Tuesday the 12th of April 1787.
Abraham walked carefully down the hallway of his master's house. He carried plates from the dining room to the kitchen.
Abraham was five years old, and he was a slave. He had been since he was born. His master, Mr Jones senior had purchased his mother and father nine years ago from a slave market. He was now old enough to be able to work in the house as a cleaner/waiter.
His father worked in the cotton fields and his mother cleaned the house. They and all the other slaves, totalling to about twenty, were over worked. He hardly saw his father as he worked sixteen hours a day in the fields, six days a week. The only day he got off was Sunday and he would normally rest and recover on that day.
Tonight, the Jones's were entertaining another plantation family. Abraham didn't know who they were. He reached the small washroom and placed the plates on the side and began to fill the sink with water.
Mary-Ann Wilson watched as the small black boy began to wash the dishes she and her family had just ate off. Her family had slaves like the Jones' but, none were children, and she had no siblings to play with. When she saw Abraham that night the innocent Mary-Ann didn't understand why her parents wouldn't let her play with the boy.
After dinner, she had asked to be excused and quietly followed the boy down the hall. She watched Abraham for about five minutes. He kept wincing in pain as he washed the dishes, and she didn't know why. She then walked through the doorway and spoke to him.
"Are you in pain?" She asked. Abraham spun around in surprise and in doing so launched the plate in his hand across the room.
Mary-Ann jumped as the plate smashed against the wall. They both stood there looking at one another until Abraham began to panic.
"No, no, no." He said, as he made to clean up the mess. He frantically picked up the pieces as tears began to pour down his face.
"I'm sorry that I frightened you, here let me help you." Mary-Ann said as she bent down to help clean up the plate.
"No miss, you mustn't. I have to clean it up. Oh no, the masters going to be so angry at me for this." Abraham said as he finally collected all the pieces of the floor and placed them on the side.
"B-but it wasn't your fault. I'll just tell Mr Jones that I was at fault." Mary-Ann said, trying to calm him.
"It won't matter, I'll still get punished for this." Abraham replied. He quickly returned to the sink and resumed cleaning the dishes.
"Is that why you are in pain?" She asked. Abraham didn't reply he just carried on scrubbing. Mary-Ann could sense his fear and felt so sorry for him.
"They shouldn't hurt you; you should be allowed to be free." Mary-Ann said, tears forming in her eyes.
"It's okay miss, my father always says to me that one day, our time will come. A time when those who hold the whip will know how it feels to be helpless." Abraham said, turning to look Mary-Ann in the eyes.
"My name is Mary-Ann, by the way." She said.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Mary-Ann, I'm Abraham." He replied. A moment of mutual respect lingered which led to the beginning of a friendship between them.
"Mary-Ann!!" Someone shouted from the doorframe. They both looked to see Mary-Ann's mother standing there.
"Mary-Ann what are you doing talking to that slave boy. Come at once." She ordered, as she looked at Abraham.
Abraham watched as she left, Mary-Ann turned and smiled at Abraham as she left the room. Abraham felt a warm feeling in his chest as he turned to wash the rest of the dishes. His father was right. One day, our time will come.
Sunday the 18th of March 1801.
The bells rang loudly in the church tower. Abraham could hear the cheers and applause as the ceremony ended and the doors to the church swung open. He sat on the cart as the couple's driver, ready to take them home.
Mr Jones led his new wife down the church steps and towards the cart. He held his new wife's hand as she climbed onto the cart and looked straight at Abraham.
Abraham's heart felt as heavy as a rock as he saw Mary-Ann look deep into his eyes. He had loved her since they were kids and even though he knew he could never be with her. That didn't make it hurt any less.
Mary-Ann took a seat as her new husband climbed up and joined her.
"Right, let's go Abraham." He instructed with a wave of his hand. Abraham paused for a while as he stared at Mary-Ann, she couldn't bring herself to look at him either. She knew what he was going through as she two had deep feelings for the kind, sweet black man whom she had grown up with. The many times they had snuck off over the years to play had caused her to love him.
All the way through the ceremony she had never smiled once. She knew that the day would come when her father would marry her to an eligible white bachelor. Someone who could run the plantation when he passed.
