This is one big surprise! Massa born with the same earth running round inside as me. I always think Massa must come from somewhere else. Is what give him the power him have over us. When I ask Calla bout it, she tighten her lips. Say no more. Instead, she get us to help her up off the stump she been sitting on.

‘Is one strange world we live in,’ looking down at the circle in the dirt, ‘all this suffering,’ she say. ‘So people can have a little bit of sweetness in dem tea.’

With that, she use her cane to rub out the circle like she rubbing out some stubborn, dirty mess on the floor of her hut.

Crop season come round, mean the cane ripe, ready for cutting, taking to the mill and the plantation turn plenty plenty busy. All the slaves work together with Massa, Winston and Busha Davis the overseer. We work through the daytime, sometimes into the night-time, till just before dawn break. Even us young ones. Is our job to carry water, bring food. Run behind the bullock cart, picking up the cut cane piece them that fall off as it rumble up the stone path to the cattle mill.

The first time it seem like a game, but when we reach the mill, I know is not. Is a frightening place. Smell bad and is stinking hot. Many a time some poor slave get him hand burn up when him feeding the fire pots. Even him feet can get burn, the floor so hot.

One time, in the middle of the night, I hear screaming. Screaming like I never hear before. When I look, I can’t believe it. Is a slave. Him hand getting mash up in the rollers. Must be fall asleep standing up when him pushing the cane through. Winston run past me, rush over. Get the cutlass and with one blow, chop off the arm. What a lot of blood, it go everywhere.

‘Poor wretch,’ Massa say after the screaming slave get carried away, before him look round. Notice that me just standing there with me mouth open.

‘Come here, boy,’ him shout. ‘Go get rags and water and clean up this mess.’

Winston push me in the back to make haste. ‘Hurry up. Hurry up now,’ him say, while me and the other slave them get down on hands and knees, start cleaning the bloody stone floor.

Then Massa turn on Winston. ‘Why are we waiting? Start up the rollers again. Hurry up. Hurry up now. You know the cut cane will spoil if it’s left idle for too long.’

‘Yes, Massa. Right away, Massa,’ Winston say, bowing and scraping.

Then everybody keep going, working just like nothing happen. When Calla come back from the hot house where the slave them go that get sick and wounded, she start muttering bout bad luck come in threes.