The Prodigy Slave, Book Two: The Old World: (Revised Edition 2020)

by Londyn Skye

  “Selfish?! If I hadn’t lied, my fatha’ would’ve shot you dead right there in the back halls of Winta’ Garden!”

  “THEN YOU SHOULD’VE LET ’EM SHOOT ME!” she screamed, slinging the basket of eggs against the wall.

  “You don’t mean that!”

  “I’d ratha’ be dead than be back here! And I mean that with every fiber of my bein’!”

  James was too stunned by her words to say anything at first. “Lily, please don’t say things like that. If you die, I die … don’t you unda’stand that?” he explained, his stomach churning at the thought of her death.

  “To hell with you and your pathetic little love lines! I ain’t buyin’ what you’re sellin’ this time! So, stop pretendin’ like you give a damn about me! It ain’t nothin’ you can say that’ll convince me that you didn’t have all this planned from the start. How else did your fatha’ know we’s in Manhattan, huh?”

  “Believe me, I wanna know the answa’ to that too!” James yelled after his frustration returned.

  “I know the damn answa’! I’m lookin’ right at it! Elijah was right! This was your plan from the start! To use me! You was usin’ me in every way you could get away with! For Money! For control! For powa’! Hell, even for my body! I ain’t eva’ truly mean anything to you! I was nothin’ more than a means to your wealth, payin’ yo’ daddy’s damn debts, and relievin’ your sexual urges!”

  James’s mouth gaped open. “Lily, you know goddamn well that ain’t true!”

  “The only truth I know is that all ‘a this was a mistake! Trustin’ you was my first damn mistake! Leavin’ here was a mistake! The symphony was a mistake! We were a mistake! This damn baby was a mistake! Everything was one! big! damn! mistake!”

  Silence.

  James felt like that sledgehammer had leveled him in the stomach again, but ten times harder than in the kitchen. However, he had nowhere to sit this time when his knees became weak. In Lily’s entire tirade, only one word stood out to him. “Baby?” he whispered. “Wh-what baby?” he asked, trying his best to keep his legs from giving out.

  Lily’s eyes drifted away from him and she sheepishly turned her head, trying to hide her guilt-ridden face. She stood there looking like a misbehaving puppy who had just been caught in the midst of its mischievous behavior.

  “Y-you’re carryin’ my baby?”

  Silence.

  James had been very strict with all other women when it came to the matter of protecting them from conceiving. But from day one, he consciously refused to do the same with Lily; a child was something that he had always wanted with her. Lily’s fame had led to nearly a year of preferential treatment, causing him to feel that they would be exempt from society’s rules. After breathing the rare air of a celebrity, he felt they would be drifting high above any negative consequences had they conceived a child together. He had foolishly convinced himself that they would be an anomaly in a world that punished and shunned interracial couples and the children they created. Even without the side effects of fame, James already would have found it hard to resist the chance to fulfill the dream of having a family with the woman he was madly in love with. Their fantasy life, however, had ensured that it would be impossible for him to refrain. And so, after the shock subsided, James was suddenly flooded with pure joy over the news that his lifelong dream had just come true. The same could not be said for Lily, however. She folded her arms across her chest, turned around, and refused to answer or look at the father of her unborn child, after accidentally making him privy to its existence.

  James walked over and gently turned Lily around to face him. “When were you gonna tell me?” he asked, his tone much softer now. He simply could not bring himself to raise his voice at her anymore after learning of her condition. The fact that Lily would not look him in the eyes answered the question for him. “You weren’t … were you?”

  Still, Lily refused to speak.

  With heartwarming thoughts of his child drifting in his head, James continued to speak to Lily with the utmost softness in his tone. “Lily, I know this isn’t the best situation but everything’s gonna be all right. You, me, and our baby, we’ll be all right. I-I’ll find a way to take care of us all. We can make this work.”

