Chapter Seven
Rose moved gracefully down the dirt road toward the slave quarters, whistling quietly to herself as she walked. Sunday nights were her favorite time of the week. After six long days under the watchful eye of Master and Mistress Cromwell, it was good to have a free night. Gazing around, she took a deep breath. The sun had just started to dip behind the towering oaks lining the road she now walked on. The crystal clear air seemed to shimmer with the golden glow the sun was leaving in its wake. The sky, still a brilliant blue, was beginning to take on the purplish hues of dusk. The evening swirled around her with all its delicious freshness as she strode the last few yards to her mama’s house.
“Hello, Mama.” Rose smiled as she moved forward to plant a soft kiss on Sarah’s wrinkled, leathery skin. She peered into her eyes until, satisfied with what she saw, she stepped back. She was always afraid of what she would find. Her mama was old. At fifty, she had already lived far beyond the average lifespan of a slave. Rose didn’t know what she would do when her mama went home “ta be wid de Lawd,” as Sarah would put it. Her mama was her rock.
Sarah returned her smile and reached up to pat Rose’s cheek. “We be havin’ comp’ny t’night.”
Rose nodded and settled down on one of three crude chairs in Sarah’s tiny clapboard cabin. She wasn’t surprised. Sarah was known as the whole slave quarters’ mama. She was too old to work the fields anymore. Every day, when the men and women departed to work the tobacco, they left their children in a central area of the quarters. Sarah’s job was to watch over and supervise the chilun, as she called them. The children adored her, and the other slaves had learned to respect the old woman.
“Who’s coming, Mama?”
“His name be Moses. He be one o’ de marse’s new ones.” Sarah turned back to poke the glowing coals baking her sweet potatoes. “He be needin’ a friend t’night.”
Again Rose just nodded. “What can I do to help, Mama?” She asked every time. She knew the answer by heart.
“Not a thin’. I have everythin’ ready. Just waitin’ for these taters to be done cookin’.”
“I brought you something, Mama.” Rose reached into the deep pocket of her brightly colored calico dress and pulled out a carefully folded linen napkin. She pulled the corners back to reveal half a dozen freshly baked rolls. Laying them out on the rough table, she dug into the other pocket. “Miss Carrie sent these to you. She said to tell you she hopes you’re doing well.” Her second digging movement brought forth a small jar of plum preserves. She smiled and deposited it next to the rolls. Everyone knew how much her mama loved rolls and preserves.
“Bless her.” Sarah’s response was quick and fervent. “She be a good chile. You tell her thanky fer me.” Her eyes rested with pleasure on the gifts laid out before her, but she didn’t move from her place at the fire. Moving her hand deftly, she flipped the taters one last time and poked them to pull them from the coals. “Dey be just right now.”
Rose smiled. “Everything is always just right, Mama. There isn’t anyone that can cook like you. I may eat fancier food up at the big house, but it’s never as good as yours.” Rose gave her mama a quick hug and kissed the top of her head tenderly.
Just then a tentative knock came at the door. Rose swung the door open and took a startled step backward. She had never seen anyone the size of the young giant who filled the doorway. For a moment she was speechless, and a little frightened. His huge form blocked out all sunlight trying to squeeze through the door.
“Welcome, Moses. Come on in, boy.”
Still silent, Rose stepped aside to let him enter. Rose watched him carefully as he moved gracefully into the cabin. She liked the tender way he looked at her mama. She recognized the pain in his eyes. She had seen it many times in the faces of new slaves. Moses might be a giant, but his heart was just like theirs. She felt her heart begin to calm.
Sarah took control. “Sit over dere, Moses. Like you to meet my girl. This be Rose.”
Rose smiled gently as Moses nodded his head in her direction. “Howdy.”
“Hello, Moses. It’s good to meet you. I’m glad you could join us for dinner.”
She almost smiled when his friendly gaze faded and was replaced with dark suspicion. Rose understood. She didn’t talk like the rest of the slaves. Her speech distinguished her as being one of the house slaves, and as such, she was open to suspicion. It was not uncommon for house slaves to spy and tell on the lower field slaves.
Sarah read his look and moved closer to put a hand on his shoulder. “Moses come from de Smith place.”
Rose felt compassion, but understood when Moses looked down. He didn’t want their pity.
Sarah’s leathery hand tightened its grip on his shoulder. “She be all right, Moses. She can be trusted.” Her words, soft and tender, hung in the air for just a moment, warring with the fear and doubt that was an everyday part of plantation life.
