Glory over Everything: Beyond The Kitchen House(18)

“What are you doing here?” I ask the boy.

“They took me,” he says, then starts crying. “I wants my mama! I wants my mama!” He sounds like a baby, and the more he calls for his mama, the louder he gets.

“Stop cryin’!” I say. “You’re hurtin’ my head, yellin’ like that.”

“I wants my mama,” he says, but then he gets quiet and vomits again. Hearin’ him do that, I can’t hold back no more and do the same, and we both keep at it until nothin’s left in my stomach or in his. My head hurts so bad that I lay back and fall asleep.

I wake up to see him watching me. My head is still sore, but my stomach is quiet even though the boat is rocking. I sit up quick to look around. “Where are we?” I ask. “Where are we going?”

“I don’ know,” he says.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“I’s Randall.”

He looks so small. “How old are you?” I ask.

“I’s five,” he says, and when he looks at me, I wonder if I was that little when I was taking care of my mama.

“My name’s Pan.”

“How old you is?”

“I’m twelve years old.”

“You big as my brother,” he says. His voice starts to shake. “He was fightin’ them an’ they hit him on the head an’ I don’t know where he got to.”

“I don’t have no brother,” I say, talking fast so his crying don’t start up again, “but I got a bird.”

“A bird?” he asks, but I don’t answer when I start thinking of how a bird got me here. I got all kinds of questions, and when I think of them, each one scares me more. Who is that Skinner? Where is he taking me? Is he a slave catcher like my daddy said? Is he gonna sell me? Will I be a slave? Will they cut me up like they did my daddy?

“What gon’ happen to us?” Randall asks.

“I don’t know,” I say. When he scuttles over close to me and starts to cry, stink and all, I start to cry myself. That stops him and he looks up at me. “Is you cryin’? Is you scared, too?” Then I remember my mama’s friend Sheila and how she takes care of me when I was small as him. “I’m too big to cry,” I say, and put my arm around him. “You just hold on till I can think of how to get us out of here.”


WE WAS JUST layin’ there when Skinner comes down and slips in our sick and starts yelling so loud that Randall starts to shake all over.

“What kinda mess did the two of you make?”

“We got sick, is all,” I say.

“Well, you’re gonna clean it up!”

“Where are you taking us?” I ask. “Where are we going?”

“Never mind,” he says. “I’m gonna bring you water, and I want this mess cleaned up!”

It don’t take long before he comes back with a bucket and a rag. After he leaves, I wash the two of us down as best I can, then I clean up the floor. The only light that we got is from the trapdoor on top of our heads that got a ladder, and that’s where Skinner comes down to bring us our food. Randall don’t want the hard bread and cheese, but I know we got to get something in our stomachs, so I tell him, “I’ll take a bite, then you take a bite,” and that’s the way I get him to eat a little bit.

The next time I see Skinner, I ask him again where we’re goin’.

“None a your business,” he says.

“But I want to go back home!” Before I know it I start yellin’ at him. “Where are we goin’? You got to tell us where you’re takin’ us!”

He walks over and stands right in front of me and talks real quiet. “I guess you don’t hear me the first time. I said it’s none a your business.”

I don’t care no more. I got to know. I stop yellin’ and straighten myself up and try to sound like Robert. “I believe that it is my business,” I say. “You brought me here to see—” His fist winds up and catches me and I go down.

“Get off a me!” Skinner yells, and I see Randall, who’s been hanging on to Skinner’s arm, go flying against the wall, where he plops with a yelp like a puppy.

After Skinner goes, I try to sit up, but I can’t and Randall crawls over. When I moan, he whispers, “Is you hurt? Is you hurt bad?”

While I lay there, Randall sits close beside me, waiting, his hands squeezed together tight in his lap, and I still can’t believe that he tried to fight off Skinner.

“I wish I was brave as you,” I say.

“I want my mama,” he says, and even though he don’t make no sound of crying, water is coming from his eyes.

“Tell you what,” I say. “Soon as we get to land, I’ll write to Mr. Burton. He’ll come for us.”

“You can get us outta here?”

“Yup,” I say. “I’ll send a letter to Mr. Burton, and he’ll come.”

Randall grabs at my hand. “An’ you take me with you?”

“?’Course I take you with me,” I say. “I’m not goin’ no place without you.”

After that, I find what looks like a old sail and wrap us both in it, ’cause we’s cold. Even when he’s sleepin’, Randall keeps hold of my hand.