Antebellum

by R. Kayeen Thomas

  Suddenly, I heard Law’s voice. It was barely audible at first, but got louder as he continued to go on. He was humming. A series of long, deep, dark notes came from behind his closed lips, and I recognized the song as “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” One by one, other voices began to pick up the melody, and the entire field seemed like a choir.

  It was fitting that Law would be the one to sing the first stirring words.

  Swing low, sweet chariot

  Coming for to carry me home

  Swing low, sweet chariot

  Coming for to carry me home

  “Shut the hell up!” Bradley screamed, but none of the slaves listened. A rebellion was happening, and even in my state, I could feel the electricity in the air. It woke up something in my chest, even as I lay half dead in the scorching heat.

  Someone ran up behind me and lifted my head and rested it on their lap. A few seconds later, I felt water rushing down my throat. I choked at first, spewing up the life-giving liquid, but then I relaxed and let it flow into my body. The more water I drank, the better my vision became, and I soon realized that I was laying in Ella’s lap.

  I looked up at her as she continued to give me water, her face etched with urgency. When she was done, she cradled my head in her arms, and I knew she loved me.

  “I SAID SHUT UP, GODDAMMIT!” The rage in Bradley’s voice was clear, and I knew what was going to happen before it occurred. I struggled to rise from Ella’s lap, my back fighting against me. I made it upright just in time to see Bradley aim his gun and fire at Law.

  The bullet struck Law in the shoulder, and he fell back onto the ground, groaning in pain.

  Bradley turned to one of the white men beside him.

  “I was aimin’ for his goddamn head! Take ’im over to Sarah’s. For all I care, he can die over there.”

  The overseer rode his horse over to where Law lay on the ground. After hopping down off the saddle, he grabbed Law by the arm he hadn’t been shot in and yanked him up to his feet.

  You could hear Law’s teeth grinding, but he didn’t scream.

  The overseer took a rope off of his horse and tied one end of it around Law’s neck. He took the other end and tied it to his own wrist. Then he hopped back onto his horse, and rode off toward Aunt Sarah’s cabin, with Law being yanked and dragged the whole way.

  “Now...” Bradley still had his gun in his hands. “Next time I’ll shoot ’tween them nigger eyes! Nobody better make a sound.”

  I let my head fall back into the lap of my love. Law had made a wave that had the potential to be a tsunami, and the energy of it set my chest on fire. Now that it was gone, I didn’t know what to do, and I felt my consciousness trying to leave me as my eyes fluttered closed.

  And then I heard it.

  O Mary

  O Martha

  O Mary, ring dem bells!

  O Mary

  O Martha

  O Mary, ring dem bells!

  It was coming from the other side of the field. It was too far to be able to pinpoint who it was, but it spread like the swine flu. By the time Bradley had instructed the other overseer to go find out who was singing, it had already made its way to our side.

  I hear archangels rockin in Jerusalem

  I hear archangels ringin them bells!

  I hear archangels rockin in Jerusalem

  I hear archangels ringin them bells!

  My chest was aflame again. I sat up slowly, powered by the energy of the growing tsunami, and shakily made my way to my feet. Locking eyes with Ella, at that moment, I knew things would never be the same.

  “I WILL KILL ALL OF YOU!” Bradley’s rage had returned with a vengeance. He took turns aiming his rifle at each of us, and I believed every word he said. With an energy that I couldn’t explain, and a background of slaves who were cracking open heaven with their voices, I looked Bradley in the eyes for the first time since he’d broken me. I did the only thing I could think to do. I did the only thing that felt right.

  “I don’t know how I got here, but all I know is

  that you can kill the body, but can’t kill the soul, it’s

  indestructible when my people confront you we be...”

  Ringin them bells!

  I turned around in disbelief. All the slaves had fallen in behind my rhyme, as if God had synchronized us. I turned around, my body pulsing with an unknown force, and I took a step toward my oppressor.

