The Slave Master's Son Read Online Free PDF Page B

baby any more.” Mary kissed the top of her head. Hannah smiled.
    “Thank you, Mama. I’m goin’ to make you one, too.”
    “Well, that would be mighty fine.” Mary smiled as she pulled a chair close to Hannah. Hannah stopped sewing and looked at her mother. Her mother continued to smile, but something was behind the grin – something that she was chewing on that just wouldn’t come out.
    “What is it, Mama?” Hannah asked.
    “Ain’t no easy way to say this, Baby. I know how you feel about John,” Mary finally blurted.
    “Has something happened to him?” Hannah exclaimed. “I haven’t seen him in weeks. Is he in London? He told me he had to go to London,” Hannah said excitedly.
    “No, Baby. He’s back home now. John’s gettin’ married next week.” Mary looked deep into her daughter’s eyes and watched her pupils become barely visible. The light in her eyes dimmed like a candle being snuffed. Hannah’s face turned cold. Her heart sunk. She tried to hide the tears that filled her eyes, but it was no use.
    “Hannah, you been livin’ in some fairy tale. I know it hurts. I know it does, but John is a commodity, and he can’t be runnin’ around playin’ with you for the rest of his life. He’s grown now. He’s gotta get married and have a family of his own and have his own business. I know you cared for him. I know you did. I’ve been worried sick about you sneakin’ around wit’ him, too! I knew when you was leavin’, meetin’ him in the woods. I may not have known about every time, but I knew enough. I prayed every time that nothin’ bad would happen to you. I knew I couldn’t keep you from him, though. I could tie you to your bed and you’d find a way out. You’re a sly child – always was.”
    “Mama, who’s he marryin’?” Hannah asked trying to regain her composure.
    “Now Hannah, none of that matters. You just need to forget about John. He went to England for schooling on a class. He’s goin’ to the university for Law. He and his wife have their own house not far from here that was just built. I need you to accept what I’m tellin’ you,” Mary said as she gripped her daughter’s trembling arms.
    “I’m fine, Mama. Really, I am. Thank you for tellin’ me.” She spun around in her chair and started to sew again. Mary looked at her contemplatively. She crossed her arms and looked up and down at her little girl, now a young woman, right before her eyes. Heartbreak is everlasting and has a way of maturing someone.
    “These are my thoughts I’ll never say aloud to you,” Mary thought to herself. “I know the pain in your heart. I know it personally. I promise you it won’t get easier. Do you hear me? It won’t get easier! You only live to bear it, Baby. Each day becomes a test to see how much mo’ brutality you can take. You ask God to make you void or to kill you in your tracks sometimes. For some reason, God cursed us African people with dark skin so our enemy could spot us and make us pay for crimes we never did. My life’s been nothin’ but stolen daydreams, painful tears, and anger so strong it could stop a beatin’ heart within a mile. You fell in love. Now you’ll wake up tomorrow morning, full of heartbreak – innocence stolen and spirit broken, like a captured horse.”
    Mary slowly stood up and exited the room, closing the door behind her. Hannah continued to sew vigorously throughout the evening. As she felt waves of intermittent grief, she’d quickly gather herself and continue along her line of work. She worked tirelessly until it was time for dinner. Hannah stood up from the chair and stretched. The waning sun cast colors of crimson, pink, and mustard. On days like this, she’d sit on the porch with John with a glass of lemonade as he told her jokes. Sometimes he’d sneak her by the large tree and teach her a few new words and sound out the alphabet. She remembered the first time he kissed her hand and told her that he loved her. She stood