The Price of Freedom (2 page)

Efficiently unraveling her long
plait which fell past her shoulders, she pulled a brush hastily through the
soft brown waves and plaited it again, piling it on her head and wrapping it in
a large handkerchief before heading to the kitchen to help with the
breakfast. 

“Good morning, Master Thomas,”
said Deborah, putting his plate of eggs, fried pork and fried plantain in front
of him.

“Good morning Deborah,” he
answered with a warm smile. “Happy birthday,” he said handing her a small
beaded purse that felt quite heavy.

 “Thank you, Master,” she
said, slipping the gift into her pocket to examine later. Deborah was surprised
that he had remembered her birthday, but maybe her mother had told him. In any
case the birth of all slaves on the plantation were recorded so he may have
come across it as he was adding in the new one that had been born that week.

"Your mother told me she made
a dress for your birthday with some material that I gave her. Did you like
it?"

"Yes, master. Thank
you." Deborah was surprised that he and her mother talked about such
things. She had not thought that they talked at all.

Thomas Edwards was a tall,
handsome man in his early fifties with short thick hair almost the same brown
as Deborah’s, although it was now sprinkled with grey. He was still very fit
and
trim
from his active involvement on the
plantation. It was one of the largest in Barbados covering over 500 acres, of
which more than half was planted with the precious
Muscovado
sugar that had made the island rich.  His father had visited Barbados and
purchased the plantation in the 50’s and returned to England, appointing a
manager to run it.

For several years it appeared to
be doing well but within twenty years the plantation was struggling under a
heavy burden of debt and on his father’s death he had moved to Barbados to run
it himself.  It was then he discovered that the manager had mismanaged the
property and had absconded with much of the profits.

He had to sell off most of the
slaves and servants and start afresh, running the plantation with a minimal
amount of labor until it began to prosper again and he was able to increase his
slaveholding and now had two overseers to help him. To diversify his
investments he had invested in a ship with two other planters and he had
recently started distilling rum.

William came in a few minutes
later, followed by the mistress and the two girls. Deborah was surprised to see
the women at breakfast so early. They were dressed in fancy clothes so she
assumed they were going out. 

Looking up as the women came in,
Thomas absently noted that they were dressed attractively for the day but they
paled in comparison to Deborah, with her beautiful olive skin and exotic looks.

“I will let the cook know that
you’re ready for breakfast,” offered Deborah heading out to the kitchen and
giving William a wide berth. His eyes followed her as she left the room.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten that
we had planned to go into Town today,” Elizabeth said to her husband taking her
place at the table. “We will take Cassie and Jethro.” 

“This is not the best time to take
staff into town.  You know that we’re in the midst of harvest. You should
take Deborah instead.  It’s her birthday.”

“It is?  Then the last thing
she would want to be doing on her birthday is traipsing all through Town
carrying parcels for us,” said the mistress dismissively as Deborah returned
carrying three plates on a tray.

“I didn’t know it was your
birthday,” said William lazily, looking her up and down. She quickly looked at
the master who must have mentioned it to them but he was eating his
breakfast. 

“Happy birthday, Deborah,” said
the girls. “We’ll get you something in town.”

“Thank you.” She noticed that the
mistress seemed to begrudge offering her even a birthday greeting and had
started on her breakfast without comment.

“How old are you now?”William
asked, as if he didn’t know that she was a year younger than Rachel.

“Sixteen,” she answered shortly.

“You’re all grown up.” He smiled
in a satisfied sort of way, which made her skin crawl. His father gave him a
hard look which he ignored. William didn’t care how he looked at him; nothing
would stop him from sampling the delectable slave girl who was now serving him.

July 1694

Deborah was surprised to see that
only the ladies of the house were at dinner. She and Cassie were instructed to
put the dishes on the table so that they could serve themselves and informed
that the master had gone to Town on business and was spending the night
there.  She assumed that William had gone with him and she was relieved
that she would have peace tonight from his prying eyes.

Returning from the kitchen with a
light step, carrying a platter of baked chicken and one of cassava cakes, she
set them on the table with the other dishes and turned to go.

“Enjoy the meal, mistress,” she
offered generously.

"Thank you Deborah. William is
not feeling well this evening. Make one of your teas for headache and take it
and his dinner to his room for him," Elizabeth instructed her.

Deborah often used plants that she
grew or that were bought in Town to treat minor illnesses. She’d never had to
treat William for any illness. He was never sick. It was clearly a way to get
her alone.  Didn’t his mother realize that?  Perhaps she knew what he
planned and didn’t care; after all William always got what he wanted and he
wanted her.

