Southern Silver Dollars and Peppermints: A Louisiana Tale

By Rebecca Benjamin

For one family in the Louisiana countryside, secrets are too abominable to speak of until now. Forced into slavery and stripped of their culture, the slaves adhered to their captors' commands and did as instructed. The unfamiliar tongues made the commands hard, yet the cleverness of the slaves was underestimated. Enough was enough, and they decided to fight back in secret, destroying any and every man that threatened their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9780359847761

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Benjamin

Copyright © 2019 Rebecca Benjamin.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN: 978-1-6847-0707-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6847-0708-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019908817

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 07/02/2019

Failed promises of protection from the man beast

Crying to be free, Death takes us home

Eyes closed, No one to hear our cries, sealed in a coffin

Not an echo or whisper to set us free

Not a marker to remember where we lay not a rose or even shade from a tree

Neglected promises of protection from the man beast

Crying to be free, Death takes us home

Eyes closed, No one to hear our cries, sealed in a coffin

Not an echo or whisper to set us free

Not a marker to remember where we lay not a rose or even shade from a tree

Alone in the cold of night we lay, darkness hides the truth

Hear our voices, for now; we shall rise

The shadows and truths of yesterday shall give light

Time will reveal your hidden secrets

For you, there is nowhere to hide, nowhere to run

All will be exposed, and there is a price to pay

Death will evade you man-beast until the debt is paid in full

Our ghosts will follow you even in the depths of the grave

As you sleep, you will hear our screams, see our faces

You will remember us even when others have forgotten

The time has come to see you take your place

Where the sinner must ultimately stand

With your power, your evil demise now all will fail

And you cannot escape your own sinister plan

For Annie, Ruby Lea, and Beatrice Brown and Alonzo Benjamin, II

I never forgot.

Thank You, Lord, my Heavenly Father, for always keeping me. The journey has been rough and yet You gave me the strength to see past the storm and trust You with all my heart and soul. Jesus, You are keeper of my soul.

This book is dedicated to my mother, Lucille Brown-Benjamin, and the memory of my father, Alonzo Benjamin, II. Thank you for not giving up on our family and teaching us to pray without ceasing.

Mama, you have shown me how to stand strong even when I feel weak. You taught me to face the storms head on and never to run. I am blessed to have you in my life.

Daddy the first gift you gave me was the word of God, and for that, I am thankful.

For Aunt Sophie Brown-McElroy, thank you for always being a listening ear and sharing your words of wisdom.

My children, Lester Jr., Andrea, Monica, Benjamin, Nakesha, Savion, Qaadir, and Zion, thank you for the lessons during this journey. I love you each.

In memory of Robert Lee Jr., you were a driving force behind this book. Thank you for the many months of knowledge and your friendship. I will forever be grateful.

Renita Benjamin, though you are my sister-in-law, you have encouraged me since day one. I love you and will always cherish you as a sister.

For my siblings, Florida, Alonzo Jr., Janero, Felicia, Monica, and Eric, thank you each for your faith in me.

In this life, we encounter many tests and face multiple storms. We embrace them differently, and the outcome may be good or not so good. It is up to us to determine how we respond. There will be those that give us much pain and some an unspeakable joy. It is at these times we learn some of our greatest lessons. We find our strength, ourselves, and obtain wisdom. We will face criticism, ridicule, betrayal, and many other trials. In all of these, we reach our destination and complete the path to our greatest destiny. Have faith in all you do and never stop believing.

Rebecca

Preface

I t’s over here, boys, shouted Earl. The other men raced towards the place where Earl Myers stood. Emotions stirred as the tears begin to fill his eyes. He was a tall and muscular man with short salt-and-pepper hair. The silver streaks gleamed in the sunlight. He was wiping the sweat from his brows and smiling at the same time. His eyes peered to the left of the field where Mikea stood.

Her silver hair hung from the shoulders that had borne years of burdens and kept secrets. Though older in age, her body was still strong in features. Truly she was a warrior to have survived the endless torment and abuse suffered in her youth, starting at twelve years old, at the hands of men.

Waving excitedly, he beckoned for her to come to the place where she kept secret from the white people in the town of Shadowed Woods, Louisiana. She had buried her mother there just a few days earlier. Akata, her mother, had gone down fighting just as her mother had. Now the entire world would know the secrets in this little town that tormented and murdered so many Negro men and women. Their graves would reveal a tale that those outside of Shadowed Woods would never believe without proof. Money and power had been the driving force behind the hatred inflicted on the poor colored folk there.