  “I was lost at one time, but now I’m found

  was on top of the world, but got knocked down

  and now I’m standin’ with a brand new crown, and now I’m...”

  Ringin them bells!

  I was rapping, but it didn’t feel the same. This felt like I was trying to summon an earthquake with my rhymes. This felt like freedom.

  “I got whipped, got chained up, and locked away

  treated me like an animal, you put me in a cage

  but now I’m out, and before I escape, you watch me...”

  Ringin them bells!

  I had made my way up to Bradley, and now I stood in front of him, screaming words that came into my head like they were being poured. The slaves had all stopped working, and had formed a group behind me. Bradley had his rifle aimed straight at my head, but he knew he couldn’t pull the trigger. His rage turned the air around him to steam.

  “I’M A MAN, YOU CAIN’T NEVER TELL ME ANY DIFFERENT!

  I’LL STAND HERE AND TAKE YOUR BULLET, YOU DECIDE TO GIVE IT!

  AND IF I DIE, BET A DUB YOU HEAR MY SPIRIT AS IT’S...!”

  RINGIN THEM BELLS!

  “I TOOK ALL THAT YOU GAVE, AND LOOK I’M STILL HERE!

  LOOK YOU STRAIGHT IN THE EYES, I GOT NO FEAR!

  GATHER THE SLAVES, TELL THEM LEND ME YOUR EARS, AND WE BE...!”

  RINGIN THEM BELLS!

  “THE NAME’S MOSES! I AM NOT NOBODY’S NIGGER!

  THOUGHT YOU COULD BREAK ME? HOMIE, HOW YOU FIGURE?

  YOU MUST BE DRUNK BUT I’M TAKIN’ THE LIQUOR AND WE BE...!”

  RINGIN THEM BELLS!

  A blunt object came down across the back of my head, and I fell to the ground. Before I passed out, I made out the image of Reverend Lewis standing over me, holding a short wooden plank, and shaking his head.

  “Damn, we’re going to have to kill you.”

  My head fell to the side, and everything went black.

  13

  I knew before I opened my eyes that the old Moses Jenkins did not exist anymore. Standing in front of Bradley and speaking with complete freedom had done something that no drug or stadium crowd ever had or could. I felt an inferno within me even while I was unconscious, letting the warmth of the blaze lull me from darkness to peace.

  When I finally opened my eyes, I thought I was in a Matrix movie. Things looked the same, but were somehow different, as is the case with a room in a house that’s been slightly rearranged without the owner’s knowledge. I imagine it’s what Neo felt, seeing a wall one second, and a series of zeroes and ones the next. My head hurt from the blow I’d received, but it was a righteous pain that made me want to laugh more than wince. It was a pain that was worth it.

  “I ain’t believe it till now...”

  I knew it was Aunt Sarah before I turned my head, which proved difficult because of the large knot and the blood caked on it.

  If I hadn’t known something was different about me before I’d awakened, I’d have definitely found out after I sat up. Aunt Sarah was at my bedside, but she wasn’t nursing me. She hadn’t bandaged my head, prepared any roots, or called Nessie, Bennie, and Liza in to attend to my needs. She just sat there and waited, like a soldier in limbo between wars.

  Law, Buck, Sam, Fred, and Tom all stood behind her in various spots around the room. When I stirred awake they didn’t move from their spots, but stood upright, squared their shoulders, and looked dead at me.

  “Aunt Sarah, I...”

  No. Something stopped me mid-sentence. A new voice that spoke through the fire in my chest. “She
is not your Aunt,” it said.

  I nodded to no one in particular, beginning to understand what this difference really meant. I sat up straight, despite the nagging at the back of my head, and took in a deep breath.

  “Sarah, what’s goin’ on? What’s happened since I been out?”

  My voice was different. Better. It was hard for Sarah to look at me now, as if I’d been infused with sunlight. She did anyway, though.

  I could see her strength now, like those zeros and ones in The Matrix.

