Read Online Flight of Fancy: Cora's Daughters by Mercedes Keyes - Free Book Online Page B

lean against someone strong who was in charge, for just a moment. She was still free – but having this man lead the way so she could close her eyes and rest – it was nice. She still didn’t trust him, not entirely – but he had proven himself – a bit anyway. She wouldn’t think about what all of that meant – not right now. For that moment, she just wanted to rest her burning eyes – just a little bit. It was hard, going from being someone’s slave, to being free and having to think and plan for one’s self – living for today and always worrying about tomorrow.
     

Free meant, where to live?
    Always being on the run.
    Free meant – get your own food.
    Always having to be the one to hunt for it.
    Free meant – standing alone.
    Always having to think of what to do next?
    Free meant, get your own clothing.
    Free meant - deciding how to live.
    Free …meant - who to trust?
    Also, the most tiring of all – free meant you would have to protect yourself. Deep sleep and rest through the night, no more, not when you Negro and free.
    Consequently, it also meant knowing what to do with your life in a world that said – you have no right to be free, and no sense of how to be. Her mind was always filled with thoughts of what next? For now, she was dozing off to sleep – caused by the movement of the horse beneath her, and the feel of the strong large body she leaned against, gathering heat – and feeling safe. Safe enough to doze off and let him lead.
    Asiza would never admit it in a hundred years – running to be completely free – wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Especially if you had no clue of what to do, once you were. It was a different world, taken over by those who had also taken their freedom.
    She was tired… bone tired.
    Days of having to run constantly for your life and being on the go all alone and fear of being found while resting had caught up to her. If that weren't enough, nights of bad dreams woke her. Going through bouts of stress, tears and frustration - spending many quiet moments asking the Lord, why? Having to fight and face death thinking each time, this would be it. Pretending to be brave when in truth it was hatred and anger that fueled her and also… drained her.
    Killing took a lot out of one.
    All of it, every bit of it seemed to come down on her at once. Soon as she gave herself a moment to truly rest, all that she’d been juggling in the air, came down heavily upon her. Her body was not her own. Or was it her mind? All of a sudden, she seemed to be trapped there.
     

Something took hold of her and wouldn’t let go. She felt time was passing while she was more asleep than awake. It was an indescribable feeling of a heavy burden - some kind of sluggishness that felt like she’d been drugged. Asiza felt as if she were outside of herself. Sitting way up high in a tree, looking at herself, watching herself sleep and waiting. Her hearing registered bits of what was happening around her, gave her pieces of scenes that her brain recorded. Yet, it all seemed to come to her as if in a dream. In her dream, she kept saying to herself, yelling at herself.
    ‘Asiza! Wake up! Gotta go! Wake up! Gotta go! They gone catch you! They gone get you! Wake up Asiza – wake up!
    Wha’s wrong wit’you girl… wake up… wake – up!’
    No matter how she tried, her eyes would not open enough to fully wake her up. She even dreamed that she might be dead, that she was already in the afterlife and just didn’t know it. Even in her sleep, in her dreams, she was afraid – because she couldn’t wake up. She was panicking, crying in her sleep. She thought that she had maybe sat up only to slump back down – with the sleep pulling on her so, holding onto her so, she couldn’t break free. She cried, whimpered and cried some more, dreaming, ‘I’m dead Lawd, don’ died.’
    But the Lord seemed to cradle her, soothe her, caress her, bathe her hot body and tell her, ‘Not alone anymore Asiza, no