Sunday, April 4, 2010

Did I ever?

Did i ever post my story i wrote? i don't think i did so here it is. Feel free to review it. Jourdan Dorrell
U.S. History D bloc
March 30 2009
Jacob Lawrence Paintings “Harriet and the Promise Land”
Through the Forest
Away into the Night
“Please, no, I just don’t feel good. I only was going to rest for a few seconds.” I say in complete desperation. I was standing with my head down, because I had been caught sitting in the cotton fields, taking a break from picking the cotton bolls. Farming cotton was hard and tedious work, and to add onto that, my allergies were acting up. “Now, if I let everyone just rest, Master Covington, would be out of business, because a better plantation would have better slaves working, and more to sell.” Mr. Jones says with complete venom. I blinked twice as he brought his worn leather whip over his shoulder, towards me. I stepped to the side, causing the weapon to slice my shoulder, instead of my chest. “Oh you shouldn’t have done that!” he said with an anger in his voice, that told me he was dangerous. He brought the whip down onto my back as I collapsed on the dirt ground. He brought the whip down again and again, cutting deep wounds in my back… If I could I have looked up, I would have seen him smile. Suddenly, I am overwhelmed with the feel of unmistakable shaking.
I open my eyes, and see a pair looking back into mind. After a few seconds, the blur of sleep leaves my vision. “Are you alright?” Harriett asks me. I lift my head a few inches and taking in my surroundings. Low ceilings, rotting wood floors and walls, and the slight dim light leaking in through cracks telling me it was early morning. I rest my head back upon my bed, which was only an old sheet folded in half. I was not in the fields, I was in the slave quarters. “I’m fine now, just a bad dream.” I reply with a wince. Any slight movement brought pain to my back. I had slept to see a bad dream, but the experience was real. Laying on my stomach, the cuts on my back were still fresh from yesterday. Harriett noticed. “Sorry to wake you honey, I couldn’t handle the scared look on your face, figured you were having a nightmare.” “I’m okay, thanks for watching over me.” Since the incident yesterday, she had been tending my wounds, trying to prevent as much as she could from getting infected. “Penelope, we have to stick together. You know that, as much as I do.”
I had just been bought by Master Covington when he came to Mississippi shop for slaves from his plantation in South Carolina, from Master Brown a few months ago. That day was the worst day of my life, My mama, my papa, Sarah, Delilah, and Jeremiah, my siblings, were all separated from me. Luckily enough, Harriett, another slave just a few years older than my fifteen, took me in and made me feel as at home as a slave can. Slavery is what I know, and all I know. I was born in the rotten cabin in a women’s quarter, in Mississippi. I have been working a minimum fourteen hour day since I was seven. I have been a slave all my life, but never had to bear such a flogging until now. “I know.”
“I have good news.” Harriett whispers to me in an urgent voice. “Tonight, we’re going. A conductor from the Underground Railroad is meeting us at the abandoned house a few miles from here. You know, the one with the broken windows.” I instantly recognized it. Many of the slave sung songs referring to it. In those song, they spoke of a “drinking gourd” or the north star. In this case, the abandoned house was the “haunted house”. "Yeah. I remember.” “Are you going to be able to handle it?” she asked me as I sat up, to get my clothes on. My dress was made of old cloth, and had holes on the shoulders and near the seams. “I have too. I can’t handle any more of this.” I motioned to the open wound on my back. I lifted my dress above my head and slid it down. When the fabric presses against my cuts, my eyes instantly formed tears, but I do not let them fall. I will not let them fall. “Let’s go.” Harriett says. “Since we’re up we might as get our food and start early. Better not give them anything to be suspicious about.” As we walked over to the pig trough, I gave Harriett a good look. She was beautiful, inside and out. She was tall, graceful, and knew what to say, and when to say it. She was the person I aim to be. She had a slight bump that was her stomach. She was expecting, she had told me. I predict a baby girl, with her mother’s green eyes, but she feels like it’s was going to be a boy. She doesn’t want her baby to be born into slavery, and will do anything to prevent it. And because Harriett is who she is, I will put my life on the line to make that happen for her, she deserves it.