Rose watched closely as the final bright rays of sun streamed through the still-open door of the cabin. Her mama had the magic that always found a crack in the walls people put around their hearts. She smiled as Moses relaxed under her soothing touch.
It was enough to satisfy Sarah, who clapped her hands together in delight and moved back toward the fire. “Food be ready. I’se sho ‘nuff hungry.”
Moses smiled then—a big smile that lit his face and brought his pain-filled eyes to life. “My mama used to say de same thing. Ever’ time it be time to eat.” For a moment the pain welled in his eyes and cracked his voice.
Rose, watching from the fireplace, didn’t know what to say. She was too busy feeling something…but what? When the big man smiled, it seemed to explode right into her heart. She wanted to make him smile again. She wanted to make him laugh with enough joy to squeeze the unbearable pain from his eyes, and she wanted to cradle his head close to her bosom. Suddenly the room was too small. She could do nothing but stand still as the confusion of feelings swept over her like a sudden spring squall. Where were these feelings coming from? Was she going crazy?
“Rose? You all right, girl?” Sarah’s concerned voice broke in on her thoughts.
Rose shook her head slightly and tried to bring the room back into focus. “I’m fine, Mama.” Forcing herself to smile, she moved to where Sarah was laying supper on the table. “I’m hungry enough to eat half of this myself!”
“Moses might hab sumpin to say bout dat, girl.”
Roses glanced up into the big dark eyes regarding her just as a deep chuckle rumbled from his throat. Confusion gripped her once more as she looked quickly back at the table. What in the world was going on? She had never responded this way to someone before. Taking several deep breaths, she forced herself to regain control. She managed to keep her hand from shaking as she reached for the rolls laid out on the napkin. “Care for some rolls, Moses?” She was relieved that her voice sounded natural.
Gradually the tension in the cabin subsided. The warmth of the fire cast a soft glow over the room and seemed to bring a spell of peace as well. No one spoke as the food rapidly disappeared. Outside, day retreated as night staked its claim. The songs of birds abated and were replaced by a chorus of tree frogs heralding the newly arrived spring. Even when the last crumb of food was gone, no one spoke. All were loath to break the spell.
Moses stared deeply into the flames of the fire. Where was his family? Were they eating tonight? Had his sisters found any friends? Was his mama okay? Not knowing was tearing at his soul, yet he was aware of a strange peace soothing the raw pain. He didn’t understand it, but he welcomed it. He needed it.
“You need ta be careful here, Moses.” Sarah’s gentle voice finally reached out to break the spell. Moses said nothing but turned his dark eyes to question her. “Dat Adams be a mean one.”
Moses nodded. He’d known that from the moment the overseer’s flat gray eyes had fixed on him. “Meanness ain’t nothin’ new ta me.”
Sarah had more to say. “Dis place ain’t like where you come from. Marse Cromwell be a good man. We be slaves, dat be fo sho, but we get treated good. We eat good. There ain’t be no beatings around here either. Least, not many...” Her voice trailed away.
“Then why you be telling me to be careful?”
Sarah stood up to poke the coals of her fire and add another log. She seemed to be choosing her words while her back was turned to them. Finally she swung around. “De overseer at Smith. His name be Joe Adams?”
Moses nodded, sudden understanding making his stomach clinch.
“Our Adams be his brother.”
Moses closed his eyes and groaned.
Roses turned to her mama in protest. “But it’s different here, Mama. They don’t do things the same way the Smith Plantation does. It’s better here.”
Sarah nodded. “Yeah, girl, it be better, but men be men. And pride be a right powerful thing. Joe Adams was a big man, what wid all dem slaves he controlled. He done lost all dat. Lot of people gonna figure it ta be his fault. Blood and hate be a mighty strong link. Dem two brothers share that link. So far the marse has kept Adams here under control. De hate be growing in his heart tho’. One day it gonna spill on over. You can be sho he knows where Moses done come from. Just be careful, boy. You done had too much hate spill out on ya.”
Moses nodded wearily. He was used to hate spilling out into his life. He had known little else, and he certainly didn’t know what he could do to stop it. It was just part of being a slave. It would never change.
“There has to be a way to make sure nothing happens, Mama. I can talk to Miss Carrie. We’ll figure out something.” Rose’s voice held a hint of panic.
