Freedom Stone Read Online Free PDF Page A

jaw working and his hands clenching. George and Nelly were standing on either side of him and both nudged him to soften his expression and unknot his hands. The appraiser saw all this too.
    â€œWho’s that boy?” he asked, pointing Cal’s way.
    The Master, who didn’t hold on well to names, glanced questioningly toward the overseer.
    â€œThat one’s called Cal,” Willis said.
    Even on hearing his name, Cal did not change his pose.
    â€œBoy . . . ,” rumbled Bull. He gave off with a small snap of his whip and Cal raised his head and looked forward. The appraiser and the Master approached him.
    â€œLooks like a strong one,” the appraiser said, “and he ain’t near full growth yet.” The man took Cal’s chin in his hand and turned his face right and left. Cal’s expression was stony. Lillie watched and held her breath.
    â€œGood eyes, good skin,” the appraiser said. “How’s his spirit? ”
    The Master again turned to Willis.
    â€œHigh sometimes,” the overseer said. “He needs some breaking still, but that’s always the way when they’s this age.”
    The appraiser turned Cal’s face forward and regarded him closely once more. Then he let go of his chin, made a notation in his ledger and turned away. Lillie released her breath.
    The appraiser now walked slowly back up the line. There were three other boys Cal’s age on the plantation, and they all drew his interest. Men much beyond their middle thirties were less valuable; they’d been worked out or would be soon enough, but the Master might add one to a sale of two or three other slaves if that would round out the price he was getting. Girls a little older than Lillie were of special interest since they were almost as strong as boys their age and had all their baby-making years ahead of them. Buy a slave girl who later had three children and you got four workers for a single price. There were four girls on the plantation about this age, and the appraiser stopped in front of them all.
    Finally, he approached Lillie and her family and, as Lillie had hoped, did not show much interest. Mama was too old for his needs, Lillie was still a little too young, and a boy as small as Plato was all but useless. The appraiser passed them by without slowing, then stopped. He turned back and looked squarely at Plato. Lillie snapped her head from the appraiser to Plato and back again, and then moved as if she were about to jump at him. Mama squeezed her hand and kept her still.
    â€œHow old’s the boy?” the appraiser asked.
    The Master shrugged. “Seven?” he guessed.
    â€œSix,” said Willis. He ticked his head at Bull, who moved a step closer.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” the appraiser asked Plato.
    The boy didn’t answer.
    â€œIt’s Plato,” said Willis.
    The appraiser laughed at that.
    â€œHis papa give it to him,” Willis said. “You can change it if you like.”
    â€œPlato’ll do for now,” the appraiser said and turned back to the boy. “You look like a strong, boy. Are you?”
    Plato looked to Mama, who glanced fleetingly toward the appraiser with ice in her eyes. Then she turned to the boy and nodded for him to answer.
    â€œYes, sir,” he said.
    â€œThen how ’bout you jump for me?”
    â€œSir?” Plato asked.
    â€œJump,” the appraiser repeated.
    Mama grabbed Plato and pulled him back to her.
    â€œFranny ...,” Bull said, staring at her hard and flicking his whip.
    Mama looked at the whip, raised her chin and held the boy tighter. Bull then smiled thinly, turned his eyes to Plato instead and flicked the whip again. Lillie drew a small gasp. She’d seen Bull give a child Plato’s age three hard strokes for stealing, and she didn’t doubt he’d do it again. Neither did Mama. She released him slowly.
    â€œJump, baby,” Mama said