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nine
Sitting on her bed, she ran fingers across the gift given by Miss Mable. At first, she'd cried and then the shock set in. Surely, this had to be a dream. A small stack of bills and coin she'd wrapped in parchment paper, a small little note attached. She'd read it over and over now and still again.
Think of this as a payment owed to you for the many nights you laid underneath him, treated as nothing more than a voiceless enslaved harlot. It took me my whole life of enduring the same before I finally grasped my freedom with both hands. You are not alone. I see you. And I will support you. If you can, take hold of courage for a little while longer.
Mable
Tears welled up in her eyes and she wept, pressing her face against the money. It was more than enough for her, never knowing anything about it...never once having any to call her own. A sweet joy took hold of her and for the longest time she laid there against the parcel, lifting hands with it up in front of her. It was worth something right? All that she'd gone through. All that she'd endured..suffered...lost. Her parents had never known the joy of having, keeping or holding their own money. It being something only thought, assumed and given to white folks. I've got to save it. Lifting up, she neatly wrapped it back up and shoved it underneath her mattress. Getting up, she went to stand in front of her floor length mirror. For a little while yet. Maybe... maybe she could.
***
It was early in the afternoon when she came. He'd just finished cleaning the troughs and feeding the horses. There, she stood in her usual spot eying him. Going to the water pail, he washed his hands and smoothed the hair that had come from his bun back and behind his ears.
"Are you enjoying the view?" He teased, coming to lean against the barrier. She blushed but offered no other word, instead letting her eyes fall onto the horses behind him.
"Do you like them?" Her eyes finally met his again. She appeared nervous, skittish...apprehensive.
"I've...never got on one. They've always scared me." She admit, clutching her hands tightly. He was quiet as she continued, her voice soft.
"When I was a girl, I watched a slave be trampled by one. The beast crushed his legs, his arms and then his head." Letting her gaze drift again, she took the horse into her sight.
"I was always scared. But something about them still... it interests me."
"They are beautiful." He input with a soft friendly smile.
"Yes. Dangerous."
"Friendly and tamed under the right training." He finished, pushing up from the barrier.
