Read Online Cy in Chains by David L. Dudley - Free Book Online

Prescott declared. “See this, Dawson? Little baby Billy done peed hisself last night.”
    â€œWhat you expect, Onnie? They’re just animals. It makes me despair. Yessir, that’s what it makes me do: despair. Country give ’em their freedom, and see what happens without the forces of civilization to keep ’em in check? They go back to the animal state in less than one generation. That’s what I heard a preacher say: less than one generation.”
    Prescott nodded, like he understood what Stryker was saying. He moved away from Billy and stopped in front of Mouse.
    Not Mouse too!
Cy thought.
Don’t Prescott ever get tired o’ playin’ God?
    â€œAny critters on you this morning?” Prescott demanded. “Lizard in yer pocket? Little black snake in yer pants?” He laughed at his own bad joke.
    Mouse knew to keep his eyes down. “Naw, sir.”
    â€œAw, come on. You always got
somethin’
hid somewheres. You ain’t got even
one
little bug or nothin’? Better tell the truth. If I find out you’re lying to me, then—”
    Mouse sighed and unbuttoned his jacket pocket. He reached inside and came up with a big black beetle.
    â€œGlory be,” Prescott said. “Look at the size of him! Lemme see. Hold him up.”
    Mouse opened his hand. The beetle twitched a little.
    â€œI thought you said you didn’t have nothing on you. You ain’t nothing but a little liar.”
    Mouse was silent.
    â€œAin’t you, boy?”
    â€œYessir.”
    â€œThat’s better. One thing I can’t stand is a liar.” Quick as a flash, he brought down his stick on Mouse’s hand. The beetle fell to the ground, and Prescott crushed it with his boot.
    Cy wished he could do that to Prescott.
    â€œPiss-pants and liars in
this
group,” he told Stryker. “That’s what we got here this mornin’.” He stepped in front of Jess. “Get these sorry niggers outta my sight. And try to get that baby’s britches cleaned up before he stinks up the whole place.”
    â€œYessir.”
    The white men went off to the other bunkhouse to unchain Jack and his gang. When they were out the door, everyone stirred. Jess had them line up, and they made their way outdoors.
    Cy knew every boy in the gang: Jess, West, Mouse, Ring, Oscar, Davy, High Boy, Darius, and all the rest. Knew their habits, the sound of their footsteps, the colors of their skin that ranged from darkest black and brown to copper, coffee and cream, yellow, all the way to near white. Ring was as white as any white man Cy had ever seen, but here he was anyway. He said one of his granddaddies was a light Negro, all his other grandparents white, but that one bit of Negro blood was all it took to land him here. That and threatening to hurt a white boy who’d stolen all of Ring’s mama’s chickens.
    The air was chilly—an early cold snap. Fog lay on the ground and hid the trees on the other side of the camp fence. Soon Cain would give out winter clothes, maybe before Sunday. The few decent things they got from Cain—clean uniforms, secondhand boots, a regular hot meal—somehow always came just before a visiting day.
    They marched toward the outhouse. Cy pushed his way to the front of the line, just behind Jess. No one dared try and stop him.
    The outhouse stank bad, but not like in summer. Cy yanked down his pants and sat. He pissed and tried to shit even though he didn’t feel the need. Sitting down was a lot better than squatting in the woods later on, like a lot of the boys did. One good thing about going outdoors, though: you could usually find some leaves. Better not use poison ivy, though, as West had done a while back. He never made that mistake again. Here in the outhouse there was nothing, not even corncobs.
    â€œYou gon’ sit there all day?” Jess asked him. “Somethin’ on your mind?”
    â€œNaw. Just thinkin’.