Storm Clouds Rolling In (14 page)

The light in her eyes was answer enough.
Sarah rose from her chair, moved to a shelf by her bed, and reached up into the shadows. She pulled down a large book and made her way back to the fire. Then, laying her find on the table, she added two more logs to the fire. She settled back into her chair and waited until the crackling flames added new light to the cabin. Only then did she reach for the book and break the silence. “I learned ta read just for this. I still don’t talk good, but I sho ‘nuff can read.”

Moses watched as Sarah picked up the large book and leafed through the pages.
Finally she found what she was looking for.

Sarah’s soothing voice vibrated firmly throughout the cabin as she read.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?
Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, for thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Lovingly,
Sarah closed the book and fixed her eyes on him. “I learned to read so I’se could read my Bible.” Triumph and victory resonated in her voice.

“The Bible!”
Scorn ripped through the air as Moses struggled with the anger threatening to consume him. “White man’s religion.” For a moment he had the wild thought of ripping the book from the old lady’s hands and throwing it into the fire.

Sarah merely waited while Moses fixed his eyes on her.
An almost palpable peace reached out to him from the old lady’s face. Her very serenity offered him a place to deposit his anger. Slowly the rage dissipated and control returned. Taking a deep breath, Moses settled back into his chair.

Only then did Sarah speak again.
“You’ve had a passel of hurt poured into yer life, boy. You been beat—both inside and out. You got a right ta be angry. But yer hurt been caused by men, Moses. God neber did hurt you. It be men who ripped your heart out. It be men who made you wish nothin’ more den ta die and get it over with. It be
men
who sold yer family and left you all alone. God neber did that. He wants to help you, Moses. He wants to take all that dark bitterness out o’ yo heart and pour in his mighty love. Ain’t nothin’ can take God from you, Moses.”

Moses had heard all he could take.
Just the mention of God made his blood boil.

Sarah had time for one more statement.
“That dark bitterness ain’t gonna hurt no one but you, Moses. One day it will eat all dat’s left o’ your heart. Then you won’t be a man anymore. You be just a shell.”

Moses struggled to fight the fury rising in his throat.
If she only knew. Suddenly, it was important she
did
know. Only then would she understand. He jumped up from his chair and ripped off the plain muslin shirt covering his massive chest and back.

“Don’t talk to me ‘bout de white man’s religion.
This is what it do ta niggers,” he cried.

Silence filled the tiny cabin as the crackling flames illuminated the crisscross of swollen scars and welts turning his back into a dried mud flat.

Moses continued, keeping his voice low and controlled.
“My first master did dis ta me. I was eleven years old. I had just watched my daddy be hung in de woods after trying ta run ta freedom. They caught him, brung him back, and hung him from a tree while I be watching. Dey told him he would die the only way an animal deserved to die. Then they came after the rest of us. My mama was waitin’. She knew it wouldn’t do no good ta run. She had to watch while all of us—my sisters, too—were strapped to the whippin’ post. Den it was her turn. All of us had to watch while they beat my mama. She almost died dat day. I’m sho she wished she had.”

Sarah waited, tears glistening in her shining eyes.
Rose wept quietly.

Moses stared into the fire.
“When they were done, they told us they’d done it for our own good. That the only way fer us ta make it ta heaven was to repent of our sins. They were helpin’ us repent. If they punished us, God wouldn’t have to punish us so much when it be his turn. One of my sisters died. Carmen was too little… She couldn’t take it.” His voice broke in a sob as his mighty shoulders slumped before the terrible memory. Broken, Moses sank into his chair.

Sarah was immediately at his side.
Her work-worn hand gently stroked his bowed head. Time seemed to stand still as the pain of generations past marched through the cabin. It was as if the voices of all slaves who had ever lived and suffered were crying to be heard in Moses’s words.

Softly, Sarah began to speak.
“Thirty years ago, Africa was my home. I had a fine man and two little girl chil’un. One day our village was attacked by another tribe. My man and chil’un were killed in the fightin’. All in the village were killed ‘cept the women. They tied leather thongs ‘round our necks and connected us ta each other in long lines. We left what was left of our village and marched through the jungle for a lot of days. I lost track of time. We barely had food and water to keep us alive. Beatins were common...”

Moses looked up as Sarah took a breath.
“Why?”

Sarah shook her head and continued.
“Big boats was waitin’ fer us, but first we had to pass de inspection. We had heard rumors in our village about white men stealing people away, but we didn’t think it could be true. We figured we be safe in our village…” Her voice caught with the memory. “There were so many of us there dat day. We all had to strip naked and be examined—every part of us. Some didn’t pass that ‘spection. Dey were de lucky ones. I made it. Before they loaded us on dem big boats, they put a brand on us. We all had dem brands—to let folks know someone owned us now.”

