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Authors: Joyce Hansen

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BOOK: Out From This Place
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Why can't they understand,
Easter thought to herself.

“After you find Obi, then what? What you think Obi doin' if he still alive? Workin' on a plantation!” Rose said.

“These people are renting us land and paying us to work. We could be like real men and women now. Have our own land, house, and family.” Rayford's dark eyes seemed to peer inside of her. She turned away from him.

“I don't care about no house and land. You mean this
kind of house?” She stretched her arm toward the wall, with its big chinks between the logs. “And pickin' cotton in a burning field? I want a house like Missy Phillips have. I never see Missy pickin' no cotton, and she be free.”

Rayford spun her around. “You're a child, or else you'd understand. You can leave if you want. I ain't your father or your master, so I can't stop you. But I ain't helping you do something stupid.” He put his hand on Rose's arm. “We meeting tonight with the other people who live here so we can all get to know one another.”

Rayford walked out, and Rose and Easter faced each other. Easter didn't want Rose to be angry with her. She loved Rose. But Rose couldn't seem to understand how she felt. All Easter could say was, “I help you clean,” as she picked up the bundles from the floor and placed them on the bench so that she could sweep thoroughly.

That evening, when Rose, Melissa, and Sarah left for the meeting, Easter lay down on the pallet. For the first time she did something that she hadn't done for many years. She tried to imagine her mother. Someone holding her and playing with her, the way she'd watched Isabel play with Miriam. But the only image that came to her was her former mistress, who had never played with her.

And now she had nobody but herself. But did she own herself? She recalled Mariah's last words to her, and she talked to God.
Do I own myself?
she asked. She felt like nobody. Maybe she should have stayed with Mariah and Gabriel. Jason had been happy with his Missy and his fancy clothes; maybe she should never have gone back to the plantation for him.

The next morning the sound of the wake-up horn startled her. She rubbed her eyes and shook Jason. He rose with his usual whine. Rose was already up and ready for work. She wore a straw hat and a rough apron over her dress.

“Rose, you a cook. How you goin' to work in the field?”

“I learn. I gettin' pay for this. Better fix yourself some grits 'fore you leave,” she said curtly and left the room.

When Jason and Easter got outside, they saw men and women walking to the fields. Some of them nodded in their direction, but Easter ignored them. She saw Rayford leaving his hut, but she made believe that she didn't see him. She walked toward the big house, away from the fields. She would ask one of the soldiers directions to other plantations and other islands so that she could begin her search.

“Now where we goin', Easter?” Jason limped like an old man with bad feet.

“To Obi.” She wasn't in the mood for a lot of talk this morning.

When she walked up to the man in the long coat, the same dignified white woman she had seen among the refugees the day before stood next to Mr. Reynolds. The woman fanned herself quickly as she talked in that fast, funny Yankee way. Several black children in shirttails stood quietly by her side. Jason's attention was drawn to the other children.

“Oh, good.” The woman smiled. “Here are two more.” She stared at Jason's torn ruffles and ruined velvet britches.

“Are you orphans?”

Easter was bewildered. “What, Mistress?”

The woman questioned Mr. Reynolds. “Are they orphans? We have room for a few more.”

Easter addressed the man, since she had no idea what the woman was talking about. “Excuse me, suh, but where is—”

The woman interrupted her. “Do you have a mother and a father?” the woman asked, bending slightly in Easter's direction.

Easter understood that. “No, Mistress.” She wondered why the woman was asking her these questions.

The woman turned to Mr. Reynolds. “These two should come with me. I like to keep sisters and brothers together when possible.”

Easter's heart raced. What was this woman talking about? “Suh, I want to know how to—”

The woman interrupted her again. “How would you like to come north with me and attend our school for colored orphans?”

Easter frowned as she tried to understand the woman's speech.

“Oh no, Mistress.” She pulled Jason closer to her.

“You can't stay here if you have no family to care for you,” Mr. Reynolds said.

“I don't want to stay here, suh.”

She realized that they did not understand her. The man waved his hand at them. “Take these two.”