We reach down into the trough where the overseers put the food, and pick up two piece of stale bread each, which we get every morning. I hand her my second piece, but she just curls my fingers over it. “You need it, sweetheart. We need you as strong as you can be tonight.” she whispers the last part. Since she told me about her pregnancy, I had been giving her half of my food. After all, she is eating for two. “You might want to save a bit for later too.” she adds. We walk away from the trough, and head towards the fields. We aren’t allowed to work together, so I won’t see her for several hours. We stop before we have to part ways. “ Tonight, we follow the drinking gourd, and find hope in the haunted house.” she sings to me in an angelic voice. She gives me a quick hug and turns to walk away. I wave at her back even though I know she cannot see me. I pick up my basket and start picking at the cotton bolls. I know I cannot sit in fear of a repeat of yesterday. I pick for a few hours before finally coming in hearing distance of another slave. “Tonight, we follow the drinking gourd, and find hope in the haunted house.” I sing. My voice quivers with exhaustion. Alexander, the other slave, nods at me, then smiles. I feel my cheeks heat up. Alexander was another slave my age, and I had seen him several times working in the fields, but never had we really spoken. He repeats the tune, and I hear the wonderful tone of his voice. It’s softness, almost as great as Harriett’s. I quickly flash him a smile, and continue down my aisle of cotton before Mr. Jones could accuse me of being off task. After a few more hours, and the sun is high in the sky, I hear a distinct sound of a bell, telling me it’s time for a food break. I walk back to the trough, and pick up two more piece of stale, which is this time soaked in sour milk. I eat greedily and get back to work.
By the time the sun is out of the sky, and a crescent moon is overhead, again the bell rings, to announce to end of the work day. The lump of bread in my pocket it tempting, but I know I might need it later in the night. My feet are soar with red blisters and are sensitive to the touch. I walked gingerly back to the quarters and happen to cross paths with Sophia, one of the elderly women who lived in the same quarters. “Tonight, we follow the drinking gourd, and find hope in the haunted house.” I sing to her slowly, clearly, and loud. A few years before I had arrived at the plantation, she had been caught eavesdropping on Master Covington, and was punished. They had cut off one of her ears, and poured salt onto it. It had become infected and she was nearly deaf. She looked at me in confusion, and I repeated my hymn. She then nodded at me and handed me a piece of fat. “No, it’s okay, you can keep it.” I respond to her. “You a growing girl, take it.” Sophia says with a strictness that you can only obey. I thank her and help her walk back to the quarters. I plan to give half of the fat to Harriett, and save the other for later.
We reach home and begin to prepare for the night. Harriett, comes toward my bed and whispers to me, “I will wake up when we are going. Go to sleep.” I was planning on staying awake, but knowing Harriett, she was two steps ahead of me, preparing me for the night. I was too tired to protest, knowing I needed the sleep. I undressed and lay on my stomach. Harriett, softly took off the piece of cloth, stiff with dried blood, that she had bandaged my back with. She quickly left then returned, with the same cloth slightly damped and cleaner, and retied to so it stuck to by back snugly. “Thank you.” I say with tears in my eyes, and a sob in my throat. What have I done to deserve the care and love from someone like her? I quickly blink away my tears and swallow my sob. I will never let anyone see me cry. “Goodnight.” she replies, and then she kisses my cheek before walking over to her bed on the opposite wall. I start up onto the ceiling, and let sleep come to me.
“It’s time.” I wake up to the voice of Harriett, and I sit up immediately. I don’t say anything but glance at Harriett, then put on my dress. I stand up and follow her. I as I walk toward the door, I see a few others getting reading for the travels ahead, but one I don’t see is Sophia. She was just sitting against the wall watching the few others prepare. “Harriett, wait one second.” I say. She looks at me then nods. I jog over to Sophia. “Aren’t you going?” I ask. She looks at me with a smile on her face. “No child. I am an old lady, and will probably die soon anyway. I just want to enjoy the rest of my days as long as I can. Don’t look sad, Penelope. I would just slow you guys down. We will see each other in the future, if not in this life, in heaven. Now, GO.” I look at her for a few seconds before giving her a tight hug, and whispering, “Goodbye,” in her ear. I back up slowly, before hurrying after Harriett through the door. We leave in pairs, stealthy through the shadows. Quickly, but silently, we duck underneath the gate, and run toward the nearest bushes, our black skin serving as camouflage. We run silently through the trees, and after a while, we see the abandoned house in view. There is a candle in the window, along with a quilt hung over the gate. We jump over the gate and quickly knock on the door three times. As it opens, I think, yes, we made it!
