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April 6th, 2004
Soon Angela and I grew up. At sixteen years old she was so beautiful. Even the harsh life of a slave couldn't ruin her beauty. She and I were still the best of friends. One night we went walking through the plantation. "Work today was awful. All I did was cook and clean," complained Angela.
I replied, "At least you didn't have to lift anything heavy."
She smiled and said, "That's right. Master Robinson had you liftin' the hay stacks again today. I couldn't lift all that weight. I suppose a muscular man like you has no trouble lifting all that hay, though." I nodded and flexed my arm muscles. Angela and I both laughed.
We walked along for a while, neither of us talking. The moon shone on Angela's dark, black skin. At that moment she looked like a goddess that had come down to earth just for the sake of showing off her beauty.
I was glad that we had decided to go out that night. It was impossible to go out during the day time. From sun rise to sun set we worked. At night we weren't supposed to be out, but I didn't care.
After we had been walking for quite some time Angela said, "I suppose we should home back now."
"I suppose," I replied. I hated for the moment to end. Back in the small dark room all of the slaves lived in we went to sleep. Sometimes I dreamed about what it would be like to be free. I would have a bed to sleep on, instead of the shabby blanket I slept on then. I would have a whole wardrobe of clothing, rather thar the few torn shirts and ripped pants I had now. I would have a large mansion, instead of the small room I shared with fourty other people. Angela would be with me. We would be so happy. Soon my day dream came to an end. The fact was that I didn't have everything I wanted and neither did Angela. But someday we would be free.
The next day I got up as usual and went out to the field to work. Angela went to the master's house to make breakfast for the Master and his family. The sun hovered over us as we worked. I talked to Tim, a buff slave a few years older than me, while I worked. "It's hotter today than it was yesterday," I said to him.
He replied, "Look at our master over there. He's sitting in the shade with his wife drinkin' lemonaid while we're worked like animals for nothing." Tim hated the master. He always had. Everytime he saw Master Robinson his anger grew.
Off in the distance I could see dirt rising into the air like smoke as a carrage drove towards us. Old Will, a slave from the Lewis Plantation, was driving it. The old, black horse trudged his way up to us. James Lewis and his wife were riding in the back. James Lewis looked at all of us slaves that were in the feild. His eyes stopped at Tim. "You," he said to Tim. "Get my wife some water."
Tim looked at me. I saw the hate in his eyes. No white man that wasn't his master was going to tell him to get him some water. Tim said cooly, "No."
James Lewis's eyed darkened as he barked out "I told you to get my wife some water."
He replied, "Well I told you no."
By this time Master Robinson was there. "Is ther a problem James," he asked.
The man replied, "Your stupid slave won't get my wife some water."
Master Robinson pulled out a whip. He slashed Tim several times. Blood dripped from his back. "Now you get Amy Lewis some water," Master Robinson said. Tim gave one last look of hatred and left to the well.
Later that day I told Angela what had happened before Tim came back to the damp room we lived in. As Tim entered entered the room and walked away from where the two of us where, Angela whispered to me, "There goes the bravest man I know."
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