Good Fortune (9781416998631)

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Authors: Noni Carter
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you’re—”
    â€œJohn,”—I looked up abruptly—“Masta say stay away. He was serious; you know that. So please, jus’ please, there are otha slave gals here….”
    â€œSarah, not even a fool could scare me outta feelin’ what I’m sure I feel.” I had nothing to say. His words traveled through the chambers of my heart. I let them roam.
    â€œHow you find me out here, John?” I asked him, feeling deeply relieved that he hadn’t walked away from me long before, leaving me fearful and alone. “Don’t no one know I come down here! I know you wasn’t lookin’ fo’ me!”
    â€œFollowed dis right here!” he said, patting his chest.
    â€œWhat’s there?” I asked.
    â€œSomethin’ that’s been a beatin’ an’ a listenin’ to you fo’ a while,” he proudly replied. I put my ear close to his chest, then drew back.
    â€œCain’t nothin’ be there fo’ me,” I said with my arms crossed. “You a slave.”
    â€œI ain’t no slave, Sarah.” John’s face had fallen as he said this, his voice painted with resentment. I looked at him with fear.
    â€œDon’t say that John, you know you’s—”
    â€œI said, I ain’t no slave!” he bellowed, his voice now stern. “That’s all up here, in yo’ mind! Them folk call demselves Masta call us slaves, but only those who think they slaves is slaves. I ain’t no slave. My mind don’t belong to nobody.”
    I had never heard that before. Those words sparked something within me I had never felt. I found myself swimming in a world of thought, a world of imagination, a world of freedom I longed for, a longing that usually kept itself hidden out of fear. Now, with John standing right here, saying these words to me, I felt this longing of mine dancing on my face, clear as day.
    â€œWell, I think maybe … maybe I ain’t gotta be no slave either,” I said, looking at him mischievously.
    John laughed, trying to drown out the carriage wheels in the distance. Masta was back, and with that realization, many other facts came to me like a slap in the face. We were slaves. Our lives were worthless, built only to serve our white masters. Our days were rationed for them and them alone. There was no us.
    The laughter ceased, and I silently left his side. He stood there for a moment longer, as if he held a treasure in his hand that kept falling through his fingers. Then he departed, and we slipped away from each other like one soul split in two.

CHAPTER
 9 
    T HE DAY WAS A HOT ONE, AND THE SWEAT TRICKLED DOWN MY forehead even before I could walk a half a mile from the Big House. Usually I had both of Missus’s children for this routine stroll, but this morning, only young Missus Jane walked by my side. I was a bit glad; with her brother near her, the two would commence to racing down the road with me in hot pursuit, and they’d be proclaiming, “We gonna be late, Sarah, if you don’t hurry up!”
    The first few weeks after the incident with Masta Jeffrey, I lived in fear when I neared the Big House. But the days trickled into weeks, and I had no confrontations with Masta’s son, not even a sign that Masta Jeffrey had ill intentions. So, soon enough, the storm passed. I finally grew to believe that for whatever reason, he had left me alone for good.
    On this day, as we neared the road, I saw a figure pass, his round face lowered and his shoulders slightly drooped. He drifted past me without a word. It was the first time I had seen Daniel since he and Tucker had left to accompany Masta and his son on a long-distance trip. They had been gone for nearly a week and a half, and I had counted the days until their return.
    I looked back at him, my eyebrows raised in question.
    What was wrong with my brother?
    â€œDaniel,” I said softly, keeping the corner of my eye on

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