“I bought a Negro two days ago and what a vile creature he was. He bit me and yelled despicable words at my boy.”
Henry’s eyes widened. From what he could remember, that wasn’t true.
“He said, he’d attack my family and sacrifice us to his pagan gods.”
A few people gasped. Women covered their mouths and men’s hands turned to fists. Henry remained hidden at the back pew.
“As tough as this may seem, we have to change them. We have to introduce them to Christ. We have to change their vile ways. We’re meant to save their souls.”
The people began talking softly. Henry looked at his father dressed in his black suit, his hair patted down. His eyes were light, almost transparent. Henry wasn’t deceived. He saw the liar in his father’s eyes and trembled not from the cold, but from the anger that burned within the walls of his chest. His father was a preacher and they were in church. He was not only lying to the congregation but was lying in front of God. It was as if he was slapping God in the face as the false testimony was spoken out. Henry knew he shouldn’t have snuck away from the children’s area, but his curiosity always got the better out of him.
He didn’t listen to his father’s pack of lies. He sat in his seat, with his head bowed. His father seemed like a true man of God on the outside but on the inside, he was a cheat and thief who didn’t give God a second thought during the week. It was his duty to be the good son. Speaking out against his father would be the death of him. He prayed God would not strike his father down like he struck down Ananias and Saphirra.
........
“Three I’m back!” Axe yelled as he ran into the hut.
Three was sitting by his straw mat crying.
“Three?”
She turned her head as she heard his voice. He hurried towards her.
“Axe is it really you?” She asked.
Axe nodded. “I’m back.”
Three embraced him. “I’m back.” Axe whispered. “I’m back.”
Something happened. Three began to disappear. “No, no.” Axe began sobbing as Three slowly faded away. “No, no.” Axe crumbled to the ground in misery as she became a part of the air.
He opened his eyes. It was a dream...or was it? It couldn’t be a dream. He had held Three. She felt warm and tangible. Her smile was sincere, her touch was real. Now she was gone.
He was thrust back to reality. He was in a new place. He was back to square one. He was to start his life all over again. He would get a new name and a identity. His past would be forgotten. He would be like a wanderer, roaming the world endlessly.
He meant nothing to his master. He was just profit. No one cared about his feelings. No one even asked him how he felt. He was just a slave.
Axe slowly raised his head and looked around. He was all alone in a darkened room. The raw pain from his back slithered slowly and steadily through his body, finally making his head hammer at the pain.
“I want water.” He tried raising his voice, but what came out was a raspy whisper. No one was there. Axe felt like a child, alone without comfort. He felt trapped in his own body. He longed to break free from his prison cell and escape.
The door creaked open and Axe opened his eyes. “Water .... I want water.” He whispered again.
A deep laughter filled the space of the darkened room. Someone lifted Axe’s head and put a cup to his lips. He felt a surge of gratitude fill his heart as the coolness of the water touched them, but then the cup was taken away from him and the water was thrown to the ground.
Axe was then pulled by his hair and was forced to stand up.
“You’ve been sleeping away while the rest of the Negroes have been doing their job.” Axe was slapped on the face. “It’s time to get off your backside and start working.”
He was thrown to the floor. This cannot be happening. He thought as a shirt was thrown at him.
“Put it on!!” The man barked.
Axe winced as the soft material came in contact with the cuts on his back. He was forced out of the hut and into the cotton field. He looked up and he saw a large number of men, women and children harvesting cotton. Their skin was darker than his own from toiling under the sun. Some glanced at him for a brief moment, their eyes full of sympathy before the crackling of the overseer’s whip sent them back to work.
Axe gazed at the object he had come to hate and love: the whip. He loved the whip when it caused his fellow man who spoke badly of his family pain, but he hated it when it destroyed his mind, body and soul.
A satchel was given to Axe and he was ordered to start picking cotton. He had no choice but to obey.
........
Henry watched the flames flicker softly. He shifted closely as he watched their movement. The flames were dancing together, moving in a fast rhythm. Together they were a team, moving and working together.
His father walked into the room.
“Henry what are you doing?” George asked.
