Antebellum (18 page)

“Oh, well, a nigger's a nigger. Bradley, string him up on the horse and bring him back with us. I don't know where he came from, but he obviously hasn't been properly broken.”

“Lemme have the honor, Mr. Talbert. I'll have him kissin' my toes by the time I'm done with 'im.”

Mr. Talbert shook his head slightly.

“This fella right here is foreign, Bradley. You don't want bucks like this stirring up the rest. Might be best to hang him soon as we get back—set an example for the others. I'll decide by the time we arrive home.”

Bradley nodded, bent down and picked me up like a sack of flour. I was still going in and out of consciousness as he tied me to the back of the horse. When he began riding, my body flopped around uncontrollably. It had suffered all it could take. I blacked out while looking at the behind of a horse.

8

W
hen a person comes back from being unconscious, they usually come back in segments. The way all your senses come back to you, piece by piece, is like an orchestra. I was moaning incoherently for the better part of my masterpiece. The crescendo would be me coming back to being fully aware again, but as with any good musical work, my mind couldn't just jump to the climax. There had to be a lead up to the final moment.

The first thing I recognized was that the place where I was smelled like someone was trying to broil a dirty sock. It reminded me of my old high school locker room, when we'd all come back in after basketball practice and figure out whose gym bag was rank enough to kill a small child.

The second thing I recognized was that I was on a dirt floor. I knew this, because my mouth had been open during my unconsciousness, and now that I was coming to, I could taste the soil that my tongue rested on. I rolled myself around slowly, still unable to see straight or to speak anything intelligible. The same dirt that was on my tongue had caked itself against the side of my head where the blood had dried. The mixture of the liquid and earth created a paste that covered half of my face. I must have looked like something out of a low-budget horror movie as I started to sit up.

I heard whispers as I slowly began to get all my faculties back.
My eyesight was getting better, I had gone from seeing one continuous piece of art around me to now seeing everything in double. There were people standing all around, looking down at me as if I'd been the subject of some experiment. My head still pounded from the boot that had collided with it earlier. I tried to stand up, but only got a third of the way before I went back down again.

Everything was clear now; as I looked around again, I noticed that everyone around me was dressed in the same type of clothing as the two guys on the side of the road. They all looked like characters out of a Civil War movie. The people that were standing around me must have been picked to play the slaves. They were blacker than Biggie.

Now that I was looking back at them, the whispering stopped.

“Am....” It took a great deal of effort to try and talk straight, and my grill was hanging halfway out of my mouth. I took out the shiny metal piece, which seemed to be shocking to my spectators, and gained control over my tongue.

“Am I on a movie set? Why is everybody dressed like this?”

Nobody said a word.

Despite the bass drum beating against the inside of my skull, I stood up and tried to think through my situation. Maybe they were working with the guys who'd kidnapped me in the field. Maybe I really was on some sort of movie set. Did these people even recognize me? I put my fingers up and rubbed my cheek. The nastiness on my fingertips covered it like face paint. I decided I needed to get some answers and get the hell out of there—not necessarily in that order.

“Come on, man. Where...where am I?” I stood up straight to give the impression that I wasn't hurt anymore. Truth be told, I'd have fallen if one of them sneezed on me. “Who was those guys that attacked me? Somebody gotta tell me somethin'. Stop
standin' there looking stupid...don't y'all know who I am? I'm Da Nigga! Somebody better tell me somethin'!”

Again, nobody said anything.

“Look, man, I don't know what y'all supposed to be doin', but you gotta let me go. Like I told the white boys, I'll get you all the money you want. I'll pay double what the P. Silenzas's payin' y'all. You know them niggas broke anyways! I killed they career, remember? Take me to da nearest bank, let me cash y'all out, and let me get up outta here!”

One of the actors stepped out from the group and walked up to me. He had a physique that made me think carefully about what I'd do if he attacked me. He was at least 6-foot-4 inches tall, and had eyes that reminded me of a homeless woman who used to be on the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue every day.

