The Two Sams Read online

  “I’ve seen Indians take slaves, but they sure as hell don’t make whores out of them. Some things dead wrong with that. There should be a law against it.”

  “Ever man to his own poison I say.” Stone was talk-n and look-n. “Wish I had the money, them gals will go for thousand dollars each, sure wish I had the money.”

  Sam watching the women said, “There’s a few older ones, wonder what they’ll go for?”

  “Them old ones done wore out. A man get a mammy pretty damn cheap, if that’s what you want.” Stone kept on talk-n.

  Sam turned his attention to the men. Got up and moved over to get a closer look. An old looking fella setting up against the fence turned his head. He looked right into Sam’s eyes. He seemed to be pleading. Not a word was passed between them. The look penetrated Sam’s soul. Why would he buy this man? Sam asked himself. He returned to the bench.

  The auction started. “Who’ll start this auction, who’ll give a thousand for this fine young buck?” Screamed the auctioneer. Someone in the rear yelled, “He ain’t worth that, look at all them whip marks.”

  “He’s learned his lessons, I guarantee he’ll give you no trouble,” returned the auctioneer. “Most these boys are fresh off the boat, you’ll never find a better bunch than this. Look at the muscles on this buck, you’ll never find better. Who’ll give a thousand?” Up came the thousand. He sold for two thousand dollars to a man in a white linen suit.

  Sam said softly to himself, “My five hundred ain’t gonna buy much here today.”

  As the auction continued most of the prices stayed the same. More than sixty men were sold before the older ones came up. The first sold for five hundred.

  Then the one he had looked at was on the block. First bid. One hundred, second, one fifty, then two hundred. Sam blurted out two fifty. The auctioneer cried for more. “This old buck has many more years in his old body. He knows more about cotton and animals than all the others put together.” He couldn’t get any more bids. “Going, going, gone to man in the black hat.” Sam had made a purchase of a slave. He felt total remorse about buying another human.

  A short skinny man came and poked Sam. “Come with me you gotta pay for your old nigger.” Sam followed him to the counter inside the building. The man behind the counter said, “So you got an old one, good luck.”

  Just then a rope was given Sam. In a gruff voice the man handing Sam the rope said, “Good luck! I’m a bet-en this old bastard dies before you get him home.” Sam’s temper got the best of him. “Get that rope off his neck and take the chains off him, do it NOW!”

  “What! Hell he’ll run the first chance he gets.” The gruff one said.

  “Hell, he’s so weak he can hardly lift his head. A fine bunch of ass-holes you people are. I wouldn’t treat a dog this way!” Sam was mad. Every blood vessel stood out on his face and neck.

  “These ain’t people you son of a bitch,” the man said in a sneer. “They’re just niggers.” Sam in a fit of rage, drew back his right fist, it hit the loud mouth square on the nose. The blood fairly flew.

  With blood freely flowing, “You broke my nose you dirty son-of-a-bitch,” the man cried. Sam drew his fist back again. Before he could let go, someone grabbed the bloody one and rushed him out the door to a water trough.

  The man behind the counter handed Sam a bill of sale. “Get this old bastard out of here now. We don’t want no trouble,” he said in a loud voice.

  Sam turned to the black man and said, “Follow me.” Out of the building, down the wood sidewalk to the wagon yard. There he told the old one, “Get in the wagon.”

  Now the old one as he climbed in the wagon, spoke for the first time. “Master,” he said, “I knows you’s a good man, I can see’s it. I works this old body to the bone. I’z a never run a way, if-n you’s help me!”

  “Help you, what do you want?”

  “Master, did you see the woman in the grey dress?” The old one was trembling, as he spoke.

  “I did. Why?”

  “She’s my woman. We... we be together long time, can’s you’s buy her? She’s a good field hand, picks more cotton than any them young bucks and she’s with chill-en.” The old mans eyes were red and tears began to fill them. He was begging Sam.

