Forbidden // h.s

Chapter 2

Eleven years earlier

March 11,1826

The bright sun fell in shimmering veils, tracing shadows here and there across the dew-wetted ground. The surrounding fresh air was heavily saturated with the aroma of dirt and grass that was being ploughed in preparation for this coming harvest. The only sounds to be heard, besides the occasional calling of a cow or neigh of a horse, was of my small feet hitting the ground with each jump I took. Every day, I was an explorer, leaving my five year old life in the United States to mentally travel across the globe. The trouble was just decided what and where I wanted to explore. Today, I was deep in a faraway jungle, scowering the area for the jeweled crown that had once belonged to the queen of a local tribe. I carefully leaped from rock to rock to prevent myself from plummeting thousands of feet to certain death. Each and every move I made was of the utmost importance. In the few moments my mind was distracted, my feet land unsteadily, my short arms spinning to prevent myself from falling. My hand reaches up to wipe away imaginary beads of sweat as I balance myself, before beginning my endeavor once again.

Yesterday, I had been in the frozen tundra of Antarctica, running and jumping to escape the crackling ice beneath me. The day before that, I was with my Uncle Derek out west, dashing and running as fast as I could to escape the oncoming sandstorm. All of Uncle Derek's letters that we received were full of stories and adventures he had experienced. He only came down once a year, and that was for Christmas, but he always seemed to pick out the most extravagent gifts.

Many of my father’s friends, well, business partners, as he called them, were absolutely positive that I was filled with demons. They were convinced that I was delusional, but my father informed them that I was just imaginative. Most children my age had outgrown this phase of childhood. Some of the boys from my schoolhouse were already assisting their fathers with keeping their farms and land in order, but not me. I despised dressing up in frilly, silk gowns and joining my mother and her neighbor-friends for afternoon tea, but the other girls my age would jump at the chance. I would much rather assist my father in the fields or go fishing with my brother down at the stream.

“Well, look who it is!”, a familiar friendly voice chimes, bringing my attention back to earth. My eyes glance up to Henry, gravely placing my pointer finger slowly to my lips. His eyes widen, immediately understanding the seriousness of the situation. Henry was a slave on Caveát. Unlike the women who assisted to my mother’s needs inside the house, Henry was one of my father’s many men who worked the back-breaking work of the fields. He had informed me once before that he had a wife and two children, but they had all been separated upon their arrival to the states. Rose, Henry’s wife, was at a plantation home in Charlestown, South Carolina. He had not been informed of his children’s locations.

My feet take another swift jump, landing a few inches away from Henry’s much larger feet. He lets out a quiet laugh as he kneels down beside me, quietly whispering, “Where are we today, Little Miss?” Henry was required to call me ‘Miss Caveát’, but he had shortened the title to ‘Little Miss’. He wore a wide brimmed white hat to shield the sun from his face. He tilted it back as he reaches eye level with me.

“A jungle.”, I answer, keeping my eyes focused on the trail ahead of me, plotting my next move. Eyeing the next patch of grass sprouting out in islands down the dusty dead-end trail, I jump to my next destination, landing with a thud of impact on the ground. My pink, lace-embroidered dress sways around my ankles at the sudden stop. I stomp my feet, frustrated by the elegant clothing my mother demanded me to wear. This was definitely not the apparel of an explorer.

“Well, Mrs. Anne’s makin’ her famous egg biscuits!”, Henry whispers, excitedly, not turning his head to face me, but drifting his eyes my direction, a smile widening his cheeks as he feels my wonder-struck eyes watching him. “I know how much you like-“, he begins, but I interrupt him mid-sentence. “Let’s go!”, I shout, latching onto his big hand, and beginning to drag him down the path towards Mrs. Anne’s cabin, completely abandoning my previous mission.

We arrive moments later at the large circle of cabins that served as the slave’s headquarters. I hid shyly behind Henry’s large hand as many friendly faced greeted me. The men tilted their hats, sending me a smile as they passed to attend their jobs of working in the fields. The women nodded their heads, smiling my way behind baskets of bed linens and dresses. Cheerfulness filled the air this spring morning. People singing and children dancing filled the atmosphere. I loved visiting this place, everyone was always so happy.

“Mrs. Anne! Looks like we got ourselves a visitor for breakfast!”, Henry exclaims upon our arrival. My eyes scan the nearly-barren cabin. A bed, table, some chairs, and small brick oven, were the only pieces of furniture that spaced the room. Mrs. Anne, a larger, middle-aged woman stood in front of the heated oven, stirring a pan of eggs that had been placed over the fire. A white bandana held her hair out of her jolly face. A matching white apron covered her beige and brown dress. Flour and other cooking minerals powdered her elbows and hands, a bit even accumulated on her forehead, inches above her eyebrow.

“I ain’t prepared for a visitor this early in the morning!”, she shouted over the clanking of the pots and pans before turning around to catch eye of me. She sends Henry a look of disgust before turning back to eye me, “Well, she doesn’t count as a visitor! She is always welcome here with us! Goodmornin’, Miss Caveát!” She smiles my way before spinning back on her heels to face the oven again.

“Good morning, Mrs. Anne!”, I reply from behind Henry, peering around carefully from behind his leg. We both make our way to the unsteady wooden table, taking our seats behind a plate full of steaming breakfast food.  

“Eat up, you two.”, Mrs. Anne demands as she takes her seat across the table from Henry and I. “I don’t want to see no leftovers left.” She informs before taking a small, careful sip of her coffee.

After breakfast, Henry and I left for the fields. It was a routine of ours to make a trip to see Dusty, my stallion imported from the plains of the west. The large, lush green hills rolled and continued to roll for acres and acres of Caveat land.

“Henry!”, I shouted, giggling as I dash ahead of him towards a large hay bale centered in the middle of the field. “Watch this!”

“Ugh.. Little miss, I don’t know if that’s the best idea..”, he suggests as an attempt to cease my attempts at climbing the hay bale. He begins to shout at me to get down when I finally get on top. I ignore his shouts, “Look, Henry! I am exploring Mount Everest!”, I shout as loud as my voice would allow, my voice out of breath as I begin to jump up and down in a small victory. My mind took me back to a few days ago when Henry told me about the explorers who had discovered the largest mountain on earth.

“Little miss!”, he shouts, his voice very stern. “Get down from there! You’re going to get yourself hurt!”, he informs, but I don’t listen.  Stubbornness was one of my many character traits, and it was definitely showing in this moment.

In that instant, my foot slips, sending me plummeting to the earth. All air escapes my body on impact, and a sharp, shooting pain electrifies my head before a blanket of black overcomes me. The last thing I remember seeing was Henry.

 Suspiciously, that was also the last time I saw him.

(Hey guys!! I just wanted to get an update in. I hope it was alright!!!! Let me know what you think!!! Now off to work on CGD!!!! Love  you all! Remember to vote and comment!!! ~Annalyce)