A Taste of Freedom by J. Wesley Brown

Author:J. Wesley Brown [Brown, J. Wesley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781483500515
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty two

Under a cloudless sky the wagon from Sweetwater rolled out of the ox-cart ladened town in the direction of home. The seasoned pine lumber of various thickness, lengths, and widths was neatly stacked, covered with enough heart red cypress to build a fence and perhaps to mend again if necessary. The town was nearly deserted and the only local citizens to wave good-bye were the sheriff and Mr. Joyner from their respective porches, and Big Al Jenkins, who stood in the open door of the saloon. He was smiling as he threw a couple of fingers from his forehead in a farewell salute.

Ropy clouds slowly wisped across the sky like soft worn cords with fraying threads before fluffing into shapes resembling bolls of cotton and then slowly dissipating. To the east the sky resembled a dry creek bed, rippled from last year’s spring rain, while in the west, giant webbed footed wading birds seemed to have walked upside down on the cloud ceiling.

Way in the dark south, racing in from the gulf, a group of boisterous grays roiled, climbing on top of each other as if playing king of the clouds. And when dominated, showing their frustration by flashes of heat lightning, illuminating not only their perimeters, but also the far off tree line.

“Think we be gettin’ rain, George?” Roscoe asked, watching the distant disturbance while carefully patting his rag tied wounded head.

“We sure need it. Good thing we got all the crops in. We’ve had a good year, Roscoe. When the rains come, cold weather will follow. We gotta get them fatted hogs in the smoke houses.”

“We gonna have a wagon done by Christmas; done got the hardware forged just waitin’ on this load for Ike. We gotta go to the iron mill; gotta get more stock. I done figured you be wantin’ us to build the wheels. Ya got plenty of bear grease?”

“More than enough and I figured come winter the carpenters will have time enough to draw the spokes and fit ‘em to the hubs and wheels so you can tire ‘em.”

Roscoe, as if lost in thought, said, “George...” He paused.

“Yeah Roscoe, somethin’ eatin’ on your mind?”

With a forlorn expression, Roscoe said, “That was the furst time a white man ever shake my hand. I don’t recall ever shakin’ inny man’s hand, not even a slave.”

With an skeptical expression, George asked, “Y’all don’t shake hands?”

“Naw sir, we jest hold a hand up like this, but we talk ‘bout it.”

“Y’all talk about shakin’ hands?” George asked, bewildered by the information.

“Yes sir, we watch y’all. If there be a woman, y’all take off your hat. If its white men y’all go to shakin’ hands and noddin’ your heads.”

The mental image caused George to smile. “Do y’all laugh at us?”

“If a slave laugh at a white man, he’ll get caned,” Roscoe said. Then he continued, “But, yes sir, we laugh atcha. If there ain’t no white folks around a slave’ll say, ‘Iz be white,’ and strut around lika tom turkey with der thumbs in der belt.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.