Mosana - Part XII
EPISODE 12
I stood in what l assumed was the parlour as I waited, as per Master Wells’ instructions. I had not been allowed to hang my coat in the entryway, and so I held it in my hands as I waited. I hadn’t even been allowed to sit, even though I was surrounded by empty chairs. I wanted to cry, but decided it would be best not to shed my tears then. I would cry later. Right then, I had to see the day to the end.
I waited and waited until I began to contemplate whether to sit on one of the chairs or not. I was just about to risk it when Mr. Wells walked in with someone behind. I didn’t need to be told that she was the mistress of the house. She walked with a superior air like she expected all living things to bow before her. I almost did, in fact. Her presence was that compelling. I instantly disliked her.
‘Madam Russell,’ Wells announced in a grand voice. ‘Mistress of the manor.’
He didn’t bother to introduce me. Not that I needed any introducing.
Madam Russell looked me up and down the way one would inspect meat in the market. After turning her nose disdainfully in my direction, she uttered one word, ‘Adequate.’ Then she turned and went back the way she had come. Wells then called out for someone else and rapped his hands twice.
‘Flint!’
A young boy, no, a man, came out of nowhere and appeared before Wells, his back as straight as a rod. He looked like a boy, but when I looked at his face closely, I saw that he must have been a few years older than I was. I put his age to be about 24. He was black.
‘Show her to the appropriate quarters. Show her how things work here too; she is to begin work immediately, and any slack will be on your head. Understood?’
‘Yes sir, Master Wells, sir!’
‘Off with you both now.’
Flint turned to me and nodded. I followed him out of the parlour with Wells’ eyes on me. The moment we stepped out of the huge house, Flint began talking.
‘Hi, I’m Flint.’ I noticed his white teeth immediately.
But I said nothing and he continued talking.
‘That was Master Wells, the butler. More like second-in-command in this place. This is the Russell Manor, richest family for miles around. They own the most number of slaves this side of America.’ He stopped talking to wave his hands around, a gesture that was meant to capture the entire land.
‘There’s a farm behind the house; you’ll work there, or wherever you’re needed, actually. It all depends on the Mistress’ wishes.’
‘Are you like my boss or something?’ I asked. By now we were in a block of buildings that were significantly lower in grade than the mansion we had just come out of. Flint sarcastically introduced it as the servants’ quarters. I almost laughed at the word he used, “servant”. For God’s sakes, we were worse than servants. Between the mansion and the slave quarters was the farm. It was huge. We had to take already established paths through the farm to get through. We couldn’t go around it.
He looked at me and smiled. ‘Yeah, kinda. You answer to me, and I answer to Master Wells. So you gotta learn fast, aiit?’
I soon found out that Flint was in charge of a lot of us. Mostly teenagers and adolescents. The older slaves were under Master Wells directly, and they were few. The Mistress of the Manor preferred flexible, energetic youth as slaves. So Flint was like a foreman or a taskmaster, only he took on tasks too. He also took me under his wings and made sure I didn’t make mistakes. He looked out for me.
I was soon inducted into the family. By family, I mean the union of slaves in the Russell Manor. We were all different shades of black, but shared a common home, Africa. There I met Flint’s sisters, Mag and Mel, short for Margaret and Melinda. I met Old Mr. Fisher, ever jovial, full of songs. I met hot-headed Gabe, who always had to rely on Flint’s common sense to get out of scrapes. I met quiet Judy, who was hard to figure out. She was always alone and barely spoke. Flint always told me to give her her space anytime I asked about her.
As long as you did your duties in the Manor, you stayed out of trouble. But there were sins and there were punishments. I watched Flint get flogged for my sake the day I forgot to fluff up the pillows after I had cleaned Amy’s room. Amy Russell was the Mistress’ daughter. She was… well, she was different from her mother. I saw Harvey, a stout 16-year old, go without his meals for three days straight. I saw Tina, a tall, lanky girl get almost bludgeoned to death by Madam Russell because she added more than the regular amount of sugar in the Madam’s tea.
In all this, I learned quickly from Flint that it was better to keep your mouth shut. Talking or arguing or even trying to defend yourself could cost you your life. So I held my tongue and took the beatings, while saying ‘yes, ma’am.’ I studied Mrs. Russell well, and soon, by my third month in the manor, the beatings had reduced. Not because she suddenly developed love for me, but because I had learnt the ropes and knew how not to get in trouble.
‘Where are we anyway?’ I asked Flint one day.
He looked at me like I had grown an extra head. ‘You don’t know?’
‘Pennsylvania?’ I asked tentatively, already guessing I was wrong. We had driven too far to still be in Pennsylvania.