"ABRAHAM!!" Mr Jones repeated. Abraham turned around and proceeded to take the new couple home.
As they pulled up to the great house at the end of the long dirt road, Abraham jumped off the cart and headed back to the slave's quarters. He didn't turn around as he went, he couldn't bear to see the woman he loved walk off with such a vile man.
Mary-Ann's eyes began to water as she saw him walk away. She knew that now she had a husband, her relationship with Abraham would only be that of a slave owners' wife and a slave.
Abraham trudged towards his family's shack; his father stood at the door. He knew that Abraham was hurting and wanted to be there when he returned.
"Hey son." He said, as he watched Abraham stare at the floor with his hands in his pockets. He looked like a broken man.
"HEY SON!!" He repeated loudly. Abraham immediately looked up at him.
"I understand your disappointment, but you knew this day would come. You need to move on from this, turn your attention to a suitable black woman to start a family with, like Deborah She's only a few years younger than you and she likes you a lot." He said.
"I know father, and Deborah is a lovely and beautiful woman, but I can't help how I feel about Mary-Ann." He replied.
"It doesn't matter, she is white, and you are black. That's the way it is." He said, frankly.
"No, no it doesn't have to be like that. You always said that one day, our time will come. Have you forgotten that? Did you not mean it? It might not be today, or tomorrow, but father, our time will come. I will make sure of that." He said, sternly.
He had never spoken to his father like that before. He loved and respected him too much. Abraham walked away from his family shack and off to the fields to be alone.
Abraham's father watched him go. He had never seen his son so angry and determined in his life. He couldn't have been prouder in that moment, as he watched his son gain the passion and the fight, that unbeknownst to him at the time, would change the world forever.
Friday the 6th of August 1806
The screams could be heard from anywhere on the plantation. As the woman screamed in pain. She lay on the table in the centre of the shack as she gave birth for the first time. Her love sat by her side, trying to encourage her as she suffered through the birth.
Abraham was at the end of the table with Deborah. They were doing their best to help deliver the baby but, they were not doctors. Even so, they knew that something was wrong. There was too much blood.
After a few more minutes, Deborah was holding a large baby boy in her arms. She was caring for him with a couple other girls including Abraham's mother. On the other side of the room, Abraham was trying to console the new boy's father as he looked on to his now deceased love. He shouted angrily at the world, cursing the master for not sending for a doctor.
Loud shouts came from outside. The master and a couple of his 'overseers' had come to the slave quarters to quieten down the noise that was keeping them up. Abraham watched as the new grieving father ran for the door, anger burning in his eyes. He barged for the door and charged at master Jones.
Two shots rang out as he was gunned down by master Jones and one of his lackies. He fell to the floor and lay there, still as his wife was inside the shack.
The night fell quiet. The women inside had gotten the baby to stop crying.
Abraham looked at the master with the same anger in his eyes as the man who lay dead before had a few moments ago.
He had just witnessed the man, who gave the order to have his father whipped to death a couple of years prior, execute another innocent slave. Which left the poor baby inside an orphan.
"Abraham." Deborah said from inside. She was holding the baby boy and was looking at Abraham, trying to dissuade him from making the same mistake that the boy's father had just made.
The master stared at Abraham; he respected Abraham as one of the more intelligent slaves in his employment. When he took over the plantation from his now deceased father-in-law a couple of years ago, he had wanted to get rid of some of the less able-bodied slaves, like Abraham's father and replace them with younger and healthy slaves, like Abraham.
Abraham looked over the master's shoulder towards the main house. In the distance, he could make out the slight figure of Mary-Ann as she watched the events unfold from one of the great house's windows. She prayed desperately that Abraham would just turn around and walk away.
Abraham took a few more moments and tried to suppress his anger. He then turned and made his way back into the shack.
He closed the door and made his way over to Deborah and the new infant she was holding.
"What are we going to do with him?" She asked, as everyone looked to him for answers. At only twenty-four Abraham was valued greatly by the rest of the slaves and was basically their leader after his father died. He shared the same wisdom and kindness that his father had when he was alive.
"We will raise him, together, as a community." He said, as she stood over Deborah and the boy.