He was obviously tired of playing
with her and was ready to taste “the dessert”, as he had said at dinner a few
weeks ago.

"I can take it,
mistress," offered Cassie. She knew that William had his eyes on Deborah
and wanted to protect her. She had experienced what it was to lose her
innocence, having been violated by another master when she was just fifteen.

“No. He asked specifically for
Deborah,” Elizabeth stated and that was that.  She didn’t expect any
further discussion.

“Yes, ma’am,” agreed Cassie
casting a sympathetic glance at Deborah.  Deborah’s silence and the
narrowing of her eyes, spoke loudly of her rebellion at the idea.

Returning to the kitchen on leaden
feet she asked the sweating cook to prepare a tray for William while she got
the leaves to make the tea. She knew that he didn’t really have a headache but
she would play along. She looked around for her mother, and was relieved to see
that she was not there; she was probably still ironing the clothes that had
been washed that day. At least she would be spared the anguish of knowing where
she was going.

Heart beating like one of the
drums that were now forbidden to the slaves, she took the tray and made her way
up the stairs to his room which was at the far end of the hall.

Balancing it in one hand, she
knocked and heard him command her to come in.  Her hand shook on the knob
as she opened the door. She hated herself for that show of weakness.

“Deborah, what took you so
long?  I’ve been waiting for you.”  He certainly didn’t look sick to
her as he sat up in his four poster bed with his bare feet crossed at the
ankles, wearing a robe.

“Bring the tray over here and
close the door behind you.” She hesitated a few seconds as she deliberated on
whether or not to obey him. Calculating the distance between the bed and the
door she knew that if she took the tray she couldn’t get away before he got to
her.

“I’m waiting,” he added, “and I
don’t like to wait.”

Her breathing rapidly increased as
panic began to overtake her.  She knew that unless some miracle happened
he would have her and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Moving like molasses she inched
toward the bedside table, keeping him in her sight through the corner of her
eye and holding the tray in front of her protectively as if it could be any defense
against him.

She put down the tray and turned
quickly towards the door.  She was halfway across the room and to freedom
when she felt, more than saw, the movement as William sprang from the bed and
caught her around her waist, dragging her back against him with her head
against his shoulder.

She stiffened up like a corpse as
she felt his arousal.

“You didn’t really think I would
let you go, did you?” he taunted softly.

He pulled the handkerchief off her
head and her long plait cascaded over the front of one shoulder to her
bosom. 

“Undo it!” He commanded. She
hesitated and his hand tightened warningly around her waist until she complied
with shaking hands.

Pushing the soft waves aside, he
kissed her neck and slipped his hand into the neckline of her dress. She
trembled in fright and could hear her teeth start to chatter.

“Beautiful,” he praised. “And mine
to do with as I please.”

“P…please, William.” She hated
herself for begging. “Let me go.”

“That’s Master William to you. Let
you go?” he scoffed. “Why would I do that when I’ve waited for this for
weeks?”  He laughed as he carried her over to the bed and dropped her onto
it. Some distant part of her mind briefly noticed the softness of the mattress
that contrasted with the hard pallet that she slept on. 

She immediately tried to scramble
off the other side but he caught her by one foot and dragged her back.  As
she struggled to break free he held her with one hand and pulled back the other
to strike her.  Deborah twisted her head away to protect her face as she
braced herself for the blow, but it never came.  Instead he tossed her
back on the bed and threw himself on top of her, covering her mouth with his
hand to silence her as she opened her mouth to scream.

She pushed at his shoulders and
tried to buck him off but he was much stronger than she was.  He rolled
slightly to the side so that he could pull her skirt up to her waist baring her
before quickly pinning her thrashing her legs down with one of his.

 “Don’t do this!” she cried
wrenching her mouth from beneath his hand.  “This is wrong!  I’m your
sister!”

“You’re not my sister. 
You’re my slave,” he taunted, pulling apart his robe.  He wasted no time
with preliminaries and she soon felt pain rip through her body as he tore her
innocence from her and changed her life forever.

Silent tears ran down her face
even as anger and hatred took root, hardening her heart and she swore to
herself that she would die before she let another man violate her again.

Sarah finished the ironing and
came back to the kitchen.

“
Wuhloss
,
I glad to get through that pile of clothes,” she said tiredly. She was greeted
with silence and the awkward shuffling of the house slaves.

“Something happened?” she asked as
she felt a prickle of alarm.

