Lifeline

By Arnette Adoboli

Perhaps it was divine providence and not chance that Beaufort, South Carolina, was to witness the onset of the Civil War-occupation of the Union Army, and unlike its southern counterparts, spared the kindle torches of Sherman's determination to destroy the Confederacy. As a result, it preserved its natural beauty of live oak trees, picturesque homes, and cultural beliefs and customs generic to the Sea Islands. The plantation lifestyle was serene, ornate, and beautiful for the white slave master, but laborers on them did not enjoy the same fate. A midwife on the Rices' plantation delivered a black slave baby through uncanny and unconventional techniques. The child grew up to challenge the prescribed norms and expectations of a slave, subsequently transcending outmoded ideas. He became the administration officer of farming affairs during reconstruction. Other short stories depict and describe the West African influence in customary beliefs and social norms, delineating the flavor of the low-country Southern lifestyle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781641383707

Book preview

The Birth

Long exhausting days on the Rice plantation was as common as breathing air. Joseph, a slave on the plantation, was at the end of his day. He found himself reflecting on their move from Tidewater, Virginia.

His master had been an industrialist there, but he wanted to move to a warmer climate and have the possibility of creating a new life for his wife Marilyn. She had endured several miscarriages that had left her depressed and in poor health.

The move to Burton was a decision he could not totally wrap his head around. First of all, Mr. Rice had no idea about farming. This would be something completely foreign to him. He would need to get a totally different kind of slave; the ones he had now knew nothing about farming. The other concern was the climate in the low country was hot and muggy. And if that wasn’t enough, one had to endure the mosquitoes and the sand gnats during the summer.

Despite all these negatives, there were some things that could be considered positive. The Broad River, where the plantation was situated, was absolutely gorgeous. The perfectly manicured grass; the clean, fresh salty air; access to fresh seafood at any given moment; landscape of azaleas, camellias, wisteria, and any number of other flowering plants; and the area also had many beaches.

In this atmosphere, Mrs. Rice was actually thriving. Her health had gotten better to the point the color had returned to her cheeks. Mr. Rice had found a fellow farmer who helped him with the farm. The farm had become quite productive, and they had discovered innovative means to deal with the pest.

As Joseph walked toward the big house, he stopped and studied the sky intensely. The sun was a deep-red color, and it was moving silently behind the clouds in the east. He muttered to himself, It looks like we are in for a cold night.

He walked through the kitchen back door and noticed his wife Hattie slumped over the kitchen table. Hattie was in the ninth month of pregnancy, and the baby was expected any time now. She looked out of the corner of her eye and saw that Joseph had just walked in.

Holding her stomach, she commented, Oh, Joseph, it’s you. I am so glad you came a little earlier than usual. I’m not feeling that good.

I kinda see that. I was thinking something had to be wrong when I came through the door.

He took her hand and led her to a chair.

Come, let’s take a load off those feet of yours for a while.

I sure could use a little sit-down. Haven’t sat down all day. It’s been one thing after the other.

It sure seems to me that the mistress knows your condition. She should try to make the load a little lighter on you. Knowing you’d be coming any day now.

Mistress did offer some help for me from Dora, but you know Dora. That gal don’t know nothing about nothing. And besides that, she’s just plain lazy.

That’s besides the point. Let her do what she can do. You need help in your condition.

‘‘Now, Joseph, you know how I am. I like things done in a decent and orderly way. And you know that gal ain’t about nothing. I rather do it myself. At least, it’ll be done right."

‘‘I know, Hattie. You just you. Nobody can do a thing with you. Head is hard as that cast-iron pan over there."

I just about finish with supper, just need to get a bowl for the peas, and put the corn bread on the table.

Joseph responded, I could do that. That ain’t much to do.

You’ll do no such thing. I’m getting up from here and do it myself. I’m all right now.

Hattie slowly stood on her feet. Apparently, the few minutes off the feet had restored her strength. She busied herself with the preparation of the rest of the dinner. She also fixed Joseph a plate, which he ate as she finished up with her chores.

They left the big house and headed in the direction of their cabin.

Hattie mumbled to herself, I’m so glad I don’t need to fix dinner tonight. Elated, they both had eaten at the master’s house. They walked on in silence, until she felt a kick from the baby. She rubbed her belly and ran her hands tenderly over the surface of her stomach.

She commented to Joseph, I wonder what this baby gonna be. It sure is active. I wonder if it’s a girl. She had heard that girls were more active.

I’m sure it’s a boy. Yeah, that’s what I say. It is a boy. I put a boy in the oven, and that’s what’s coming out. A boy!

Oh, hush, Joseph, it’s no way you can know for sure. Everyone says that the more movement it makes, it means it’s a girl. This one sure do move a lot.

‘‘I don’t care what them old hags says it should be. I know what I know, and that’s a boy