  “Dey’s meetin’ up at da big house ’cause of what happen in da field. I figure they’s fittin’ punish all us fo’ it, and hangs you at da dawn.”

  I had no more room for fear inside of me. The fire in my chest had taken up all available space. I nodded my head, hearing facts and nothing more.

  “I gotta get up there. See what’s goin’ on. Can you fix this wound?”

  I pointed to the back of my head, and she immediately produced the ingredients she needed to dress the wound. As she stood and began to work, I glanced around curiously, and then looked at the blood-stained bed where I had been lying.

  “Why didn’t you fix it while I was still knocked out?”

  “You ain’t ask me to. I know you wasn’t dyin’, and you a man now. Gotta give men dey choice.”

  She’d answered matter-of-factly, as if I’d asked her if the sun would shine tomorrow.

  When she finished with me, I made my way to the door. I had a one-tracked mind—get up to the big house so I could find out what Talbert’s plans were. They could do whatever they wanted to me, but I wouldn’t allow the other slaves to suffer for my actions. If I knew what they were planning, I could figure out a way to get the slaves out of it. They could have me.

  I was one step away from the door when Buck jumped in front of me and blocked it.

  “Dey’s got overseers out there. Dey’s afraid a leavin’ you alone.”

  I looked back at Sarah for confirmation. She nodded.

  “Aight...look, Buck, is there any other way outta here?”

  Sam stepped forward.

  “Dere’s a trap door in da flo’ right here.” He walked to the other side of the room and moved one of the cots, revealing the thin outline of a square big enough for a man to fit through.

  I looked down at it, and then up at Sam in amazement. “How long this been here?”

  “Be some years now. Cut it to help these two slaves run away a time ’go.”

  “And you ain’t never thought to use it for yourself?”

  Sam shook his head and Law shrugged his shoulders.

  “Guess we been waitin’ fo’ you, even fo’ we knowed you was comin’.”

  I looked at everyone in the room, making eye contact with each person as I did so, and nodded my head. Then I fumbled around on the floor until I found a way to lift up the trap door, and gave it a tug. It stubbornly opened.

  “You be safe,” Sarah said just before I jumped into the darkness.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The space under the cabin seemed like an abyss. I felt things move against my feet and under my feet as I made my way to the daylight. I could vaguely hear the conversation of the two white men in front of the cabin, so I stepped lightly enough not to cause any attention. When I rose from the blackness, I stood up straight and squinted my eyes, happy to be back in the presence of sunlight. I took a deep breath, exhaled, and then sprinted forward.

  The big house was about a mile and a half from the slave cabin. I didn’t stop until the mansion was in my view.

  There was a stream on Mr. Talbert’s property that the slaves had told me about. It was shallow enough to walk across, they said, but large enough that you could hear it running from the house if it was quiet enough. Inside the stream was the jail yard line for field slaves. If you were caught going beyond it, under any circumstances, you were shot dead. The distinction between the two sides of the stream were clear—the slave friendly side had trees that stood side by side, swaying rhythmically with the calling of the wind. The other had two or three trees standing lonely and exposed, made to be envious of the freshly mowed lawn and flowerbeds that stood before them. I stood on the safe side of the stream, with my feet on the edge of my own mortality, and raised my head to take in this mythical abode. I faced the side windows, and from where I stood, any slave could stand and see glimpses of a life they couldn’t have. They came in flashes as the Talbert family passed their display windows, making their existence a piece of clothing in a store where you weren’t welcome. The large white house seemed to scream an invitation to other large white houses that stood erect with sunlight in its background. There was a homemade swing set sitting in the front yard, with accommodations for two little children with off-white skin and sundresses that smelled like honey. Any of the black children brazen enough to attempt fun would be thrown to the ground and beaten. A chimney complemented the roof of the house, while the small porch and shed in the back were only for the man of the house.

  A picture of the house belonged on a postcard, I thought. Either that, or on the cover of a novel entitled “Don’t Judge A Book...”