  “Oh really? And what you think we gon’ do, huh?” she finally bit back. “Go strollin’ hand and hand down the road, smilin’, while we pushin’ our baby in a buggy, like we livin’ in some kinda fairytale?” she asked in a condescending tone. “I’m a slave or have you forgotten that? And yo’ baby … yo’ own flesh and blood … ain’t gon’ be nothin’ but a slave too! It don’t matta’ how pale or blue eyed this damn baby is, the worl’ ain’t eva’ gonna see yo’ child as nothin’ but a nigga’! Only worthy ‘a workin’ out there in them fields pickin’ cotton all day ’til his finga’s are bleedin’! So, if you think I’m s’pposed to be happy about havin’ this baby, you done gone and lost yo’ damn mind!”

  “Lily…”

  “I didn’t botha’ tellin’ you ’cause I ain’t havin’ this damn baby! Afta’ what my fatha’ did to me, I swore I wouldn’t bring no children into this world! EVA’!”

  James reached out to touch her, but she shifted her shoulder away. “Lily, please don’t say that? I’m beggin’ you not to hurt my baby,” he said, choking up at the thought of such a thing. “P-please? I’ll find a way to make this right.”

  “Trust me, I already plan on makin’ it right!”

  “Lily, I know you’re upset, b-but please don’t do this!” His hands were visibly shaking as he reached out to touch her on the shoulder, attempting to calm her down. “I’m beggin’ you,” he pleaded, his voice trembling. “Please?”

  “I hate you!” she yelled, shrugging his hand off her again. “And it ain’t no way in hell I’m havin’ yo’ damn baby!” She turned to walk away.

  James grabbed her arm again and turned her around, but this time with more force as her words began to take a serious toll on him. “Lily! You’re just sayin’ these things because you’re angry!”

  “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” she yelled, forcefully throwing his hand off her. She then put a finger in his face. “I don’t want you! Or yo’ damn baby!” she said through gritted teeth before turning and storming out of the barn.

  “LILY!”

  She never bothered to turn back around.

  “Goddamn it!” James yelled, kicking a pile of nearby hay in a futile attempt to release his frustrations.

  Chapter Ten

  Slave Code

  Article V Section VII

  Any white man that shall beget any Negro or mulatto woman with child whether free or servant woman, shall serve a sentence of seven years in prison or become a servant for seven years.

  James stood staring out the window of Dr. Gideon Whitfield’s medical practice at the town he did not feel he fit into. With Jesse having confiscated and hidden all of Lily’s money, James took Gideon up on his offer to work in his clinic, wanting to earn enough money to make his escape with Lily without fear of how he would feed, clothe, and house his new family. Gideon was still holding on to hope that James would be his successor, but that was the furthest thing from James’s mind. All he wanted was money. He wanted it fast. And he wanted to get Lily out of Fayetteville even faster.

  His first day on the job and James had already dealt with a case of poison ivy, put stitches in a forehead and a chin, and reset the bone in a broken arm. Every case was a rambunctious little boy turning a typical day into an atypically busy day for Gideon’s medical practice. Just when it seemed that all was settling down, yet another little boy in Fayetteville was intent on turning the day upside-down. As James stood in the window thinking about Lily, he watched a fellow soon-to-be first-time father dash into their clinic after jumping down out of his wagon in a rush. After the urgency in the man’s rapid-fire explanation, Gideon and James quickly locked the doors to the clinic and headed out to his plantation. James was the first one through the front door of the man’s home. He
did not need directions to the emergency. He simply followed the sounds of groaning coming from an upstairs bedroom. That’s where James quickly found the man’s wife sweating, writhing in pain, and breathing hard. Her terrified husband lingered in the hallway, begging for him to help her. Half an hour later, instead of his wife, the young husband heard the cries of his baby.

  “You got yourself a boy, Mrs. Johnson,” James told the new mother while holding onto her son. Gideon cut the cord and continued tending to Mrs. Johnson’s needs while James carried the baby over to a towel, examined him, cleaned him up, and swaddled him in a blanket. He picked up the newest member of the Johnson family when he was finished and held the little boy close to his chest. As he gazed at the baby, James suddenly forgot that there was an eager mother behind him, waiting to hold her new son. He was far too busy imagining what it would be like to hold his own baby.

