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

by Londyn Skye

  Lily turned around as well just to be sure all was clear before she continued. “Please, Corrina, I need this,” she said, wiping away a stray tear. “I’m beggin’ you.”

  “All right,” Corrina replied reluctantly, her heart suddenly racing for agreeing to such a thing. “Tonight. I’ll have it for ya’ befo’ nightfall. I promise.”

  “Thank you,” Lily sniffled. She then turned and walked away.

  Corrina lied. She already had the toxic elixir prepared. She never felt good about mixing it for anybody though. As much as she wanted to, she had not forgotten the number of babies lives that had ended because of a concoction she had mixed with her own two hands. Twelve little lives had not gotten the chance to see the light of day because of her. She had given into previous expectant mothers who were just as desperate as Lily. All of them believed that death was a far better option than their child entering into a life of oppression.

  Every woman Corrina had helped before Lily had been battered and abused in the most disgusting of ways, many before showing the first signs of womanhood. Some of those women feared having daughters who would suffer the same fate. For some, the severe sexual abuse destroyed their compassion and empathy, leading them to view the human lives growing within them as nothing more than an unwanted byproduct of rape. The rest of them simply could not deal with their babies’ births being the ultimate reminder of how they had been tortured so heinously. Corrina empathized with their plights since she, too, was amongst the many abused at her previous plantation. However, before she was willing to help any of the women seeking her assistance, she had tested them in the same way that she was currently testing Lily. She had made them beg for her baby-killing concoction just to see how serious they were about their decision. A few had changed their minds, but most had done exactly what Lily had just done: come to her in tears when they were at their wits end about having to wait any longer to rid themselves of the tiny lives growing within them.

  The problem for Corrina this time, though, was that she could not empathize with Lily in the least. Lily’s story seemed so different from the women she had helped in the past. To Corrina’s knowledge, Lily had not suffered in those horrific ways. Since Lily’s return to the farm, Corrina had witnessed treatment that was quite the polar opposite. She had seen James constantly bringing extra food into Lily’s room. She saw the loving way that James often gazed at Lily and heard the compassion in his voice whenever he spoke to her. She could sense how deeply affected James was over the fact that Lily was submerged in such a desolate state. Corrina had even caught a glimpse of James kissing Lily on the cheek after placing one of his letters by her bedside. All of James’s actions made it hard for Corrina to believe that he would ever force himself on Lily, especially when she considered how close they once were as children. In fact, she felt as though James loved Lily more than any other man she had ever witnessed loving a woman. That fact had Corrina finishing the dishes in tears as unrelenting guilt rolled through her over the simple thought of ending the life of a child who had been conceived out of something so rare and precious for a slave: unconditional altruistic love.

  As Corrina sat slowly scrubbing her pots with silent tears careening down her cheeks, James was saving himself the potential of a tear-inducing migraine by declining Mary Jo’s expected request for dinner at her home after church. Instead, he went to work. He was not required to be in the office on a Sunday, but he felt it provided the perfect excuse to avoid spending an entire day with his “fiancé” grating his nerves or asking for vomit-inducing sexual favors.

  James sat with his feet up on Gideon’s desk, leaning his head back with his eyes closed, his mind replaying Lily’s grand performance from the previous night. When the mental imagery ended, James suddenly opened his eyes. “I would die for her,” he whispered to himself. James was willing to die if that’s what it took for the world to know who Lily Adams was. For the world to see that a Negro woman was capable of such brilliance, he felt had immeasurable value that unquestionably superseded his very own life. But James’s grand dream for Lily also came with the sting of knowing that it would take him years to collect the amount of money needed for her to resume her career on an international level. Money trickled into Gideon’s practice as fast as poor country folk could pay. By the time James got his cut, though, it was barely enough to pay for Lily to live in a bordering city, let alone pay for her to board a cruise ship to another world. With that reality having punched him in the stomach, James suddenly dropped his head into his hands, momentarily wanting to admit defeat. But the preacher’s scripture suddenly rang out loudly in his head: “Do not give up! Your work shall be rewarded!” Those words instantly reinvigorated his determination to do whatever it would take to reward Lily with the life she dreamed of across the sea, especially knowing that it was the only thing that could completely heal all that currently ailed her.

