Read Online My Jim by Nancy Rawles - Free Book Online Page A

got gold in Canaan true.
    All up and down the river folks talking bout Moses. Say she stealing niggers and taking them north. She keep going back but them patrollers never catch her. She make it with whole groups of women and children. If she can make it we makes it. We already north.
    Cholera strike that summer and Jim take sick. He bring it from town. Mas say we gots to build a sickhouse far cross the field. He put Jim in there. I brings him blackberry leaves and roots and twig tea from the witch hazel. Mas say he dont want me tending to Jim. He buy a old woman for fifty dollars and make her work in there.
    We gots yellow fever that winter. And a slave name Ben blame for killing two white children. He hang for all to see. The cholera back again in spring. Jim all right but Jonnie in the sickhouse. In Georgia a white looking gal and her black husband buy they own tickets to freedom. Then we all fugitives. Even if we runs away Mas got the right to cross the border and steal us back.
    Mas Stevens slaves dropping one by one. They aint gots no sickhouse to go to. Mas Watson try hard not to lose any of us. He let us kill the chickens for food. And he make his own medicine of hot lemon water and honey for the folks in the sickhouse. He let the mothers come in to nurse and he let the ones with child leave the fields when they sick. Folks say Mas getting old so he aint one to be mean no more.
    But one day Cora drop a child and the next day he dead. Mas come to the cabins to find Cora and beat her.
    Jim say he gonna lose all his teeth and both his eyes fore he let Mas whip Cora. Jim look at Mas and say it real calm. You aint gonna whip none of us again.
    Mas Watson turn red as hot coal. What you talking bout nigger.
    I telling you what I seen Mas. I seen my death if you touch Cora with that whip.
    Mas turn the whip on Jim but Jim dont let him use it. He grab it from Mas hand and strike the ground. Then he throw the whip aside. It lay in the dust like the skin of a snake.
    Jim take Mas by the arm and lead him back to the house. Mas shaking but Jim walking real steady. Rest of us turns and walks back to the cabin with Cora. Nobody ever say nothing bout it.
    Mas take sick real bad next winter. Cant talk cant walk cant barely breathe. Jim got to lift him out the bed. They bring in the white doctor. Thats how we knows he bad off.
    All us niggers pray.
    Mas always say he free us when he die. He looking so frail we thinking maybe thats our freedom. Jim say he aint got long.
    Time Mas Watson die it snowing. He sick so long nobody figure he ever gonna die. Then one day he gone and Miss Watson crying. We bows our heads when Jim carry him out.
    And waits to hear what come of us.
    One week after the burial Miss Watson call Tailor to the farmhouse. Theys lots of whites coming and going from the house. Colored folks in the house hearing all kind of talk bout what Mas Watson owe. We scared for ourselves.
    Tailor aint come back till late. What yall waiting on me for he say. He look at the ground and spit. Mas Watson aint free nobody but hisself he say. The rest of us gonna be free in hell.
    We all sick then. Jim say dont worry whatever happen we gonna be together. He say he seen it. But aint nobody in the cabins sleep that night. Some of us fights all night. Some of us prays and sings.
    My Lord he call me by the thunder. The trumpet sound within my soul. I aint gots long to stay here.
    In the morning Tailor order us to dust ourself off. Nobody want a dirty nigger he say.
    They sell us with the furniture. Folks wailing and moaning. First they sell off the plows and wagons. Then they sell the horses and pigs. We all shivering near the stables. Folks got pee running down they legs. Frost on the ground and we aint gots no shoes. White folks come all bundle up to look at us. Most of them aint got money for slaves. They there for the plates and the silver.
    They call us into the curing barn. Less than twenty of us altogether. I clings to my children.