  All day long, he had dealt with worried parents comforting their injured little boys with love … together. They had walked into Gideon’s clinic without a second thought about the fact that they were free to do so. For those Caucasian parents there was not an ounce of fear that they would be shunned or jailed because of the child they had created together. In their world, the notion of such a thing was completely preposterous. In James’s world, however, he was beginning to face the reality that the baby he had yet to meet, but already loved beyond measure, would not have that sort of freedom. Nor would it have two parents who could walk freely into a clinic and openly express their worry over its ailments … together.

  James was beginning to accept that Lily was right. His own flesh and blood would be nothing but a worthless Negro in the eyes of society. It would not be born into a community that rallied around their newborn by bringing it gifts, like they would with the child he currently held. If anything, the only person to show up after his baby’s birth would be a sheriff, offering a pair of handcuffs for James, and a trip to an auctioneer for his baby.

  The fact that fear and worry would likely trump the elation of welcoming his child into the world stung James deeply as he stood there lost in thought, cradling Mrs. Johnson’s baby. When the baby wiggled slightly and yawned, James finally came back to the reality of his surroundings. He caressed the little boy’s hair and turned toward his waiting mother. The smile and joyful tears he saw in her eyes, he feared would never be expressions on Lily’s face the day she gave birth. He could not imagine Lily excitedly extending her arms, eager to hold their firstborn, the way Mrs. Johnson currently was. James laid the baby in his mother’s arms, and Mr. Johnson walked into the room to fawn over the gift his wife had given him. James then took a step back and looked at the scene with a great deal of envy.

  With all well, he and Gideon gathered their supplies and made their way out of the average sized home. Again, as James departed, he noted the normalcy of it all: a young couple living in a house with plenty of rooms to fill with children throughout the years. Because of his current life circumstances, he was now extremely aware that the Johnson’s lives were only “normal” because of the special privileges granted to their race. James placed his medical bag into the back of the wagon, climbed up on the seat, took the reins, and turned to stare at the young couple’s home again. I wonder if they realize how fortunate they truly are? he thought to himself before snapping the reins.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Gideon noted as they rode along for a while in silence. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” James lied. “That’s the fifth baby I’ve delivered. I’m just sittin’ here wonderin’ if watchin’ a life come into the world will eva’ stop bein’ so miraculous to me.”

  “I’ve delivered fifty-eight children ova’ the years. I still rememba’ the details of every last one of ’em like it was yesterday. You were miracle numba’ seventeen. Your brotha’s seemed like they were hell-bent on torturin’ your poor motha’ for as long as humanly possible on their way out,” he joked.

  J.R. and Jacob had tortured their mother until the day she left the world, so James was not surprised at all by the news that they had even tortured her on their way into it.

  “You, on the otha’ hand,” Gideon continued. “You were easy on your mama. You popped out the moment I got to the house. One push and there you were. You weren’t a hefty weight like ya’ brotha’s eitha’. In fact, for a full-term baby, you’s the puniest little thing I’d eva’ seen, but ya’ had more hair on ya’ head than a grown man,” he laughed. “Trust me, every birth will always be a miracle to ya’, and you’ll neva’ forget a single solitary detail, no matta’ how many there are.” Gideon suddenly smiled. “But just wait until you have your own one day.” He wagged his finger at James. “It’ll feel like a miracle ten-fold. And don’t fool y’urself into thinkin’ you’ll be able to maintain your doctorly wits about ya’! I promise ya’, it’s gonna feel like the room is spinnin’. The moment you hear your baby cryin’ and they lay ’em in ya’ arms, you’ll experience emotions you didn’t think a man eva’ had. Hell, if I just think about the day Brandon was born for more than thirty seconds at a time, I start to tear up.”