  “My hand! I done cut my goddamn hand clear to the bone!” Duke yelled after bursting through the door of Gideon’s practice with his left hand wrapped in gauze.

  Startled, James sprang from the office chair to help. “Uncle Duke calm down! Lemme have a look!” James turned Duke’s hand over to find blood seeping through the gauze. He immediately ushered him to the back room. James closed the door and turned around to find a switchblade in his face.

  Duke grabbed James by the neck with the hand that he had lied about cutting and jumped straight into the real reason for his visit. “I heard about all the stunts you been pullin’ with y’ur little house nigga’. Seems y’ur daddy thinks y’ur above abidin’ by the Rida’ codes. Maybe he thinks y’ur too smart or too goddamn pretty … who the fuck knows? But I don’t give a damn what he thinks, I ain’t gonna tolerate y’ur bullshit anymore. Since Jesse’s bein’ too much of a pussy to put you in y’ur goddamn place, I guess that leaves me to do his dirty work.” Duke jabbed his knife a little further into the soft area on James’s neck. “Next time you fail to comply with our rules and go flauntin’ that nigga’ onstage, I’m afraid I’ma be forced to disfigure this purty little face ‘a y’urs,” he said, sliding the blade gently down James’s cheek. “Right afta’ I cut that piano-playin’ bitch’s finga’s clean off.”

  James waited for Duke to blink and snatched the knife out of his hands before his eyes could re-open. By the time he blinked again, James had grabbed him by the back of his neck and slammed his face against the wall with all his might. An uncontrollable rage had suddenly erupted from James the very second Duke spoke of harming Lily. Sitting idly by during such threats to Lily’s life had landed her back where she was now. James Adams now had no intention of repeating such cowardice ever again; his current actions were proof. Duke’s threat had awakened the peacefully sleeping inner beast that James had inherited from his father. It had broken free from its chains, rose up out of James, and was now bearing its fangs, intent on unleashing fury on its victim, a fact that Duke’s nose could now attest to.

  “You broke my nose, you sack ‘a shit!” Duke cried out as a stream of blood began to pour from within it.

  James slammed his face on the wall again just for whining about it. He kept a firm grip on the back of Duke’s neck, turned him around, and slammed his face on the exam table nearby. He then spread Duke’s legs apart with his feet and pricked his scrotum through his pants with the switchblade he had snatched. “You eva’ wanna feel the inside of a pussy again?” James asked while holding Duke face down in the pool of blood that had seeped from his nose.

  Duke was too busy writhing in pain to reply. Instead, he tried to shake himself free of the death grip James had on his neck, but to no avail.

  “DO YOU?!” James impatiently yelled, driving the tip of the blade a little deeper and slamming Duke’s face on the table again.

  Duke cried out again in agony. “YEEESS! YEEESS! GODDAMN IT, YOU FUCKER!”

  “I don’t give a fuck who you are, you don’t tell me shit about how to conduct my fuckin’ affairs. We clear?”

 
“Fuck you!”

  James jabbed the blade even further. “Are! We! Clear?!” he yelled, slamming Duke’s face down hard with every word.

  “Alriiight! Alriiight! You son of a bitch!” Duke whined, his quivering voice signaling his impending tears.

  “You must’ve forgotten that I have Jesse Adams’ blood coursin’ through my veins. That oughta make you scared ‘a the monstrous things I’d be capable of doin’ to you.” He dug the blade deep enough into Duke’s scrotum to draw blood this time. After Duke wailed again, James leaned over near his ear. “Threaten me or Lily again, and you’ll be squattin’ to piss like a little bitch for the rest ‘a your useless life.” He yanked Duke up by the hair, shoved him across the room, tossed his switchblade back at him, and spread his arms to welcome him to attack again.

  Duke stared James down and angrily wiped away a tear that escaped from his swelling eyes. Like a coward, he just stood there breathing hard with blood running in streams down into his gritted, brown teeth.