  “How do you know she’s with child, she don’t look that way to me.” Sam was looking for some assurance. “She knows, she told me so. We’ze done had two chill-en together.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “Kin’t rightly say, they was sold for house chill-en.” The old one said as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “White folk like little nigger chill-en . They keep- em to play with their chill-en. They been gone a long time. I needs this woman-I needs this woman,” he was begging. “Please Master can you’s see’s to get her? She won’t sell for much.”

  Sam thought for a moment. I have some money left he said to himself.

  “Please wont’s you’s try?” the old man was pleading again.

  “Get in the wagon and stay put, I’ll go try. I can’t promise but I’ll try.”

  Sam once more entered the building and on to the sale yard. He got some bad looks from some of the auction men. He didn’t see the one he had hit.

  The young girls were on the block. The bidding was going crazy. Sam was amazed the kind of money being paid for these young black girls. They were bringing thousands of dollars.

  He sat on the same bench. Stone was still there. He said with a smile, “Heard you got some trouble, at the counter.”

  “Not much.”

  The last of the young girls went up on the block and were sold. Stone got up and left. Now the one Sam came for was on the block. No bids. She looked terrible. In a dirty grey dress, more of a rag than a dress. She was bare footed, stood with her head down, never looking up. Blood streamed down her hands from her tied wrists. There was no reason for anyone to buy this woman.

  The auctioneer was screaming for a bid. Sam let him scream. Still, no bids. Sam watched the crowd. It had thinned out quite a bit, still no bids and then Sam bid. “One hundred dollars.”

  “Sold to the man in the black hat.” Sam was surprised he got her so cheap. He headed to the counter, paid the money, got his bill of sale. He was handed the neck rope. This time the gruff one backed away saying, “No trouble, I don’t want no trouble.”

  Sam lifted the rope off her neck, tossed it to the man and said to the black woman, “Follow me.”

  A man standing in the door said, “Watch her she’ll run off.”

  Sam gave him a dirty look and showed him a clinched fist. Sam was uncomfortable with this whole business of buying slaves. To have some white numbskull say something made him mad. The man backed away. No more was said, any way not to this man. Sam had the look of a man of fixed conviction.

  At the wagon yard, no words were passed between the two blacks but their looks told Sam all he needed to know. For the first time a smile broke the two black faces.

  “We better hurry, it’ll be dark soon and we have a long way to go.” He hitched up the mules and turned them toward the front gate. He was looking down below the seat. He said, “There should be three sacks here, I see only two.”

  He turned to the black man and asked, “Did you see two or three sacks?”

  “Only two,” the black said as he showed two fingers.

  Sam stopped the wagon, hopped down and entered the livery stable. “You the owner?” he spoke in a harsh tone to the man standing there. “Yeah, what’s the trouble?” The man seemed unconcerned.

  “I have a sack missing from my wagon. I want it back, right now!” Any blind man could see he was mad.

  “Okay, okay, if it’s here, we’ll find it. If it ain’t, too damn bad.” The man said and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Too damn bad for you,” Sam said and opened his coat to show the handle of his pistol.

  “OKAY, OKAY. Hey boy,” he yelled to a little black boy standing in the door of the tack room. “You seen this mans sack?”
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  “I ain’t see’d nutt-n’. I ain’t see-d no sack,” the little boy called back.

  Just then another older black boy came from the harness room, holding a sack and asked, “Is this it?”

  “That’s it.” He took the sack and returned to the wagon.

  The three started the trip home. Sam Duncan had purchased two black slaves. A man and a woman.

  Chapter 3

  Slave Owner

  Sam and his blacks drove on thru town to the south road. They drove for over an hour. No words were passed between Sam and his newly purchased blacks. The sun was starting to set.

  Sam announced, “We must stop and fix something to eat. I’m hungry, I ain’t had nothing since this morning.”

  Finding an open spot in the trees, he pulled the mules off the road. Getting down he tied the mules to a nearby tree, retrieved two nose bags and slipped them on the mules. During this time the black ones were picking up leaves and twigs to start a fire. As they finished Sam handed the woman his flint and steel. She struck a fire immediately. Sam took down a water jug and from a sack of tin utensils, a coffee pot and filled it with water. Set the pot by the fire. We’ll have coffee as soon as the water boils.

