Fifteen Promises

By T.D. Desso

We all search for ways to escape pain. Laura, a slave living in the nineteenth century, knows this better than anyone. Her owner promises any of his female servants freedom if she gives birth to fifteen healthy slaves. The suffering that Laura endures makes this proposal all the more enticing, but she must not allow her desire for freedom to betray her own children and forsake them in bondage. Nor can she allow her own soul to become clay-molded, spinning, and pressed on the wheel of human suffering.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781644712320

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Fifteen Promises

T. D. Desso

ISBN 978-1-64471-231-3 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64471-232-0 (Digital)

Copyright © 2019 T. D. Desso

All rights reserved

First Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books, Inc.

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

Table of Contents

Let There Be Darkness

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Incubation

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

House of Cards

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

About the Author

Part One

Let There Be Darkness

Chapter 1

April 1805

Even a slave can live in bliss. Her life of confinement had no room for misery. As long as security was had, she found the happiness that plantation gates can offer until basic, human securities were swept away with the winds. While others had retired to slave quarters with only half an hour before dark, Laura and Caleb played together in their vegetable garden. Besides their own clothes, gardens were all Master allowed them to own.

Caleb stopped patting the dirt above the seed he and she had just planted and merely let his hands rest on the ground palm-up as he stared into Laura’s face. He smiled, and so did she. Laughter eventually replaced words that they both seemed timid to say. And with the back of his hand, for his palms were soiled, he touched her cheek and shook his head thoughtfully in unbelief.

What is it, Caleb?

But he paid her sigh and false frustration no mind, and yet, smiling, he shook his head again, this time more slowly to frustrate her more.

Laura, you knows my mind. Now what in d’ worl’ could I be thinkin’?

His broad smile, as sure as fire, blazed a trail deeper into her heart. And again, he touched her chin and raised her shy head.

Stop it now, Caleb! You look at this here garden and look at d’ sun. It’s a-goin’ down, and we’s got to finish plantin’ these seeds in d’ ground.

Sighing, Caleb plummeted to the dirt, then looked around at what they had already accomplished, some planted as far back as two weeks ago. Those had already sprouted.

Meanwhile, they did not realize the far but watchful eyes of Master Harper. As he stood in the master window, he adjusted his bifocals a fifth time as to, if possible, shorten the distance between the big house and the two ant-size lovers on the far side of the slave quarters. Harper turned his head around, but without losing his stance or releasing his clasped hands behind his back, when he realized that Mrs. Harper had said to him something or another. A grunt he gave to pretend to have heard, but he turned again to watch out of the window.

What do you see, dear? Missus Harper could not ask without first letting out a sigh. She never glanced up from her knitting work, and it was as if she created the silence in the room by intention. Love is not a bad thing, you know… she went on with more casualness in her tone. I guess there is one difference between our property out there and our property in our bedroom: these two old pieces of furniture cannot make more.

Maxwell’s eyes fell upon the windowsill while contemplating her observation and insinuation. Nervously he felt her eyes now lift up onto him as he had his back toward her, and he eventually acknowledged the statement and continued his own observation, adjusting his bifocals a sixth time.

Caleb had patted as many seeds and sprouts as he could but lost focus again; rather he gained focus on Laura. She was humming now, as she usually did. Eventually, he made the girl look up again when his hands, which were in her view, had stopped moving. When she did gaze back at him, with the same hesitancy as one taking another step in the dark, he took his sweet time to say what was on his mind.

Do you remember, Laura, what I told you? My plans to do with you?

The girl’s coy smile became an even more coquettish, straight lip, an apprehending pucker; yet there was trust in her eyes, and her head began to nod very slowly, and her stare fell again to the ground.

Yes… I ’memba what you said to me… What you asked me… She swallowed but with no success, still feeling a pile of nerves in her throat.

And, Laura, I’s still gon do dat. I’s gon ask Massa Ha’pa if I can marry you.

