my daddy held the whip, he thinks I was the one who hurt him.
I finished cleanin' up a while past, but I pretend I'm still workin'. In a corner of my heart I feel kinda guilty, and don't think it right that he has to be on the gin today. Plus he saved me from daddy, I feel like the favor should be returned.
"I'm sorry 'bout daddy, he can be mean sometimes."
The apology is sincere, but I make it sound otherwise in case Mary is spyin' on me again. Samuel just grunts, his fists still clenched on the table. I try not to look at the taunt skin on his knuckles, 'cause that just leads to thoughts on me dyin' beneath his hands. I decide to bring Cecile up again.
"I ain't understand what Cecile was talkin' about," I say, another slab of meat on his wounds. He don't know that he don't really need it.
He still doesn't respond and I grow increasingly frustrated. Gettin' the cold shoulder, even from a slave, ain't too favorable. It makes you feel like scum.
"I ain't afraid to call daddy back here, now you tell me what Cecile was talkin' 'bout." It would've sounded better if I hadn't been so quiet.
"You sure you wanna do that?"
He sounds all threatenin', his voice deep and scary. I step away from his back, the meat slippin' from my fingers and crashin' to the ground.
It seems like forever before I find my voice again, and I still stand paces from the slave. He may of saved me from daddy, but I don't owe him no more than what I've already done. He's on his own now, let him work on the gin all day lon'.
I feel sick when I see his face. Samuel ain't the troublemaker, he ain't the slave who was with me in the cabin, readin' out loud when I'd asked. Rather, he's the new slave. The one who could kill me, the one with the lousy hand. I ain't sure what to do at first, keep my calm or runaway screamin'. I come to the decision, that cause he's the one who saved me from daddy, it don't matter that he's killed me in my sleep.
Samuel don't speak even when I ask him. I can see it in his fiery eyes that he don't like me, that he don't like nobody white. I try talkin' to him 'bout Cecile and that husband, but he keeps his mouth locked up tight. It really ain't fair cause I helped him and all, but I don't think that's how he sees it. I think cause my daddy held the whip, he thinks I was the one who hurt him.
I finished cleanin' up a while past, but I pretend I'm still workin'. In a corner of my heart I feel kinda guilty, and don't think it right that he has to be on the gin today. Plus he saved me from daddy, I feel like the favor should be returned.
"I'm sorry 'bout daddy, he can be mean sometimes."
The apology is sincere, but I make it sound otherwise in case Mary is spyin' on me again. Samuel just grunts, his fists still clenched on the table. I try not to look at the taunt skin on his knuckles, 'cause that just leads to thoughts on me dyin' beneath his hands. I decide to bring Cecile up again.
"I ain't understand what Cecile was talkin' about," I say, another slab of meat on his wounds. He don't know that he don't really need it.
He still doesn't respond and I grow increasingly frustrated. Gettin' the cold shoulder, even from a slave, ain't too favorable. It makes you feel like scum.
"I ain't afraid to call daddy back here, now you tell me what Cecile was talkin' 'bout." It would've sounded better if I hadn't been so quiet.
"You sure you wanna do that?"
He sounds all threatenin', his voice deep and scary. I step away from his back, the meat slippin' from my fingers and crashin' to the ground.
It seems like forever before I find my voice again, and I still stand paces from the slave. He may of saved me from daddy, but I don't owe him no more than what I've already done. He's on his own now, let him work on the gin all day lon'.
