The Price of Freedom (18 page)

It’s wrong
. A voice in her
head chided her.
Jethro’s
voice saying, that if they
sinned they would be slaves to sin, echoed in her head adding to the other
voice. She ignored both. She could be free in two months!

Richard waited in anticipation. He
really didn’t need her agreement.  Once he signed those papers she would
be his and he could do whatever he wanted with her. However the thought of
being with her against her will did not sit well with him, especially in light
of what she had just revealed to him.

With great deliberation she turned
to him and said, “I will do it.  I will come to you willingly while you
are here in exchange for my freedom. How can I be sure that you will free me
when you leave?”

“You will have to trust me. And I
need you to keep that to yourself for now because my aunt does not know.”

At Thomas’ request, his lawyer had
prepared manumission papers at the same time as the sale documents but he would
not tell her that.  For some reason he wanted her to trust him.  He
reminded himself yet again that she was just a slave; she had no right to
question his integrity. She really didn’t even have to agree to come to him
willingly, but what pleasure would there be in forcing her?  He wanted her
to come to him of her own free will although, he acknowledged with a twinge of
conscience, the lure of freedom was almost unfair bait. Still, he had given her
a choice and she had taken it.

Deborah looked into his eyes and
saw the sincerity in them and for the first time in her life she felt hope and
a song was birthed in her soul.  It was a song of freedom.

Deborah returned to the house in
high spirits to find the slaves in the kitchen speaking in hushed tones which
fell into silence at her appearance. Nobody seemed to know what to say.

Sarah rushed over to her asking
worriedly, “Where you went girl?  What the master tell you?”

“Cassie was right.  It is me
he is selling, but only to Master Richard.”

“What? 
He
going
back in two months.  What he want to buy you for?  He
going take you back to Carolina with him?”  Sarah’s voice rose in panic.

Deborah hesitated, not sure how to
answer but she was saved by Hattie butting in. “Master Richard buying
you? 
For what?
  He never even called you to
his room!” she added jealously.

“So you
still
going
to work in the house?  What you going to do?” This was from
Cassie.

“I don’t know.  They have not
signed any papers yet so I don’t know what will happen.  I was so scared
when the master told me that he was selling me and although I don’t want
anything to do with Master Richard, I am glad that it is to him and not anybody
else.  At least I will still be here. 
For now
anyway.”

“That mean, he
ain
’
going be calling for me anymore?” Hattie asked glaring at Deborah.

“Girl, what you think?” asked
Cassie rhetorically.

“That real
unfair.
  She
always getting
the best of
everything. You think that you better than us,” she said turning to Deborah,
“but you just a slave too.”  With that she ran out of the kitchen.

Hattie was right.  She was
just a slave.  She had simply exchanged one master for another and she had
agreed to give her body to her new master in exchange for her freedom. 
Who was she to judge Hattie or anyone else? She was no better than they were.
 In truth she was worse because they saw nothing wrong with what they
did.  She, however, believed that it was wrong and she was still going to
do it anyway.

The cart driven by Jethro bounced
over the rough roads and Richard was glad that he had chosen to ride his horse
as his uncle sat beside Jethro enduring the bumpy ride. They were heading to a
plantation in St. Peter, which had run into financial trouble and was selling
off slaves today, to find one to replace Jacko. His uncle had said that he
would also take a look at the house girls since he would be without Deborah and
possibly Sarah in a couple of months.

Richard could not believe how his
visit to Barbados was turning out. When he left Carolina he never imagined that
he would end up owning a slave, far less one as beautiful as Deborah. He had
signed the ownership papers only yesterday and now was £20 poorer but he felt richer
for his possession. He owned Deborah. The thought gave him a feeling of power
and excitement.

It was Thursday but he would make
himself wait until Saturday night before he called for her. He wanted to take
his time and he didn't want to have to get up and go out on the plantation the
following day. Besides anticipation was half the pleasure.

