When we not doing all them things, she take us down to watch the great gang. The field slave them mark out a trench, then dig up the earth with them hoes. Bend down low, laying out old cane stalks, one behind the other. Cover them over, dig in animal manure. All day long you hear Winston shouting out orders, cracking him whip. Is him that blow the conch shell every morning to call the slaves out to work. Winston dark like Thomas and is easy to see the slaves him favour, the ones him don’t. Work them all harder, if them move too slow. And when him shout is time to catch a rest, we must run fetch water to give them a little drink.

Mostly women in the great gang and them have to be plenty strong to do all that field work.

Calla always muttering, ‘Massa stupid if him think him can work a woman like she a bullock, then turn round, expect her to push out pickney. Give him a bonus.’

And when the canefield them ripening and we get strong enough, us little ones spend all day in the hot sun weeding.

‘It go round and round,’ Calla tell us one day when we taking a rest. We under the shade of a big guango tree overlooking the canefield them. She pick up a stick, use it to draw a circle in the dirt like she stirring a pot. ‘One big circle that start from when the cane get planted,’ and she make a mark at the top, ‘then they grow big. Get chopped down.’ Another mark on the circle. ‘Field slave dem take the cane to the mill where they get crushed.’ Another mark. ‘Boil the juice. Boil it all day. Boil it all night.’

‘Den what happen?’ Ellen and Jane ask at the same time.

‘Turn to syrup. Left to dry. Get put into barrels. Is sugar make Massa rich. Sugar, molasses and rum. When the weather is good like now, him make plenty money, get even richer.’

I look at the circle. Notice a bit still not marked.

‘What happen to the barrel dem?’ I ask her.

‘Get taken to Montego Bay where big ships come take dem away. Travel long time on the seas till dey reach the Mother Country.’

‘Mother Country?’ Thomas ask. None of us know what she mean.

‘Is what Massa call the place him family come from. Mind you. Massa not born there. Him born right here. Right here on this island,’ knocking her cane on the dirt. ‘Is why him called a Creole. Just like you,’ looking from one face to the other.