You can always tell the difference between guys who built themselves up by going to the gym and those who were lumberjacks or worked construction. The gym guys were usually pretty boys. They couldn't fight, but most people would stay away from them strictly because of their size. The guys who got huge unintentionally were the ones that even the shoot-first dope boys should think twice about bothering. There was something about hard labor that earned a man his respect.

The man who stood in front of me looked as though he was paid to chew bricks. Like I said, I thought carefully about what I would do if he attacked me.

“Where come from?” He had an accent that I couldn't place to any particular region. His voice rang off the walls like a bullhorn. It took a second for me to get my wits before I answered.

“You tell me, cuz? One second I'm in the hospital, next I'm dying of dehydration in a field, and now I'm here. Can you please lemme know where I am?”

He looked as if he had just as much trouble understanding me as I did understanding him. He thought about it for a second, and then pointed at the ground.

“Dis?” He pointed to the ground repeatedly. “Dis Massa Talbert plantation. Who you?”

I took a good, long look at the man in front of me. He seemed to be dead serious. I took a good, long look at the people standing around me as well. Men, women, and children, all staring straight at me, all dressed exactly as I imagined slaves would've looked. I looked at each and every one of them, stared at them, studied them, and when I was done, I looked back at the human tree trunk standing in front of me.

And then I fell into side-splitting laughter.

It made my head pound even harder than before, but I couldn't stop. It was like having someone crack a joke in a quiet place.. I was obviously on a movie set, how I got here I didn't know, and these actors and actresses were way too into their roles. Or maybe they were filming right now. Either way, the fact that they were so serious about it made me almost bust my gut wide open. I was slapping the floor and everything. The only thing that stopped me was my double vision coming back.

It took me another few minutes, but I finally regained my composure.

“You guys are too funny,” I said, catching my breath.

Nobody laughed along with me.

“Why you laugh?” the man in front of me asked again. “Massa Talbert say you be hung or you go wid Bradley. Ain't no time to laugh. You go!”

For a reason I couldn't explain, I didn't feel threatened by the people around me anymore. They were so committed to their roles, they were almost pathetic. I would've felt sorry for them if we weren't on set.

I walked up to the dark-skinned colossus and put a hand on his shoulder. He started to pull away, but stopped. “Look, umm... what's your name, dude?”

He pointed to himself with a question on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, you. What's your name?”

“Roka...me Roka.”...

“Aight, look, Roka...I understand you bein' committed to your role and everything, but I gotta find out how I got here. I'm gonna go find a place to get all this crap off my face. Take a few seconds to come outta your character, and when I get back, we can talk.”

“How you get here?” Roka asked me.

“Yeah, I gotta find out how I got here.”

“Massa Talbert bring you...now you—”

“Massa Talbert, huh?” I cut him off, still feeling the effects of my laughing binge. “Yeah, I'm suing that dude. Being in character is one thing, but if he kick me again, I'ma find a shovel or a rake or somethin' 'round dis...”

“STOP!” This time, Roka cut me off. He grabbed me firmly by the shoulders and shook me. I tried to shrug away from him, but realized I couldn't move.

“You leave now! Can't stay fo' Massa Talbert come back! You run now! You different! You run now!”

I looked into his eyes and knew he was serious. I began to think that maybe this wasn't a movie, but then again there was no other explanation for what was happening. Nothing else made sense.

Roka finally loosened his grip on my shoulders and I jerked myself away from him.

“Aight man, damn! I don't know what the hell kinda actors y'all are, but y'all crazy! I promise you that. I'm outta here!”

I took two steps toward the door and Bradley threw it open. All the actors jumped back as if they'd seen the devil. I stood up straight and stared him in the eye.

“Look, I don't know what kinda movie y'all s'posed to be shootin' here, but when my lawyer gets through you gonna be shootin' porno flicks with crossdressing midgets! Who in the hell you think you is kickin' me? I don't care who you workin' for...I'm Da Nigga, you rat bastard! You done lost your mind! Now get the hell outta my way so I can find a phone!”

