Chapter 2

I lay my head against the grass, the smell of gunpowder and lead floatin’ freely in the air and along the ground. Night had crept over the trees to the west and a cool breeze had been brought with it. With such a beautiful night, it only makes since that a bloody battlefield would be followin’ it so closely. I tried to ignore the screams, tried lookin’ up at the stars and the half moon, but nothin’ would block the cries out of my mind.

I missed my son. I missed listenin’ to him read to me, watchin’ him play underneath the old willow tree in the front yard. That was a long time ago, about ten years back, if I recall correctly.

Another scream pierced through the air.

He was so small then. He was a lot smaller than all of the other boys he played with. Hell, he was smaller than Zetti, John and Maryll’s girl. But you don’t know that story just yet.

The slave auction didn’t come around very often It was the second time it had been in town in three years and the plantation owners where in an uproar about it. It was held in town hall, which was bigger then than it was before I left. There was a stage set up on one half of the room and the other was where the crowd was waitin’ to bid on their favorite slaves. The room was hot and sticky, and there were a lot more people than there should’ve been. A man was standin’ on the stage; behind him, a family was strugglin’ to stay together. There was a black man and woman and their daughter.  

“ Heh, anyone darin’ enough to take three slaves at once? They’re a family, so you might have to do with a revolution in your backyard!” The auctioneer joked.

“ I’ll take them.” I yelled above the laughing crowd.

“ Pardon?” The auctioneer asked in shock.

“ I’ll take them.”

“ But James, you don’t even have a small farm! What d’you need them for?”

“ I got my reasons. I have work for them in my shop. We’re understaffed.”

“ Ah, don’t wanna pay anyone to do the job! I understand you! Bill, bring ‘em to me; I need to see how much they’re worth.”

The auctioneer paused and took a look at the small family. They looked ragged, and scared, but who wouldn’t be when they were put up for bid? The auctioneer turned around and looked at me.

“ Well, James, I reckon they’re worth $150. Fifty apiece, seem fair? If not, I can put them somewhere else.” The auctioneer said.

“ Done.” I replied.

“ Oh, and my boys need a new pair of pants each, could you throw that in the deal too?”

“ Again, done!”

I paid in cash and found out my new “slaves’” names; Maryll was the wife, John the husband, and Zetti was their seven-year-old daughter. The perfect age for Michael to have a friend. I took them home and explained to them what was goin’ on. They were shocked, but pleased. Michael and Zetti were real good friends from the beginnin’, and didn’t do anythin’ unless the other was doin’ it too.

It wasn’t two weeks after Zetti, John, and Maryll showed up before trouble started. In Kansas, there was a huge fight over slavery. Then John Brown sauntered in Harper’s Ferry, stirrin’ up trouble to no end.

Elizabeth told me at least a hundred times that if word of war came up at all, we were movin’ north, out of the hot zone. A lot of people were upset about the abolitionists freein’ slaves and such, and many worked their slaves harder than ever after hearin’ about it.  

It was quiet until Lincoln got elected in 1860. Then the people in the South felt that they had no say in the government anymore, and South Carolina seceded from the United States. That was when things began to happen.

On July 21, 1861, the battle of Manassas was fought. The Yankees were winnin’ at first, but as soon as Stonewall Jackson cut in, it was lost. McDowell was fired from the Union army, and Elizabeth told me it was time to move. By this time, Michael was 18 years old and old enough to decide where he wanted to be. I can still remember that argument.