Something feel different this morning. The air in the hut heavy like fowls when they brooding and the light that poking through the wattle is brighter than the day before. Is getting warm too early, the day going be a hot one. Mean is time to rouse meself, do some weeding and watering in the provision ground. It sit on the edge of the plantation close to the plantain walk. Stella used to plant it out, but now she have one beside her hut, so is left to me and James to tend it. We plant it out with okra, greens, yams, corn, have a little ackee tree. We lucky we have two places to grow food, is how Massa show him favour us. I know the other slave them envy us, think Massa treat us special. But is a hard road to walk on, living in a half world you know is yours by birth, yet you have no power to rule in it.

By noon I finish weeding, so I decide to have a wash and head to the river, the part flowing right cross the top of the plantation. Try avoid the part flowing near the Great House. Don’t want Melon chasing me down to help chop wood, take away garbage. Might even do a little bit of fishing. If I catch something, must give the fish to Melon to cook up for Massa. Him always telling us the river belong to him, mean anything in it is the same way. But today, I going keep one of them little fish back. Cook it up in secret, share a piece with James. Must be careful, though. The plantation full of eyes and ears ready to look, to listen, if a slave doing something they not supposed to. Run go tell Winston, Busha Davis or, if big enough, run tell Massa. Troublemakers. Only think bout what reward they going get. Let them take that little reward, but when they need help, see how long it going take before somebody come running.

Before I get there, hear the sweet sound of the river. Now me big enough, strong enough, to wade out into the middle where the water run deep and the current sometimes swift. When I was a pickney, used to walk upstream to find the little rock pool to lay down in. Look up through the trees, feel the sun on me skin. Feel it heal the sadness lying underneath. The last time I come cross it, it seemed so small, made me wonder how I even fit in there. Now me too big for that little rock pool, the dreams I used to have bout freedom. And I no longer wait and listen to hear William the Second calling out to join him in the cow pasture. Childhood over long ago, but I miss that time when everything was new, special. A time before learning me just a nobody. Nothing but chattel.