Caged Bird Screaming

Man of the sun

Monday came along quickly and began with the ring of the bell. Hawk woman woke Axe and told him where to go to get a basket to put the cotton he picked. Hawk woman worked in the kitchens and had to leave at the sound of the fourth bell.

Axe followed the men to a large shed where he took a small basket. The cotton he picked would later go into the cotton gin where the seeds would be removed and the cotton processed.

Work started when the third bell rang. Everyone began working quickly picking cotton from the plant. Axe watched the men around him hastily remove the cotton balls from the plants and move on to another one. Axe found it hard to do. The spikes on the branches penetrated his fingers drawing up little spots of blood. It wasn’t long before he felt like throwing the basket to the ground and walking away. No wonder he easily got a place in Henry’s father’s household. He wasn’t good at picking cotton. Tom had saved him from countless lashes of the whip by moving him into the house.

“I see harvesting cotton is one of your weaknesses.” Axe looked up and smiled when he saw the man he had inquired about Maze’s whereabouts some days before standing beside him.

“Yes. I don’t like picking it. The spikes dig into my fingers. It’s painful.” Axe replied and sucked his bleeding thumb.

“Well don’t let anyone else see you.” The man motioned for Axe to look at the overseers. “They think they run the plantation because the master’s old. They can be brutal at times. Just keep your head down and stay out of trouble. Here.”  The man dug into his basket and placed all his cotton in Axe’s basket.

Axe gasped in surprise at what he had done. “Thank you but you should take it back. What if the men see you? They’ll whip you.”

The man laughed. “I can pick cotton real quick. I’m saving your backside here. If they find out you’ve barely picked a thing, you’ll get twenty lashes on your back. Any way it doesn’t matter if I get lashed. I am an old man and it’s my job to keep watch over you.” The man grinned and patted Axe’s back affectionately. “Now get back to work.”

Axe nodded and moved to another plant to continue the tedious task of picking the cotton. He noticed the man remained close to him. His hands moved quickly and stealthy across the plant as he picked the cotton. Axe wondered how he was able to do such a wearisome task quickly and efficiently. The man’s basket was full in less than five minutes. Axe had not even put more than three cotton balls in his basket.

“You better learn to pick up your pace if you don’t want to get whipped boy.” The old man warned.

“I shall try.” Axe whispered with a smile.

“Not try, boy. You have to do it. Come on let’s go empty our baskets.” Both of them emptied their baskets into a big cart, drawn up by a horse.

“May I ask what your name is?” Axe asked as he emptied his basket.

“I have had many names in my lifetime.” The man replied as they both made their way to pick more cotton. “I have been called Peter, James, John, Abraham, Christopher....”

“What was your first name?” Axe asked, not sure if he could remember all the names the man had mentioned. He doubted the man would remember his very first name.

“Chapel. My first name was Chapel.” The man said dreamily looking at the sky as if he was thinking of a happy moment in his life. He turned to Axe “Are you wondering how I remembered the name?” Axe nodded, dumfounded he remembered his very first name. “I wrote it here,” The man touched his chest. “on my heart.” Chapel sighed. “My mama used to call me Chapel. And then they took me away and gave me another name, and another and another. Chapel was my first and has always been my name. People gave me different names but I didn’t let it change me. It was just a facade. But Chapel was what my mama named me...so it is my real name.” Chapel smiled sadly and kept walking. “So what’s yours?”