And not knowing what else to do for their staring, she lifted her hands to touch his shoulder. Moving her hand down just a bit on the other side of his body, she could feel, even through his shirt, the healing lacerations from Caleb’s last whipping.

In the passing of another several minutes, after the two young servants had retired, Maxwell Harper walked to the corner of the room, past where his wife sat, and grabbed his cane. Then dismissing himself, he winded with a hobble down the staircase and out of the house. His three overseers made their way together toward the verandah where Harper stood. And behind the men were a setting sun and a silent field.

’Notha day. ’Notha job well done, one of the slave drivers greeted his boss.

Harper looked to his left and found a small table set for the three men—a whole chicken, corn bread, beans, and a jug of whatever would keep them up laughing and fighting until the early morning. After finally smelling the food, he took two steps in that direction, sat in one of the rocking chairs, and broke off a piece of corn bread.

They’s all in fur’ da’ night, Mr. Harp’a, another driver said by the time they came to the verandah. Good night to set out wid us and eat wid us, boss, if you—

But as if angry with the lot of them, Harper pushed up from the chair, swallowing corn bread so harshly that it shuddered the wild whisker on his throat, and he hobbled right past them toward the fields. Only a few seconds more, as if the verandah were under attack, he could hear the creaking of the chairs behind him as well as plates and utensils rattling.

The sun had hidden completely by the time he came to the garden at the end of slave row. That was what they called their complex of twelve cabins in two rows, both rows stretching over thirty yards. As for most of the five-foot spaces between the cabins, the slaves had altered to small gardens, each garden touching against the side of a cabin on either side. Coming from the house, he had passed up five before coming to Caleb’s and Laura’s on the end, just a stone’s throw from the woods that closed in the plantation.

But the young people’s humble garden, unlike all the others, lay outside the shadow of the nearest cabin. Turning fully about himself, he observed their green work and hated to be impressed. From the time he first stepped in that fertile dirt, he tried to be careful both with his feet and his cane, for even he could relate with his slaves wanting to preserve what had grown through toil. Though much playfulness had occurred just moments before in that same spot, as he could clearly see from his bedroom window, he could not deny the hard work.

On the other hand, with their other duties, where had they found the time to keep this extra hobby anyway, he considered. But not thinking on it for long, he simply categorized the thought with other occasions when the folk had surprised him with any noble quality or skill they possessed.

He had spent several minutes now standing there, and he began to lose strength in his legs. Walking around would help, he knew, but he desired not to leave the garden just yet. Though no fruit had come out of it hitherto, besides a few sprouting leaves, which could not yet tell what the fruit would be, the garden still possessed a magnitude. Searching about him once more—for he had done so multiple times since coming—he saw no one around as witness.

Then, with his cane, he began to stab the fertile dirt all around him, first somewhat slowly as he still looked around, but the tempo of his puncturing sped until he had fulfilled his desire—whatever his desire was. The idea to destroy the garden had not entered his mind while walking there, and by the time he realized how he acted impulsively, he stayed his cane. But it was too late; the man’s cane had brought death to everything in the garden.

Another look around, and there was nothing but darkness still. The slave quarters, the first of which standing only ten yards away, had no persons in their windows though a little light came from within. And slowly he hobbled out of the garden and back toward the house.

His greedy men still sat, almost lying and lounging, on the verandah as he knew they would be. The house slaves would commonly prepare a dinner for the men at the end of each day, but he wondered why they must eat it on his verandah rather near the two overseers’ cabins. One said something to him when he came within range, but he could not make out what he had said; neither did he care. How to get rid of them—and still get the work done around the plantation—was always in his bulk of contemplations.

Chapter 2

The promise Caleb made to Laura never drifted far from the front of his mind. The morning bell rang, and the thought came up with his eyelids. Laura was the one who rang the bell, he knew, for that was her duty every morning after she helped Aunt Virginia prepare the servants’ breakfast.