His aunt was patently displeased
about the sale of Deborah to him. She had wanted her sold and Richard could
imagine that she had hoped for a cruel master to buy her. He had not even told
her that he had planned to free Deborah when he left. She would no doubt feel
that Deborah had once again triumphed over her. He had asked her not to mention
the purchase if she wrote to his mother; he would prefer if they never knew of
his madness.

Yesterday his uncle had summoned
Deborah to his office after they had signed the papers to tell her that she was
now owned by him. Richard recalled the panic in her eyes as they met his
briefly before it was replaced by the blank look that she was so skilled at
adopting. He wondered if she regretted their agreement.

Even in her usual drab clothing
with her hair hidden in a handkerchief she was beautiful and he felt the pride
of possession. She was now his. He couldn't prevent the quick smile that
flitted across his face as he eyed her from head to toe and thought with a
great deal of satisfaction, ‘Mine’.

The cart turning up a driveway
shifted his attention and dragged him back into the present. In the distance he
could see a plantation house that looked as if it hadn’t had a coat of paint in
several years with a few of the shutters hanging drunkenly against the
windows.  It was obvious that the owner had no extra money to spend on
maintaining the house.

There were already several horses
and carts in the yard but Jethro found a place to park under a shady
tree.  Richard swung down from his horse and tied it to the cart as his
uncle alighted with an agility that belied his age. He greeted several of the
planters that hung around chatting while they waited for the sale to
begin.  Richard recognized most of them from the party and reacquainted
himself with them.

“You looking for more slaves
Thomas?” asked John Bowyer as a way of greeting them. 

“One of my boys lost his hand in
the mill last week and I need to find one to replace him. I may also take a
look at the house slaves because I just sold Deborah to Richard.”

John spluttered into the jug of
water he was drinking.  “I thought she wasn’t for sale!  I would have
paid you handsomely for her.”

“Well Richard was persistent and
the wife was beginning to nag about getting rid of her and Sarah.”

“You selling Sarah?” he asked
unbelievingly.

“Not yet, but no
harm in looking.”

The owner of the plantation, an
unkempt looking man who had the bloated look of a heavy drinker, invited the
planters to draw nearer as the overseer brought out the slaves. The men were
dressed in ragged pants and no shirts while most of the women wore skirts only,
their breasts bare for all to see.

Richard looked around at the
planters and noticed that no-one seemed to think this state of undress to be
unusual.  Perhaps his uncle clothed his slaves better than most.

The slaves were led forward one at
a time with their attributes listed for the buyers.  Richard’s uncle
appraised him of what to look for in a quiet voice.

“Look for strong arms and
shoulders.  Check for whip marks on their backs because that can tell if
the slave is either lazy or rebellious.  You don’t want those. Check the
eyes to see if they are yellow or white which will tell you if they are healthy
or not.” 

Richard nodded and watched as his
uncle approached a tall strapping looking
fellow
and
examined him.  The man’s expressionless face reminded him of Deborah’s and
a fleeting thought of what the man was thinking about this physical examination
passed through his mind.

His uncle made an offer for him
when his turn came to be auctioned and acquired him for £30. He was not
interested in buying any more women for the fields so he waited until the house
slaves were brought out. 

There were only three women and
one young girl who could be about thirteen who clung to one of the women to
whom she bore a strong resemblance. They were not bad looking women but none
could compare to the house slaves at The Acreage.  Richard now realized
that his uncle’s reputation for having the most beautiful house slaves was not
exaggerated.

“I don’t see any that I fancy to
replace Deborah,” confided his uncle.  As if Deborah could be replaced,
thought Richard.

“I need a young girl to help my
wife,” one of the planters announced. “I’ll pay £15 for that one there,” he
offered pointing at the terrified slave girl. Since no-one else was interested
in such a young slave the owner nodded his acceptance and indicated that he could
come and get her.

The girl didn’t seem to understand
that she had been sold and continued to cling to her mother.  The planter
sent his boy to get her and take her to their cart while he paid his money and
did the paperwork to transfer ownership.

Richard stood transfixed at the
trauma that unfolded before his eyes.  Mother and daughter clung to each
other, and began to scream at the master. The slave who was sent to collect her
pulled at her waist while the mother tried to beat him off with one hand while
holding her daughter with the other. The overseer rushed forward with his whip
raised and threatened to use it if they did not stop the ruckus.

