Whatever sweetness she have for Eliza, none of it there for me. I suddenly want to grab her up, shake her. Give her a piece of me mind. Lift me hand to strike her, like I wanted to so many times before. But standing there in the strong light of the afternoon sun, I see Stella in a different way. Hiding in her eyes is a frightened, angry creature. A creature wriggling in the web of slavery, filled with a bottomless despair. A despair she keep hidden, inside her anger, when she veil her eyes, put on her snake smile. And she not so young no more. Not so pretty. She worn down. When I come to see this, is me that soften. Bend down, kiss her forehead. Wipe away a bit of dirt I see on her face.

‘You feel good today, Mama?’ I ask. ‘Any sign of sickness?’

Stella shake her head. ‘No sickness, praise the Lawd. But me getting weary, Will. So weary. Have to stay up half the night help serve Massa visitor from the plantation close by. Water down the liquor. Make sure they don’t get too drunk, start roam the grounds. Cause too much trouble.’

‘Like what happen to Mary?’

Stella nod and I can see the sorrow of it pass cross her face.

‘Poor little ting. She only twelve, too young to learn what it mean to be slave woman. Don’t know she must hide when she see backra coming along the path carrying torches, looking for tender young flesh. Not know she must run fast so they don’t catch her. Drag her to the ground. Have dem way with her, one after the other.’

It happened a season back, late at night, right on the path up to the slave village. We all heard the screaming before Massa go stop the men.

Massa did nothing much else. Gave her a few coins. Told Calla to fix her up.

We all felt shame for Mary, but shame can’t change the pain and hurt she felt. Was wretched to see how she turned back into a pickney, stared at nothing, her mouth hanging slack. No more singing. Wouldn’t look at me when I stopped by the kitchen. Melon kept her busy scrubbing pots and pans, feeding the dogs, till she started to return to the living. Never the same though. If anybody shout at her, she wet herself and start to shake.

I see Stella looking back at Eliza sitting quietly by the rocks. I know what she thinking. Going take all her strength to protect her daughter, and is a battle she know in her heart she may not win.