Then Busha Davis notice what Pell have in him tight little fist. The buckle. Him try to grab it, but Pell hold it fast. Finally Busha Davis lift him stick, hit Pell cross him back. Cross him legs. Hit him hard and Pell scream loud, louder every time him get hit. By this time, everybody start gather round. Start to whisper, shake them head. Finally Massa show up.

‘Hold your fire, Davis,’ him say. ‘We can’t afford to lose another slave. Especially after that runaway got killed. Cost me too much already. Pell may be slow, but we can find a use for him.’

‘He’s stolen my buckle. We can’t let him get away with this. We must set a good example.’

‘Point taken,’ Massa say. ‘At least you got your buckle back. Lost mine at the races. I haven’t seen it since.’ Then Massa pull out him pocketwatch, take a good look. ‘Eleven o’clock, it must be close to second breakfast,’ him say. ‘Come, let us eat. Melon has prepared some fish and those plantain fritters you like.’

Massa turn aside, take a good look at me before him tell Stella, ‘Go fetch Calla,’ and with that, him and Busha Davis enter the Great House. Don’t give Pell another thought.

By this time, poor little Pell curled up on the ground like unripe ackee. Him bruised and bleeding from all the blows. Finally Calla come. Get one of the older slave them to help carry him back up to her hut.

‘Bad luck number two,’ I hear her mutter when she hobble past me.

Everybody go back to work like nothing happen. But for me, is one big shock.

Not just the beating, but what I see us slaves do. Notice how we just stand there, dumb like the animals. Do nothing when little Pell howl for him mother while him get beat. Even Stella. She just stay quiet, hold me close. Clutch me hand. Squeeze it so hard, I think it going drop off.

‘Why nobody do nothing?’ I ask her as we walk away.

She tell me, ‘Hush up, mind you own business.’ Try cover up that she trembling.

After little Pell get beat, is like the world I used to live in suddenly change. Stella don’t send me off to Calla hut no more. Now, in the morning, I have to go round the back of the Great House to weed in Massa provision ground. Run errands, sweep the yard, chase the piglets, just like what Calla teach us. Sometimes at night, must sleep outside Massa door, in case him need me to fetch something. Thomas get sent to work under Winston, learning how to be a field slave. As to little Pell, him turn shy, fret all the time, afraid of him own shadow. Left to sit in a pen under the shade of a big old silk-cotton tree. Smiling at nothing, shaking his head.