  All three sat silently staring into the fire. Soon the water boiled. Sam from a small sack, took a hand full of ground coffee and dropped it into the boiling water. From a food sack he took a chunk of meat wrapped in oil cloth.

  “Possum killed and cooked yesterday,” he told them.

  “I shore like’s possum meat,” the black man said licking his lips.

  Sam brought forth tin cups and plates, from the utensils sack. He cut three chunks of meat and put them in a skillet by the fire to let them heat. Cold biscuits and a baked potato finished the meal.

  “Go ahead, eat, eat.” He set three tin cups on the ground and filled them with coffee. He motioned for them to pick up and drink. “Careful, it’s hot,” he advised. They both cupped the cups in their hands and sipped slowly looking at Sam as they did. It burned the man’s mouth.

  “Blow on it,” Sam kinda laughed. “Never had hot coffee before?”

  “No sur, never has. I’z a wonders why our white folk always had to have coffee in the morning.”

  Sam laughed, “Now you know.”

  “It’s good.”

  They built the fire up. Now they could see each other as the darkness came on, the fire danced in their eyes. Sam could see hunger had taken them over as he handed plates to eager hands. They pushed the food into their mouths with their fingers as fast as they could.

  “Take it easy you wanta to choke. When was last time you had some food?”

  “Kin’t rightly say. Been some time...ni-on two- three days.”

  “What-ya drink if you drank no coffee?” asked Sam.

  “Well water mostly, had apple cider one time when the foreman ain’t looking. We squeeze pear juices when they was ripe, if we could steal some pears.” The man hung his head as to be ashamed of stealing.

  “I ain’t been told your names, what do I call you?”

  “My name is Joe,” the man replied.

  “What’s your name?” he asked the woman.

  She replied, “I ain’t never had a named.”

  “What would you be called?” Sam asked.

  The man spoke up. “I calls her sweets.”

  “I can’t be call-en her sweet’s.” Sam laughed. “How come you think she’s with child?”

  The woman stood up, pulled her dress up and showed him her little round belly. “I believe you’re right,” Sam said. “She sure looks like she is.” He had no more questions.

  After eating they put out the fire, loaded the wagon, untied the mules, climbed aboard and drove on toward home.

  When they turned into the farm it was well after dark. Light from the kitchen thru a dim light on the wagon and mules.

  Liz called out. “What took so long, you been gone all day, did you buy one?”

  Sam yelled back, “Come see for your self.”

  The two blacks climbed down and stood on the ground by the wagon. The dim light hardly showed how they looked as she appeared in the door way.

  “My, you got two?”

  “Why sure,” Sam said with some pride. “And ones a woman.”

  “Good lord, ones a woman?” She came closer to see them. “I can’t believe it,” she responded. “How in the world did you manage to do that?”

  “Just lucky I guess.”

  Liz motioned for the woman to come into the house.

  “Joe and I will put the mules away,” Sam called

  The two women entered the kitchen. The black one looked all around. Liz asked, “Can you talk?”

  “Yes-m I shore can.”

  Liz told her to come over by the fire. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes-m, we done ate on da road, I’z a still starved. I needs a drink of water.”

  “You can have all you can drink,” Liz told her. She set a pitcher and a cup on the table. The women took two... three... four cups full. “My, my, you had a terrible thirst. When the men get back we’ll set some food on the table. I’ve cooked a chicken, baked some fresh bread and made a peach cobbler. What do I call you? What’s your name?”

  “I ain’t never been named,” she said with a frown on her face.

  “You never had a name? Good lord how come?”

  “Don’t know and don’t rightly care. The foreman don’t give a rip, if you’s got’s a name or not. I-za always works as a field hand.”

  “Well!” Liz said. “I had a Mammy growing up, her name was Maude. I loved her like my own Momma, my Ma was sickly all the time while I was growing up. Maude was like my Ma, when Ma died I cried for days. My Maude died a few days later. I never knew if I was a crying for my Ma or for Maude. I was twelve years old then. Will you be my new Maude? I’ll call you Maude, okay?”

