The Thirteenth

Chapter 2

Antebellum Georgia - 1858 (Present)

"Wakey, wakey!" was the first thing Jimmy heard that warm, moist morning. He opened his weak eyelids to see Overseer Bennet standing over him. Jimmy pulled the blankets down and sat straight up in the bed. Bennet usually either woke the oldest child, or the parents of the family up first. Depending on what the living situation was.

After Bennet had left to awaken the other slaves, Jimmy rolled out of the bed and pulled open a brown, beaten up trunk full of worn clothes out and tossed them on the bed beside his father. ”Nita, Theo," he called while removing their clothes from the trunk. "Wake up."

Anita rolled over in her bed to where she was facing the wall of the hut. She had already been awake. She didn't get much sleep last night. Theodore on the contrary sat straight up on his top bunk and yawned, stretching his arms outward. "Who pickin' the berries today?" he asked as he hopped down from his bunk.

Jimmy tossed a shirt and a pair of pants at his brother. "Supposed to be Nita, but she too tired. I'll do it."

"No," Anita spoke. She turned back over to face her brothers. "I'll do it." Her mother always told her to never let anyone do for her, that she could do for herself. Ms. Red encouraged her daughter to become a smart, independent woman. And that's what Anita strived to be.

A tin bucket swung back and forth in her hand on her way out. After Anita had gotten dressed into her old worn out day dress, she headed to the hundreds of bushes that sat in the farthest part of the plantation. They sat right in front of the river her brothers were bathing in. Master Wyatt didn't care if you bathed in the river, but he has nothing to do with it if you get caught by the overseer.

On her walk to the bushes, she looked over and spotted most of the other slave families clapping, and dancing in circles singing songs they had been taught by their ancestors. Anita smiled at the refreshing sight. It was nice to see families come together and enjoy one another.

Once she finally reached the bushes, she sat down on her knees to pick out as many berries as she could, and placed them in the bucket.

"...sometimes I feel discouraged," she sang after moments of berry picking had gone by. It was a Negro Spiritual her mother had taught her when she was a child. "And think my work's in vain." Clang, was the sound the berries made as it hit the bottom of the bucket. "But then the Holy Spirit...Revives my soul again." Clang. "Don't ever feel-,"

"Anita, right?" a voice from above her said.

She looked up. "Oh!" Anita said in astonishment. She quickly stood up and wiped the moist dirt off of her dress. "Hi, Mr.-, I mean, Darrell."

Darrell was standing on the opposite side of the bushes with a fishing rod in his hand. "What are you looking at?" he asked leaning his head so that Anita could make eye contact with him. Anita refused by moving her eyes in the opposite direction. Darrell grinned.

"Mama always told me to never look white folks in the eyes," Anita explained still looking past him.

"Why?" Darrell asked, although he already knew the answer.

"Cuz," Anita started. "Mama says it's disrespectful and offensive."

"Look at me," Darrell ordered. Anita nervously shook her head 'no'. "That's an order," he added with sternness.

Anita knew better than to reject the order of a white person. Especially one from the master's son; no matter how small it was. Anita looked at Darrell's eyes, and they held that gaze for awhile.

Darrell shrugged. "I ain't offended."

Anita smiled, and she couldn't help but notice how pretty his eyes were.  They were a soft blue closer to the pupil, and then a darker blue outward. This shocked her because she's never noticed any other eye color except the dark brown she's used to seeing around the plantation. With the exception of her little brother who had light brown eyes with a hint of green. "Wow," Anita softly said.

"What?" Darrell asked noticing Anita's attentive gaze.

"Y-...you have pretty eyes."

Darrell's eyebrows rose in shock to Anita's boldness. Complementing a white man was something that he'd never thought any slave would do. It caught him off guard, and as a result, he was at a complete loss for words.

"Darrell!" another teenage white boy called from beside a Birch Bark canoe near the river. Darrell turned around to the caller of his name, and Anita looked past Darrell to see as well. He was a tall boy with short brown hair. He looked somewhat familiar to Anita, but she couldn't remember exactly where she knew him from. "Stop befriending that Nigger and come on over here so we can hook some fish 'fore dinner comes 'round!"

Anita's eyes went straight down to the grass beneath her feet. "You should go 'fore we both get in trouble," she warned. Even though she somewhat did care about Darrell's well being, she cared about hers more. And either he was going to leave, or she was. She didn't want to risk getting caught.

"Yeah," Darrell agreed. "I just came over here to tell ya to be careful pickin' these berries. Don't let my papa, or Bennet catch you eatin' before we give y'all breakfast."

 Anita nodded her head obediently; only determined to keep her mouth shut. Darrell had walked away to meet the other boy by the river, and Anita was back on the ground. She peeked through the bushes and attempted to find out who the other boy was. All she heard was the familiar boy say, "Gosh, Darrell. Yer just like my Pops!" They then boarded the canoe, and Anita went back to picking her berries. Clang.

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A/N: Chapter 3 will be posted on Thursday,  May 15th! Happy readings!