Remembering the welts on Deborah’s
back Richard hoped that the fear of the whip would restrain them, but the pain
of being torn apart was obviously greater than the fear of the whip.  When
they still refused to part he brought down the whip across the mother’s back
and she arched her back and instinctively loosened her hold on the girl, giving
the slave the opportunity to grab her and run with her under his arm like a
sack of flour.

The girl’s screaming and crying
were haunting but the pure anguish in the eyes of the mother, not knowing if
she would ever see her child again, or what fate awaited her at the hands of
this new master, pierced the indifference that had been built around his heart
and he knew beyond all doubt, that the belief held by many of the planters that
these slaves were creatures with no intellect or emotions was a lie.

The journey back was silent and
Richard wondered if the others were also in shock over what had
transpired.  He soon realized by surreptitiously looking at their calm and
unaffected faces, that it was only him who had been shaken by the traumatic
parting.  This was nothing unusual for his uncle or even for Jethro; it
was part of life on the plantation.  Slaves were bought and sold with as
little emotion as buying a horse, probably even less.

Is that how Deborah felt when he
bought her?
As if she was little more than a farm animal?
He had thought she was overreacting but now he saw firsthand what it truly
meant to be a slave and he felt sick inside that he may have made Deborah feel
that way. Did he feel bad enough to free her now, rather than when he was
leaving? A battle waged between his conscience and his flesh and his conscience
surrendered after a half-hearted fight.  He just did not have the strength
to release her before he had his fill of her. He cursed his weakness but found
that he had no real desire to be strong.

On reaching the plantation,
Richard handed the reins of the horse to the stable boy and headed straight for
the grove overlooking the East Coast.  He needed the calmness of the
scenery to penetrate his disturbed thoughts and be a balm for the guilt that
was pricking at his conscience.

He shed his jacket and leaned back
against the smoothness of the tree trunk, opening the first few buttons of his
shirt to allow the breeze access to his chest. The beauty of the evening
soothed his soul and settled his thoughts until he was able to justify his
decision not to free Deborah right away. 

He reasoned that they had reached
an agreement, which she had made of her own free will, so he was not deceiving
her in any way or forcing her to do anything against her will.  He would
free her at the end of the two months when he went back to Carolina and he
would have had what he wanted and she would have the freedom which she desired.

With that decision made he got up
and headed towards Deborah’s hut.  His uncle had told him that the girls
would be ready to move into the house on Saturday and he was glad that Deborah
would not have to leave her hut in the yard to come to him at night.

He knocked at the door and it was
opened by Deborah who stepped outside to greet him. He was pleased to see that
her hair was not concealed under the handkerchief but she was in her usual
skirt and blouse.  He would have to see about getting her some more
attractive clothing for the duration of his visit.

“Hello Deborah.  Did my uncle
tell you that we signed the papers today?”

“Yes.  That’s why I’m not
helping with dinner tonight.  I understand that you will have to give
permission if you want me to help in the house since I now belong to
you.”  The latter was said almost bitterly.

“Well, you should be glad that I’m
a generous master because I am giving you the next two days off to rest and
prepare yourself.”

“You are indeed a generous
master,” she said sarcastically. “I am not any more tired than usual so why do
I need to rest? And what am I to prepare myself for?”

He leaned closer and said: “For
me. I want you to come to my room on Saturday night after dinner.  Wear
the green dress that you wore to the party.”  Richard saw dread fill her
eyes as she realized that he truly owned her now and what that meant.

“Very well, Master Richard,” her
voice shook slightly.

“I like this new obedience,
Deborah. While you’re being so accommodating, how about a kiss to seal our
bargain?” he teased.

She stepped back, expecting him to
kiss her mouth but instead he took one of her hands and planted a moist, warm
kiss in the palm, lingering for a few moments as he searched her eyes.

Deborah snatched her hand away as
tingles ran up her arm but the heat remained, as if he had branded her for the
entire world to know that she now belonged to Richard Fairfax.