Earl knew he’d better retrieve her himself. His heart longed to comfort her. He knew the secret for so many years, and when this was over, he would tell her the truth. He hated what his grandfather and father had done to the many colored women years before his time. He spent most of his life trying to undo the damage the men in his family had done.

Earl had never married because he never wanted this part of his past to surface in him. He never wanted to poison another human being with the poison his grandfather and father had running in their veins. Their blood was poisonous and had stained many families. The colored community as a whole welcomed their deaths. There was a celebration of cries and freedom that filled the air the night Lucas Ray Myers died. He terrorized the town’s people and didn’t care if he hurt the women that took care of his own white child or cooked their meals. He wanted what he wanted and stopped at nothing to get it, even if this meant killing anyone in his way or anyone who dared ask questions.

Mikea walked closer to the open graves. The wooden boxes held the remains of innocent men, women, and children. There were more babies buried because of their skin color and being born male. The breeding process had been good for Sheriff Myers and devastating for the colored community. Earl, you think all of the papers are safe? Mikea asked. I bury them in the grave so the white man can’t find them.

Earl took her hand and pulled her closer to himself. I know you are clever, Mikea, he spoke in a low tone. Smiling, he moved her hair from her face. I can only imagine what you have buried here beside dead people, he laughed. She smiled back in assurance because the FBI was now there to make things right. She had concealed all the proof over the years with names and dates. Out of the side of her eye, she saw a movement near the white wooden church. The graveyard for the colored people had been right next to the church. There was no land or cemetery in the town permissible for the colored people.

Looking around, Mikea noticed the three white doves perched above the wooden cross on the church roof. They were cooing as if assuring her everything would be alright. The little church barely stood but remained a symbol of hope for those who tasted the bitter wrath of the town’s sheriff. There was no movie theater or dance hall the colored people felt safe to patronize. This little church was the only safe place for them to gather.

Most of the gatherings were to say their last goodbyes to the colored people who died from either neglect from their white owners or because the white men feared a rising opposition in their eyes. Being a colored man was their only sin. Some Sundays, the little church would hold church services for those who sought answers to their demise. As she turned back to the men digging the few graves left, she saw a white shadow near the last grave. Her heart pounded hard against her chest. She looked again, and the woman smiled at her. Behind the woman stood a tall man with a smile on his face. She saw her mother standing on the side of them both. She knew then, this was the Great Warrior King and his Queen and her grandmother. She didn’t have to guess because they spoke to her heart. Earl was looking in the direction she was and asked her, What are you looking at, Mikea?

Chapter 1

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M ikea ran as fast as her little twelve-year-old feet would take her. She could hear the blood-curdling screams of a woman. She had been venturing in the woods as she usually does. The fall weather made it enjoyable, and she knew winter was approaching because the leaves had fallen to the earth, acting as a blanket for the ground. The sky was a pale orange with white clouds hovering above. The thick moss hung like the curtains she had seen in the houses of the white people she worked for. The rustling leaves preparing to take their final wave danced in with the soft wind blowing. Earth had begun to prepare for the harsh winters ahead.

Mikea had been collecting small branches of wood to start the fireplace they would be using for cooking and keeping the family warm on the harsh nights that would follow. She collected the fallen branches and wood kindling throughout the summer. She was the eldest girl, and this was her responsibility until it was safe for the other siblings to join in. Mikea’s brothers were not allowed to go far from home because of the hunt that the white men in her town made a weekly event. They would always capture some unsuspecting Negro boy and use him as game for hunting. In the end, they would celebrate in the victory of the kill.

She did not want to become a victim to these heartless and evil men. She never strayed far from home and always found an unusual stick or rock to add to her collection. She would paint these stones with white paint and line the front of the garden her grandmother had started years before. It was her way of rebuilding the once strong, gifted hand her mother once had. Her body was tired from the work in the white people’s house and the field.

The screams became louder and came from an opening in the woods that would be the path she usually used to go home. Quickly Mikea hid behind some leaves and covered herself completely. She left a small opening just for her eye to see what was happening and holding her breath at the same time. She was scared, and there was no one to help her. She had no clue as to what was happening and wanted no parts in it. She knew without a doubt that the male voices she heard belonged to the white man, and this meant some colored person would be meeting with an unexpected fate. She would not be a part of their evil and sick behavior. She pitied the woman with the screams and knew it would end soon. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. Fear struck her inside, and she remained silent and unseen.

Get that wench upright so she can see the face of the man that’s gonna ride her black ass, she heard one voice say.