“Miss Carrie ain’t found her own self ‘nuff to take on de likes of Adams. Someday, if I don’t miss my guess, she will. But she ain’t ready yet.” She turned to Moses. “You just be careful. Ya needed to know.”
Somber silence filled the room until Rose began to tell him about life on the plantation. He pushed aside thoughts of Adams and listened closely. The more he knew, the easier it would be to adjust to his new existence.
It was almost time to put a new log on the fire when Moses broke into her recital. “You don’t talk like de rest of us. Don’t much talk like a house servant neither.”
Rose shook her head. “I don’t guess I do.” She hesitated. “I can read and write.”
Moses couldn’t hide his surprise. “But...but...dat be—” He stopped, not sure how to continue.
“Illegal?” Rose asked with a smile.
“Well, ain’t it?”
“Yes.” Rose allowed the silence to linger for a moment and then leaned forward to talk in a conspiratorial tone. “I learned with Miss Carrie. The marse thought I quit learning a long time ago. I still feel like I’ve just begun.” The glow in her eyes was not a mere reflection of the fire. Moses watched as her heart and soul came to life, aflame with the heat of her passion. “It didn’t always used to be illegal, Moses. There was a time when most slave owners made sure their slaves could read and write.” Rose noted the look of disbelief on Moses’ face. “It’s true! It all stopped, though, when the North started sending down literature about setting us free. The white people were afraid that if all of us started reading that material, we would all run away or fight for our freedom. So they made it against the law to teach your slaves how to read and write. And they made it against the law for slaves to possess anything written.”
Moses felt a bit of admiration, but he shrugged. “So what? Reading and writing ain’t gonna do nothin’ fer me. I ain’t never gonna be nothin’ but a slave. What reason I got to learn dat stuff?”
“You don’t always have to be a slave, Moses.”
Moses stared at her, wondering if she wasn’t quite right in her mind. “What you be talkin’ bout, girl?”
Silence filled the cabin as Rose hesitated. Was it his imagination or did he see fear in her eyes? The silence stretched into the deep corners of the cabin. Finally, Rose looked up at her mama. The calm, steady gaze and gentle nod was all she seemed to need.
“I have a school, Moses. A small school that meets secretly on Sunday nights. I can teach you how to read and write.”
“What fer? Why do I need to know that stuff fer? You ain’t answered dat question yet.”
Rose hesitated again. “I can’t answer that question yet, Moses. I trust you enough to tell you about the school. You’re going to have to trust me when I say you don’t always have to be a slave. When that day comes, you’re going to have to be ready. Being able to read and write will mean everything to you.”
Moses stared into her flashing eyes. What he saw there reassured him. She wasn’t crazy, and she believed what she was saying. “I don’t know if I can learn dat readin’ and writin’.”
Sarah spoke from the shadows. “I didn’ think I could learn either, boy.”
Moses swung to stare at the wrinkled old lady in wonder. “You know how ta read and write?”
The light in her eyes was answer enough. Sarah rose from her chair, moved to a shelf by her bed, and reached up into the shadows. She pulled down a large book and made her way back to the fire. Then, laying her find on the table, she added two more logs to the fire. She settled back into her chair and waited until the crackling flames added new light to the cabin. Only then did she reach for the book and break the silence. “I learned ta read just for this. I still don’t talk good, but I sho ‘nuff can read.”
Moses watched as Sarah picked up the large book and leafed through the pages. Finally she found what she was looking for.
Sarah’s soothing voice vibrated through the cabin as she read. “‘Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, for thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.’ ”
Lovingly, Sarah closed the book and fixed her eyes on Moses. “I learned to read so I’se could read my Bible.” Triumph and victory resonated in her voice.
“The Bible!” Scorn ripped through the air as Moses struggled with the anger threatening to consume him. “White man’s religion.” For a moment he had the wild thought of ripping the book from the old lady’s hands and throwing it into the fire.
Sarah merely waited while Moses stared fixedly at her. An almost palpable peace reached out to him from the old lady’s face. Her very serenity offered him a place to deposit his anger. Slowly the rage dissipated and control returned. Taking a deep breath, Moses settled back into his chair.
Only then did Sarah speak again. “You’ve had a passel of hurt poured into yer life, boy. You been beat—both inside and out. You got a right ta be angry. But yer hurt been caused by men, Moses. God neber did hurt you. It be men who ripped your heart out. It be men who made you wish nothin’ more den ta die and get it over with. It be men who sold yer family and left you all alone. God neber did that. He wants to help you, Moses. He wants to take all that dark bitterness out o’ yo heart and pour in his mighty love. Ain’t nothin’ can take God from you, Moses.”
