Mockingbird's Call Read Free Page A

must always take care to provide medicine and care for the slaves, Amelia. It’s our Christian duty to them. And it will ensure that we’ll never be troubled by a slave uprising.”
    Amelia nodded, but she wondered. If that had been her little girl, would she have been so thankful for a basket of food and medicine? “Can’t we make their quarters warmer?”
    Her mother sniffed. “They don’t need warmth like we do. They are accustomed to harsher circumstances. Just as there is a danger in ignoring their needs, there is a danger in coddling them too much.”
    Coddling? Amelia didn’t think basic comfort was coddling. She opened her mouth to argue, but the coachman pulled up at the front steps and ended their conversation. She would remember to ask Papa later. Perhaps he would be more sympathetic to his workers’ needs.
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    Amelia pushed against the pommels of her sidesaddle to get a higher vantage point and looked all around the fields. The fall harvest had begun even though it was barely September. She could see the dark heads of the field workers as they toiled in the bright sunlight to the shouts and warnings of the overseer. She winced as the crack of a whip carried to her over the hot wind. She hoped none of Nelly’s family was being punished.
    In the months since she had first visited Nelly’s cabin with her mother, Amelia had often dropped by to see how little Sadie was progressing. It had taken the girl a long time to recover from the pneumonia, but the cough had finally disappeared as the hot summer days grew longer. Amelia had taken Sadie gifts, trinkets really—a pan of biscuits, a handkerchief made of soft lawn, and a shift she had cut from one of her old nightgowns. She thought of the gift she brought today, eager to see a smile on little Sadie’s face.
    Now she glanced around to make certain no one was watching as she turned her mare’s head toward the group of slave cabins her parents called the quarters. Mama and Papa would skin her if they knew what she was doing. They had strict views on which slaves she could befriend.
    Tabitha, her personal maid, was an acceptable friend and confidante. Tabitha was the daughter of Esau, the butler, and Rahab, the mulatto cook. As higher-echelon slaves, Esauand Rahab had been allowed to marry and lived in much nicer accommodations than those to be found in the quarters. She and Tabitha were very close in age, having been born only a month apart. She often pulled Tabitha into scrapes, like wading barefoot in the stream or sneaking fresh cream out to the barn cat after she delivered a litter of tiny, mewing kittens. But if they were caught, she was always quick to accept the total blame, aware that her punishment would always be lighter than that of a slave.
    That was why Amelia had never brought Tabitha with her to the quarters. If Papa ever caught her friend out there, he’d probably sell her to one of the neighboring landowners. He had very strict rules about the house slaves keeping separate from the field slaves. The only time they were allowed to be in the same building together was on Sundays at church, and even then the house slaves had to sit with the family while the field slaves occupied the balcony on the second floor. Amelia didn’t understand why the separation was so important, but she knew enough to be careful which of Papa’s rules she broke.
    The hot, dry wind chased Amelia into the quarters.
    Sadie came running toward her before she even had time to dismount. “Hi, Miss Amelia.” Sadie’s slender legs showed beneath the hem of her shift as she skidded to a stop.
    â€œI declare, Sadie, if you don’t stop growing, that shift is going to be too short for you before winter returns.”
    The little girl glanced at her bare toes. “Yes, ma’am. But I can’t he’p it. Ev’y night I ask Jesus to keep me short, but ev’y day when I gets up, my legs