|A Seed, Once Planted (standard:other, 898 words)|
|Author: Andrew Dayton||Added: Apr 29 2009||Views/Reads: 1515/985||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|24 Hour Writing Contest Submission, April, 2009 Topic has to be touched upon only. Topic is shown below. "Silly Scilla, silly Scilla," the young girl sang, as she pushed another tiny blue flower into her hair. She knew she would have to|
Scilla and Mamm walked out to the field as the sun rose. Along the way, Scilla picked violets and plaited them into her hair. Although the day was already hot, the soil was cool. Pushing her feet into the dirt Scilla felt something hard. Digging down she pulled out a tattered leather purse. Opening it, she peered inside. Inside she saw gold coins. Her breath caught. How much was in there? $100? $10,000? Scilla was a bright girl for her age but could not comprehend such wealth. “Ahem” right behind her. “Is you going to start planting or is you gonna play in the dirt all morning?” Mamm asked. “S'ry Mama” Scilla surreptitiously dropped the purse in the front pocket of her apron. She pinched up some seeds and started pressing them into the dark, wet soil as Mamm's steps retreated. A lifting breeze carried the rich odors of the plowed field, the flowers in the meadow and the call of a mockingbird but only Mamm noticed. Scilla was deep into her task, her long hair hanging low as she hunched over her work. Mamm watched her, and rose to straighten a kink from her back. She loved little Priscilla so, and her heart ached at the notion of ever being without her. Unaware of her mama's gaze, Scilla continued working, but her mind was spinning at the possibilities presented by the wealth she carried. She could buy her Papa's freedom. Maybe the whole family's freedom! She would buy her Mamm a new dress and her Papa a team of matched horses. Such were her thoughts three hours later when the dinner triangle rang. “Well, get along there Little,” Mamm said. “I want to sit in the shade and we only have half and hour 'fore we gotta start working again.” From the neighboring fields, hands drifted toward the shade of the trees to eat their noontime packets. They settled beneath a large elm tree and opened their lunch. “Mama, if you could have anything in the world, what would you ask for?” asked Scilla. Mamm pretended to think for a moment. “Well that's easy. I would want for you and me to always be together, Little.” Scilla looked vexed. “No Mama, I mean what would you want that you could buy if you had a lot of money.” “Well now, it ain't much use talkin' ‘bout things you ain't never gonna have. Leastways, not until the day we's all free. ‘Til then, we got each other and that plenty good enough for me.” She reached over and touched Scilla's face with the back of a work hardened hand. “Scilla, you remember who you is named after?” She asked softly. “Yes'm. Named after Missy Kuye.” Said Scilla. “And do you remember why we named you after her?” Scilla closed her eyes and leaned her little face against Mamm's hand and spoke dreamily. “She the lady that laid down under the moon and had a dream that all us folks was gonna be free.” “And?” Prompted Mamm. “And she said that all children be back with their parents, and the gummint would give all us black folks land of our own.” “That's right.” Said Mamm. “And that be my dream for us. That's all I want in this whole world.” “Mama,” said Scilla “we gonna have us a farm with horses and lots of goats and it's gonna have a creek and a windmill so we ain't never gotta fetch water.” Mamm smiled. “Oh, you gonna grow up to be a fine, special lady, Scilla.” They ate in silence for a few more minutes and then rose to get back to their work when they saw the overseer mount up. Click here to read the rest of this story (33 more lines)
Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Andrew Dayton has 13 active stories on this site.
Profile for Andrew Dayton, incl. all stories
For a quick, anonymous response to the author of this story, type
a message below. It will be sent to the author by email.