Flint burst out laughing. ‘Pennsyl-wha? Girl, we are miles away from any free state. We’re in Virginia.’
A cold current ran through me. Marc had sold me far away. Of course, I wouldn’t have been sold to any free state, where slavery was banned. But could Marc do that? I was in a free state when he sold me. Surely that was illegal. I could report to the authorities or something. I could-
‘Where are you from?’ Flint asked me.
‘Philadelphia, in Pennsylvania,’ I told him.
This time, his eyes went wide and he looked at me like I’d grown tentacles in addition to the extra head.
‘What?!’
We were in the store room rearranging supplies for the winter for the tenth time in case Madam came to inspect. Flint grabbed me by the arms and spoke into my face.
‘You’re from Pennsylvania?’
‘Y-Yes,’ I said.
‘You’re from the best free state in all of U.S?’ This time I didn’t answer him. I was trying to work out what he was so excited about.
‘How come you’re here then?’ he asked again.
‘I was sold,’ I answered.
‘Sold? You do know Pennsylvania’s a free state, right?’
‘Yes, I know. But I was sold without my knowledge.’
‘You mean without your consent.’
‘No, without my knowledge. I didn’t know I was being sold. I thought I was coming for factory work.’
Then I told him. I told Flint of how I ran away from England to Marc and how the bastard had slyly sold me into slavery. He believed me.
‘That’s definitely illegal,’ he said.
I knew it! I shouted excitedly in my heart.
‘But there’s nothing you can do,’ Flint continued, immediately dampening my spirits. ‘Even if you manage to get the authorities down here and lodge a complaint, there’s no way you could win against the Russells. They are highly influential, I repeat, very powerful people around here and you’ll only do yourself a world of harm to go against them.’
When he saw the look on my face, he didn’t go soft as I expected. Instead, his voice took on a stern tone and he looked me directly in the eyes. He wanted to make sure I got the message.
‘I suggest you stay put, Mosana. They have the power to turn everyone against you. We are slaves here. Not cooks, not butlers, not guards. Slaves. Understand?’
I swallowed my fear and replied, ‘Yes. But not forever.’
That’s when he smiled. ‘That’s the spirit. Now you understand. Our time will come, Mo. Our time will come.’
I stood in what l assumed was the parlour as I waited, as per Master Wells’ instructions. I had not been allowed to hang my coat in the entryway, and so I held it in my hands as I waited. I hadn’t even been allowed to sit, even though I was surrounded by empty chairs. I wanted to cry, but decided it would be best not to shed my tears then. I would cry later. Right then, I had to see the day to the end.
I waited and waited until I began to contemplate whether to sit on one of the chairs or not. I was just about to risk it when Mr. Wells walked in with someone behind. I didn’t need to be told that she was the mistress of the house. She walked with a superior air like she expected all living things to bow before her. I almost did, in fact. Her presence was that compelling. I instantly disliked her.
‘Madam Russell,’ Wells announced in a grand voice. ‘Mistress of the manor.’
He didn’t bother to introduce me. Not that I needed any introducing.
Madam Russell looked me up and down the way one would inspect meat in the market. After turning her nose disdainfully in my direction, she uttered one word, ‘Adequate.’ Then she turned and went back the way she had come. Wells then called out for someone else and rapped his hands twice.
‘Flint!’
A young boy, no, a man, came out of nowhere and appeared before Wells, his back as straight as a rod. He looked like a boy, but when I looked at his face closely, I saw that he must have been a few years older than I was. I put his age to be about 24. He was black.
‘Show her to the appropriate quarters. Show her how things work here too; she is to begin work immediately, and any slack will be on your head. Understood?’
‘Yes sir, Master Wells, sir!’
‘Off with you both now.’
Flint turned to me and nodded. I followed him out of the parlour with Wells’ eyes on me. The moment we stepped out of the huge house, Flint began talking.
‘Hi, I’m Flint.’ I noticed his white teeth immediately.
But I said nothing and he continued talking.
‘That was Master Wells, the butler. More like second-in-command in this place. This is the Russell Manor, richest family for miles around. They own the most number of slaves this side of America.’ He stopped talking to wave his hands around, a gesture that was meant to capture the entire land.
‘There’s a farm behind the house; you’ll work there, or wherever you’re needed, actually. It all depends on the Mistress’ wishes.’
‘Are you like my boss or something?’ I asked. By now we were in a block of buildings that were significantly lower in grade than the mansion we had just come out of. Flint sarcastically introduced it as the servants’ quarters. I almost laughed at the word he used, “servant”. For God’s sakes, we were worse than servants. Between the mansion and the slave quarters was the farm. It was huge. We had to take already established paths through the farm to get through. We couldn’t go around it.