  I kicked off my shoes, rolled my pants legs up, and began making my way across the stream. When I got to the other side, I quickly ran and sat behind the first tree I saw before I put my shoes back on. There wouldn’t be many places to hide from here on out. There were one or two other trees, an outhouse, and a mound of dirt where I assumed someone or something had been buried. I took a second to get my breath once again, and peeked around the corner of the tree. When I didn’t see anyone in the windows or around the house, I ducked down as low as I could and ran up behind the closest tree to the house.

  From here, I could see people through the windows, but I couldn’t clearly make them out. Still, I tried my best to get an accurate count. Resolved on what I had to do, I took a series of deep breaths. When I looked again, I was met with the image of Mrs. Talbert as she came out of the front door and made her way to the side of the house where I was hidden.

  I jumped behind the tree, praying that she didn’t see me. Sweat instantly formed on my brow, and I found myself too nervous to wipe it off. I hesitantly peeked around the tree again. Mrs. Talbert was about nine or ten feet from me, picking up her daughter’s toys, singing softly to herself. I could tell that she hadn’t seen me. I took a long look at her before ducking behind the tree. She looked as though she’d been radiant in her younger years, but life and children had taken their toll on her beauty. Her skin was beginning to sag like elastic from her face and neck.

  I waited until her singing faded before I peeked out from the tree again. She was retreating back inside the house. My heart began to beat a little slower as a result. When she was back inside, and situated (I hoped), I took another series of deep breaths, then shot out from behind the tree. I tried to get even lower as I made my way across the field, and threw myself behind the outhouse.

  The stench was a small price to pay for my safety. I sat on the ground and thanked God that I hadn’t been caught. After a moment, I peeked out.

  I was close enough now to get a good view of the inside of the house. The two windows closest to the front door looked on to the living room. Mr. Talbert, Bradley, Reverend Lewis, and two other well-dressed gentlemen were sitting on the couches and chairs, engaged in what looked to be an intense conversation.

  “I’ve gotta get up there,” I whispered. “I gotta know what they talkin’ about.”

  The living room led to a dining room, bustling with a constant flow of traffic. I assumed the men would eat after they finished talking, because four different slave women were rushing in and out of the room setting up silverware and placemats. They bumped into and scooted around each other as they went hurriedly about their business.

  Another window gave me a view to the kitchen; a lone woman was inside. My breath caught as I recognized Ella. She kept her eyes glued to a pan on the stove, as if she were frying up the key to her emancipation.

/>   Suddenly, hearing the white men’s conversation was secondary in my thoughts. I had to talk to Ella, no matter what it took.

  I was close enough to make out the people inside the house, but too far to hear anything that was being said. Each window was wide open, beckoning me to move closer, and I was too weak to resist. I gathered myself, ducked down, and sprinted to the mound of dirt that lay in the field. When I got there, I lay flat down beside it so anyone who happened to look out at it wouldn’t see me.

  I could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation now, but it was choppy at best. Frustrated, I decided that if I was going to jump in the water, it might as well be the deep end. Without thinking, I gathered myself once more and ran up to the side of the house, placing my back against the repainted white wooden panels. I was directly under the living room window, and if Mr. Talbert didn’t kill me, my fear and nervousness would probably do the job.

  Everyone inside sounded as if they were talking right above my head now. I forced my chest and lungs to still so I could listen.

  “...so, again, I don’t understand why this nigger has been allowed to cause all this trouble? Mr. Talbert, I’ve always known you to be a reasonable and rational man, which is why I find it hard to believe that you’ve let this spectacle continue for so long.”

  “Governor,” Mr. Talbert said, with a voice that sounded like he was slightly under duress, “I assure you, my first inclination was to simply hang the nigger and be done with it. However, my employee here implored me to let him keep the nigger and break him as he saw fit. He made me a deal, and despite my better judgment, I allowed him to keep the nigger. Obviously, I regret that decision now, but it’s not one I am at liberty to take back.”