Moses had heard all he could take. Even the mention of God made his blood boil.
Sarah had time for one more statement. “That dark bitterness ain’t gonna hurt no one but you, Moses. One day it will eat all dat’s left o’ your heart. Then you won’t be a man anymore. You be just a shell.”
Moses struggled to fight the fury rising in his throat. If she only knew. Suddenly, it was important she did know. Only then would she understand. He jumped up from his chair and ripped off the plain muslin shirt covering his massive chest and back.
“Don’t talk to me ‘bout de white man’s religion. This is what it do ta niggers,” he cried.
Silence filled the tiny cabin as the crackling flames illuminated the crisscross of swollen scars and welts turning his back into a dried mud flat.
Moses continued, keeping his voice low and controlled. “My first master did dis ta me. I was eleven years old. I had just watched my daddy be hanged in de woods after trying ta run ta freedom. They caught him, brung him back, and hanged him from a tree while I be watching. Dey told him he would die the way an animal deserved to die. Then they came after the rest of us. My mama was waitin’. She knew it wouldn’t do no good ta run. She had to watch while all of us—my sisters, too—were strapped to the whippin’ post. Den it was her turn. All of us had to watch while they beat my mama. She almost died dat day. I’m sho she wished she had.”
Tears glistened in Sarah’s shining eyes. Rose wept quietly.
Moses stared into the fire. “When they were done, they told us they’d done it for our own good. That the only way fer us ta make it ta heaven was to repent of our sins. They were helpin’ us repent. If they punished us, God wouldn’t have to punish us so much when it be his turn. One of my sisters died. Carmen was too little… She couldn’t take it.” His voice broke into a sob and his mighty shoulders slumped in the face of the terrible memory. Broken, Moses sank into his chair.
Sarah was immediately at his side. Her work-worn hand gently stroked his bowed head. Time seemed to stand still as the pain of past generations marched through the cabin. It was as if the voices of all slaves who had ever lived and suffered were crying to be heard in Moses’ words.
Softly, Sarah began to speak. “Thirty years ago, Africa was my home. I had a fine man and two little girl chilun. One day our village was attacked by another tribe. My man and chilun were killed in the fightin’. All in the village were killed ‘cept the women. They tied leather thongs ‘round our necks and connected us ta each other in long lines. We left what remained of our village and marched through the jungle for a lot of days. I lost track of time. We barely had food and water to keep us alive. Beatin’s were common...”
Moses looked up as Sarah took a breath. “Why?”
Sarah shook her head and continued. “Big boats was waitin’ fer us, but first we had to pass de inspection. We had heard rumors in our village about white men stealing people away, but we didn’t think it could be true. We figured we be safe in our village…” Her voice caught with the memory. “There were so many of us dere dat day. We all had to strip naked and be examined—every part of us. Some didn’t pass dat ‘spection. Dey were de lucky ones. I made it. Before dey loaded us on dem big boats, dey put a brand on us. We all had dem brands—to let folks know someone owned us now.”
Sarah’s voice deepened. “A lot of us didn’t make it over on the boat. Dem men on the ship figured we would try to get free so all of us got put in the bottom of the ship. There weren’t much air and even less food and water. They had to carry the dead out ever’ morning. There was hardly room to sit. Never did lie down for that whole trip across the big ocean.” Sarah’s voice wavered again as she relived the memories. “Some people killed themselves. One woman had her baby on dat boat. Didn’t want her baby to live through dat. When no one was watchin’, she jumped overboard with her baby and drowned herself. Right then, I was sho wishing it could have been me.”
Moses gazed into the old woman’s face, feeling her pain nearly as strongly as he felt his own.
Sarah forged on. “I didn’t want to live. I figured if I didn’t eat, den I could be one of those dey carried out of the bottom in the morning. Dey figured out what I was doin’, though. One of the men brung a shovel with hot coals on it. Another one held me while the hot coals were placed right up to my mouth. My lips blistered right up. Den dat man with the shovel, he tell me dat if I don’t eat, I’m going to have to swallow dem coals. I ate. And just kept hoping I would die. The pain all around was more than I could bear, and I kept seeing pictures in my head of my man and chilun. I thought I would go plum crazy.”