He looked at me and smiled. ‘Yeah, kinda. You answer to me, and I answer to Master Wells. So you gotta learn fast, aiit?’
I soon found out that Flint was in charge of a lot of us. Mostly teenagers and adolescents. The older slaves were under Master Wells directly, and they were few. The Mistress of the Manor preferred flexible, energetic youth as slaves. So Flint was like a foreman or a taskmaster, only he took on tasks too. He also took me under his wings and made sure I didn’t make mistakes. He looked out for me.
I was soon inducted into the family. By family, I mean the union of slaves in the Russell Manor. We were all different shades of black, but shared a common home, Africa. There I met Flint’s sisters, Mag and Mel, short for Margaret and Melinda. I met Old Mr. Fisher, ever jovial, full of songs. I met hot-headed Gabe, who always had to rely on Flint’s common sense to get out of scrapes. I met quiet Judy, who was hard to figure out. She was always alone and barely spoke. Flint always told me to give her her space anytime I asked about her.
As long as you did your duties in the Manor, you stayed out of trouble. But there were sins and there were punishments. I watched Flint get flogged for my sake the day I forgot to fluff up the pillows after I had cleaned Amy’s room. Amy Russell was the Mistress’ daughter. She was… well, she was different from her mother. I saw Harvey, a stout 16-year old, go without his meals for three days straight. I saw Tina, a tall, lanky girl get almost bludgeoned to death by Madam Russell because she added more than the regular amount of sugar in the Madam’s tea.
In all this, I learned quickly from Flint that it was better to keep your mouth shut. Talking or arguing or even trying to defend yourself could cost you your life. So I held my tongue and took the beatings, while saying ‘yes, ma’am.’ I studied Mrs. Russell well, and soon, by my third month in the manor, the beatings had reduced. Not because she suddenly developed love for me, but because I had learnt the ropes and knew how not to get in trouble.
‘Where are we anyway?’ I asked Flint one day.
He looked at me like I had grown an extra head. ‘You don’t know?’
‘Pennsylvania?’ I asked tentatively, already guessing I was wrong. We had driven too far to still be in Pennsylvania.
Flint burst out laughing. ‘Pennsyl-wha? Girl, we are miles away from any free state. We’re in Virginia.’
A cold current ran through me. Marc had sold me far away. Of course, I wouldn’t have been sold to any free state, where slavery was banned. But could Marc do that? I was in a free state when he sold me. Surely that was illegal. I could report to the authorities or something. I could-
‘Where are you from?’ Flint asked me.
‘Philadelphia, in Pennsylvania,’ I told him.
This time, his eyes went wide and he looked at me like I’d grown tentacles in addition to the extra head.
‘What?!’
We were in the store room rearranging supplies for the winter for the tenth time in case Madam came to inspect. Flint grabbed me by the arms and spoke into my face.
‘You’re from Pennsylvania?’
‘Y-Yes,’ I said.
‘You’re from the best free state in all of U.S?’ This time I didn’t answer him. I was trying to work out what he was so excited about.
‘How come you’re here then?’ he asked again.
‘I was sold,’ I answered.
‘Sold? You do know Pennsylvania’s a free state, right?’
‘Yes, I know. But I was sold without my knowledge.’
‘You mean without your consent.’
‘No, without my knowledge. I didn’t know I was being sold. I thought I was coming for factory work.’
Then I told him. I told Flint of how I ran away from England to Marc and how the bastard had slyly sold me into slavery. He believed me.
‘That’s definitely illegal,’ he said.
I knew it! I shouted excitedly in my heart.
‘But there’s nothing you can do,’ Flint continued, immediately dampening my spirits. ‘Even if you manage to get the authorities down here and lodge a complaint, there’s no way you could win against the Russells. They are highly influential, I repeat, very powerful people around here and you’ll only do yourself a world of harm to go against them.’
When he saw the look on my face, he didn’t go soft as I expected. Instead, his voice took on a stern tone and he looked me directly in the eyes. He wanted to make sure I got the message.
‘I suggest you stay put, Mosana. They have the power to turn everyone against you. We are slaves here. Not cooks, not butlers, not guards. Slaves. Understand?’
I swallowed my fear and replied, ‘Yes. But not forever.’
That’s when he smiled. ‘That’s the spirit. Now you understand. Our time will come, Mo. Our time will come.’
________________________________
Bleeeeeggrhhh!
Hey you!
Feels like a filler chapter. But absolutely necessary, believe me. Each episode is just a piece of the whole puzzle. So read on!
Till next Sunday,
(Happy Resumption Sunday, by the way ;D)
xoxo,
Ava.
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