  When Duke did not retaliate, James reached for a clean rag on a shelf next to him and turned his back. “Get the fuck outta my office,” he demanded calmly while cleaning Duke’s blood off the exam table.

  Just like James expected of a coward, Duke took the vulnerable moment to charge at him while his back was turned. James waited for him to close in, spun around, and hit him across the nose with a heavy medical instrument, shattering his already broken nose. Duke’s pain shot through him faster than his brain could register. His knees reflexively gave out by the time he realized he needed to scream. The delayed reaction to the searing pain came piercing through his vocal cords in a high-pitched, girly shrill as he sat on his knees clutching his gushing nose.

  “I said … get the fuck outta my office,” James repeated as he turned around and went back to cleaning the bloody exam table.

  Duke pulled himself up off the floor but undoubtedly left his dignity laying there as he attempted to quickly flee from the building. He tried to run but had to gap his legs apart to keep the pain dangling between them from shooting through his whole body. He slowly made his way outside onto the breezeway, headed for his horse, and was hurried along with a firm boot to the rear. He tumbled down the wooden plank steps out into the dirt and rolled over to find James looming over him from the breezeway. His unorthodox exit stopped every passerby in their tracks. They stared at him in curiosity.

  Duke turned around, revealing his bloody face and swollen eyes to all who stood there. “The fuck’re all ‘a y’all starin’ at?!” He swung his arm in the air toward everyone while he sat perched in the dirt on his aching scrotum. “Get the fuck outta here!” he yelled, his humiliation blatantly obvious.

  As everyone began to pick up pace again, they glanced in James’s direction. James pulled his lowered eyes away from Duke to give a quick sweeping return glare to his bewildered audience before retreating back into the office. He then sat down and let his inner beast fall back into a peaceful slumber. Duke, in turn, began making his trek all the way home, walking spread-eagled alongside his steed to spare his testicles anymore adverse torture.

  James had the misfortune of knowing his stringy-haired, snaggle-toothed, hunchbacked, pseudo uncle his whole life. He knew his type well. Duke always put on a tough guy bravado to cover for the fact that he was just as lily-livered as they came. He was a bragger and a boaster, who never once told a story where he was not the ultimate victor. He typically told the same stories over and over again at family gatherings since he did not have a wide array of victories to choose from. The stories would get wilder, more dangerous, and more outlandish every time he retold them. Those facts left James sitting at his desk mindlessly continuing his paperwork, feeling totally convinced that Duke would be far too humiliated to tell any of the other Ghost Riders about their altercation. The final kick he gave him into the road was to further ensure his embarrassment and the permanent sealing of his boastful lips.

  Oddly, the fight was emotionally cleansing for James and brought on much-needed mental clarity. Along with it came a thought that made him immediately spring from his seat, lock the doors to the office, and swiftly ride away on his horse. He stopped at Gideon’s house to tell him that he would not be at work on Monday and then quickly rode home. The moment he got there, he burst into the back-kitchen door, where he found Corrina putting away the extra skillets she had used to cook for everyone that afternoon. “Corrina!” James called out to her, breathing heavily.

  “Yessa’!” she said, quickly spinning around, startled by the way James had nearly knocked the hinges off the door.

  James looked over her shoulder to see if his father was nearby. “Is my fatha’ home yet?” he asked after catching his breath.

  “No sa’, I ain’t seen ’em all day.”

  “Good. Listen, I’m leavin’ town for a day or so. I need you to keep an eye on Lily. Would you do that for me?”

  “I’ve been keepin’ an eye on ’er since the day she come back here.”

  “For that I thank you.” After entrusting Lily to Corrina’s watchful eyes, James turned to head upstairs to retrieve some of his belongings.

  “Masa’ James!” Corrina called out.

  James stopped and turned around.

  The question Corrina wanted to ask suddenly made her afraid to even turn in his direction. She kept her body turned sideways while she stared at the counter.

  “What is it Corrina?” James finally asked after standing there for a moment without her saying a word.

  “D-did you know that Lily was w-with child?”

  James walked closer to her and stared at the profile of her face. “Why’re you askin’ me that?” he asked, his heart instantly pounding.