The black people behind me stopped breathing. I might as well have been Superman with lasers coming out of my eyes.

“He different...” Roka whispered to the closest dark-skinned person in proximity to him.

Bradley stopped in his tracks and stared at me. He looked intently at me for longer than I had the patience for. His eyes held both fear and confusion, and I could tell he didn't know what to do. Finally, I heard another set of footsteps coming, and Mr. Talbert appeared at the door as well.

“Well, I see you've awakened. We had a time trying to figure out what to do with you. It will be a shame to kill you, since you obviously aren't from here. But as I told my wife and children, I can't risk you getting the rest of my niggers in an uproar. Bradley, if you'd be so kind...”

I was still lost as to what was happening and why. I did understand, however, that someone had made the decision to kill me. Movie or not, these were the same two men who had knocked me unconscious earlier. I'd worry about suing them for everything they owned when I was back in a hotel room with SaTia. For now, I wasn't willing to wait around to see if someone would yell “Cut!” from behind a tree. I sprinted forward without warning and threw my entire body into the space that separated Bradley from Mr. Talbert, forcing them apart and knocking them down. Then I ran out into the open sun.

I had no idea where I was going, but I ran with all the speed
my legs could muster. Whoever these people were, they were definitely crazy. My best move was to get away from them and find someone who had some common sense. I didn't have any money, but I still had my diamond and platinum chain on. I quickly made the decision to hand it over to the first person I met who could take me back to some sort of recognizable civilization.

When I got off of the movie set plantation, I turned onto a dirt road and kept running hard. It would be great, I thought, if someone would pull up in a car and give me a ride, but something told me that wasn't going to happen. If I was on some sort of island, maybe I'd come across someone with a plane or boat. Whatever happened, I had to keep running and make my way back to the real world. The people here were crazy.

Behind me, Mr. Talbert and Bradley were getting back up to their feet. Mr. Talbert yelled for Bradley to chase after me, and he quickly ran over to his horse and jumped on, galloping away. Mr. Talbert jumped on his horse, too, but he went back toward the mansion. When I finally thought to turn around, I saw Bradley on his horse, riding hard and gaining on me quick. I also saw four other men, including Mr. Talbert, riding up behind him. They were coming up too fast, and I'd be caught in the next minute if I didn't do something. With my lungs burning, I made a hard right turn and ran headlong into the woods that were on the side of the road.

A few seconds in the thick brush made me regret my decision. Every tree limb, shrub, and leaf that touched my skin seemed to slice it open. After feeling as if I'd gotten a million paper cuts, I crossed my arms over my face to try and keep the forest from attacking my eyes. I tripped over something every few steps, but I always made it back up and kept running. But a few moments later, I fell down hard on my forearm and couldn't find the air to
rise. I lay there, breathing in the fresh dirt that was inches away from face, wondering again where I was and how I could get away. Exhaustion began to sweep over me, and I was startled to find that, as I was lying there, my eyelids were trying to close. I forced them open and pulled myself up to my knees. I didn't hear anyone else coming through the woods, and I began to think that maybe I'd lost my pursuers. Relieved, I began to daydream about my Bentley sportscar. I hadn't had the chance to drive it yet. It was waiting for me at a lot in Tysons Corner, with all the modifications I'd asked for. I'd stopped by to see it on the way to a concert one night, and sat in the driver's seat for a while. It felt as though I was sitting inside a missle.

“I gotta get outta here,” I thought I was thinking to myself, but I ended up saying it aloud. I tried to pull myself up from off of my knees, but my body told me it wasn't quite ready yet. “Okay...” I spoke back to it. “They ain't chasing me no more, so we can rest here awhile.”

It was then that I heard the sound. It was muffled at first, like when someone calls out a name from a distance and you turn around to make sure they weren't talking to you. It got louder with every breath I took, though, and I knew as the echoes jumped from the trees that this wasn't my imagination. My body may have been uninspired by the thought of the Bentley, but it got a shot of adrenaline from this new threat.