Tuesday, September 12, 1826

It was still dark outside when Massa Howard Stone came running through the slave quarters banging pots and smacking us awake. We was all terrified something fierce, but we was expecting it. I was dressed in my night shirt and tried to put on my drawers amid all the commotion.

“Get your sorry asses up right now. We have a busy day ahead of us. Most of you niggers will be taking a trip. Get your clothes on right now and stand out front of these quarters,” Massa Howard says with his hands on his hips. He was all dressed up in his fancy duds. 

I sat down on my straw cot and puts on my old pair of shoes. I gently took my fiddle off the pegs that held it above my cot, and cradled it in my arms, careful not to shake loose those keys I had secured to the inside of my fiddle with wax. I was all jittery feeling inside. I felt so scared that I might wet myself. My old hands be shaking something fierce. 

It was dark and wet outside and the only light was coming from the lanterns that Massa Howard and some man I ain’t never seen before was holding. The ground was muddy and wet from a light rain. Another man held back two mean snarling dogs kept on chains.

We all stood in the rain, wide eyed and scared in a long row stretching from one end of the slaves quarters to the other. I stood next to Lizzie, Lucy, Duke, Wesley, Roseberry’s Jim, Gracie, Jo, and their little boy Stu. We stared at each other in eerie silence, while one of the men holding the dogs went towards the main house, and came back later with Massa Edward leading two rows of maybe a few dozen men followed by a smaller row of women, each joined ankle to ankle, wrist to wrist by long heavy chains.

The captives covered their eyes from the light, maybe because they be kept in the dark basement all this time.  Massa Edward all dressed in his Sunday best, strutted out in front of us with his hands on his hips. The other man holding back the dogs stood behind him.

“I suppose some of you might have heard rumor that you will be heading North to Maysville today. Well, those rumors are true. What you don’t know is who might these lucky people be.”

My heart was thumping in my chest. I’d seen all this before. Families getting separated and people not seeing their loved ones ever again. I didn’t think my heart could take it again.

When I call your name, I want you to walk over to that fine young gentleman there, and he will fit you with some fine irons.” He pulled out a piece of paper and slowly read off the names. “Wesley, Duke, Jo, Roseberry’s Jim, Jasper, Lizzie, and Stu.”

When I heard the name, Lizzie, my legs started to buckle. 

Gracie let out a blood curdling whimper. She hugged Jo one last time and clutched her young son Stu in her arms. Jo reluctantly stood in line with the others. “Please, Sir. Take me also. Please, I beg of you,”Gracie cried. 

Howard grabbed young Stu and pulled the boy from her arms, as she fell, sobbing upon the dry grass. I couldn’t bear what I was seeing. Howard kicked Gracie in the side and said, “Get back in line nigger, if you know what’s good for ya.”

When Jo saw what Massa did to Gracie, he attempted to rush Massa Edward, but Duke and Jim held him back, so he wouldn’t get beat.

Howard and the other two men locked the shackles around our wrists and ankles, making us part of this unhappy parade. Roseberry’s Jim and I were placed in front of everyone, each of us holding onto our fiddles.

“The rest of you can wave goodbye, because this is a true farewell,” Massa Edward says, with a big sadistic grin.

I looks back as they drag Lizzie to the back of the line with all the other women folk. Duke gives me a stern look, pointing to my fiddle. I gives him a quick nod and lowers my head.

The other slaves are told to go back to their quarters. I can still hear the wails of grief coming from the cabins. Massa Howard takes some fancy red white and blue cockades and pin it to my jacket. He then places a feathered hat on both me and Jim’s head. 

He walks down the row and gives a slave named, Resin, a big ole USA flag to carry. “There, now this will make a proper parade. Gotta put on a good show for the citizens of Millersburg when we pass through,” he says, clapping his hands together with a whistle.

The men mounted their horses and thus began our slow mournful march North to Maysville. 

Somewhere just outside of Millersburg, the rain gets a bit heavy. Lightning flashes and I jumps a little as the thunder rolls across the valley. I looks over at Jim, but he is missing. The weight on my feet and ankles are gone, and only the fiddle rests in my arm. 

I turns around and whispers, “Jim, Jim,” but he and the rest of our sad group are gone. I am surprised to see large grey elephants following close behind me with their feet in chains.

A young white man ran up beside me all out of breath. “Harvey, why did you stop? Is something wrong?” I looked down at my ankles and arms. The chains were gone, but the skin on my arms were white. I wore more fancy clothes than I was used to. 

“Uh, no Sir. Nothing wrong here, Massa. Things be just fine I guess. Just catching my breath a spell.”

“You sound different. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yessir,” I nodded and continued to play another dirge on my fiddle. As I was walking, the elephant made some trumpeting, roaring sounds, and somehow it came to me what they was a saying. Asking about drinking in the river.

Right before we gets to town, the elephants rush down the banks of the river beside a bridge.

As they played in the river beside the dam, little white children and local townsfolk came to watch. I sat on a log playing my fiddle on the muddy bank. The jade disk in my pocket was vibrating. I could feel it calling me to go further East. 

One little boy approached me asking, “Is the circus coming here?”

“I don’t know, young feller. The elephants needed to cool off I suppose.” My hands were shaking and it was hard to hold my fiddle against my chin. The kid ran off towards his friends.

Some sturdy white man stood nearby and heard the conversation, “The kid messing with you, Harvey?” he laughed.

“I’m not feeling so well. So how much longer do you think we will be here, young feller” I said, putting the fiddle down beside my feet. 

“The rear axle busted and I suspect that it will be a few more hours. Why, you got somewhere to go?”

“No, I suppose not,” I lied, but I knew my family was somewhere heading towards Maysville. They needed me to give them that key. I glanced up at the bridge and saw the other young man flirting with some of the local girls who had come to see the elephants. “Looks like your friend has met some lady friends,” I said, nodding towards the bridge.

The man turned, looking towards the road, “You watch the elephants, I’ll be back,” he said, with a smile as he run up the bank towards the girls.

As I sat there feeling confused and sorry for myself. One of the elephants left the other elephants and came up beside me. She made a low sound and a trumpet sound that I understood to be, “We want baby back. You help, help get baby free?”

I shook my head all confused and said, “You elephants can talk? You wants me to get your baby, huh? I suppose I can try if’n I gets a chance.” I said, trying to comfort the beasts, but I had no idea if I could do it, let alone free myself.

Now that the two men were away, I took my chance and ran up the bank towards the road. I couldn’t see the men. A large group of people had gathered to look at the elephants. I got on the main road and walked into town. 

Suddenly, there was a commotion. People were running outside into the streets yelling, “Elephants!”

I turned around and saw the whole group of elephants had followed me into town. I shook my head and said, “Oh no!”

I placed the fiddle to my chin and started playing. The elephants marched in line right behind me. People lined the streets cheering me on. I felt like a king as we marched to the far end of town. I couldn’t see my family anywhere, but I could feel the disk calling me to go east.

As we marched past a small cemetery, the wind shifted and the clouds were gone. A heavy weight returned to my ankles and wrists. I glanced down at my black skin bound once again in chains and let out a heavy sigh and placed the fiddle back to my chin and continued with another sad dirge.