I look around and see many others in the small room. Gregory, and older slave, stands by the unlit fireplace, Rachel, sit on her mother, Georgia’s lap. Walter, her husband paces across the room in front of them. I smile as I see Alexander, standing in the corner, with his friend, Calvin, glancing at me. I am glad that he had decided to make the journey to the North. He deserves better than slavery. I look back at the new figure that open the door for us. It was a woman, who stood proud, and determined, and she was looking at Harriett and me. “I am Harriet Tubman. I am going to help you escape to the North. I am the “conductor” of this train.” She spoke with complete confidence, and I couldn’t help but trust her. Harriett spoke next. “I name is also Harriett and this is Penelope.” she motioned towards me. “We will do whatever we can to get to the Promise Land.” She smiles a wide smile and says, “Welcome.” We sat down, and waited for the other to arrive. I prayed that all that chose to come were safe. When we had waited long enough, and some others had arrived, Harriet Tubman explained our journey. “ We will travel through the trees, every once in a while changing direction or circling back around. This will help throw anyone who follows us of guard. For protection we will pair up. One man, one woman. Any children with be added to these group.” She then paired everyone up according to age and size. I was paired up with Alexander, while Harriett was paired up with Calvin. I was frightened to be separated from Harriett, but happy to be paired up with Alexander. “I will do everything to protect you, alright? Don’t worry, we’ll be free soon enough.” he told me with assurance. He then took my hand and held it in his big, callused one. We left immediately, and kept a several yards between each pair. We walked quickly through the trees, Alexander never letting go of my hand.
For a few days, the same routine happened. Alexander and I would walk all night, hand in hand, following the others. During the day, we would hide in a safe house, and sleep. We would then awake, and repeat. Food was scarce, but we were used to those situations. We had a few scares with Slave Catchers. They were huge white men, with blood hounds that would go out and look for slaves. They were mean, and ruthless, with a taste for terror. Master Covington, must have found out of our escape, and had them searching for us. There were close on our trails, and we were instructed to make more difficult loops and paths to get the Catchers and their hounds confused. We still tread on, and walked on, because freedom was almost in our grasp. Alexander and I had gotten to know each other better, having spent all of our days together. He was very protective, and wouldn’t let me out of his sight. He held me, when he heard a suspicious noise, putting himself between me and danger. When I would have nightmares, he would wake me up, and then sing me back into a dreamless sleep. His when I would worry about anything, from my family, to the dangers laying ahead, or the ones following us, he would just smile, and all my worries would fade. One night, we were silent, enjoying the wilderness of the beautiful forest around us. We slowed down and were at the back of the pack. There was a stream ahead, one that others in front of us were crossing and that we would have to. Harriet Tubman stood silently, herding everyone in the right direction. Our skin as slaves were so dark that in the night we were almost invisible. We was as black as the night. Squirrels and owls danced on the trees above, while deer graze on the forest grasses. The tree shot straight up, green, orange, yellow leaves, hanging off their branches, into the sky, where the north star sat, leading our way to freedom.
All of a sudden there was a cracking of leaves behind us. “It’s probably just a squirrel.” Alexander commented, for he had heard the noise too, but non the less, put himself between me and the sound. I screamed as saw what emerged from the darkness of the trees. A hound came bounding through, barking with an evil glint in it’s eye. Alexander looked at me and yell, “RUN!” We both sprinted through the trees, but it was enough. The large dog, bit Alexander on the leg as he hollered out in pain. Calvin, who was a few yards ahead of us turned and ran toward us to help. The vicious monster, took another bite at Alexander, attacking his chest. He screamed in agony, as his clothing turned red with blood. The hound, kept biting, cutting, piercing, killing Alexander. Calvin who had finally reach us, took out his pocket knife and attacked the dog, until he lay limp on the ground. Alexander looked at me with a weakness in his eyes, and whispered, “I loved you.” I felt tears well up in my eyes, and unlike the other times, I let them fall. I said desperately with a sob, “No, NO, your going to be fine. Your going to be free with me, and Calvin, and Harriett, and we’re going to get to the North, and your going to live a great life. Stay with me… Stay with me.” He smiled but I could see the life being pushed out of his eyes. He had lost to much blood already. I was sobbing, with all the tears that had been dammed up spilling over. I kissed him gently on the lips, and then he breathed, “Thank you.” His eyes faded closed and his chest stop rising. . I put my head on his chest, not caring whether his blood got on my clothes. By now, Harriett had reached us, and Calvin and she were watching the scene at hand, but I didn’t care. After a few minutes, Harriett, touched my shoulder. “We need to go, they will be catching up soon. Come on, honey.” I lifted my head, and glance at Alexander. I stood up, turned, and without looking back, I followed the drinking gourd. Followed it until I was safe, until I knew that Alexander would rest in peace knowing I was free.


The ending kind of sucked, but i needed to end it. It was too long already, and i was running out of time.} 


1 comment:

Strawberry said...

YOU'RE FINALLY BACK!!!!

OHMYGOD, I LOVE this layout. Love it. It's super pretty.

I don't feel the need to comment on the story since I've already read/commented on it :)