The Prodigy Slave, Book One: Journey to Winter Garden: (Revised Edition 2020)

by Londyn Skye

  Lily lay down next to the massive bed on the floor, balled herself up like a lonely infant, and cried herself to sleep.

  Chapter Five

  Slave Code

  Article X Section III

  If it shall so happen at any time that any Negro shall strike a white person, even in self-defense, it shall be lawful upon proof made thereof before any justice of the peace for such justice to cause for one of the offending Negro’s ears to be cropped for the first offense; the second offense shall result in capital punishment.

  A single ray of sunlight had yet to peek along the ridge of the eastern sky. The nocturnal creatures of the night had yet to crawl back into hiding. Even the morning melody of the birds had yet to be heard. But there Lily lay asleep, still curled up next to the bed on the hardwood floor, with a cold hand slithering its way up her thigh. The chill jarred her from her sleep. She instinctively recoiled to get away and bumped her head hard on the edge of the nightstand. “Don’t touch meee!” she screamed, slapping fiercely at the hand that had found its way underneath her dress.

  “Shhh, this doesn’t have to be a struggle,” her invader whispered in a tone that was heavy with lust. He pulled her close. “Just let it happen,” he moaned in her ear. The scent of his tobacco and his familiar British accent gave his identity away.

  Despite his warning, Lily screamed again.

  William tightened his grip. “I said be quiet! This is what you came here for. You might as well enjoy it,” he said. Despite Lily’s struggle to free herself, he buried his nose in the crevice of her neck and inhaled her scent.

  “Why you doin’ this to me?! Let me beee!” Lily began thrashing in the darkness, grabbing for anything she could. She gripped and tugged William’s hair with one hand and knocked his spectacles off his face with the other. In her fit of defensive fury, Lily unintentionally dug her finger deep into his eye, instantly sending him into a rage.

  “Damn you, nigga!” William yelled, slapping Lily hard in the face, instantly bringing her into submission. “I let you stay here in my home, and you dare to disrespect me!” He scooped her body up and threw it onto the bed. Lily continued to kick and claw, scooting back until her movement was impeded by the headboard. With no place to go, William was finally able to grab and steady her legs, planting his knees firmly on top of her thighs, catching her new dress underneath. He ripped it clean down the middle to gain access to what he wanted, then grabbed both of her wrists in one hand to cease all her movements. All Lily had left was her voice and the tears that now rolled in streams down the sides of her face.

  “Jaaames! Dear God! Help meee! Jaaames! Pleeease! Anybody, Pleeease! Help meee!”

  “Shut your goddamn mouth!” William yelled, slapping her hard again, drawing blood from her lip.

  “Lily!” she heard as she thrashed, still fighting to save herself from the invasion. “Lily!” she heard again.

  “Get away from meee!”

  “Lily! Wake up!” Benjamin pleaded, as he watched her thrashing on the floor, acting out her dream. “Wake up, Lily!”

  “Get away from meee!” she screamed in her sleep again before finally waking up. When she opened her eyes, she was instantly confused by where she was and as to who was speaking to her. When her eyes finally focused, she saw Benjamin looming over her. Startled, she retreated backward until she bumped into the nightstand. She looked around the room with her mind racing, her chest heaving, and sweat pouring from her face. It took her a moment to collect herself and realize she was trying to escape from nothing more than a nightmare. She shamefully looked up to meet Benjamin’s eyes. He looked just as terrified and confused as she was.

  “You alright? Sh-should I get Mr. Adams?” Ben asked.

  “No! No, please don’t … Please, I…” Embarrassment caused her to struggle with finding words.

  Ben was not entirely sure how to react himself. He just stared at her, hesitant to touch her, fearful that he would only make things worse. “I-I just come to tell you that breakfast is on da’ table.”

  “Th-thank you,” Lily replied, still scrunched up against the nightstand like a scared little mouse.

  Ben began to walk away but then turned around before grabbing the doorknob. “You sho’ you alright?” he asked with compassion in his voice.

  Lily lied and nodded her head only to get him to leave. She wanted to feel alright. She wanted to feel something good for once. She wanted to feel hunger, thirst, or any other normal human function to sustain her life, anything but the chronic emotional pain that pierced her body through and through and destroyed her desire to be alive.

  After Ben shut the door, Lily continued sitting against the nightstand with her legs drawn up to her chest. She closed her eyes, buried her face on her knees, and drowned out all other thoughts and sounds, and listened solely to the music she heard in her head. The mood changes in the melody took her from laughter, to love, to a feeling of floating through the heavens and back, to start the myriad of welcomed emotions all over again. She opened her eyes suddenly, though, and slowly raised her head when she realized that the music she was hearing was not her own mental composition. What she was listening to was a beautiful melody that was penetrating her bedroom walls and had pleasantly invaded her ears.

  Lily had not heard another pianist since Mrs. Adams’ death, but her music paled in comparison to what Lily was hearing beyond the bedroom doors. What she was absorbing instantly ceased all her pain, dried her tears, and temporarily erased the memory of her nightmare. To her, it was the kind of music that healed, the way hers tended to do for her. The music gave her the motivation to stand and walk toward the double doors. She opened them quietly and let the sound rise and take over her room. Without any conscious effort, she had moved from the bedroom to the top of the stairs, standing there briefly to listen. Then, like a moth to a flame, she descended the staircase, drawn toward the sound.

  With the music still guiding her, Lily soon found herself standing near the entrance of an enormous library. Every wall was made of shelves, on which there was not one inch of space that did not house a book or decoration of some sort. A sparkling crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling directly over the centerpiece of the room: a magnificent mahogany grand piano. It sat with its lid raised, allowing the deep tones to erupt into the room in a way that Lily’s ears were unaccustomed to hearing with the old upright piano back on the farm. When the song ended with a few soft strokes of the lower register keys, Lily was torn between wanting to applaud and wanting to cry.

  “It’s considered rude to lurk in doorways where I come from,” a voice called out from behind the piano.

  From where Lily stood, peering around the corner of the doorframe, the raised lid was blocking the view between her and the pianist. She was surprised that he even knew she was standing there. “I’m sorry, sa’,” she replied, sheepishly taking a step inside the library.

  “Beautiful piece, don’t you think?” he asked, sounding proud.

  “Yessa’. Incredibly beautiful.”

  “Come, come. I’ll play you another.”

  With hesitancy in her steps, Lily walked slowly toward the voice, her head hanging low like an animal chastised for its misdeeds. She had done nothing wrong, but naturally exuded a sense of inferiority in the presence of white men. She made her way around the open lid of the grand piano, and William’s face came into view. He looked up at her through green eyes that were wrapped in wrinkly skin. His spectacles were riding low on his long pointy nose as usual. Lily stopped and stood next to the piano in silence, with her hands clasped in front of her. At that moment, William began to play again. Right away, he took Lily to another frame of mind. His music, and the way he played it, had a way of embracing her, like she was a child in the warmth and comfort of her mother’s arms once again. She listened with her eyes closed, trying not to cry, absorbing every note, locking it all away in her memory, with the hope that one day she would have the honor of soothing herself all over again with the precious
melody.

  “Did you enjoy that one as well?” William asked, with a smile on his face when he completed the song.

  “Very much, sa’. It was beautiful. Very soothin’.”

  “Please, m’lady. No more of this sir nonsense. Please call me William. It would make me feel like much less of an old man,” he said, wrinkling his nose playfully at her.

  “Yessa’. Sorry, I mean, Mr. William … W-William,” she stumbled, feeling the heat rise in her body from embarrassment.

  “Much better,” William smiled. “Well now, I’ve graced you with a song. It’s your turn, wouldn’t you agree?” he cheerfully insisted. He got up from the bench and offered it to Lily with a hand gesture.

  The thought of James’s vehement anger, after catching her on the piano, instantly came to Lily’s mind. Playing the piano was the sole reason she was about to face a punishment more damaging than being whipped, in her opinion. It made the mere thought of touching the keys a terrifying prospect. “I-I don’t know nothin’ ’bout playin’ no piano, sa’,” Lily lied, quickly stepping backward, staring intensely at the keys, as if they were wild wolves ready to pounce on her.

  “He knows,” a voice suddenly said.

  Startled, Lily turned around to find James leaning against the doorframe, his hands gripped on his suspenders. “Knows what, sa’?” she asked.

  “That you can play piano. I told ’em. No need to lie. Go on and play if he wants you to.”

  Lily just stared at James, still reluctant to move.

  As James often did, he easily read Lily’s mind. “You won’t be punished for it.”

  Lily briefly held his gaze. She, too, read him well and trusted that he was telling the truth. She then hesitantly turned to face William again.

  William smiled and motioned for Lily to sit on the bench, allowing her access to yet another of his prized possessions. “Play anything you’d like, my dear.”

  Lily walked hesitantly toward him, looking at every inch of the piano in disbelief. She had not known they could be built like works of art. She sat down gracefully and looked at every key, familiarizing herself before lifting her hands. She knew exactly what she wanted to play, but she looked at William again, seeking approval from him with her eyes before she began.

  “Go on, m’lady. It’s quite alright,” William reassured her.

  Lily turned toward James one more time. They briefly held each other’s gaze before he finally nodded his head in reassurance. Lily then turned her attention back to the piano, inhaled deeply, and closed her eyes. With lightness and agility in her fingers, she began tickling her way across the keys. For Lily, everything in the room faded away. The books, the shelves, and the chandelier all disappeared. William and James were no longer present. Her fears and worries melted away with just the lightest touch of the ivory. Like any addict who had fueled herself with her chemical of choice, Lily was on a high. Her mind had instantly taken her to a place where pain could not touch her, where heartache did not exist, where sorrow could not penetrate her, where tears were only from happiness. Mentally, she was in a place where nothing existed except the piano and the memory of the notes that guided her fingers gracefully along the keys.

  The particular song Lily chose immediately motivated James to leave his stance against the doorframe. He began walking toward her, intently watching the beautiful expression on her face as she got lost in the melody. After he approached, he and William began scrutinizing her every keystroke. William’s eyes were transfixed on the way her hands glided effortlessly across the keys without ever missing a note, even though her eyes were closed. It seemed to him as though she was reading the notes as they appeared in her subconscious. He was equally impressed with her bodily theatrics and the way her hands crossed one over the other, mimicking someone who had performed in front of an audience for years.

  When Lily completed the song, William slowly removed his spectacles, as if he blamed them for deceiving his eyes. He stared at her in stone-cold silence. For once he was speechless. He then turned to look at James, who reluctantly pulled his eyes away from Lily to return William’s glare. He looked equally as perplexed as William. “That sounded a lot like the song I heard you playin’ just before I walked in here,” James said to William, referring to the song that had coaxed Lily from her room earlier.

  “That’s because it was the exact same song,” William replied, shock evident in his tone. He turned to look at Lily again. “Every note played flawlessly.” Although it was indeed the song he had played, William was astounded by the lightning speed of Lily’s fingers and the fluidity with which she had just played it back, especially considering that it was her first attempt. He felt as though her choice to add speed had enhanced the beauty of the song.

  “It was so pretty and so soothin’. I just had to hear it again,” Lily shyly explained.

  “B-but how on earth are you able to accomplish such a thing?” William asked, truly baffled. “Is this some sort of game the two of you are playing?!” He turned to look at James again. “Y-you must have found the musical pieces I had laying around here and given them to her before your journey!” he accused, searching his puzzled mind for the answers to what he felt was an impossibility. “How else could she have just done that?!”

  James felt slightly offended by the accusation but understood his skepticism. He, too, was shocked by the fact that Lily could retain music of that complexity so quickly and replay it with such accuracy. “William, I completely unda’stand your doubts, but I assure you I’ve done nothin’ of the sort. I honestly had no idea she was capable of doin’ that eitha’,” he admitted, turning, and staring at Lily, as a wave of questions swept through his mind. It was another revelation about her that bothered him deep inside.

  “With all due respect, William,” Lily interjected. “I couldn’t read my own name if my life depended on it, let alone read any music.”

  The room was silent, but James swore he could hear Lily’s words echoing over and over again. He turned his eyes away from her, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with guilt and shame because of the truth in her statement. He would rather have taken a knife to the stomach than to hear her say it again.

  After seeing the sincerity in Lily’s face, William felt foolish for doubting her. “Lily, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have made such an accusation. It’s just that I’ve never witnessed such a thing in all of my life,” he explained, the sincerity of his words confirmed by the expression on his face.

  “It’s alright. I unda’stand.”

  “Please, I must know how you’ve learned to play so magnificently. Somebody must have instructed you.”

  “No sa’. Bein’ a slave, ain’t nobody eva’ been willin’ to teach me anything.”

  Her words penetrated James once again. Such a simple conversation was affecting him in a way he had not anticipated. He propped his hand against the piano to steady himself, feeling like he had been punched in the stomach again.

  “Not even the basics?” William questioned.

  “No sa’,” she answered. “I tell you no lie.”

  “Beyond your level of skill, your ability to retain music is simply remarkable. I must know how you’ve come to accomplish this.”

  Reluctantly, Lily began speaking, feeling unsure of how much of her story she should tell. “Well, when I’s just a little girl, James’s motha’…” she paused, and looked over at James, uncertain if she should continue.

  Reading Lily’s mind again, James nodded.

  “James’s motha’ used to teach children to play piano. I used to hide at the top of the stairs and watch her. I’d memorize the way her fingers moved across the keys wheneva’ she played, and…” she froze, feeling her fears surfacing again.

  “Go on,” William urged her.

  “Well, wheneva’ I’s alone, I’d play back the songs I remembered her teachin’, by mimickin’ the movement of her fingers. But afta’ a while I didn’t have to hide and see the way she played. It got to the point where I cou
ld memorize just by listenin’, and then play back the notes I heard runnin’ through my head.”

  “So, Mrs. Adams never actually gave you any personal lessons?”

  “No sa’. I just push the keys that match the sound in my head,” Lily clarified, touching her temple lightly.

  “May I?” William asked, motioning his hand toward the piano bench.

  Lily scooted over and allowed him to sit next to her.

  “Close your eyes,” William told her. He immediately felt her apprehension. “Only for a moment,” he reassured her. When she finally relaxed and closed her eyes, he played three random notes simultaneously. “Can you play the notes I’ve just played?”

  Without opening her eyes, Lily quickly repeated the three notes. William proceeded again to play four notes, then five, and then used both hands to play six, and more at one time. Without ever looking, Lily played back every chord flawlessly.