Sarah’s voice deepened.
“A lot of us didn’t make it over on the boat. Them men on the ship figured we would try to get free so all of us got put in the bottom of the ship. There weren’t much air and even less food and water. They had to carry the dead out ever’ morning. There was hardly room to sit. Never did lie down for that whole trip across the big ocean.” Sarah’s voice wavered again as she relived the memories, and then strengthened. “Some people killed themselves. One woman had her baby on dat boat. Didn’t want her baby to live through dat. When no one was watching she jumped overboard with her baby and drowned herself. Right then, I was sho wishing it could have been me.”

Moses gazed into the old woman’s face, feeling her pain because he so strongly felt his own.

              Sarah forged on. “I didn’t want to live. I figured if I didn’t eat then I could be one of those dey carried out of the bottom in the morning. Dey figured out what I was doin’, though. One of the men brung a shovel with hot coals on it. Another one held me while the hot coals were placed right up to my mouth. My lips blistered right up. Then dat man with the shovel, he tell me dat if I don’t eat I’m going to have to swallow dem coals. I ate. And just kept hoping I would die. The pain all around was more than I could bear, and I kept seeing pictures in my head of my man and chil’un. I thought I would go plum crazy.”

The fire crackling in the cabin was the only sound.
Even the frogs had ceased their croaking as if to honor her pain. “That big boat finally crossed the water and dumped us here in Virginia. I was scared bad but firm ground felt mighty good under my feet. If I was goin’ to have to live, I wanted to be off dat boat. Marse Cromwell bought me dat day. Well, Marse Cromwell’s daddy, that is. Along with a whole passel of others. I be the only one left o’ that group.” Sarah sighed and continued. “I worked the tobacco fields along with ever’body else. There weren’t no more beatins and we had ‘nuff to eat. After hearing some o’ the stories from surroundin’ plantations, I decided I was pretty good off. Then Marse Cromwell bought a slave named John.” Sarah’s face softened with the memory. “Me and John fell in love lickety-split and got married after just a few months. It wasn’t long after that that Rose came along. I thought I had me a new life. Not like the old one but good just the same.” Sarah breathed in deeply to control her tears. “Rose was a bitty baby when Marse Cromwell sold John at some auction in Richmond. I never even found out where he be sent to. One day he was there—my fine man—the next he was gone. I gave up all hope that day. There didn’t seem to be no end to the bad things waiting to happen in my life. I became a bitter, angry woman. Didn’t see no reason to live.”

Silence stretched into the cabin.

“What happened?” Moses couldn’t keep from asking.

“I remembered that
mama aboard the boat. How she had jumped overboard to free her and hers baby. I waited till late one night, got Rose wrapped up in a blanket, and walked down the road till I found de river. I had waded in up to my waist when God stopped me.” Sarah smiled at the look of disbelief on Moses’s face. “I know. I felt the same way you did. God was a bad man made up by white people to keep us willin’ to be their slaves. I had cursed him over and over, but still, it be Him dat stopped me. I couldn’t walk out no further. It was like a giant hand was holding me back. I tried, but I just couldn’t get no further. Rose was cryin’. I was cursin’. Finally, I gave up and turned back around to sit on the shore. It be when I turned around dat de water started glowin’.”

Moses stared
as the old woman’s face became radiant with wonder as she relived her experience.

“It was a dark night.
But that water begin to glow with a white light. It turned that water into the purttiest blue you ever seen, but just the water right around me. And the water got warm. It was like God was giving me a bath. But the bath wasn’t for my body. It be for my heart. Warm waves of love washed right through me. I don’t know how long I stood there. I never wanted to leave that river. I wanted to feel dat love washin’ through me forever. Finally, the light began to fade and I walked out o’ dat river a new woman. I knew deep down where no one can’t never take it away that I had been with God. Not the God the white men talk about—I’d been with the real God. He took all my pain and anger and he traded me back peace for it. He put a light in my heart dat can’t nobody take away.”

Sarah’s voice faded away, swallowed by the deepening shadows in the room. The logs sputtered and hissed.
Long minutes passed as the old woman gave Moses time to take in all her words. She wasn’t done, however. “Moses, boy. I hate bein’ a slave and I hate slavery. But I decided a long time ago that I weren’t gonna hate the people who make me a slave. I’ll do what I can to change it, but I won’t hate.” Sarah did nothing to hide the vehemence of her words.

Moses looked deeply into her eyes as she continued.

“I want to be free someday, boy, but I want my heart to be free now.” Kneeling down in front of the hulking giant, Sarah wrapped her arms tightly around him. “They can destroy your body, Moses, but only you can let dem destroy your heart and your soul. Dat be your decision.”

The fire had died down to little more than molten ashes when Rose stood and broke the spell.
She didn’t know how long the three of them had sat in silence, only that the silence was a good one. Her mama did that to people. Sarah liked to get people to be silent. She said that was the only time their thoughts could be loud enough to be heard over the daily demands of living. Rose could hear her mama’s voice echoing in her mind.
You got ta be quiet girl. It be the only way to hear yo’ heart. And yo’ heart be the only thin’ you can trust. God will speak to you in your heart. But ya got to be able to hear it.