Slavery In Time

The Cotton Harvester

Fatou is now 3 months pregnant.

3 months had passed. Fatou has been noticeably getting bigger, so obviously she needed more assistance in the plantation. We were about 1/3 there until that big day. We got to know our way around François's house enough to make stealing food much easier, however during this time, I haven't been able to find many resources to make good inventions. Also, Fatou's gun was confiscated by François, so we were unarmed at the moment.

Fatou has told me that picking cotton during the majority of the day would be very tiring, and she was correct. My wrists were growing painful and my face was drenched in sweat. The worst part is that there was seldom anything to eat or drink, and whatever liquids we stole from François's house never lasted.

I noticed Fatou rubbing her back and slouching over some. That's when I realized that these next 6 months would become harder for Fatou to endure as long as she kept growing. I can't believe François is still making her work despite this! The poor girl can barely stand for long periods, let alone work.

After about another 10 minutes, a loud voice made the both of us jump. It was none other than François and his newly-owned riding crop.

"Allez! Speed it up! Work those muscles!", he shouted, whipping that crop once and we picked our cotton slightly faster than before.

Fatou felt the crop gently slide against her neck, and it sent a shiver down her spine. "You. Up.", he demanded, and she slowly stood up, her back still facing away from him. While this was happening, I continued to work while watching with an observant eye.

His whip hit her hip once surprisingly lightly. "Face me.", he demanded yet again. Slowly, Fatou and François were face-to-face with each other. He placed one hand on her growing belly and caressed it lightly.

He smirked. "Ah, it's going well, no?", he cooed with a very questionable tone. His free hand then proceeded towards her leg then inside of her thigh, slowly making her gown rise. She looked visibly uncomfortable. "Maybe we can create more servants in the future, how about it?". The moment he started touching her like this is when I lashed out suddenly.

"Don't you dare touch her!", I shouted, getting up and roughly pushing him away. I must've had a lot of guts to do that because right after that, his devilish smirk turned into a menacing scowl and within the blink of an eye, his free hand came down hard on my face. I covered the impacted area with my hand as I grunted in pain. Fatou's attempt to rush to my aid was rudely interrupted when that crop came down hard on her back, and we were both on the ground, groaning and panting as we tried to overcome the pain of François's physical violence.

"Get up! Pick this cotton for your Master! Lunch will be in a few hours...", then he walked away.

We both got up. If only there was a way to fight back successfully, but for now, the torture continued. I began to wonder how Fatou would take this abuse during her next 2 trimesters, when she would become the most vulnerable.

"I can't believe you deal with this everyday...", I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief.

Fatou sobbed a few times. "My hands hurt.", she complained, scratching them interchangeably. I closely observed her hands. They were very red and flimsy. Girl, mine too..., I thought to myself before letting out an involuntary chuckle.

I began to look around. After some hard searching, a few scraps of metal and exposed nails would prove to be useful. Thank goodness we didn't step on those nails.

"I'll be right back!", I said before running back to the small house. Fatou shrugged before resuming her actions.

Within the house, I quickly began searching for some tools that would help build my first invention of the 19th century. This surprisingly didn't take too long because before I knew it, we wouldn't have to use our poor hands to pick large batches of cotton any longer. Thank God for my college studies.

I quickly headed back to Fatou to show her my inventing skills. She seemed fascinated by the odd-looking invention.

"I call it the Cotton Harvester. Now we won't ever have to use our hands again!", I said, eager to test it out. I set it on the ground, pushed the button on a compact remote I made along with it, and, as expected, it begins to hover from the ground and near the cotton patches.

From above, the Cotton Harvester sucked up any and all patches of cotton from within the plantation and was stored in the dispenser from within the machine. Because I couldn't find a good energy source, I had to make this machine solar-powered, however knowing how rarely the sun wasn't out, I was certain this invention would last a while.

I grabbed Fatou's hand. "Let's go back to the house. Our work here is done for now.", I said, leading her back to the house.

After about another hour, The first thing I see is a copper pot full of a yellow goop—mush. He set 2 bowl down and filled each with the odd mush. He then had the gull to set them towards us without giving us at least a spoon.

With a blank stare, he said. "Ask for seconds anytime you desire more." before leaving. I glared at him as he left, and right after he left, I looked back at a small icebox - yep, we stole the ice, too - that I also made and smirked.

"Joke's on him; we have something better to eat...", I chuckled, setting the mush aside and heading towards the icebox. "How about some leftover turkey?", I suggested.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Fatou nod in assent as she set up yet another fire to cook with. Anything was better than that mush François kept feeding us, so long as he doesn't find out about our recent heists. The longer Fatou and I hung out together, the closer I started becoming to her, and I know she appreciates me being a big help to her.

To be continued...