Henry sat on the floor, leaning his back on the cold wall, deep in thought. Yulana was dead. Mary had been killed in cold blood by the child she was meant to serve. Yulana had been hanged, and her head was on hanging on a pole displayed for everyone to see. His father hadn’t cared about what Laura did, instead of rebuking her he had praised her saying killing a Negro wasn’t murder. His mother hadn’t said anything. No one stood up for him.
The door opened and Henry looked up and looked back down again when he noticed his father standing by the door. He shut the door and stood in front of Henry.
“Look at me.” He ordered. Henry looked up at his father. “Killing a Negro isn’t murder.” Henry looked away in anger. “Look at me!” Henry turned to him. “Don’t look away from me when I talk to you.” Henry nodded, gritting his teeth. “Now I don’t want to hear any nonsense from you about murder. I have told you Negros are not like us.” His father sighed. “You shall go and apologize to Laura for your rude behaviour.”
“I shall not.”
George’s his hands slowly curled into fists. Henry knew he wouldn’t hesitate repeating what he did to the Negro four weeks ago to him as well. “Are you also going to hit me as well?”
George’s eyes widened with shock. He quickly uncurled his fists and walk out of Henry’s bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Henry shook with fear. What if his father came back and whipped him like he whipped the Negro woman? What if his father left him outside chained to the posts leaving him to die in the cold brutal night? No. His father would never do that. Henry was sure of that. His father would never hurt him.
He had seen what his father could do. Yulana had told him his father could be brutal but he never thought he could be that brutal. Yes he had snuck into the attic and watched his father flog the Negro and yes he kept a vigil after supper and watched her all night without nodding off to sleep.
Henry curled up into a ball and closed his eyes not caring anymore. His father could do whatever he wanted with him...but it wouldn’t change how he felt about the whole situation.
“God what have I done wrong?” He muttered. “Laura killed old Mary. You commanded us not to kill people and Laura killed her because she refused to dance. Why is it father says when a Negro is killed, it’s not murder?” Henry felt sick to the stomach as he thought about Laura killing Mary. She was a funny woman with the biggest laugh he had ever heard. He had never seen her frown before. She always sang hymns and had a beautiful voice. Henry rolled his eyes and grunted. He would never apologize to Laura. Never.
Henry woke up and freed himself from the position he slept in as golden streaks sunlight glowed brightly from the sky and into his eyes. He turned away from the sunlight, blinking profusely. His body felt stiff and his bones ached as he stretched his arms. He hadn’t planned on falling asleep on the floor.
He stood up and lay on his bed. Feeling restless, he rolled over and stared at the window, thinking of the times he’d stand there looking at the vast land full of cotton with Yulana by his side. As the sun moved direction, a small shadow fell near the window. Henry almost swore it was Yulana standing there because the shadow resembled her silhouette.
The door opened. Henry bolted up in fright ready for what would happen to him. It wasn’t his father, it was Angel. He was carrying a small plate of bread and a cup of water.
“Good morning master.” Axe placed the plate and cup on the small wooden table. Henry wanted to smile and have a conversation with him, but stopped when he remembered the promise he made to himself. He’d stay away from Angel. It would be the only way to keep him safe since every Negro he had formed a friendship with ended up dying. He didn’t think he’d be able to bear it if he lost another friend.
“What’s that?” Henry asked pointing to the bread.
“Why it’s bread master. Your father requested that I bring it to you.” Axe replied, sensing something was wrong. It was only a few weeks ago he and the boy were close friends and now it seemed the boy wanted nothing to do with him. He tried to hide his disappointment and anger. It wasn’t the child’s fault. It was his fault. He was a Negro. The child was a white...the master’s son. The son of the man who called him a Dog. He was nothing more than a toy in the household, a puppet in a sadistic play where happiness and freedom was a distant dream.
“You can go now.” Henry said with a wave of his hand. Axe nodded and left the room. Henry slumped his shoulders as he picked up the plate. The bread was stale. He broke off a small piece and it crumbled under his fingers. He knew it was all part of his punishment. His father couldn’t lay his hands on him, so he had resolved to giving him hard stale bread and water in a bid to teach him a lesson.
