Chapter 3

Birthday Party

July 1826

“Jasper, wake up. Massa Edward be wondrin’ where youse hidin’. They done started the party and been askin’ where’s my other fiddle player.” said my niece Lizzy, shaking my shoulder.

“What’d you tell em?” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“Not a word ‘cept that you be fixin’ a broken string.”

“You run along now. I be right behind you.” 

I sat up in the little straw cot and put on my shirt. Massa Edward is not a man to be kept waiting. As I reached for my fiddle on a little wooden shelf on the wall, I thought about the strange dream about elephants as big as a house walking down the middle of the street. 

It was hot and humid, not even a breeze. I pulled out my hanky to wipe the sweat from my brow. Grasshoppers big as mice, were swarming through the dry grass. I followed Lizzie as she tiptoed barefoot down the path, being careful not to step on one. I high tailed it towards the main house and slipped in the through the servants door. 

Bessie, the house cook, was bent over the stove stirring a pot of beans. She turned around facing me, wiping the sweat from her brow with her big sausage fingers. “You bess get you’se black ass in dere. Miss Polly done start openin’ her presents.” said Bessie, with her hand on her waist.

“Oh lordy,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. That woman sho likes to order men folk around.

I cracked open the door and shuffled in. The room was full of white folk all dressed gay and fancy. Some children were from neighboring farms here with their parents. My pal, Jim, played his fiddle while little Miss Polly opened all of her colorful packages. I caught Massa Edward’s eye and he shot me a stern look. I nodded and joined Jim by playing along. I glanced back and caught Massa Edward smiling at Polly. Bessie walked in carrying a big cake and placed it on the long dining room table. Lizzie and Lucy followed her with plates and silverware. The guests took their seats while the women served the cake and cool drinks.

We played until the children asked to be excused to go outside. Once all the guests had gone outside, Jim and I moseyed back to the slave quarters. I was surprised by the boss’s nephew, Howard, all gussied up in his fancy britches, white shirt and red bow tie. He smelled of liquor

“Jasper, where you headin’ off to in such a big hurry? “ he said, twisting his moustache. “Uncle Edward wants to see you around back of the house.” 

My knees went weak. I was afeared of what he might do to me. Massa Edward, he be as mean as they get. I slowly walked around back. You can never tell what sort of mood he might be in. Massa, he be standin’ there next to the smoke house smacking that razor strop in his other hand. 

“Mighty fine music you played. All the children seemed to enjoy it,” said Massa, smiling.

“Yes’m, I specks they do.”

“Don’t you think they would have liked it more had you been there sooner?” he says, looking at me slyly. 

“Yes’m boss.” I gulped and hung my head.

“I was just thinkin’ how your niece Lizzie turned out to be a fine house nigger. I expect she would bring a dandy price if I was to put her up on the market.” He raised one eyebrow as if waiting for a response.

“Oh please Massa’ Edward sir! I won’t be late again. Lizzie’s all I care ‘bout in this whole world. Please don’t.” 

“Hmm, I suppose we can hold on to her a bit longer.”

“Thank ye sir, thank ye. You won’t have any trouble out of me. No sir.”

The boss turned and walked back inside. I was shaking something fierce. Massa Edward sure can be mean when he wants to. I seen him whoop one of the young men just fo lookin’ at him wrong.

I hurried on back to the slave quarters to put up my fiddle. As I sat down on the cot, one of the young’uns named Stu shook my sleeve.

“Er you in trouble Jasper?” he said, all doe eyed.

“Not today child. Old Jasper done had a talk with Massa Edward. He says I needs to make sho’ I ain’t late agin.”

Lizzie walked in with lil’ Essie under her arm. 

“Oh Lordy Uncle Jasper, I thought you were in trouble fo’ sho’. I hears tell that Massa Edward planning another trip at the end of summer.”

“Who told you dat?”

“I hears it from Bessie. She over heard young Massa Howard and his weaselly friend, David Cobb, talking ‘bout how they’s got enough niggah folk to fill a flatboat.”

“Are we takin’ a trip Jasper?” said Stu, all excited.

“I hopes not child. I done lost enough family already. Where be Jim?”

“He gone out with Lucy to gather the clothes. Bessie says a big storm a commin’. She can feel it in her bones,” said Lizzie.

“The rest of them be comin’ back from hoin’ the weeds. I ‘specs I best get to puttin’ up the hosses.” I says.

Dark clouds came rolling in and the wind picked up. I had just got the horses put in the barn just as the big raindrops fell hitting the bone dry ground. The men came running in from the fields soaked to the bone. I sat on my cot as Roseberry’s Jim, Duke, and Wesley comes rushing in the door. The rain followed them inside as Duke slammed the door closed behind him. 

“That be one hell of a storm. Listen to how hard it’s coming down,” Duke says, taking off his wet shirt, exposing his large glistening body. “I am soaked to the bone.”

“We had to cover up the tobacca on the wagon when we saw the dark clouds.” Jim said, shaking the rain off his old straw hat.  

Suddenly, the rain grew louder and hail pounded against the door. Young Wesley didn’t even bother to take off his wet clothes. He just plopped down on his cot and laid down with a long heavy sigh.

“You act like you’se tired, boy,” Jim says, poking at the boy on the bed. “Ain’t you gonna take off dem wet clothes?”

“Leave me be, old man. I is tired. These clothes will dry soon enough,” Wesley said, feeling somewhat annoyed. 

Dammit!, Massa gonna be pissed if his crop gets ruined by the hail. He’ll blame us for not getting it in the barn before the storm,” Duke says, as he sits down on his cot.

“I hear that Massa Edward’s planning on another trip to N’Orleans,” I says, laying back against my old tater sack stuffed with straw I used as a pillow.

“Nah, who told you that?” Jim says, as he’s putting on a dry shirt.

“Bessie says she heard them talkin’ ‘bout it before the party. But Massa Howard wanted to talk to me after the party. Said that he was thinkin’ ‘bout how Lissie would bring a good price at auction. He was mad cause I was late to the party.”

“What? He wanting to sell Lizzie?” Duke said, getting all riled up, slamming his fists into his big hands.

“I tells him I will do better and begged him not to. I think he just wanted to get a rise out of me.”

Wesley, the youngest of us, sat up on the edge of the bed. “Where down the river do they take niggers like us?”

“Massa Edward always goes to Naches, Baton Rouge, and winds up in New Orleans. They say cotton is a lot harder to work than Baccer and the sun is hotter,” Jim says.

“Oh hell no! I can’t imagine work harder or hotter than this. “Look what Massa Howard did to me,” he said, raising his shirt, exposing his back that was covered in fresh scars after having been beaten for looking at Howard’s wife a bit too long. “We need to run away.”

“What you talkin’ ‘bout, boy? Boss hear you talking like this, he sooner whip you again, or hang you. You just keep your mouth shut,” Jim says, pointing his finger in the boy’s face.

“Maybe we should do something. I don’t want him to sell Lizzie.” Duke grumbled.

“Now you listen to me. I lost my wife, and two kids when I was owned by old Carl Roseberry. I tried to run away with my family and nearly got beat to death. You can’t do anything crazy like trying to run away… especially without a good plan.” Jim said, giving a wink to Duke.