Aurel

four

The sun rose and it set. The moon shined her light and she faded away, providing the way for the sun once again. And he...he had turned into an animal. A pitiful animal chained to the body of the woman who laid under him. Time and time again, over and over, he surrendered to the selfish appetite he had for her. With his body, he claimed her, pleasure choking the very life from him. Her thighs, her hands, her mouth, her breasts held him in slavery and he didn't want to be free. What worlds had been opened to him as he sought for more, dived for more. What maddening, never-ending, pleasure blinded him. One night wasn't enough. It dared never be enough. He had known when she'd left that he'd call again. He would demand her presence again. And so, he did. And, she came.

How he'd changed under her touch and care. In the fields, dusk clinging to the sky, trembling breath and heaving hips, voice, noise, silence, passion most ardently appearing between their mouths and bodies. Surrendering to climax, her greatest request, was one said in the throes of insanity. At first, he hadn't paid any attention to it. But the more she said it, the more he felt inclined to give it to her. Give me a son. Lips carried declarations of love and freedom, a life away from the hell she was enslaved to. Free me. Make me yours for real. Not just here hiding in the sugar cane. Foolish to utter, foolish to dream, but in air, his mouth against her own, he swore to make it reality. His heart had been so full, thoughts and emotions spinning out of control.

Each time they met, he always left a deposit of his affection inside of her, hoping and praying that when it grew into something beautiful, she'd be free enough to enjoy it with him. Together. Their lover's tale continued well into the next two months and as his time there drew to a close, she revealed to him that she was with child. It was entirely too early to see any such signs but she was confident that with time, she would begin to show. When she'd told him, he had felt so many things. Fear. Worry. A little bit of uncertainty. But a big part of him felt excited.

***

She had rose early, as she always did. Slipping away from his arms, she soon got up and stood. The moon had been high and full the night previously and she could feel a tossing in her stomach. Like angry waves that crashed against the shore, they had woken her up out of her sleep. She didn't make it a habit, looking into the mirror in his room. She never much had time for that. But this morning, while he still slept, she took the time to really observe herself. Staring at her reflection, she gently examined her breasts, tender and bruised with love marks. Further down, she pressed flat palms against her stomach. It was too soon to tell but having been pregnant before and having given birth, the feeling in her body was familiar. There appeared no change, flat and muscular flesh lay underneath her fingertips. Hm. She'd have February inspect her.

In the silence of the morning, she dressed and left him, closing the door as quietly as she could muster. The Big House was eerie when it was quiet but she could in fact hear the small nuances of the other House slaves as they began to prepare for the day. Stepping out through the kitchens, she headed towards the small cluster of row shacks. It was no surprise that February was awake when she got there.

"Morning, February."

"Marn'nin Anne."

"I need something."

"Like what?"

"Me wan ah know if me carry pickney." For a moment, the older woman just stared at her, disbelief and shock on her face. But then she resigned it all and put down her pounding stick. Since she'd been spending most of her time with de white man in de Big House, she had taken up the duty of preparing the cassava and plucking the few vegetables from their wee struggling garden for dinner.