Worry lines appeared on Easter's forehead, and her full lips trembled. “No. Don't take us nowhere, Mistress. Thought we was free now.”

Mr. Reynolds ran his fingers through his hair. “You'll go wherever we send you. We can't have children running wild. You have to go with this lady from the missionary society.”

“I not a child,” Easter protested. She felt the presence of someone behind her. She turned around and stared up at Rayford's face.

“Sir, this is my niece and nephew. I'll take care of them,” Rayford said.

The woman addressed him. “You seem intelligent. Don't you think it's a wonderful chance for them to learn how to read and write?”

“They don't want to go north. I'll take care of them and teach them how to read and write.”

The woman looked shocked. “You're literate?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said.

She stared at Easter. “Do you want to stay here with your uncle?”

“Yes, Mistress. We love him very much,” Easter added for good measure. Jason started to say something, but she clamped her hand over his mouth. She knew that she
should thank Rayford, but she couldn't look at him as they walked toward the huts.

“Now you heard the man, Easter. He gave me responsibility for you and Jason, and I say that you and he are going to the field like the rest of us.” He stared at Jason. “I have to get you some work clothes.”

“I could tote water in these clothes,” Jason said, pulling at the ruffles that were hanging off his shirt.

“You're too old for toting water. You're helping Easter and Rose hoe the field.”

Jason's bottom lip slid out in a pout. “Missy say I special an' shouldn't work in no field.”

“Missy? I don't see any Missy around here,” Rayford teased. Easter stared at the field, eyes blurred with tears. “No use crying, Easter. This is the way things are,” he said with finality.

“You tell the lady you teachin' me how to read and write. You mean that?” she asked, wiping her eyes.

“I'll teach you—after you finish your task in the field.”

“I learn how to write, then I write myself a pass to leave here.”

Rayford threw his head back and laughed. “That's slavery time. You're free now. Who're you going to show a pass to? The soldiers? They're going to stop firing at each other and let you pass with your pass? Mr. Reynolds ain't paying passes no mind. He'll send you with some other group of motherless children. Put leaving here out of your mind. You're not going anywhere anytime soon.”

Chapter
Five

The dream of my life is not yet realized. I do not sit with my children in a home of my own.

Harriet Jacobs
Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl

“Easter, let's go back to Missy,” Jason whined as they neared Rayford's cabin.

She snatched what was left of his ruffles, turned him around and spanked him. “Jason, I your Missy now. Don't—want—to—hear—nothin' else about Missy.” She punctuated each word with a whack.

“You should've done that a long time ago,” Rayford muttered.

When she released him, Jason dashed toward the woods. Easter started to follow, but Rayford grabbed her arm. “He'll be back.”

“Suppose he try and get to his Missy?”

Rayford smiled. “He'll have to swim. He's not going to walk in those woods by himself. The only other way out is past the missionary lady. He's probably hiding behind one of those trees and watching us talking.”

Rayford entered his hut and returned with a pair of old trousers and a piece of rope. “He can wear these.” He handed Easter the pants and rope. He also gave her a long
handled hoe. “Julius will show you how to use this. He's in the field with Rose now.”

Easter dug her bare feet into the dusty lane and tried to thank Rayford for helping her, but she couldn't get the words out. How could she be thankful about staying on the plantation and having to work in the fields? She walked back to her hut and left the trousers on Jason's pallet.

On her way to the fields she spotted a flock of robins flying toward the pines, away from the plantation. She wished she was as free as they were.

When she reached the field, Julius was showing Rose how to loosen the ground and chop away the marsh grass growing around the cotton plants. He bowed to Easter as she neared them. “Good morning, Miss Easter.” He smiled, tipping his battered straw hat. Easter saw nothing to smile about. Her face was as long as the rows of cotton plants as she followed his instructions. The sun beat relentlessly on her head, and she wished that she had her straw hat.

