Freedom Dues by Indra Zuno

Author:Indra Zuno
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: white slavery, maryland, philadelphia, fiction adult, indentured servitude, history 1700s, scots irish, ulster scots, girl character, 1700s america
Publisher: Indra Zuno

Chapter Thirteen

May 4, 1730

Weeding time had arrived; extra hands were needed in the fields, and Mallie and Ellery had been recruited. As Mallie was led to the field, she saw five long wooden planks set across the width of five tobacco beds. Two short legs at the end of each plank made them slant. Sitting on the planks, the field hands reached down and pulled weeds. To her dismay, Jason ordered her to climb on a plank already occupied by Derby. For eleven hours his hostility radiated like heat from an oven, competing with the sizzling sun. Mallie groaned and stretched her back. She had by turns lain on one side and then the other, sat with legs stretched in front of her, then with knees bent, and still her legs felt numb.

She kept track of the sun’s path, willing it to disappear beyond the horizon. The horn finally blew, and the workers trudged to the edges of the field. She turned in the direction of the kitchen and accidentally stepped into Derby’s path. Before she could sidestep him, without hesitation or warning, he slapped her. She gasped, bringing her hands protectively to her face. She cringed when he reached out and peeled one of her hands away. He plucked something off her cheek and showed her: a mosquito. She brushed her cheek with her sleeve and began to thank Derby, but he had already turned and walked away.

#

May 8, 1730

All except one of Groom’s guests were gone. Flora, his black servant girl, had started picking up empty glasses and dirty ashtrays. Blair kept his back to her, waiting to get paid, while she worked in complete silence.

“Flora,” Groom said after giving Blair his money, “please give Blair the bread that’s in the kitchen. I’m walking Mr. Lynn to the stables. Blair, I’ll see you in two weeks.”

“Aye, sir. Thank ye for the bread.” Blair paced around the room, waiting for Flora, and sighed dejectedly. After being knocked unconscious during the fire the previous month, he had missed his meeting with Thomas Burt, and Blair had been unable to ascertain where he might be. A flash of something red under a chair caught Blair’s attention. He crouched down to look and found it was a snuffbox. He picked it up just as Flora returned.

“That belong to Mr. Lynn,” she said.

“I’ll take it tae him,” Blair said, running out the door. When he reached the end of the block, the stable boy was standing on a bale of hay, looking in through one of the stable windows.

“What are ye doing?” Blair asked.

“Shush!” the boy whispered, smiling wickedly. “Take a look.” He jumped to the ground, and Blair, intrigued, climbed up the bale. Groom and Lynn were standing close—much too close—to each other. Lynn held Groom’s arm firmly, saying something that was inaudible. Groom looked nervously toward the door.

“Did ye hear them arguing?” Blair asked.

“Just wait!”

Lynn tightened his grip. His words, whatever they were, seemed to become more fervent. Blair tensed, alert to the moment when Lynn might strike at Groom or otherwise attempt to harm him.

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