In Spite of Color

After work that evening, Marcus sped home to see how his son was doing. He ran through the doorway. To his surprise, his son's eyes were wide open. Marcus fell on his knees beside him . "Thank you Lawd, da fever don broke!" he cried out. "Thank you Lawd!"

"Wa-ter," his son whispered.

"Right away, Son."

Marcus rushed out and drew fresh water from the well. He came back and lifted Marcus Jr.’s head slightly and let him drink from a gourd. When he had finished, he put his hand on Marcus Jr.'s forehead. His forehead felt warm, but not hot.

"I'll make you some hot corn mush and some sassafras tea," Bessie told him.

Marcus Jr. nodded his head in approval because he was very hungry. Marcus hastily started a fire in the fireplace. When the mush was ready, Bessie spoon-fed Marcus Jr. "Dis'll make you feel better and give you strength," she assured her son.

Marcus Jr. tried to move, but pains shot through his back like he was being stabbed. "Ah-h-h-h!" he screamed.

"Don't try to move," Marcus said. "Your back ain't healed yet. Dat'll take weeks. I'll turn your head to rest your neck, but dat's all I kin do now." Marcus turned his son’s head to the other side, and Marcus Jr. gave a big sigh of relief. He fell fast asleep.

One week later Nolan rode out to the field and went directly over to Marcus. His wrist was still wrapped in the poultice, but his temperament was very hostile.

"Where is Marcus Jr.?" he asked.

"He home in bed, Massa Nolan."

"Why didn't he come to work today?"

"He still sick, Massa. He got malaria fever too."

"Don't take that long for a slave's back to heal. He better git up from there and come out to this field. I ain't gonna have slaves lying around doing nothing."

"Yassuh, Massa Nolan."

The overseer galloped away from the field and headed straight for Marcus's cabin.

"Mercy! Mercy!" the slaves screamed and bowed their heads.

When Nolan arrived at the cabin, he tramped through the open door without knocking. Marcus Jr. was still lying on his stomach. Looking at him with scorn and wishing he could give him another lashing, he tried to flex his wrist, but all he got was riveting pain.

"I can still kick!" he said out loud.

Marcus Jr. opened his eyes and looked directly into the overseer's eyes. Horror gripped his face as Nolan raised his foot to kick him.

"Stop or I'll shoot!" he heard someone say. He was sure it was Levi's voice. He stopped his foot in mid-air and turned to see Luther sitting on his horse.

Levi cocked his gun.

"I mean it, Nolan. If you kick that sick boy, I’ll kill you."

Nolan took his foot down. "I didn't know you were home, Mr. Roundtree. I was just trying to keep the slaves in line while you were gone."

"That's not the way to keep them in line. Rev. Young told me how you almost beat that boy to death. That was unmerciful. You’re fired, Nolan! Get off this plantation right now! And don’t you ever let me catch you on my property again! You're the scum of the earth."

Nolan stumbled off with his head hanging, mumbling obscenities under his breath. Levi called out to Marcus Jr., "You all right in there, Boy?"

"Yassuh, Massa. I'm all right now dat you back home."

The next day Levi sent Luther Jr. to the field to get Marcus.

"Pa wants to see you," Levi Jr. said.

"Comin right now," Marcus said. Immediately, he put everything down and walked rapidly toward the mansion. The other slaves stopped and stared.

"Wonder what kinda trouble he in?" one of them asked.

"Lawd knows. Slaves kin git in trouble fur nuthin."

Levi was sitting in his rocking chair waiting for Marcus. As soon as he walked up, Luther got straight to the point without hesitation.

"Marcus," he greeted him.

"Yassuh Massa."

"I want you to be my overseer. You will be over all the field workers and the supplies they need to get the job done."

"I ... I ... I be honored Massa Roundtree," Marcus said and bowed humbly.

"You will start right now, today. You are the only worker on this plantation I can say I truly trust, and you have proved yourself to be loyal to me. You never pretend to be sick. You're the first one up and on the job every morning and the last one to leave every evening. I know you will do what's right by the other workers. Right now I name you overseer of Cypress Villa."

"Thank you, Massa! Thank you, Massa!" Marcus said and bowed again. "I do da very best I kin, Massa, and I never betray you, Massa."

"I believe you Marcus. You're a good man."

In spite of his color, Marcus became the overseer of the most flourishing plantation in the South. That appointment marked the beginning of a friendship between Levi and Marcus that was to last for many decades, and many generations.

After he was named overseer, Marcus got up every morning before the crack of dawn and made sure that everything was in order for the workers. He pulled the sheaves and baskets out of the shed so there would be no delay in getting to work. Marcus beat his drum, and the door to every cabin on Slave Street flew open. The slaves picked up their equipment and marched to the field in a row singing. Wearing straw hats, the men led the procession. The women followed with their heads wrapped with colorful cloth.

Ma Mandy began singing a song and the others joined in: