sudden bulge had developed in the general area of his crotch, just as it had developed on the Kentucky man. In no time the wielder of the whip was screaming and cussing and foaming at the mouth. There was a wet spot on his pants. He thrashed even harder as the pants got wetter. Yet she was determined to maintain her dignity and only winced inwardly as the whip slashed her bare back. She maintained a stoic face; she wanted to deflate the flogger. And this made him even madder. He lashed out indiscriminately, no longer taking particular care to create symmetric patterns of oozing blood on her back. He even lashed at her dangling breasts. This did not sit well with the Fairfields.
“She messed up my wedding,” said the lady of the house. “But it ain’t no reason to kill her!”
“It’s enough,” said The Owner. “You stop now.”
His pants were wet too, and he was finding it difficult to stay steady on his feet.
“That’s why they are so stubborn,” said the Kentucky man, struggling to regain his composure. “You spoil them.”
Once more the Abyssinian Queen was interrogated about the conception. The Owner looked at her appealingly, and his eyes were clearly pleading: Please give us the answers we want. It kills me to see you going through such pain and humiliation.
She was now aware that her answer would determine whether she remained with the Fairfields or was taken over by the Kentucky man and an unknown groom. Although she did not know when negotiations for her marriage were first made and the transaction was finalized, she came up with a date that was a few months back.
“She lies,” said the Kentucky man.
“The child rightly belongs to Fairfield Farms,” said The Owner.
“We can work out a compromise,” said the lady of the house. “We’ll send the woman over to Kentucky soon after the birth. After all, our children here are brought up by nursemaids and not by their birth mothers.”
But the Kentucky man demanded his money back and left in a huff.
The Abyssinian Queen’s status in the household was reduced. She had to vacate her comfortable room for the cabins. She also had to say goodbye to the luxury of having other slaves clean her chamber and wash and iron her clothes. Although her demotion from her aristocratic position as a house slave was supposed to be serious punishment she was much happier in the surroundings she had known so well as a young girl, and enjoyed the communal spirit that existed among the hoi polloi. The place was brimming with life. Family units were formed, even though everyone knew how tenuous they were. Mothers established new connections with those they believed to be their children, even though most of them did not sleep under the same roof. She discovered that she had gained an even greater stature among her peers. People remembered how she made The Owner run around in circles like a mad dog. She was admired even more for standing up to the masters, foiling their evil plans and depriving the Kentucky man of the pleasure of her screams.
The child was born and was named Nicodemus.
As with Abednego, the father was known in the slave community. When he and the Abyssinian Queen started behaving like a family he was exposed as the culprit to the occupants of the big house, particularly to The Owner, who had been smarting for a long time because his favorite concubine had been impregnated by a field slave. It was more that his ego was hurt, because in any event the concubine’s fate had already been determined through the botched marriage, and he was never going to see her again.
Contrary to every gossip’s expectation, Nicodemus’s father was not castrated but was immediately sold to a different plantation in Kentucky. As he marched in the hot sun chained and yoked to other young men destined for the auction houses of Lexington he hollered to the women working in the fields: “Y’all tell my queen that I’m gonna find my freedom. I am gonna come back for her
“She messed up my wedding,” said the lady of the house. “But it ain’t no reason to kill her!”
“It’s enough,” said The Owner. “You stop now.”
His pants were wet too, and he was finding it difficult to stay steady on his feet.
“That’s why they are so stubborn,” said the Kentucky man, struggling to regain his composure. “You spoil them.”
Once more the Abyssinian Queen was interrogated about the conception. The Owner looked at her appealingly, and his eyes were clearly pleading: Please give us the answers we want. It kills me to see you going through such pain and humiliation.
She was now aware that her answer would determine whether she remained with the Fairfields or was taken over by the Kentucky man and an unknown groom. Although she did not know when negotiations for her marriage were first made and the transaction was finalized, she came up with a date that was a few months back.
“She lies,” said the Kentucky man.
“The child rightly belongs to Fairfield Farms,” said The Owner.
“We can work out a compromise,” said the lady of the house. “We’ll send the woman over to Kentucky soon after the birth. After all, our children here are brought up by nursemaids and not by their birth mothers.”
But the Kentucky man demanded his money back and left in a huff.
The Abyssinian Queen’s status in the household was reduced. She had to vacate her comfortable room for the cabins. She also had to say goodbye to the luxury of having other slaves clean her chamber and wash and iron her clothes. Although her demotion from her aristocratic position as a house slave was supposed to be serious punishment she was much happier in the surroundings she had known so well as a young girl, and enjoyed the communal spirit that existed among the hoi polloi. The place was brimming with life. Family units were formed, even though everyone knew how tenuous they were. Mothers established new connections with those they believed to be their children, even though most of them did not sleep under the same roof. She discovered that she had gained an even greater stature among her peers. People remembered how she made The Owner run around in circles like a mad dog. She was admired even more for standing up to the masters, foiling their evil plans and depriving the Kentucky man of the pleasure of her screams.
The child was born and was named Nicodemus.
As with Abednego, the father was known in the slave community. When he and the Abyssinian Queen started behaving like a family he was exposed as the culprit to the occupants of the big house, particularly to The Owner, who had been smarting for a long time because his favorite concubine had been impregnated by a field slave. It was more that his ego was hurt, because in any event the concubine’s fate had already been determined through the botched marriage, and he was never going to see her again.
Contrary to every gossip’s expectation, Nicodemus’s father was not castrated but was immediately sold to a different plantation in Kentucky. As he marched in the hot sun chained and yoked to other young men destined for the auction houses of Lexington he hollered to the women working in the fields: “Y’all tell my queen that I’m gonna find my freedom. I am gonna come back for her
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