Henry placed the bread back on the table and drank the water. His stomach began to rumble and Henry pushed it in to try and silence it. He had heard of women who would wear tight waist straps in an effort to trick their stomachs to think it was full and therefore stop the rumbling. Henry thought about doing it but frowned at the thought of the pain he’d feel when he’d remove the straps.
As he tried not to think of his hunger, Henry retired into his world. He envisioned being Moses standing on a small cliff overlooking the red sea. He imagined having a long beard and a staff in his right hand. It was evening and the dark clouds had already began settling in, in the skies above. He turned when someone tapped his shoulder. It was Aaron, fear written all through his face.
“What is the problem Aaron?” He asked.
Aaron fumbled with the sleeves off his coat stammering “It....It’s....It’s Pha....Pharaoh’s men. They’re after us.”
Henry could feel fear gripping his heart. He took a deep breath and said. “Do not worry Aaron for the Lord is with us.” He then walked towards the people. They were white and shaking with fear.
“Moses what have you done to us?” They asked “Did you bring us out of Egypt to die here? Is this what you wanted?!” Children huddled close to their mothers in fear. The women cowered away as the men began getting furious.
“Peace! Peace!” He called out. “Do not fear for the Lord is with us.”
“Where is God? Where is he?” An old man called out.
“How are we going to get to the other side of the sea?” Another yelled.
“Didn’t we tell you in Egypt to leave us alone and let us serve the Egyptians? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die here in the desert!” One of the elders cried out.
“Pharaoh’s army is getting closer!” A woman shrieked. Some people panicked and began running into the water trying to find a way to escape.
“Moses what do we do?” Miriam asked.
“We wait on God.” He replied and turned to look at the vast sea.
The Lord spoke to him “Raise your staff and stretch your hand over the sea to divide the water so the Israelites can go through the sea on dry ground.”
Henry turned to the people and said “Stand firm and you shall see the deliverance of God.” And with that, he stretched out his staff and the water divided into two by a strong east wind and dry land lay at its feet.
The people cheered and began walking through the dry land. There was a wall of water on their right and left. Some hesitated afraid the gap would close and the water would swallow them up in a whole, but Henry and Aaron urged them forward reassuring them everything would be alright. God was with them. When the last of the Israelites had left the shore, both men began walking onto the dry land. Henry turned around as the sounds of Pharaoh’s chariots grew louder and louder. The pillar of fire had gone and the Egyptians were coming closer.
“Hurry Aaron.” Henry took Aaron’s arm and both of them hurried along the pathway.
“What if they catch up with you? Pharaoh will kill you!” Henry shuddered when he heard the harsh words.
He began to say “The Lord has not given us a spirit of fear but of sound mind.” When he and Aaron got onto the other side, Henry stretched out his staff and the water flowed back and covered the chariots and the horsemen.....
“Henry. Henry.” Henry snapped out of his day dream and turned around when his name was called. He noticed he was standing on his bed and quickly sat down. His eyes widened when he saw his mother. Her beautiful face was now black and blue, covered with bruises.
“Mother what happened to you?” He ran to her.
“I’m fine.” She moved away from him. “I fell down the stairs.” It only took Henry a split second to understand what was going on. She could lie to him but didn’t fool him. His father had hit her. He could see the hand print on her cheek. She sat on the bed and smiled. “I see you have bread to eat.” She pointed to the plate. “Why haven’t you eaten it?”
“It’s hard.” Henry replied as he came closer. He touched her arm and she flinched as she remembered the events that had occurred after Laura was dismissed from the dinner table. She had known George was angry but didn’t know the extent of his anger...
She had retired into her chamber when the door flew open. She didn’t know he was behind her. By the time she sensed his presence it was too late. He hit her and she heard a faint crack as his fist came in contact with her jaw. She fell on the bed and almost passed out from the pain. She struggled to breathe as she was yanked her by the hair and pulled to her feet. He slapped her again.