  James went silent. Gideon had no idea how much his words had hit home with him. His mind drifted back to the child Lily was carrying, and he began to pray that he would be free to openly experience the emotions Gideon was speaking of. He prayed that the money he earned would be enough to get Lily out of Fayetteville before she was due to give birth. He prayed that Lily would experience the same wonderful emotions as Mrs. Johnson. He wanted nothing more than to see Lily’s smile, her joyous tears, and her arms outstretched, overly eager to hold their baby just like Mrs. Johnson. He prayed even harder, thereafter, that Lily would not rid herself of their baby altogether. But if James currently knew what Lily was mulling over in her mind, he might start to believe his prayers were too little, way too late.

  Per usual, Lily lay curled up in the fetal position at the end of a long day of chores. Oddly, she was thinking about her father, Levi Collins. “Masta’ Lee,” she remembered all the slaves calling him. She remembered that he was quiet, hard-working, and disciplined, and that he seemed to be strict but loving toward his sons. Lily also did not recall Levi ever being mean to his slaves, beating, whipping, or even disrespecting them. In fact, she never once perceived him as a threat or the sort of man who would intentionally hurt anyone, especially her.

  When Griff began calling her “Little Flower,” it unburied a faint interaction Lily once had with her father near an apple tree when she was a toddler. She recalled the moment with fondness, but she was not certain if that moment was real or just a dream. In more solidified memories, Lily recalled that Levi had always been especially kind and gentle toward her when giving her small tasks to do around the farm. She still remembered the light-hearted tone in his voice, the ever-present smile on his face, and the way his eyes seemed to light up while he gazed at her. She remembered that Levi would never dismiss her to go off and do the chore he had assigned until she graced him with a return smile, even tickling her neck on occasion to get a laugh. “All right, go on,” he would then say, only after he was warmed by the sound of her sweet laughter. Even now, Lily still recalled skipping away to do her duties, feeling like she was the most beautiful little girl in the world in Levi’s eyes, simply by the way he gazed at her in those moments.

  That tradition with her father made the day he sold her even more of a shock. “Daddy?” Lily had said while tearfully gazing at Levi as he shackled her legs in Jesse’s wagon. That single word was meant to question how it was humanly possible that a man, who had been so kind to her, could suddenly do something so horrific. For the first time ever, though, Levi did nothing but glare at Lily in a way that made her feel like the most ugly, worthless individual he had ever laid eyes on.

  The drastic shift in Levi’s behavior clearly proved to Lily how clouded her judgement was, much like she was now realizing it seemed to be with James. It made her further continue to draw parallels between both men. Levi, much like Jame
s, was relatively quiet and seemed like the most harmless, warm, even-keeled man Lily had ever known. Both men seemed to go above and beyond in small meaningful ways to see Lily smile, but went to even greater lengths to make her completely incapable of ever smiling again. It made her feel as if they enjoyed the cruel game of earning her trust, building her up, and making her vulnerable enough to permanently destroy her happiness.

  Maya never spoke of the way Lily was conceived. But now, Lily wondered if perhaps Levi had emotionally swindled her mother, doing and saying whatever was necessary to enjoy Maya’s body while simultaneously ruining her life with an unintended pregnancy. Such a thing seemed yet another parallel to James as well. Unlike James, however, Lily had to consider the possibility that Levi had forced himself on her mother, leaving her to give birth to a living, breathing reminder of his sickening act. The thought of such a thing immediately ignited Lily’s tears. She sobbed for what her mother may have suffered through while mentally kicking herself for ignoring the valuable lesson her father had taught her about how quickly white men were willing to turn on slaves for their own personal gain, be it financial, emotional, or sexual satisfaction … and sometimes all three.

  Lily could only speculate about the way she was conceived. But the memories of Levi left no doubt in her mind that never seeing the light of day would be far less torturous for her baby than a lifetime of being subjected to the unsuspecting, cold-blooded acts of its father, and worse yet … its grandfather.

  Chapter Eleven

  Slave Code

  Article I Section VI

  Be it enacted, that any person whatsoever, who shall hereafter teach or cause any slave or slaves to be taught to read or write, or shall use or employ any slave as a scribe, in any manner of writing whatsoever, shall for every such offense, forfeit the sum of one hundred pounds, current money.