She gonna know this white dick better than any old nigger cock! one man yelled.

Woo Hah! the other man yelled. She be a fighting heifer.

Mikea could hear what sounded like the slap of a bare hand on flesh. It was loud, and the woman screamed louder. The laughter of the men filled the air mixed with the screams of agony and pain. There was the sound of ripping of garments and the sound of bodies rustling. The woman stopped screaming as the last sound of a hand smashed across her face.

Mikea peeked from under the bushes and leaves covering her to see the men pound the woman’s lifeless body in sexual acts. They were each taking turns satisfying their nasty and evil hunger of colored flesh. How could these bastards enjoy pleasure in what they say they hated? she thought. For what seemed like an eternity, they had their fill with this woman, each taking turns.

After they had fulfilled their desires, one lit a cigar, and the other spit on her, laughing as he walked back to his horse. C’mon boys, her ass be left for the wolves. Ain’t nobody gonna be looking for a mouthy nigger wench. One by one they climbed on their horses and rode back towards town.

Still scared to move, Mikea remained motionless behind the bushes under the leaves. Instinct told her she was still in danger and had to wait until the sounds of the hooves would be a silent echo. Her mind was asking so many questions for which she had no answers. Her body was trembling, and she wished she had stayed home instead of going on her adventures. This was too close to home for her, and she knew she would never leave the safety of her home alone again.

She heard the woman moan and saw her turn her head towards the place Mikea was hiding. With her bloodstained hands waving weakly, she beckoned for Mikea. Afraid, Mikea hesitated and waited. The woman was trying to say something, but there was only a whisper. Laying very still Mikea’s instinct warned her not to move. A startling sound of rustling leaves deepened her fear. She saw the leaves move as if something was coming from behind them. The sounds grew closer and closer. She could hear soft cries as the steps approached. There was an eerie suspense that hung over her. What started out to be an innocent and welcoming day turned into a gray and dismal evening. The surroundings felt cold and evil.

There in the midst of the now silent woods stood a black man with his hands holding his head. His clothing barely hung together by the threads they were made with. Long braids hung from his shoulders, covering visible scars from a recent whipping. He cried softly. Mikea could hear him say, I can’t help you now, but I’s gonna make them pay for what they do to you. Mikea wanted to cry for the woman who lay there with her eyes fixed on her. Fear kept her nestled underneath the leaves she used for hiding. Her fate would be death or rape if she let anyone know she was there. For now, she remained quiet as ever for her the safety of her own life.

The man kneeled down next to the woman. He took her hand and kissed it while she lay still. The man tried to turn her head to see his face; she turned back to where Mikea lay in hiding. The man asked her to say something. She only whispered. Her body had been beaten and ripped by white men that found joys in imposing hurt and pain on the Negro man and women.

The minutes seemed like hours, and Mikea could see the sun hiding behind the moss-covered trees. Her mama would be looking for her. She had to make it home before the sting of worry engulfed her family. There were stories whispered amongst the colored folk regarding the fate of many of their women and young Negro girls in the sadistic town. Kneeling down, the man picked the woman up and walked back to the path he had taken.

Mikea silently prayed for her to live. All she could hear was the cries of both and the rustling of the trees followed by footsteps. The woman would never be whole again. She had endured much suffering in so little time, and it would last her a lifetime. Mikea lay sobbing silently and knew she had to gather the courage to move from her hidden place and find safety in her own home.

Afraid, she lay still for just a little while longer while listening to her surroundings. In the distance, she heard a familiar voice calling her name. She knew it was her mother, and quickly she embarked from her hiding place to greet her. Running towards the voice, she peered around her to make sure no one had seen her in the bushes. She ran, and the voice seemed to be coming from the path she would use to go home. It sounded as if the voice was leading her home instead of coming towards her. Finally, she saw the opening in the trees and the little wooden shacks built for the Negro community. Her sister was coming out of the outhouse and waved as Mikea darted towards their house with empty hands.

Chapter 2

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F or the wealthy landowners, they still brought colored men and women screaming out of the illegal shops that still harbored a hatred for those not like them. They would unload most of them right in New Orleans and sell them for a higher dollar amount because they did not speak the language and they did not know the laws of slavery had been abolished, and freedom was granted to every man regardless of his skin color. The rich and powerful men of Shadowed Woods and surrounding areas bought colored people to remain ahead of those beneath them. They were high authority men in their community, and no one dared ask questions. These men and women were used to work the fields and raising the children in the families that owned them. In return, they were given very little to survive in their own houses. The white women did as they were told and did very little bickering regarding the affairs of their husbands.