“The mistress said that Master
William was sick and he asked for Deborah to bring a tray to his room,” Cassie
answered. “She didn’t come back down,” she added quietly.

Sarah bent over, wrapping her
hands around her waist, as grief and anger swept through her with the force of
a hurricane. She knew, without anyone telling her, what that meant. 
Hatred rose up in her for William for stealing her child’s innocence and for
the very life that they had been born into. She hated that it made her
powerless to protect her child.

She put a hand over her mouth to
hold back the wail that was rising in her throat and ran out to their hut where
she found  Deborah lying on her pallet with her back to the door and her
knees drawn up to her chest.

“Deborah?” Sarah said quietly,
sitting down next to her and gently touching her shoulder.  Deborah turned
over and Sarah briefly saw her face that was red from shame and from crying,
before she threw herself into her arms and began to weep afresh.

“I’m so sorry child. 
So sorry that this happened.
I’m going to talk to Master
Thomas when he comes home tomorrow and tell him what that boy did to
you.”  She stroked Deborah’s hair comfortingly, even as tears streamed
from her own eyes.

“I told him that I was his sister
but he wouldn’t listen!” Deborah cried. “I hate him so much I could kill him!”

“
Sh
,
don’t let anybody hear you saying that girl! Don’t
worry,
I will talk to Master Thomas. I will talk to Master Thomas.”

Deborah let her go on, but she
really didn’t hold out any hope. It was going to be up to her to do something
because she couldn’t live this way anymore. She was the master’s
property!  He could leave her in his will to William; he could sell her if
he wanted to; his family could do whatever they wanted to her because they
owned her.  How could that be right? She was a person. She had a soul and
her soul cried out for freedom, whatever the cost.

Thomas sat at his desk and opened
a ledger.  He and one of the overseers had left Town at nine that morning
and had just got back to the plantation with five new slaves. Jethro, the
carpenter who also helped around the house, had driven the cart, but he was
tired from the long, bumpy drive and he didn’t feel like dealing with the books
but he had to make a record of the new slaves they had just bought.

The door flew open with force, bringing
his head up sharply to reprimand whoever had dared to come into his office
without permission.  When he saw that the uninvited visitor was a very
distraught Sarah, he held his peace. 

“What’s happened Sarah?” he asked
getting out of his chair and coming around to grasp her shoulders.  “Has
something happened to Deborah?”

“Yes, something happened to
Deborah!  William raped her last night.  He waited until you had left
the plantation and told the mistress he was sick and he wanted Deborah to bring
a tray to his room and he raped my child.”  She began to weep.

Thomas fought against the rage
that rose up in him. He had warned William not two weeks ago to stay away from
Deborah and he couldn’t believe that he had blatantly ignored his orders. The
boy had gone too far. He was putting him on the next boat to England. 
Perhaps he would learn some civilized behavior from his English kin.

“I will deal with William. 
There is a boat sailing to England in the next few days.  I’m going to
make sure that he’s on it. A few years in England may do him good.”

“You would do that Master
Thomas?  Oh, thank you, thank you.  Deborah will be so glad to hear
that.”

Thomas nodded, distractedly. 
Telling Sarah was the easy part.  Dealing with William and Elizabeth
wouldn’t be that easy.

When Sarah left, Thomas returned
to his leather chair and sank down into it, holding his head in his
hands.  When his son should be looking to get more involved in the
plantation, all he was doing was wasting his life away.

When he was in town he had found
out the extent to which William had been drinking and gambling.  He owed
some of the tavern owners a lot of money. This was the last straw. He wasn’t
working so hard for William to gamble away everything and now he had dared to
violate Deborah although he had been warned to stay away from her.

He pulled out a piece of parchment
and dipped his quill in ink and began a letter to his uncle in England.
Unfortunately the only notice his uncle would have that William was coming was
when he was presented the letter by William himself.  He only hoped that
he wouldn’t put him on the next boat back.

Looking out the window, he saw
William riding into the yard and shouted through the window for him to come
into the office.

Belligerence was like a cloak on
William as he walked through the door.

“You wanted me?” 

“Why the hell did you take Deborah
to your bed last night?  You could have had your pick of any of the other
slave girls!”  Thomas didn’t waste time in getting to the point.

“Why should you care?  Were
you saving her for yourself?” His son sneered.  In two seconds his father
was on his feet and had delivered a blow to his insolent face. For a moment,
William looked as if he would strike him in return but he managed to restrain
himself.

“I don’t sleep with my offspring,”
Thomas snarled. “And neither should you.”