Caged Bird Screaming

The boy called....

Axe laughed. “You cannot be my father.”

“Why is that?” Axe sensed a hint of amusement in the man’s voice.

“My father disappeared after I was born.”

“I disappeared two weeks after you were born Paul.”

“That is not my name.” Axe said getting irritated. It seemed to him, the man saw the conversation as a joke.

“Paul was the name your ma and I gave you when you were born.”

Axe shook his head. “My name is Axe.”

“You get many names when you’re given to different masters. But to me, you’ll always be Paul.”

Axe began to hate the man’s company. Who did he think he was raising him from his peaceful slumber to tell him he was his father? “Please you must be mistaken. I know you’re not my father so save me some misery and leave me alone.”

The man sighed defeated and left the room. Axe went back to sleep hoping the talk he had with the man was nothing but a dream.

........

Peter sat quietly by the slave chamber door looking at the stars. His heart ached with sorrow when he remembered his son’s first words. “You are not my father.” He buried his face in his hand and wept. It wasn’t the boy’s fault he didn’t know who he was. He never got to know his own father. Peter tried not to remember the day he was taken away from his family.

He placed the hoe back in the shed along with his fellow men and made his way back to the small hut he shared with his family and a little girl his master had bought over a week ago. As he made his way along the dirt path, he rubbed his sore shoulder trying to relieve the stress from it. It had been a long hard day hoeing the damps soil, planting cotton seeds and he couldn’t wait to see his family again, especially his wife and newborn child.

He entered the small hut he shared with the ones he loved and laughed when the little girl he and his beloved adopted ran up to him giggling happily at his return. He hugged her and twirled her around savouring her childish glee. He placed her firmly on the ground and ruffled her black hair gently. She then ran back to play with the small wooden toy he made for her when she arrived to make her feel at home.

He went to his wife’s bedside and sat on the floor. She was fast asleep still recovering from childbirth. He kissed her forehead and smiled when he saw his little boy fast asleep in the makeshift cradle he had made for him. He took his child in his arms and rocked him gently smiling at how precious he was to him, his ma and sister. As he looked at their little hut, it pained his heart to know his child would have the same fate as him. It pained him to know his child would be used as nothing but a tool to build a nation in the most brutalized way possible. He’d be taught the sting of the whip and the hardship of being a slave.

Peter placed the child back in his cradle and sat beside his foster daughter. “Miriam have you eaten?” He asked watching her play. Miriam shook her head and kept playing with her toy. “Wait here.” He said standing up. He needed to go and get his family’s ration of pork and corn from one of the overseers. He hurried along the path to one of their cabins where some of his fellow slaves lined up to collect their portion of food. He waited impatiently for his turn and when he entered the cabin, he quickly grabbed his family’s share, of one and a half pounds of pork and some corn and scurried back to his hut. He began preparing a small meal that would hardly fill his family. As he boiled the small amount of food he had, he watched Miriam play. Those moments were one of the things he kept treasured in his heart because he knew that one day, he could be with his family and the next be taken away and given to a stranger. Families were separated everyday and there was a slim chance they’d see each other again.