Johnny Boone was one of those colored men that adhered to the commands of these evil men and did exactly as he was told. It gave him a sort of power above the colored folk who suffered at the hands of these white men. He was safe because he was the boy of one of the evilest men that had ever walked the streets of Shadowed Woods, Louisiana. He was free to come and go when most colored men hid and never walked freely about town. Johnny was a good-looking, tall-built man. His complexion was dark bronze, and his clothes were not tattered and torn like the other colored people. Though he had a sense of freedom, it was on a short rope. He was the reporter to the white man regarding the actions and plans of the colored people. He had a covered wagon to drive, and nearly every white man knew he was the sheriff’s boy. He was able to greet these white people and look them in the eyes. He knew that as long as he remained with the sheriff, he would be safe. Johnny found an interest in one of the housemaids that worked for Mr. Myers’ mother-in-law, Ella Mason. He was a regular there fixing her porch or building shelves in odd places.

Their house maid, Akata, was bought straight off the black market on a port in New Orleans, Louisiana. Though sales of slaves had been abolished, many white men did not adhere to these laws in many of the Southern states. This did not keep those that disagreed with the new law of slavery from continuing their beliefs on the black market. Though most slaves ran to their already given freedom, many remained to gain the trust of their keepers. Some gained property for remaining and working the land in exchange.

Their freedom was very limited. In the harsh winter of 1885, there was a new shipment of captured slaves brought to the port of New Orleans. The auctions would not be held until the wee hours of the mornings when most of the people were snuggled safely in their beds. This bidding was done in secret to avoid others becoming aware of the illegal acts of selling men and women for slaves. In a dark and musty warehouse lit only by lanterns these acts would take place. There were wooden crates used as a platform for the colored men and women to stand on during the auction. The men and women captured would be led off the ships chained together to be displayed. They had already been dipped in a barrel of lye soap and scrubbed before the sales. Their hair had been shaved, and old clothes had been given to them to wear.

Many of the women and already met with a fate that would remain with them until their deaths. Some of the younger girls had been passed around like bread to the men on the ships. Their bodies kept the scars for souvenirs. These acts were against their wills, and there was nothing the others who lay chained could do. The long journey had taken most of their fight away. The fear in their eyes would determine their obedience to their new Masters.

Barely alive and many starving, the men and women stayed silent until they were sold. They smelled from the long journey across the waters to their new homes. Some had been thrown overboard because of rebellious acts and had met their deaths in the process. Akata remained silent and wanted to live. She often whispered a song her mother often sang to her as a small child when she was ill.

"Baba, Mo N’owo Mi Si O

Baba, mo n’ owo mi si O;

Nko mo ‘ranwo miran:

Bi O ba kuro lodo mi,

A! nibo ni ngo lo?"

Her prayers gave her strength and kept her focused and gave her a will to live. Ẹlẹdàá n wo o si yoo bú awọn irugbin rẹ fun awọn iran ti mbọ. (Translated: The Creator is watching and will curse your seeds for generations to come.) She was afraid and didn’t understand what these men were saying. Their language was unfamiliar, as were their ways. On the ship, when they were brought to the deck, she listened and paid attention to the movements and actions of these men. There was a fire burning within her that would avenge her family’s death. Eṣu funfun awọ buburu will pay, she vowed.

Arriving in New Orleans, the sun was shining even though there was a chill in the air that matched the evil in her capturers. Still, they were left chained below the ship in a musty room that had very little air and room to move around. They would remain below deck until it was night. There was only a lantern hanging by the entrance of the door that cast a dismal shadow of the movement of the people held there. The moans and groans continued for hours, and some were vomiting bile because of the hunger in their empty stomachs.

They were returned to the ship after their hair had been shaved in fear of lice, and they had been washed in lye soap. Surely, she thought, this was the hell her grandparents had told her about. She could only wonder what torment lay ahead for her and the rest of the human cargo.

As the door opened, Akata stood with the other cargo of men and women. White men came in with guns and ordered them off one by one. On the port, they were met with other white men with guns and a few that were of dark skin. Their demeanor was nasty and hate-filled their hearts. The human cargo was ordered to an opened door of the warehouse and ordered to sit on the floor. There was a room of white men and women clothed in garments that were not familiar to her. Their stare was piercing. Fear embedded Akata as she walked to the area instructed. Her nostrils were filled with fragrances she had never experienced. The strangeness of these encounters made her more afraid. The eyes peering over her like she was meat for sale were filled with hatred