Love and Slavery

“Love is the thing a little girl waits all of her life for and doesn’t want to let go of it once

She has caught it.”

 I grew up in southern Alabama during the slavery times. My momma always told me “Baby Girl, don’t let anyone tell you what to do with your life, and who you put in it, do with what you want with it,” but my momma passed away a while ago. Right after my momma passed my daddy bought a slave to do all the house work and such.

Her name is Marlene, and she has a son my age named John, who daddy made do any extra work he had, besides that he helped his momma in the house. Marlene was like a mother to me. She gave me all of my advice about life, and she was a good person to go to considering all of the things she’s been threw in her life time. I remember the day when daddy brought home Marlene and John. John was the shyest person I have ever met. Marlene on the other hand wasn’t shy at all, she’s been moved from house to house all of her life and has just got used to meeting new people. John has only been in one other house besides this one, but the old man they worked for before passed, so daddy said he would take them in.

Daddy treated them very well compared to some of the other slaves around here. While Daddy was at work I stayed home talking to Marlene, and sometimes even played the piano for her. Marlene likes it when I play for her, she always says “One day, you are going to be famous for those piano skills you got there.” Marlene said that when she was younger the house her mom worked at had a piano in the dining room. Marlene said she always wanted to learn how to play it, and that she’s glad that she has me to play for her.

Every evening before my father gets home and after John helps Marlene finish up around the house me and him would take a walk in the woods next to my house. We would just walk down the path and talk to each other about whatever we felt like at the time. I remember when I asked John if he thinks he could ever fall in love with a white women. His answer is the thing I go back to almost everyday before I go to sleep. “Mary, I think you or anybody should be able to do whatever they want. If I were to fall in love with a white women, then I will and I will let it be known.”

If my daddy were to know how I felt about John he would sell John and send him off to some horrible place. So I just decided I would rather have John here and not have my feelings plastered everywhere then to have them told and John be sent off, maybe even killed. You want to know how I know that. Daddy always said “Now, don’t go fallen in love with no black boy or I’ll have to kill ‘em.” One day Marlene had sent John out to the garden to pick the ready fruits and vegetables. I stayed in with her while I watched him out the back window. “Marlene?” I had said, “Do you think young people black or white should be able to be told who they can fall in love with?” Marlene always had a fair answer and normally it was always right too. “Honey, No I don’t, I don’t agree with a lot of this stuff that happens around here anymore. Us black folk being held as prisoners. But honey no, I think you should be able to fall in love with and spend the rest of your life with whomever you want.” I shook my head after listening to her last words and looked out the window at John again smiling. I think Marlene saw me and asked me “Honey, are you trying to tell me that you like my son out there?” I quick turned my head back towards her, and asked her “Why would you say that?” “Honey I be seeing the way you two youngins be looking at each other, baby it’s okay cause he already told me about you.” Right then I felt butterflies in my stomach and felt my throat dry up. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, if it was a good or bad thing. Later on that night after I went into my room, I laid in bed wondering what Marlene meant by that. I sure hoped it was something good, because I wouldn’t want John thinking badly of me. After a few more minutes I was sound asleep in my bed.

Reviews

[Kayja Symphious]

Hello Bree Lynn,
I noticed your writing in the "Write Me This..." contest, and I couldn't help but wonder why. There are prompts in the contest, and the writer must choose one. Then they must write a story based on the prompt they choose. Also, the title needs to have the prompt they chose in the title.

I've read this work and, though I like it, I'm not sure if it's right for the contest. If it is, I apologize.

That said, I like the subject you chose to write about. It seems this story could be expanded on. If you do so, this story will be great!

Thanks for the read,
- Kayja