“This is your entire fault.” He sad through gritted teeth and hit her again. She began to sob. “Be quiet!” He ordered. She couldn’t help but whimper softly. “I said be quiet.” He shook her violently. Her voice became caught in her throat.
“If you had been a good mother none of this would have happened.” He flung her onto the wall. Harriet felt breathless as her body crashed into the rough wall and she crumpled onto the floor. George stood over her. “You let the Negroes get to him you fool. You let them corrupt him.” He pulled her by the neckline of her dress, spat on her and kicked her. That was the final straw. She faded away as her husband’s blows rained down on her like rain. She had woken up still crumpled on the floor just to find blood soaked on the ground. She had lost the child she carried. It had been her third month. She crawled back to her bed and wept. She had no strength left to call for a slave to clean up the mess.
They came to her in the morning and cleaned up the mess but she wouldn’t let them touch her. It was their fault. They were the cause for her trouble. They were the ones who had taken her son away from her.
Harriet sighed. “What were you doing before I came in?”
Henry tilted his head and grinned happily “I imagined I was Moses parting the red sea!!” He made over exaggerated movements with his arms and puffed out his chest.
Harriet burst out laughing. At first she was shocked. It had been a long time since she laughed...not out of mockery; not with pretence but with happiness. She found Henry’s actions entertaining.
The door opened and Harriet froze in fear as she saw George with a whip in his hand.
“George.” She stood up trying to protect Henry. George struck her. She fell to the floor. “George please don’t hurt him. George!!” Henry was thrust back to reality as his father threw him over his shoulder.
“Mother!!” He called out frightened about what his father would do to him. Harriet tried standing up but couldn’t. Her legs refused to move and she just fell back down again.
“George let him go!!”
George didn’t listen. He just stormed out of the room with Henry screaming frantically on his shoulders. The slaves who saw him were horrified. They knew what had happened during supper. The butler had told them everything. Seeing Henry mad with fear stirred their blood until boiling point. They wanted to kill George. They wanted to make him pay but couldn’t do anything. They were just slaves.
George took Henry to the whipping posts and tied his hands in front of him. “No son of mine defies me.” He said as he took the whip from the table. Henry cried out as the first lash was given. The wire platted end cut into his skin drawing blood. “Since you love Negroes, you’ll be treated like one.” He yelled as he whipped the child. Henry kept screaming as the lashes were given out again and again. Tears ran down his cheeks as the pain slithered on his back and body like fire. “You shall apologize to Laura about what you said last night.” George grabbed Henry by the chin. “Do you understand?” He brought his face close to Henry’s. Henry nodded and George’s jaw moved slightly. He then took a pail filled with salt water and splashed it on Henry’s back.
Henry’s howl pierced the plantation. Even the birds felt the tremor of his voice and flew from their nests in large flocks.
George smiled cynically and left Henry to get Laura. Henry trembled in fear. He wanted to keep crying but couldn’t bring himself to do it out of pride.
“God has not given me a spirit of fear. He makes me strong like David and Samson.” He whispered. His lips were cracked and blood trickled down. He could taste some in his mouth.
Laura came out of the house holding George’s hand smiling happily.
“Apologize to your cousin for your insolent behaviour.” George said forcefully.
Henry shook but instantly gathered himself together. “I’m sorry for accusing you of murder.”
“Louder!!” George barked.
Henry jumped and repeated the words louder than before “I’m sorry for accusing you of murder.”
Laura laughed. “It’s fine Henry. I’ll only forgive you if you let me have the doll from Paris.” She said scornfully. Henry nodded. “Good.” She turned to George, nodded and walked away.
George moved closer to Henry and slapped him. “Don’t you dare talk back to me again and don’t you ever talk me about Negroes. If I ever see you befriend one of them I’ll kill you and I’ll kill the Negro.” The warning was clear. George unbound Henry’s hands from the post. Henry collapsed onto the ground from exhaustion and defeat.