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I Wrote This When I Was Young, so Don't Judge Me

In: Novels

Submitted By Spamman
Words 1256
Pages 6
“Money don’t grow on trees, sugarplum. We work hard to do what we do. Ya’ know why? ‘Cuz money don’t grow on trees. We do what we do with hopes to be free. But, let me explain, money don’t come to us black folks on trees.” I’m not sure it do, but that’s what my poppa told me when great-great grammie Loretta passed away. That was a sad day, yes it was. I cried. You can ask my poppa about how I cried for 2 weeks straight. Oh, how I cried. Maybe I’m getting’ way, way ahead of my-self. My name Loretta, too, and ain’t nobody tellin’ me my name is nothin else. That is not who I is! Anyway, I live on some plantation in northern Carolina and these parts ain’t kind to ya either. I work muh butt off to keep it from that mean, nasty, leather strip. I mean, I work hard- I don’t quit either. My poppa was born into slavery and his great-great grandpappy was a hick straight from the sticks. He mad at the white folks- but also his ancestors fer not fightin’ back. We do a lot of ‘hardships’ to remain happy, or so my granny used to say when I was a young’un. My life as a slave was not one u might expect.
Now, if you readin’ this, I’m most likely off living somewhere in the north. Now, that is the adventure of my life I don’t regret it one bit. Here’s how the story of a lifetime unfolds… It all started when a strange knock appeared on our door. Naturally, I ran to a small hole just big enough for me that my father had dug and covered the top with a blanket. I did this for protection against bad people. But it wasn’t anybody! So, I waited and waited. Plantation owners were known to play tricks on us. But what had happened was so much more. My friend Husha from church called my name. I perked my head up- to make sure that it wasn’t a trick. When I was reassured, I walked up to her and greeted her. She came with exciting news! We had a chance to escape our ratchet prison cell if we followed a brave girl who was known to help runaway slaves get to freedom in the north. Her name was Moses. As far as I knew Moses was a boy and I had a gut feeling to say no, but, my golly! A chance to escape, count me in! We were grateful for this offer- but we needed time to think about it. What if we got caught? I talked about it to my daddy and we got into a lot of discussions. Finally, he said yes. Looking back- I don’t know where I would be right now if he had said no to me that day. I surely would still be picking cotton from dawn to dusk and work at hard labor.
We left right on the strike of twelve. It was a cold winter night and we had no protection against the breeze. Moses was a young 27 year old girl who had a ton o’ energy left in her. She carried a gun, in case we get attacked by others. After a long walk which felt like almost all eternity, we stopped for a small break. My legs felt like blubber, and when I found out we walked for almost 3 hours, I nearly fainted. We kept walking, because in another two hours, they would found out we left, and come for us on horses, almost ten times our speed! This was our motivation for our walk, and we kept tugging on. We finally arrived at our first post, however. We then ate a good hearty meal- grits, bacon, and oatmeal- with brown sugga! I was satisfied and was ready to continue, when Moses told me not to. I was told that it is dangerous when everyone is all awake- and to leave only during the night time. It is much safer then, than in the broad daylight. This was unusual for me, and I kept trying to keep myself occupied. I felt hyper, but could not release the energy. Finally, Moses quit, and told me to go to sleep. I was confused at first, but later, I found out that Moses was not kidding. So, we all went to sleep. When I woke, it was already 9 o’clock and we ate a large meal to be full for the night. We ate and ate until we were full and headed off a minute later. There was a large wagon waiting for us, and we got on. As tired as I was, I tried to stay awake. As I may have mentioned before, I’m a lazy pants. A few hours later, I woke up and looked at where I was.
Then I was horrified. Some white men were pointing their guns at Moses. I then saw that the white men didn’t know we were there, which was good for us. But we had to help Moses somehow! She was trying to use hand gestures and stuff to tell us something. I was an expert at this because I did this at church to talk to Husha about stuff. Well, they had horses they had left a few meters back, and Moses was telling us to get on them to ride to freedom. My poppa knew how to ride horse Cuz my dad used one to farm and share crop. So we threw a rock quite a distance away from us and they pointed their guns away. Moses took advantage of this precious moment and punched one in the face, took his gun and shot the other in the leg, breaking his entire leg. Then, she pointed to a shotgun in the wagon; the one Moses kept with her. I saw it and grabbed it. Then I pointed it at the others while us three got out of the broken, bruised, and battered wagon and got onto the horses. Then, oh boy oh boy, wasn’t that exciting? Our next stop before we were rudely interrupted on our perilous journey was the train station. We were running as fast as the wind can here go; we would get there in no time at all! It was now time for the hardest part.
There was a big o’l sign that said “welcome to New Jersey!” WE WERE HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My golly, it was true! I was as happy as a raisin in the hot sun. I cheered! My pops had arranged for a hotel and work at a big metal thing called a “fractoree”. There were many girls muh age, and I was real happy. My dream had cume true! But there was a new thing the other girls called “schoolle”. It’s supposedly where you learn stuff. I asked my daddy if it safe, but it was. I got me a book with a lot o’ blank pages, sorta like a bible and a shiny, but real pointy, thing you use to “wright” with. My life was complete. I have always remembered this moment and now, I’m 96. I always tell my great grand-children this story, ahh the sweet fruits of earth, them children! Mercy, when they get to be my age. Now don’t be askin’ people how I learned to type, now. Well, go shoo now, I’m finished- it’s time for my nap.

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