Caged Bird Screaming

The Auction

Henry stared at the boy's dark brown eyes and shuddered. He shifted his gaze, but everywhere he looked, he saw them; hundreds of eyes staring straight at him, looking into his very being. He clutched his father's hand in fear as one of them stood on the auction block. His hair, a mass of brown curls resting on his head. His cheeks hollow, eyes gaunt. His hands slender, his nails carved like a claw. The boy was lean, maybe a bit too thin. Henry felt a lump rise in his throat when he saw the boy's ribs poking out of his worn out skin, dry and saggy like that of an old man -but he wasn't old. Henry could see it in his eyes. Eyes never lied.

"Twenty dollars for the boy." Henry turned his head sharply and felt his skin crawl when he saw the man standing on the podium.

People began murmuring amongst themselves, their voices sounding like bees buzzing around in a hive. Henry tightened his grip on his father's hand and watched as some men went up to the boy. He watched in both horror and fascination as they inspected the boy from head to toe, not caring about the boy's privacy.

The boy stood still, shackled in his chains, his body tense as he was poked and prodded.

"Father what are they doing?" Henry asked.

His father looked at him for a moment before turning his gaze to the boy on the block. "They're inspecting it."

"Why? Who is he?"

"It's a Negro."

"What are they going to do with him?"

"They're going to buy it."

"What will they do with him?"

"Stop asking questions Henry."

By now the place was quiet. The boy still stood on the block, his dead eyes glaring at the distance. He intrigued Henry. Maybe it was the way he stood? Maybe it was the way he held his head high?

Henry removed his hand from his father's and tried to imitate the boy's posture. The brown eyes made contact with his green eyes. Eyes never lied. Henry knew that. His father said they were a gateway to the depths of a man's soul.

Henry gasped. His breath hitched a knot as the Negro's eyes pierced his own. He felt vulnerable. He felt naked.

"Father, can we go home now?" Henry could feel his heart hammering within the walls of his chest, threatening to break free of its confinement.

His father shook his head and called out "I'll take the Negro."

Cold sweat broke out on Henry's forehead as he watched his father pay the man on the podium and take the boy's chains. He felt his world was crumbling before his eyes as his father walked towards him with the Negro tagging behind him like a dog on a leash.

"Come on Henry. We're going home."

Henry looked at the boy trying to hide his fear. He reminded Henry of one of his father's blood hounds with his cold eyes and saggy face. "Father why is he in chains? He's not a dog." Henry exclaimed pointing to the boy.

"It is a dog Henry. Now come on." His father ordered impatiently. Henry took his father's hand and began walking beside him. He turned his head to look at the boy up close and realised he was much older than he thought. Henry wondered if he'd run away, but decided against it. There was nowhere for the boy to run. Even if he escaped, he'd have nowhere else to go. The boy looked down on him. Henry swallowed hard. He was reminded of the cold hard stares his father gave him when he had one too many drinks.

He saw a tear fall from the boy's muddy eyes and trickle slowly down his cheek. Henry looked away. There was nothing he could do.

........