14 Muskets

We saw his horses before we ever saw his face. They had dark silky hair slicked down on their thick long necks, with powerful legs that kicked up dust clouds, making it hard to get a good look. But we knew what money looked like. They ain't miss no meals. Big Tom opened the gates for him and I couldn't stop wondering who this man could be.

He took his time like he owned the daylight. In return, guess he was giving us a show. I could make out leather gloves, a nice wool jacket, and a pale, bare face. Finally got close enough to hear what he sound like. He had a low voice that danced around a little bit, his words were light on their feet, didn't drag. If he was trying to hide he came from up north, he needed a bit more work at it. He kept saying these words over somewhat like a speech.

"A runner can cover a lot of ground in fifteen to twenty seconds, but the muskets I make, oh they have a special chamber allowing you to unload and reload in two ."

There were still a good twenty yards to go before he made it to the big house, guess he was rehearsing his lines before he tried buttering up Mr. Wade. I waited till the dust settled to look at Pop, we just laughed. This man didn't know nothing bout how Mr. Wade do things around here. Mr. Wade didn't need no muskets on us.

We were excited to see an inventor though, at least that's what it said he was on his horse buggy. I looked over at pop, his eyes were stuck on em. It was the first white man he ever had anything in common with. And even though the words black and inventor didn't have no business next to each other, pop made everything we used around here. So I guess looking at this man was almost like looking in a puddle of muddy water, couldn't quite see himself in it, but it was something, ya know.

You might say on this plantation, there was a certain, "almost" about the place. Almost enough levity around to forget the obvious, and just enough breathing room for joy to almost, turn around the corner. Reckon it had something to do with the workload. By day we’d pick the cotton and by evening we'd pull the seeds out. We keep most nights to ourselves. Before that, it would take us twelve days to pull them seeds out that cotton. Thanks to Pop and that comb he invented, we’d get most of em out by evening.

Oh, I should introduce myself. I’m Sam Jr. we don’t get last names around here. I’m glad about that, saves me the trouble of having to answer to two. There's too much to do, to be worried about those sorts of things.

Anywho, where was I? Oh yes, that inventor finally got to the house. They sat on the porch and talked like white folks do. Mr. Wade says this kind of talk is what they call "formalities". I could tell boss wasn’t interested, cause he was doing that thing he does when he ain’t listening and waiting for a moment to say no. He’d tilt his head slightly to the right and look up as if he was trying hard to remember something. But as soon as you pause, he’d say something like, “I don’t suppose I need a reading worker.” Or “I don’t suppose writing would be a good practice for a working man's hands.” We had a lot of “I don’t suppose” moments, and I could tell he was about to use one of them on Mr. Whoever he was.

I was looking forward to someone else other than us, hearing the word no, that didn’t happen. Boss let him in the house and sent April outside. She had been in the house ever since she turned 16.

She wouldn’t look at me, I figured it was because I was out in the field and she was soft and clean, you know, put together. I suppose she kept boss company since the Mrs. died. Whatever the reason, I didn't feel so good about it. Maybe he was gonna have this inventor give my pops inventions a look over, see if anything would come of it. That's just what it was too cause boss came out the door smiling. He whispered something in April's ear and for the 1st time since promoted to the house, she looked at me.

Her skin was the color of peanut butter, her eyes were the color of honey. She made me feel a certain way that only a woman could. I watched her walk from the porch to the stairs, from the stairs to the pathway. I wouldn't dare tell her how I felt about her, nor the glimmer she put in my eye, so I looked down when she got closer. She smelt like vanilla and lemon. She had the nerve to whisper in my ear, can you believe that?

I leaned in a little so our cheeks touched, hoping our skin could talk to each other. It's like the wind stopped to hear her speak, and then she said; "Go get your papa and come on in the house." She grazed my cheek again, slowly, and turned away. Well well well, I guess skin can talk, cause there was no doubt in my mind, she was sweet on me. It was three days before my seventeenth birthday, the Sunday before Easter. Sundays was our only day off. I ran to get Pop.

Pop! Pop! "Mr. Wade talking to that inventor, think he might want to see your work. They sent me to come get you, and guess what, they want you to come in the house." Pop paused for a minute, he had his back turned to me. "He wants to see my work huh.. " he muttered. He rubbed the scar on the back of his neck, burned from when he was a child. The hair on the back of his head stopped three fingers short of where mine did because of it. I felt bad about always staring at it. Kinda blended in with his coffee skin though. Pop looked up at heaven, he would do that from time to time when he missed my mama and said, "look over me Nell, look over me." He opened a dusty wooden box and pulled out something wrapped in an old dirty red rag. It was cowhide, guess it turned black over time. In the middle were four sheets of paper held together by a couple of blades of lemongrass. Something like a small black notebook. It had drawings of some machine inside. He looked at me and grabbed that book and said, "no matter what, this is our ticket."

I didn't know what that drawing was or why it was important, and he didn't tell me. "When we get in there, you let them speak, you don't say anything before asked, hear me son?" I was too busy wondering if April was watching me so I didn't hear anything he said. And would you believe it? She wouldn't look at me again. She was hugging her sister and mama with her eyes locked in on the door. Pop grabbed the door handle then let it loose. "Ugh Mr. Wade, you send for me?" "Yes come on in, leave jr outside." The door shut behind pop so I walked to the window. As I turned, April was right there behind me. Her eyes were filled with water as she said, "you and your daddy just got sold for 14 muskets." That's all I remember about that day.