Pretty soon, we reach the main crossroad. Instead of heading further west towards the quarry, we continue following the road heading north towards the coast and Montego Bay. The night before, I didn’t sleep, too much excitement. But as the heat start to rise, and I start to sweat, all the excitement drain away. All I can think bout is when we going stop, take cover under some shade.

By bout noon, we reach the entrance to the first plantation Mister Buchanan been asked to stop at. We not expected to stay, to lay the stone, just to make a delivery. We turn down the path that lead to the massa house. Is not really a plantation to speak of, more like animal pen. The owner rear a few cattle. Some goats, some hogs. Grow a little pimento on the side. Is much smaller than Rock Pleasant and I can see as we trundle along how run down everything is, nothing well taken care of. We pull up out the front. Mister Buchanan expecting to be greeted the way a visitor is greeted, with a cool drink, a wet cloth to wipe away dirt from hands and face, after spending time in the dusty heat. The owner must be a miserly man, because there is no such welcome. Instead, him shout out for him slave them to come help take stones off the cart. Pile them up round the back in the yard. Is only then him offer refreshment. Mister Buchanan to him credit make sure I get a little bit of what leave-over.

While him resting, I make me way round the back talk to some of the slave them. They tell me the massa not the owner, but accountant, drunk most of the time. Is the driver what run every thing. If him like you is good, if not, is trouble. And they always scratching round for something to eat because them provision grounds on rocky, dry land. What a sour place to be chained to. It make me spirits low and glad Mister Buchanan decide not to stay too long.

Next we visit the plantation where Sydney daughters got sold to. Ellen and Jane turn into fine young women, and them very glad to get the coins Sydney sent. Luckily, it take a few days to fix up the stone wall that go right round the plantation. So when the working day done, we stay up most of the night talking bout when we was pickneys. How we used to run round the yard chasing the fowl them. How Calla and her bony knuckles would knock us on the head. How it was a good thing that for a short while we didn’t know how slave life going turn out to be.