My Love For a Black Heart (ON HOLD)

Chapter Two : Part 1

My father owns the most successful cotton plantation in Northern Louisiana. Mr. Ross, probably the most respecting man in town, besides the mayor. The man who has over 70 slaves working on acres of land, all day. The man who married the prettiest girl on the block. The man who has a daughter named Evelyn. The man who wasn't much of a father at all...

The prettiest girl on the block was Jo Anna Marshal. She had strawberry blonde curls with emerald eyes. My father only married my mother because she was beautiful. My mother only marries my father because he was rich. Shows what kind of family I'm from...

We live in a yellow house with white trim, a porch that is colored with pink and blue flowers, and a polished stone path that led to Hell.. Inside we have a dining room that seats at least 20 guests, a living room with antique furniture that was hardly ever used, 5 master bedrooms, only 2 were occupied, each with a walk in closet and 4 bathrooms with porcelain tubs.

Now, of course our slaves don't live in our luxury. There's a small cabin for every ten people with 5 beds in each. But our indoor slaves get a cabin of their own to share with their family. Our slaves are considered treated better than others. They get three meals a day and have a bottle of water to last them all day. We give them 6 to 7 hours of sleep and they work 6 days a week. Father doesn't like to treat them this well, but he knows if he does, he'll get work done faster.

I was 9 years of age when I met the Jackson family. Mr. Jackson was a field slave and Mrs. Jackson, Ruth, was a house slave. Ruth told me she and her son, Eli, helped deliver me. She said she was the first to hold me, to cut my umbilical cord, to see my blue eyes and to rock me to sleep.

Ruth was a busty woman with thick padded hands and coarse hair that was always tied into a bun. She has two sons. Her oldest is Richy, 8 years older than me and her youngest, Eli. He's 4 years older. I grew up with Ruth. She was more as a mother, but I finally met her family in 1851.

After Eli and I met, we soon became best friends, my only friend. Around age 12, I found myself very attached to Eli. I soon realized around age 14 I was in love with him.

The day I told him how I felt was in the August. I was 15 years of age. I remember it like it was yesterday. I'm sure Eli could say the same.

I sat on the edge my bed, staring at Eli as he checked himself out in my full length mirror. He ran his hand down the freshly bought, flannel shirt. I don't think he has ever worn something so nice. He looked into the mirror at me and smiled. The white shirt made his teeth glow. "Thank you," he said.

I smiled back, "When I saw it, I knew I had to buy it for your birthday."

He walked over with long strides. He's grown into an adult. He was 19. Still maybe a teenager, but had emotionally, physically and mentally matured into an adult. But he still hung out with a 15 year old. I laughed to myself at the thought. He had broad shoulders and a circle beard that highlighted his lips. He was utterly handsome and I adored him dearly.

He pulled me into a big bear hug, his arms swallowing me whole. "It means a lot, truly. But you didn't have to get me anything."

I laughed out loud, "Are you serious? Of course I had to. You're practically my best friend. Besides, I'm just that good of a friend."

Eli chuckled, "You are," and planted a kiss on my forehead. I stared into his dark chocolate eyes, mesmerized, when we were interrupted by a man yelling outside. "Mr. Ross! I got em! I got em! Don'tcha worries about nothin'! That Jackson rat is tied up in the back!"

Eli immediately shot me a worried look. He pulled the nice shirt off without undoing the buttons and replaced it with his sweat stained shirt and darted out of my room. I quickly headed after him. Eli was already part of the crowd forming. Father just started to head out when I reached downstairs. He rolled up his sleeves and had loosened his tie. "Father," I squeaked, "Father, what's happening?"

He fumed in fury, ignoring my frantic question. He hustled outside into the boiling heat of summer. Ruth came right up next to, clearly oblivious to what the commotion was about. One of two men hoped off the bench of the wagon he drove to our plantation. He rushed to the back of the wagon and yanked out a dark man, a slave. The other man helped restrain the slave, even thought he wasn't fighting.

"Here he is, Mr. Ross! You're runaway!" declared one of the men who smiled grimly.

I looked closely at our runaway slave. It was Mr. Jackson! I couldn't believe Eli's father would do that! I've never known him to just leave his family out on a limb like that. It was very unrealistic of him to do such an act. There had to be more to the story.

"Thank you, gentlemen," barked my father. He dug into his pocket and handed them a bag of coins. Father and the men traded and the men bowed, and left as fast as they came. "Don't you have work to do?!" howled my father to his audience.

The slaves mumbled to themselves and went back to work, diligently. "You are coming with me," demanded my father to Mr. Jackson. Father led Mr. Jackson into a shed that was sent up off to the side. The shed held tools and such inside for harvesting wheat and cotton. I rushed over to Eli. I cupped my his face with my small white hands. "Eli," I whispered, "What's going on? Did your father really runaway?"

He couldn't look at me. His eyes stayed fixated on the entry-way of the shed. I gently guided his face to mine, trying to make eye contact. "Eli," I whispered again, "Please talk to me."

He shook his head, "I don't know what's going on," he stated. I pressed my lips into a thin line and rushed into the shed. Mr. Jackson sat in a chair with his legs propped up with another chair. Father rushed around the tent and pulled out chains and rope and began to tie him down. "Father! What are you doing?!" I shrieked.

"Evelyn, I am going to give you a lesson on teaching," he said firmly as he tightened the chain around Mr. Jackson.

"Father, please. I know Mr. Jackson didn't runaway! Please! He's our most loyal and faithful worker! Why would he do that and leave his family behind? It doesn't make sense! Please think about this," I begged as tears welled in my eyes.

"He's a slave, Evelyn. None of that matters. He ran away!" he said.

"I can't watch you torture him!" I yelled. I spun around, heading Eli and Ruth.

"Evelyn Piper Roth!" Father yelled, "You will not walk away from me! You need to learn!"

I stood right by the door out of the shed. Father roped him down tight. I held my hands together staring at my feet, glancing up at my father, who was in fury, every now in then. The lump in my throat refused to go down, no matter how many times I swallowed. Sweat formed on my father's brow as he paced around the tied down man, fetching his tools. The dark man tied down fought back tears. Why was I here?

Father gripped the wooden handle and picked up a large sludge hammer. "You disobeyed me," my father barked.

The dark man choked, "Master, I am sorry! Please, it will never happen again! I swear!" he pleaded.

"Hell it won't!" he yelled back, "This is the only way I'll be sure you won't run away from my plantation!"

Father slung the hammer behind his shoulder and with all his mite, he slammed it onto the dark man's feet, shattering every bone. The man shrieked in pain, hollering for help that would not come. I couldn't hold in it. Tear flooded out of my eyes. I clasped my hands over my mouth, so I would scream. Father swung the hammer again, the man screaming in agony.

Why was Father making me watch? I was only 15, I don't need this torture and neither does this man.

I stood there helpless, as I watched the man suffer. Some dark women stood outside the tent, trying to watch without getting caught, crying for the man. I looked at Ruth and Eli. Ruth cried, holding back screams of terror. Eli just watched, comforting his mother. He was in shock and so was I.

Next is part 2. See what happens between Eli and Evelyn! I wanted to get this one out and with get part 2 ASAP :)