Henry didn’t reply. George touched Henry’s shoulder and Henry turned to him.
“Father”
George tilted his head.
“Why-” Henry wanted to ask but he couldn’t force the words out of his mouth.
“What is it son?” George sat next to Henry.
“Why did you lie?”
George looked at Henry for a moment and then laughed ruffling Henry’s hair “I didn’t lie. It is my duty to the church and God. It’s my responsibility to protect God’s chosen ones.”
“Why do we need to be protected?” Henry asked. He could sense a mystery in the conversation, just like one of the books he read of a boy about his age, trying to solve the mystery of the message in a bottle.
“One day you’ll understand.” With that, George left his son, sitting by the fireplace bewildered by his behaviour.
Henry’s heart sank. He had been close to finding the answer to the mystery... but his father wouldn’t tell him.
Henry went to bed that night astounded by what his father said. Why did the church need protection? Maybe someone was trying to destroy the church? Maybe God was planning to flood the earth again? Henry shook his head. God wouldn’t destroy the world. He had made a covenant with Noah that no event like the flood would ever happen again. Henry shook his head. Maybe someone was trying to overthrow the church.
........
Axe collapsed on the straw mattress that night. His back burned and his head throbbed non-stop.
“God why me?” He asked. There wasn’t an answer, just the endless silence.
He didn’t sleep much that night, tossing and turning. Was this what is life was meant for? Was he meant to live in his nightmare and not be able to do anything about it? A slave had told him it was his destiny, being a slave. Axe did not want that. He was sick of everything; his life, the torture and the slavery. He wanted change. He wanted to prove to the world something could be done. Both Negroes and whites were the same in God’s eyes. he told himself that one day he’d somehow make a difference.
His eyes opened as the ringing of a bell filled the air. People began rising from their slumber and started getting dressed for the new day ahead of them. To Axe, it was the new page of his nightmare. He was given a piece of stale bread with some water. He managed to swallow the bread, dosing it with water.
He walked outside in a line with other slaves, ready to start his day. He grabbed a satchel from one of the hangers and started picking cotton. He couldn’t see the overseer’s because it was dark, but he could hear the crack of their whips. It was a way to terrify the slaves to working. No one wanted to be whipped.
Axe began working, his hands roaming the cotton plant trying to feel the soft texture of the cotton. He’d flinch as some thorns would prick his fingers. He didn’t dare make a sound. No one spoke.
It was still dark when Henry slipped out of bed that morning to sneak into the small attic to watch the sunrise. He lit a candle and took a warm coat from his trunk. The door creaked when he slowly opened it. Henry halted and prayed no one heard it.
He waited for a while before proceeding to climb the stairs leading into the attic. As he took each step, he looked around making sure he wasn’t being followed.
He placed the candle on the ground when he arrived in the attic and sat cross legged on the dusty floor near the arch-shaped window. He waited patiently until he saw the big fiery ball emerge from the earth.
He watched in amazement as the sun slowly ascended into the sky, making the cloak of black shades of red, orange and pink. He touched the window wishing he was outside Maybe just maybe he would be able to touch the sun if he tried hard enough.
The candle’s flame stopped flickering and Henry knew it was time to return to his chamber before his presence was missed for prayer.
As he made his way to his room he saw Yulana in the kitchen kneading some dough. Her voice was deep and haunting, as if she was singing for the dead. He cautiously made his way towards her trying to be as quiet as possible.
“Yulana” He said softly. She stopped singing and turned around to find him in his night clothes and formal coat.
“Young master, what are you doing so early in the morning?” She asked as she dried her hands on a cloth.
Henry eyed her suspiciously “Can you keep a secret?”
Yulana shrugged. “That depends on you young master.” She smiled. Henry loved her smile. Henry beamed back at her. He knew he could trust her. He moved closer to and motioned for her to bend down. She bent down and he whispered in her ear. “I went to the attic to watch the sunrise.”
Yulana grinned. “No one is going to know anything about your little secret.”
“Oh thank you Yulana.” Before she knew what was happening, Henry wrapped his hands around her waist and kissed her old wrinkled cheeks. “I knew I could trust you.”