They worked steadily, but Easter couldn't stop looking toward the woods to see whether Jason would appear. “Well, ladies,” Julius said, “I think you know what to do. Just don't uproot the plant.” He grinned broadly, especially at Easter, showing almost perfectly straight white teeth. Then he left to work in his own field.

Easter felt Rose's eyes on her. “Why you didn't leave?” Rose asked.

Easter carefully loosened the dirt. Looking at the plant and not at Rose's probing eyes, she told her what had happened.

At first, Rose was silent. Then a low giggle escaped her mouth. “So Uncle Ray save you from the missionary lady. I hear it cold up in the North. Oh, Lord, Easter, wish I could've been there to see it.” Rose bent down and pulled out the grasses growing around the plant. “Where the brat? Did he go north with Missy Missionary?” She imitated Jason's whine.

“I give him one good spanking, and he run and hide in the woods.”

Rose laughed so hard and loud that the other hands looked at her and chuckled too.

Rose's laughter was contagious. Easter was surprised at herself for smiling in a cotton field. The sun burned hotter as the morning dragged on. She tried to throw thoughts out of her mind like a farmer dumping hay out of a wagon.

Stopping for a moment, Easter scanned the edge of the woods for Jason. She noticed that very young children were playing near the fields while the older children carried water and some helped with the hoeing. Easter watched Isabel walk toward a tiny bundle lying on the ground and realized that the bundle was Miriam. Another woman carried her child, about three months old, tied to her back as she worked.

Easter shaded her eyes and gazed toward the cabins. A small, brown figure walked slowly toward the fields. As it drew closer, she recognized Jason. He'd snuck back into the cabin and put on the old trousers, tying the rope around his waist to hold them up. He still wore his ruffled shirt.

“I sorry I hit you,” she told him when he walked over to her. He didn't respond.

“Why you keep that shirt on?” she tried again.

“Missy say gentlemen always wear shirt.” He looked down at his feet.

Easter snatched him by his arm. “I don't want to hear bout no Missy!”

He jerked away from her, listening in silence as she showed him how to hoe the ground.

They dragged wearily back to their huts when the sun set. Easter thought that her back was broken. Suddenly Jason stopped walking, pulled off his broken-down shoes, and flung them into a bush.

When they reached their cabin, Melissa said, “Better fix something to eat. I starvin'.” She rummaged through a sack hanging near the fireplace. “Let's see, the Yankee give
us two pound of rice and some salt pork. Guess we could—”

Sarah pulled her arm. “Look at them,” she said, pointing to Easter, Jason, and Rose. They'd collapsed, drunk from exhaustion, on the bench. Jason lay his head on Easter's lap. “I too tired to eat, Melissa,” Easter moaned.

“Field work is terrible when you not use to it. But you'll get use to it. You'll always be tired, but not too tired to eat.”

I never get use to this,
Easter told herself as she rubbed her back.
And I figurin' a way to leave.

At the end of the week all of them reported to Mr. Reynolds's assistant for their pay. Easter, unable to count, stared at the two coins in her hands.

“That's two dollars,” Julius said, peeping over her shoulder as they left the large shed where the farm tools were kept.

She frowned. “Is it much?”

“If you keep savin' these dollars, it can be a lot.” Julius placed his two silver dollars in a small leather pouch.

“What do I get?” Jason asked, running up to Easter.

“If you work hard, I give you one of these.” She held up a silver dollar.

They walked past the stables. Julius rubbed Jason's head. “Well, little fella, what you goin' to buy with one whole dollar?”

“A new shirt, new shoes, and new britches.”

“Well, Miss Easter, I think you have to give this boy more money.”

“He have to work harder than he work this week.”

“What're you goin' to do with your money?” Julius asked Easter.

She shrugged her shoulders, wishing he'd stop asking her so many questions. She had no idea what she would do with the money, except save it. She figured she'd need money when she left the plantation.

Before going to sleep that night, Easter tore the ruffles
completely off Jason's shirt, and taking two pieces of the material, she wrapped a coin in each. “Half for me and half for you,” she told Jason. His tired eyes managed to brighten a bit.

BOOK: Out From This Place
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