Antebellum (35 page)

“You be alright,” Buck said while he practically licked his bowl clean. “We's leavin' soon.”

I thought for a second of how rich Mr. Talbert must be if he had all this land and all these slaves to work it, but my mind quickly moved from that thought to wondering exactly what was in store for me. The overseers were back and yelling again, and all of the slaves were beginning to disperse to different areas. Again, I looked around, confused, until Bradley rode up beside me. He had a shotgun over his shoulder and a burlap sack in his hand that I could've climbed into and pulled up over my head. Without warning, he threw the burlap sack at my face. The material felt as if it took pieces of my skin with it as it fell to the ground. I kept my eyes from looking at Bradley as he yelled out at me.

“You right over here, nigger. Right over here with me. We gon' have us some fun.”

A group of slaves were moving in the same direction as Bradley had pointed, and I made my way toward them as they followed the path. We walked for about a half-mile, and when we finally broke out of the weeds and into the clearing, I was already tired.
The field stretched as far as my eyes could see, and was full of these plants that seemed to be covered by these white balls. I bent down to catch my breath, and reached out to touch one of the mysterious pieces of foliage.

“Hold up...is this cotton?”

“You niggers gidda work!” Bradley shouted. “Five bags apiece or you get the lash! Mista Talbert ain't putting up with yo' laziness no mo' and alls I needs is a reason to use me beauty.” He held up the whip to remind us what he was talking about. “Now go!”

The slaves began to bend down and I looked around, confused. I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. After a few seconds of trying to learn by example, I heard a crack beside my ear, followed by a sharp, stinging pain on the upper part of my shoulder that dropped me to my knees. I turned around to see Bradley with the famous grin pasted on his face.

“I told you we was gonna have us some fun,” he said.

I stood up, making sure to keep my eyes focused on the moist earth.

“I...I...don't know...what to do...”

I could feel the slaves around me stop and look back and forth at one another.

“What you mean to tell me?” Bradley looked at me with his head cocked to the side. “You ain't never picked no cotton?”

I kept my gaze on the plants by my feet.

“Naw...uh...no, sir...I ain't never picked none.”

Bradley continued to look sideways at me, then glanced at the two white men on horseback that were on either side of him. They shrugged, and when he turned back to look at me, he shook his head in disgust.

“Don't that beat all...a nigger that don't know how to pick no cotton.” He turned back to his counterparts. “See? I would've
turned this here nigger into the best worker anybody ever seen. He ruined is what he is, and he gon' stay that way now 'cause that bastard's stolen 'im from me. What the hell he gon' do up north?”

After agreement from his companions, he turned back to me. I dropped my head again.

“I tell you what, though. Today, nigger, you gon' pick me five bags a cotton, or I swear ta God, I'm gonna take the skin off yo' back.”

Law must have taken Bradley's last words as permission of some kind, and run up to where I was kneeling. I didn't register his presence until he grabbed my arms and lifted me up.

“Look 'ere,” he said. He bent down and grabbed the cotton from three different plants with one hand. Somehow, he separated the seeds and thorns with his fingertips as he picked it, so that what he put in the bag was almost 100% cotton. He did this repeatedly, until the bottom of my bag was completely covered with cotton, and then he looked back at me. “Okay?”

I nodded my head, and he went back to his section and returned to work.

I could feel Bradley looking at me, but didn't return his gaze. Slowly, I bent down and reached for a handful of cotton. Immediately, a thick thorn forced its way into my index finger, and I snatched my hand back in pain. I could hear Bradley laughing as I pulled the unusually large thorn out of my flesh, and sucked on the wound to try and slow the bleeding. When I reached out again for the same ball of cotton, I was extremely careful not to get stuck. Getting the seeds and all out of the ball, I found, was a lost cause. By the time I put my first ball of cotton into the sack, I was sure I wouldn't make it through the morning.

“Ha! There's a good nigger! And if that cotton's dirty, you got the lash to answer to!”

I bent down again and met a thorn that found its way into my palm.

Six hours later I was sure that death was around the corner for me. My hands had been reduced to bloody appendages. My fingers, gnarled and mangled, curled permanently into the position needed to pick the remaining cotton. I'd painted most of the cotton in my sack red with my blood.

The sun got hotter as the day wore on, and I could feel the cells of my skin dying as they succumbed to the ultraviolet rays. The slaves tried to help me, giving me their hats and cloths, but it was no use. I was already seeing triple by the time we broke for lunch, and now all the images and colors around me bled together like an ungodly watercolor. All of the bending over and standing up turned my back into a rusty door hinge. More and more frequently, it decided to stop operating, and caused me to collapse onto the dry ground. Bradley's whip would inevitably seek me out there, and steal pieces of my flesh until I found my way back to my feet. This process took longer and longer, until one time I fell and didn't even have the strength to yell out at the pain of the lash. It just kept coming, one slash after the other after the other, and I figured it wouldn't stop until I was dead.

At that point, Bradley realized the condition I was in. I couldn't move from off of the ground after he whipped me, and when he jumped down off of his horse to beat me some more, he found that my eyes had begun rolling back in my head. His fear of Reverend Lewis cut his torture short, and with great reluctance, he sent for water from inside the big house. I could feel the worry of the other slaves, but understood why they couldn't assist me.
A few of them had asked and had been met with the whip themselves. They struggled to figure out ways to help me, and I struggled to figure out a way to stay alive.