  “Good with me,” the black woman seemed please to have a name. “My name is Maude? Maude, Maude. I like’s the sound of Maude. Was your Maude a slave?” the woman asked.

  “I didn’t know. She was always living at our house. She was always there.” Liz then asked the woman, “How old are you?”

  “I don’t rightly know, Maybe...” she stopped. “Maybe, maybe thirty years.” She covered her face with her hands as she spoke, she looked to be much older. Liz could see the cuts around her wrists.

  “Good lord what has they did to you? Your wrists are bleeding. What-a they do to you?”

  “They tied us with wire, our legs too. We all stayed tied til we was sold. We rode a wagon from our home place. The man was afraid we’d run off.” All the time she spoke she rubbed her arms and legs.

  “I’ll fix your cuts.” Liz went out of the room and returned with a jar of salve and treated Maude’s cuts. Liz asked again if she knew how old she was.

  “I’za don’t rightly know.”

  “Did you know your Momma?”

  “No ma’am, I don’t think I had a Momma.”

  “You had to have a Momma. What’s the first thing you remember?”

  “I’za on a big boat. We niggers was all down inside the boat. All kind of us blacks, more men, just a few women and us chill-en.” The woman seemed unconcerned.

  “Who raised you?” Liz asked.

  “No one’s. I hung around the plantations slave cabins. Someone would take time to feed us chill-en. All the white folk call us pick- a- ninnies. I guess we was.” Her voice trembled, her eyes were red and blood shot.

  As she spoke she wiped tears away with her dirty grey dress. “I’za chopped and picked cotton as soon as I’za big nuff.”

  “When did you and Joe? You know get together?”

  “I knowed Joe a long time. He crawled into my bed one night when I was young. We been together all the time. I had two chill-en with Joe. The master wants me to have chill-en, so’s they can sell em.”

  The men returned from the barn and came into the kitchen. ”We’ve washed up and ready for some food,” Sam said.


  “Set, I’ll put it on the table,” Liz told them. The two blacks pulled back, looked in astonishment. Sam demanded, “Set, yore in our house now.” They did but very uneasy. They never had set at a white man’s table before. They both looked at each other, not believing what was happening to them.

  Liz spoke as she set food down. “I’ve named this woman Maude, how you like it?”

  “Okay,” said Sam.

  “Okay with me. How you like it Maude?”

  “Fine.”

  “You know what? Liz” Sam said. “This woman is with child, how you like that Liz?”

  “Lord e lord,” Liz said. “I’ve got news for you, I’m with child too.”

  Sam couldn’t believe it! How long they had tried and now, could it be true? He questioned her. “How do you know?”

  “We women know that something has changed.”

  Sam was overjoyed, could it be true. A baby on the way! Sam asked again,” How do you know, are you sure Liz?”

  “You can be sure I know.” Liz smiled as she spoke.

  Sam asked, “When will it happen?”

  “Some time in December,” Liz replied.

  “When you gonna have yours Maude?” Sam asked

  “When it’s ready to come” was her answer.

  “Looks like about the same time,” reported Liz. “Maybe hers will be a little earlier.”

  No more was said about babies that night.

  Sam said, “These folks need some clothes. There’s men and women things in a trunk in the upstairs. Come Maude, let’s go take a look.” Sam started for the stairs.

  Liz stopped him and took the lamp saying, “Maude and I will look.” Up the stairs the two women went.

  Sam moved to and sat in a chair by the fire. Took his pipe, filled, and lit it with a stick lit from the fireplace. He asked Joe, “Do you smoke?”

  “No sur. Tried a grape vine once, didn’t like it.”

  Sam laughed, “So did I when I was young boy, burns the heck out-a your tongue, don’t it?”

  “Yes sur never tried again.”

  Liz and Maude came down the stairs, both had arms loaded with clothes, shirts, trousers, a coat and hat. “These things are yours,” she said as she laid the clothes on Joe’s arms. “There’s some boots up there too, we’ll get them in the morning.”