Rosie Beth Hompson walked down the long path way of her father's house and saw her uncle Wilson Henry in his carriage. She was now twenty with her long black hair pinned up with coils falling down her back. She fixed her hat and carried her bags as two slaves waved good bye to her. "Uncle!" She hopped in and Wilson told the coachmen to hurry along. "Oh how I missed you!" She hugged him closely and smiled some more. "What is it that you need?" Wilson closed the curtain to the carriage to block their view of the coach men. He leaned in close to her.
"Rosie do you promise not to tell," he said seriously.
"I'm twenty not four just tell all ready!" He hushed and told her to not to be so damn loud. She sighed and shrugged. "Of course. What may it be?"
"Emi you know her?" Rosie nodded. "Well she was sold away because she was a mulatto."
"Half white, half-nigger," Rosie whispered. "No wonder why she hid her face. Oh was she pretty?"
"Very and Rosie please don't use that word," Wilson said feeling guilty. "I held her when she was born. She was small but an angel." Rosie lifted a brow. Why was he being was loving to the memory of one of his slaves. "Rosie,Juna mothered her but I fathered her." Rosie gasped in shock.
"Uncle don't tell me you raped Juna," Rosie became mad in her words. Wilson gasped and grew angry too.
"No! Never, I loved her to much to do such a thing. We carried our affair for years then Emi was born. She found out about the two of us. Afraid since she was very talkative girl and one of the slaves or overseers might just tell and get all three of us hung. I sold her." He grimaced at that word "sold". "She didn't deserve to die at a young age or be sold like a piece of furniture. I gave up all my slaves and made them free. Moved to the North with Juna. I wanted another baby but when she was pregnant with my son her was born dead then she became sick." Rosie began to shake with tears.
"Where's Emi?" Wilson smiled at her holding her shaky hand.
"She's perfectly safe. She's in another plantation," Wilson said. Rosie wiped her tears.
"So does this mean she's my cousin?" Rosie smiled. Wilson nodded full of joy. "What will we do when we get there?"
"We'll hug her that's what and I'll apologize for not being there and tell her about Juna's passing."
Emi sat by Adam as he played the piano. Bonnie was out for a walk with Mr.Thompson to have a long talk. Mrs. Thompson was with her friends at the country club and the other slaves where in the slave quarters sleeping or taking long breaks. Emi watched as his fingers went over each key and played a beautiful symphony that just came from his finger tips like magic. She smiled at him and he at her. "Why don't you sing to this. You can make up the words as we go." Emi smiled.
"Okay," she giggled. She placed her hair behind her back and sung out a lullaby. Adam's fingers moved across the piano keys as she did and he smiled as he played as did she. When she finished she looked at him,. "How was I?" She asked.
"Very good," he said. "I can write it down for you in lettering and the musical notes." He smiled at her. Emi raised an eyebrow.
She gulped feeling the words she was going to say might embarrass her. "I can't read," she said. Adam raised an eyebrow and tilted his head confused. She was right it was embarrassing. She lowered her head and got up. "I think I'll go sit with Reda," she said stammering. He grabbed her wrist and sat her back down.
"I can teach you how to read," he said smiling. She began to smile some more. "I have some old children books you can read. It's a start don't you think?" Emi nodded in agreement. It was a fact, Adam was the nicest person in the world but then again they could get in trouble.
"We can get in trouble if you teach me to read." She said with sudden fear in her voice.
Adam snickered. "I'll keep it secret," he said. "Only if you promise too."
"I promise," Emi said. She was actually going to read, well learn to really.
Adam gave her a paper and a pencil to write her name,date,and about herself:
eighteen (I no because i was born in Maye.)
i hav no mama or dad.
At least some of her words made sense.