Caleb had lost count of the times he and Laura talked about it. He guessed he had made that promise to her about fifteen times. But he was not hesitant, just without opportunity to ask Master Harper. Today would likely be another passing day.

The young man happened to be cursed with strength in servitude and could never be more than a field hand, so Caleb only saw Master Harper when he sat on his verandah or was riding off the plantation in his buggy. He rode like an unapproachable god in his chariot.

Caleb had a few friends who were house servants, whom he had asked, When you’re serving, remember me, and Mention me to Master. But after all this time, it seemed that they had forgotten him so that he could not gain an audience.

His palms ran across his eyes, and Caleb got up from his sleeping place along with five other male slaves with whom he shared a cabin. Out of twelve cabin doors, the line flooded toward the bell while the food was still there. And the fact that all the slaves were like family did not matter when they hustled and strived to move up even one space. Laura, under Aunt Virginia’s watchful eyes, just a couple feet away, portioned out the grits that hit each of the forty bowls of those able to work.

As the young man waited in line with his bowl in hand, he watched Laura and could not wait until he came to the front.

Git dem chilluns! somebody shouted.

Caleb looked down and noticed the kids, Porter and Cedric, in line directly in front of him, and they fought to hold the one bowl they shared. Caleb reached down, pulled the twin boys apart, and scolded them for not being with their mother. When he asked the boys of their mother’s whereabouts, they did not know.

Y’all come up’eh wid me. The twins’ next to oldest brother, Talley, grabbed them by their bare chests and brought them up three places in line.

Caleb expected some kind of thank-you from the older brother, if for no other reason that Talley was one of Caleb’s five cabin mates, but a thank-you never came. As far as Caleb was concerned, he had found that entire family to be trouble.

After some time, Caleb was six places from the bell and close enough to distract Laura with his smile. But there came another interruption. Just then, the negro overseer—Jolly was his name—approached Caleb.

Massa say you goin’ wid him t’day on his buggy ride. So eat in a hurry ’n git to da house.

Caleb did not respond as quickly as Jolly would have liked, but through a confused, yet unrelenting, face, he finally acquiesced. Yasuh, he whispered with a grunt. Neither did Caleb ask the overseer the reason Master wanted him.

Jolly held out his hand, and Caleb hesitantly hit his palm with the bowl. After Laura had filled it, Jolly gave it back, and Caleb began to walk away. But then Jolly stayed at the front of the line to approach Laura. By then, Caleb had gone out of earshot, but when Jolly had spoken, Laura seemed startled just a bit.

Caleb did eat quickly, not because he was told—he had little respect for negro overseers—rather for the prospect of asking Master Harper if he could marry Laura, which overshadowed his qualms about why Master Harper would take him anywhere. On a buggy ride? It was mysterious. True, he had never gone on a buggy ride, but neither had he ever asked to marry a girl. The latter outweighed the former. When he had finished his grits, he departed from the crowd of field hands to get back to his cabin to clean and put away his bowl.

He had barely opened his cabin door on his way out when he heard his name whispered. It was Laura with her head around the corner.

Caleb, she called again, and he could not deny her. Starting in her direction, the contented glow of his dark face seemed to settle her.

What is it? But before she could answer, he thought of another question. Hey! What was Jolly talkin’ t’you about?

Laura hushed him as if they were headed to a secret place. She walked so quickly Caleb could barely keep up with her as she weaved through slave rows’ cabins. They hopped over gardens between shacks and dodged corners, and in a few seconds, they both stood at their destroyed garden.

The morning air became thick. Laura, who had seen it already, would not speak until Caleb did.

What happened to it? he asked with the rage of a violated beast.

The garden was gone, and he looked for someone to blame.

One of the servants had already told Laura what happened. That servant had seen Master stabbing its ground just after sunset, and Laura was now hesitantly communicating that to Caleb. Master Harper being the culprit, they knew better than to make any verbal objections, and in the silence, the two could picture in their minds the exact places where their seeds had once grown. They could even imagine the plants in their full bloom,