  “I-I’s just worried that m-maybe she ain’t g-gettin’ enough to eat.”

  “Don’t lie to me. I know you’ve seen me takin’ food to Lily. So, tell me why you’re askin’ me that. Tell the truth,” James requested again with the last bit of calmness left in him.

  “N-neva’ mind,” Corrina nervously responded, suddenly regretting the fact that she had brought it up.

  James suddenly became overwhelmed with worry and lost control. He grabbed Corrina by the arm and flung her around to look at him. “Why’re you askin’?!” he demanded.

  “’Cause Lily ain’t talkin’ right!”

  “What the hell do you mean?!”

  “She just ain’t!”

  “What’s she sayin’?!” he yelled, gently gripping both of Corrina’s arms.

  “Crazy things!”

  “Like what, dammit?!”

  “THAT SHE DON’T WANT YO’ BABY!”

  The shock of Corrina’s words made every muscle in James’s body go limp, and he immediately let her go.

  “She don’t want it!” Corrina reiterated.

  James turned away, angrily wiped away an escaping tear, and then placed both of his hands on the counter to keep his knees from giving out.

  “I-I’m afraid ‘a what she gon’ do to herself, and I don’t know what to say to stop ’er,” Corrina confessed, breaking down into tears. “I done tried … I promise ya’, I have. But I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

  James did not say another word. When he got enough strength back in his legs, he headed straight to the slave quarters. His visibly red eyes caught the attention of a few other slaves as he entered, but he was far too focused on Lily to care what anyone thought about the emotions written all over his face. He continued to Lily’s room and found her curled up about to take a nap. James crept in and stared quietly at her for a moment before approaching cautiously. Lily had her eyes closed, but she knew James was there. She could always sense his presence.

  When James reached Lily, he knelt next to her and was still silent as he continued to stare at her angelic features. His eyes then drifted to her abdomen. Had Lily not slipped up and told him, he still would have had no idea that she was carrying his child just by looking at her. Although his eyes could see no visible signs
of life growing within her, his ears could testify otherwise. James fought back another surge of tears when his eyes reached the point on Lily’s body where he had placed his stethoscope and heard his baby’s tiny heart beating. He wanted so badly to caress the area on her stomach after recalling that joyous moment. This time around, though, he wanted more than just to hear the sounds of life, he wanted to feel it moving around within in her. He longed for the day to see it transforming the curves of Lily’s body, growing, and molding her into the most beautiful form of womanly art. He was eager for the day when he could easily see his baby playfully tumbling and kicking. More than anything, James longed for the moment when he cradled his firstborn in his arms for the very first time. But with the way that Corrina had just confronted him, he was now afraid that not a single one of those moments would ever come to fruition. That fear had him collapsed on his knees, feeling vulnerable, heartbroken, and ready to beg Lily not to do what Corrina had eluded to.

  Lily shifted and looked at James briefly after he knelt beside her. She then closed her eyes and scooted a little further away from him. Her cold actions, however, did nothing to deter James from speaking his mind. “I rememba’ once when we were standin’ out by the lake at William’s estate, you told me about this fantasy you had to walk to the grocery store wearin’ you a pretty summa’ dress, totin’ a purse. You said on the way there, you imagined everybody in town speakin’ to you with kindness. Even the store clerk smiled at you and asked you about your day. When you left, you said you looked up and the skies were clear. It wasn’t too cold or too hot, and so you took your time walkin’ back home. As people passed you by, you told me that they’d just smile and wave at you instead ‘a runnin’ off to find a sheriff or askin’ to see your papers. They all just let you walk in peace back home to cook dinna’ for the family you loved. I still even rememba’ the way you blushed a little when you talked about your husband comin’ home from work a little lata’ and kissin’ and huggin’ you like he ain’t seen you in years. You then said the two of ya’ sat on the porch and talked about your day while sippin’ on the lemonade you’d made. And I’ll neva’ forget the way you smiled when you envisioned you and him watchin’ your children racin’ home from school, runnin’ as fast as their little legs could carry ’em, ’cause they missed their mama and daddy.” James paused briefly and turned to gaze at Lily after returning from the beautiful vision in his head.