youâreââ
âJohn,ââI looked up abruptlyââMasta say stay away. He was serious; you know that. So please, jusâ please, there are otha slave gals hereâ¦.â
âSarah, not even a fool could scare me outta feelinâ what Iâm sure I feel.â I had nothing to say. His words traveled through the chambers of my heart. I let them roam.
âHow you find me out here, John?â I asked him, feeling deeply relieved that he hadnât walked away from me long before, leaving me fearful and alone. âDonât no one know I come down here! I know you wasnât lookinâ foâ me!â
âFollowed dis right here!â he said, patting his chest.
âWhatâs there?â I asked.
âSomethinâ thatâs been a beatinâ anâ a listeninâ to you foâ a while,â he proudly replied. I put my ear close to his chest, then drew back.
âCainât nothinâ be there foâ me,â I said with my arms crossed. âYou a slave.â
âI ainât no slave, Sarah.â Johnâs face had fallen as he said this, his voice painted with resentment. I looked at him with fear.
âDonât say that John, you know youâsââ
âI said, I ainât no slave!â he bellowed, his voice now stern. âThatâs all up here, in yoâ mind! Them folk call demselves Masta call us slaves, but only those who think they slaves is slaves. I ainât no slave. My mind donât belong to nobody.â
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.
âWell, I think maybe ⦠maybe I ainât gotta be no slave either,â 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
 9Â
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 Missusâs 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 theyâd be proclaiming, âWe gonna be late, Sarah, if you donât hurry up!â
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 Mastaâs 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?
âDaniel,â I said softly, keeping the corner of my eye on
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