The Slave and Her Apprentice

Getting a Job

I woke up to someone shaking my arm. I could barely see Rose standing over me in the dim candle light. I could see that Jonathan had left and that it was still pitch black outside. I looked back at Rose wondering why she woke me up so early.

“Look after her until I get back.” Rose said.                            

She left as soon as she said that. I looked over at the girl lying on the kitchen table. Her head was turned towards me and I could barely make out her eyes blinking in the semi-darkness. I got up and pulled a chair closer to her. I looked down and studied the girl before me. From what I could see, she had a soft, heart shaped face with skin just slightly lighter than Rose’s. Her frame was petit but strong, probably from all the years of working in the fields. Her back was scarred from the lashings, but it wasn’t as swollen and it didn’t look infected. I looked back at the girl’s face and realized that I didn’t even know her name.

“What is your name?” I asked.

She raised her head slightly to look at me but winced and put it back down.

“Lily.” She croaked her voice dry and hoarse.

I got up and gave her some water and sat down again.

“Lily, that’s a nice name”, I replied.   After a brief moment of awkward silence, I asked the question that has been bugging me since the night before.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what really happened yesterday?”

Lily drew in a shaky breath and winced again. She positioned her head so that she could get a slightly better view of me.

“I was picking cotton when Massa Ignus came over and started messing with me. I kept saying that Massa Jefferson didn’t like it when he mess with me, but he didn’t listen. Massa Ignus got mad and pushed me. I fell on the ground and he started yelling and screaming about me sitting when I should be working. He grabbed my arm and dragged me to the whipping tree where he beat me.”

Just as tears were welling up in Lily’s eyes, a fresh wave of anger welled up inside me. I wiped her eyes with the hem of my dress.  As I wiped them, the door opened and Rose walked in. She shut the door behind her and walked to the table. She emptied her bulging pockets onto the space not occupied by Lily. There were a vast array of roots and herbs that Rose began sorting and putting into jars.

“What is all of that?” I asked.

“Just some stuff that I need.” Replied Rose.

Her tone stopped me from asking further. The sun started to turn the sky pink and Rose went over beside Lily. She helped her on her feet and gave her a new dress to put on. Before she sent her outside for the day’s work, she whispered something in her ear. She sent her outside with a nod and turned to start making that morning’s breakfast. All morning I kept stealing glances at Rose’s face, trying in vain to pick up clues on what she whispered to Lily. Eventually I gave up and began contemplating on my predicament.

I had been in 1808 for a week and a day with no sign of going back soon. I had no idea why I was there or how I got there. I couldn’t remember anything from 2014 except for the general things like cars and cell phones. I couldn’t remember my family not to mention anyone else from my own time. . I was in a situation that I had no way of controlling and it scared me. Panic and helplessness started to etch its way into my mind. Before I could have a complete mental break down, my thoughts soon turned to what I was planning to do. I knew that I had to do something to avenge Lily but the little hitch of trusting that anyone would believe that I was from 200 years into the future sort of dampened things. Not to mention that I had Ignus’ threat constantly ringing in my ears. You were lucky this time, but next time, well, let’s just say you won’t know your own face when I’m done. Not good incentive to start a slave rebellion.

I remembered the look Jonathan had the night before. I began thinking about trying to tell him about my plans. A bunch of possibly horrible outcomes began to pop into my mind at once. It all boiled down to whether or not I was willing to risk my life telling him anything. Telling him could either mean crucial ally or certain death. I needed to get to know him better.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Rose opened it to reveal none other than Jonathan standing in the doorway.

“Why hello Mr. Jonathan.” Said Rose.

“Hello, Rose. How do you do?” replied Jonathan.

“Mighty fine, thank you. What can I do you for?” Rose said.

“Mister Jefferson sent me to get Willow here. She won’t be long; he just has a few questions for her.”

Fear struck me like a charging bull. What could Jefferson want? I didn’t have a cover story yet, and I was no good lying under pressure. I couldn’t tell him the truth. That would mean either a lashing for lying or a trip to the asylum and those were absolutely horrid in 1808, if they had them for black people. I looked at Jonathan, fear draining the color from my face and my body shaking. He looked at me strange then turned towards the Big House. I followed shakily behind him, dreading every step more and more.

We walked inside the Big House and I couldn’t help but gasp at the beauty of it. There were paintings and carvings everywhere. The wood was so shiny that you could see your reflection in it. It was one of those moments I wished I had a camera because nothing but my memory or a picture could have captured the beauty and grandeur of it all. We walked upstairs and down a hall to what looked like a study or small library. Jonathan stopped and knocked on the open door. There was a quiet grunt and a shuffling of papers before there was a regal sounding, come in, coming from the room. I followed Jonathan in and was taken aback by the vast amount of books that were in the room. It really sucked that slaves weren’t supposed to read; otherwise I would’ve had a field day in there.

Mr. Jefferson and Jonathan talked in whispers huddled together so I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I stood in a corner, trying my best to be invisible. Eventually they stopped talking and Mr. Jefferson looked at me. I straightened my posture and squared my shoulders, holding my head a little taller.

“Are you smart, girl?” Mr. Jefferson asked.

“I ain’t dumb.” I answered, trying my best at a southern accent but failing horribly.

“Are you trustworthy?” Mr. Jefferson asked.

“Yes, sir.” I replied. I said this with slight trepidation because what I was planning to do would most likely breach whatever trust Jefferson had with me.

Mr. Jefferson nodded and wrote something down on some paper. He turned back to me, his eyes still full of mystery.

“I have a friend in town that owns a shop and is need of assistance. I promised him that I would send one of my Negro girls to help him run errands and such. Do you think you could handle that?”

I stared at Mr. Jefferson long and hard, my mind whirling. He was hiring me out. This was both great and horrible news. It was great because it gave me a way to concoct my plan but it was horrible because I knew nothing of the town or how to get anywhere. I figured that I would have to fake it til I made it. It was all I’ve doing anyway.

“Yes sir.” I answered.

“Good. Mr. Oakley here will escort you to town everyday and for the first month show you to your deliveries. I do realize that you are new here and would need assistance. You start tomorrow. Good day to you Willow.” My mind was in a daze. In a week I had went back in time 200 years, got sold in a slave auction and got hired out to a shopkeeper. Everything was happening so fast. I didn’t know why I was sent to 1808, but whether I was ready for it or not, I was about to wade deeper into the turbulent waters of enslaved America.