The fire crackling in the cabin was the only sound. Even the frogs had ceased their croaking as if to honor her pain. “Dat big boat finally crossed the water and dumped us here in Virginia. I was scared bad, but firm ground felt mighty good under my feet. If I was goin’ to have to live, I wanted to be off dat boat. Marse Cromwell bought me dat day. Well, Marse Cromwell’s daddy, that is. Along with a whole passel of others. I be the only one left o’ dat group.” Sarah sighed and continued. “I worked the tobacco fields along with ever’body else. There weren’t no more beatin’s and we had ‘nuff to eat. After hearing some o’ the stories from surroundin’ plantations, I decided I was pretty good off.
“Then Marse Cromwell bought a slave named John.” Sarah’s face softened with the memory. “Me and John fell in love and got married after just a few months. It wasn’t long after dat Rose came along. I thought I had me a new life. Not like the old one, but good just the same.” Sarah breathed in deeply to control her tears. “Rose was a bitty baby when Marse Cromwell sold John at some auction in Richmond. I never even found out where he be sent. One day he was dere—my fine man—the next he was gone. I gave up all hope dat day. There didn’t seem to be no end to the bad things waiting to happen in my life. I became a bitter, angry woman. Didn’t see no reason to live.”
Silence stretched into the cabin.
“What happened?” Moses couldn’t keep from asking.
“I remembered that mama aboard the boat. How she had jumped overboard to free her and her baby. I waited till late one night, got Rose wrapped up in a blanket, and walked down the road till I found de river. I had waded in up to my waist when God stopped me.” Sarah smiled at the look of disbelief on Moses’ face. “I know. I felt the same way you did. God was a bad man made up by white people to keep us willin’ to be their slaves. I had cursed him over and over, but still, it be him dat stopped me. I couldn’t walk out no further. It was like a giant hand was holding me back. I tried, but I just couldn’t get no further. Rose was cryin’. I was cursin’. Finally, I gave up and turned back around to sit on the shore. It be when I turned around dat de water started glowin’.”
Moses stared as the old woman’s face became radiant with wonder as she relived her experience.
“It was a dark night, but that water begin to glow with a white light. It turned that water into the purtiest blue you ever seen, but only the water right around me. And the water got warm. It was like God was giving me a bath, but the bath wasn’t for my body. It be for my heart. Warm waves of love washed right through me. I don’t know how long I stood there. I never wanted to leave that river. I wanted to feel dat love washin’ through me forever. Finally, the light began to fade, and I walked out o’ dat river a new woman. I knew deep down where no one can’t never take it away that I had been with God. Not the God the white men talk about—I’d been with the real God. He took all my pain and anger, and he traded me back peace. He put a light in my heart dat can’t nobody take away.”
Sarah’s voice faded away, swallowed by the deepening shadows in the room. The logs sputtered and hissed. Long minutes passed as the old woman gave Moses time to take in her words. She wasn’t done, however. “Moses, boy. I hate bein’ a slave, and I hate slavery. But I decided a long time ago dat I weren’t gonna hate the people who make me a slave. I’ll do what I can to change it, but I won’t hate.” Sarah did nothing to hide the vehemence of her words.
Moses looked deeply into her eyes as she continued.
“I want to be free someday, boy, but I want my heart to be free now.” Kneeling down in front of the hulking giant, Sarah wrapped her arms tightly around him. “They can destroy your body, Moses, but only you can let dem destroy your heart and your soul. Dat be your decision.”
The fire had died down to little more than molten ashes when Rose stood and broke the spell. She didn’t know how long the three of them had sat in silence, only that the silence was a good one. Her mama did that to people. Sarah liked to get people to be silent. She said that was the only time their thoughts could be loud enough to be heard over the daily demands of living. Rose could hear her mama’s voice echoing in her mind. You got ta be quiet girl. It be the only way to hear yo’ heart. And yo’ heart be the only thin’ you can trust. God will speak to you in your heart. But ya got to be able to hear it.
Sarah looked up and nodded at Rose. “I know ya got to go, girl. Hope you get a heap of learnin’ done t’night.”
Rose smiled. “Thanks, Mama.” She looked over to see Moses’ eyes fastened on her. “Think about what I said, Moses. If you decide you’d like to be part of our school, just let my mama know. You’re welcome anytime.” Moses nodded, but she couldn’t read his expression. She gave her mama a warm hug and turned toward the door.
Before she could reach it, Moses spoke, his voice barely audible. “I’ll come tonight if that be okay wid you.”