(The attached is a work of fiction. This is a copyrighted work. Reposting or any other use strictly prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder, except may be posted as part of a review or posted to free-access, non-commercial archive sights.
Copyright 2002 by Don Byron.
Please give me your comments.)
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It all happened just about five years before the Civil War started. I was more than likely one of the few black men to be sad to see it start. Most of them didn't have the freedom that I had earned though, and I understood that for what it was. Even if I tried to tell them, I doubt that they could have understood what my life was like and why I didn't want it to end.
My father was brought over from Africa. He ended up a slave on my master's plantation. Things were hard on them at first. But he was one of the only ones to persevere. He was one of the few if not the only ones to adapt to the point that he could live on. He died at the extremely old age of sixty-one. He had only one child, that being me. My momma died at 40 and even that was something at that time.
What he did laid out the groundwork for what would become the ease of my existence. He worked hard. He never, ever complained. It didn't take long for him to rise above the other men to become the most trusted of all the slaves. In the years that followed, Master Taylors grew to rely on him more and more. As I was growing up, my father let me know that if I wanted to, I could "take his place" on the plantation as there was no one else who could come close in our masters eyes to the trust he had in my father.
The other slaves were jealous for a good while. But as time went on, that faded as it became apparent that my father was a truly fit man. He was not out to out do anyone. He did not want to do anything but do the best he could in any given situation. I paid attention to him, and the things that he believed in.
By the time he was ready to move on, I was in his place. At this time, the rules and the living conditions had changed a fair bit from before, most of all for myself as well as my brother. Earl was just a worker, but he had a good head on his shoulders, took a wife and raised a family. He knew that I was the next in line for the Head Foreman's job. He did not mind it; actually he was a bit relieved that I was going into that role. He was always there when I needed him, but was happy to stay out of the limelight when it was time for decisions. Earl would tell me, "Seth, if you be needin' me, you call. If you need someone to talk to about things, you call. When you do, I'll be there for you. But otherwise, I'll hang back and trust you."
Now Earl got married when he was just around seventeen. I never got around to that. I worked a lot and I knew that I had a lot to get up with. I had good luck with the girls though. Especially the girls that worked in the house. I didn't really appreciate it at the time but I was special. They told me so, but I didn't pay them no mind.
Master Taylors had two children. A boy who died not too long after he was born, and a daughter who stayed healthy. His wife died after giving birth to the boy. It was a sad thing to see cause they loved each other a lot. She had a lot to do with out living conditions improving as the years went by. After a while, he remarried. She was the daughter of another plantation owner. We were not supposed to know, but we heard that the only reason he did it was because they did a lot of business together, and she was not of the proper moral construct of the era. She had been around and no one wanted to do the right thing by her.
At this time, Master Taylor was around forty-five, and Anna was twenty-two. Things were interesting around the plantation for a while. There was an adjustment period for all concerned. He never really learned to love her. He would always love his wife. But he learned to deal with her and the manner in which she would affect the rhythm of the business. She also brought an element of abandon of which he was unaccustomed. But we all thought that deep in his heart, he was glad for the diversion.
All this was good for the Master in the long run, but it had a strong effect on Becka. Her name was Rebecca, but everyone had called her "Becka" since she was little. The name just stuck. She didn't like Anna much at all. Her whole demeanor changed from the point at which her father told her of what was going to happen. It wasn't much at first, but by the time that she was fifteen, she was getting a hold of a serious wild streak. No one knew about it except for me. I knew everything that went on at the plantation. Anything that went on, I knew, whether I saw it or not. I could just feel it. I could feel the way the rhythms would move and change with people, theirs and mine.