Suddenly, I heard Law's voice. It was barely audible at first, but got louder as he continued to go on. He was humming. A series of long, deep, dark notes came from behind his closed lips, and I recognized the song as “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” One by one, other voices began to pick up the melody, and the entire field seemed like a choir.

It was fitting that Law would be the one to sing the first stirring words.

Swing low, sweet chariot

Coming for to carry me home

Swing low, sweet chariot

Coming for to carry me home

“Shut the hell up!” Bradley screamed, but none of the slaves listened. A rebellion was happening, and even in my state, I could feel the electricity in the air. It woke up something in my chest, even as I lay half dead in the scorching heat.

Someone ran up behind me and lifted my head and rested it on their lap. A few seconds later, I felt water rushing down my throat. I choked at first, spewing up the life-giving liquid, but then I relaxed and let it flow into my body. The more water I drank, the better my vision became, and I soon realized that I was laying in Ella's lap.

I looked up at her as she continued to give me water, her face etched with urgency. When she was done, she cradled my head in her arms, and I knew she loved me.

“I SAID SHUT UP, GODDAMMIT!” The rage in Bradley's voice was clear, and I knew what was going to happen before it occurred. I struggled to rise from Ella's lap, my back fighting
against me. I made it upright just in time to see Bradley aim his gun and fire at Law.

The bullet struck Law in the shoulder, and he fell back onto the ground, groaning in pain.

Bradley turned to one of the white men beside him.

“I was aimin' for his goddamn head! Take 'im over to Sarah's. For all I care, he can die over there.”

The overseer rode his horse over to where Law lay on the ground. After hopping down off the saddle, he grabbed Law by the arm he hadn't been shot in and yanked him up to his feet.

You could hear Law's teeth grinding, but he didn't scream.

The overseer took a rope off of his horse and tied one end of it around Law's neck. He took the other end and tied it to his own wrist. Then he hopped back onto his horse, and rode off toward Aunt Sarah's cabin, with Law being yanked and dragged the whole way.

“Now...” Bradley still had his gun in his hands. “Next time I'll shoot 'tween them nigger eyes! Nobody better make a sound.”

I let my head fall back into the lap of my love. Law had made a wave that had the potential to be a tsunami, and the energy of it set my chest on fire. Now that it was gone, I didn't know what to do, and I felt my consciousness trying to leave me as my eyes fluttered closed.

And then I heard it.

O Mary

O Martha

O Mary, ring dem bells!

O Mary

O Martha

O Mary, ring dem bells!

It was coming from the other side of the field. It was too far to
be able to pinpoint who it was, but it spread like the swine flu. By the time Bradley had instructed the other overseer to go find out who was singing, it had already made its way to our side.

I hear archangels rockin in Jerusalem

I hear archangels ringin them bells!

I hear archangels rockin in Jerusalem

I hear archangels ringin them bells!

My chest was aflame again. I sat up slowly, powered by the energy of the growing tsunami, and shakily made my way to my feet. Locking eyes with Ella, at that moment, I knew things would never be the same.

“I WILL KILL ALL OF YOU!” Bradley's rage had returned with a vengeance. He took turns aiming his rifle at each of us, and I believed every word he said. With an energy that I couldn't explain, and a background of slaves who were cracking open heaven with their voices, I looked Bradley in the eyes for the first time since he'd broken me. I did the only thing I could think to do. I did the only thing that felt right.

“I don't know how I got here, but all I know is

that you can kill the body, but can't kill the soul, it's

indestructible when my people confront you we be...”

Ringin them bells!

I turned around in disbelief. All the slaves had fallen in behind my rhyme, as if God had synchronized us. I turned around, my body pulsing with an unknown force, and I took a step toward my oppressor.

“I was lost at one time, but now I'm found

was on top of the world, but got knocked down

and now I'm standin' with a brand new crown, and now I'm...”

Ringin them bells!

I was rapping, but it didn't feel the same. This felt like I was trying to summon an earthquake with my rhymes. This felt like freedom.

“I got whipped, got chained up, and locked away

treated me like an animal, you put me in a cage

but now I'm out, and before I escape, you watch me...”

Ringin them bells!

I had made my way up to Bradley, and now I stood in front of him, screaming words that came into my head like they were being poured. The slaves had all stopped working, and had formed a group behind me. Bradley had his rifle aimed straight at my head, but he knew he couldn't pull the trigger. His rage turned the air around him to steam.

“I'M A MAN, YOU CAIN'T NEVER TELL ME ANY DIFFERENT!

I'LL STAND HERE AND TAKE YOUR BULLET, YOU DECIDE TO GIVE IT!

AND IF I DIE, BET A DUB YOU HEAR MY SPIRIT AS IT'S...!”

RINGIN THEM BELLS!

“I TOOK ALL THAT YOU GAVE, AND LOOK I'M STILL HERE!

LOOK YOU STRAIGHT IN THE EYES, I GOT NO FEAR!

GATHER THE SLAVES, TELL THEM LEND ME YOUR EARS, AND WE BE...!”

RINGIN THEM BELLS!

“THE NAME'S MOSES! I AM NOT NOBODY'S NIGGER!

THOUGHT YOU COULD BREAK ME? HOMIE, HOW YOU FIGURE?

YOU MUST BE DRUNK BUT I'M TAKIN' THE LIQUOR AND WE BE...!”

RINGIN THEM BELLS!

A blunt object came down across the back of my head, and I fell to the ground. Before I passed out, I made out the image of Reverend Lewis standing over me, holding a short wooden plank, and shaking his head.

“Damn, we're going to have to kill you.”

My head fell to the side, and everything went black.