Free Out From This Place by Joyce Hansen Page A

“We tell him we can runthis place. We been runnin’ it. Yankee don’t know nothing about growin’ cotton. We tell him we work hard and do the job like we know how to do it, as long as he don’t bring no boss man over us.” Everyone was pleased.
    Easter sighed.
I never get a chance to speak,
she said to herself.
    Brother Thomas continued. “We tell Mr. Reynolds that we pick our own overseer from among us. And another thing, we ask him about the land again, and he say that we get the same amount of land we work.”
    There was a lengthy debate over who should be chosen. Finally Rayford was picked. “Now Mr. Ray will be the boss man, holding all the keys to our kingdom here,” Brother Thomas laughed. When that was settled, the woman who’d spoken out the week before said, “It too much to work the fields, mind the babies, an’ do our own cooking. We had a plantation cook where I come from.”
    â€œWell, Mary,” Thomas said, bowing slightly in her direction, “you free now. So you does your own cooking.”
    Easter had her chance now. She stood up shyly. “Excuse me, Brother Thomas, and everybody. I …” She hesitated as every head turned in her direction. “I can be the nurse for the young children and make the lunch for the mothers who want me to.”
    â€œHow can you do all that, daughter?” a woman asked her before Brother Thomas could answer.
    Rose gazed at the sky, and Rayford glared at Easter.
    â€œI could do it, ma’am. I know how to care for baby, and I know how to cook.”
    Virginia said, “It usually the old women who take care of the babies.”
    â€œAnd another thing,” Rayford said, “how’re you going to get paid?”
    Brother Thomas scanned the crowd. “This girl too young for that, but there ain’t no real old woman on this place.”
    â€œBut I can do it,” Easter protested.
    Everyone talked at once. Rose, biting her lips, shook herhead in Easter’s direction. Then Isabel, holding Miriam, stood up. “Excuse me, please.”
    Paul shushed the crowd so that his wife could speak.
    â€œI know this girl, and she know how to handle the babies. When we run, she help me with my Miriam and she keep Miriam quiet when no one else could—not even me. I say let her do it.” Isabel then turned to Easter. “You can take care of Miriam when I in the field, and I pay you twenty-five cents a week.”
    Easter smiled gratefully at Isabel. “Thank you,” she said.
    â€œWell, maybe it ain’t a bad idea, daughter, but what about this cookin’?” Mary asked.
    â€œI cook for the women who have the babies. Make the lunch for them while they work.” Easter thought about how Mariah used to cook for the laborers in the camp.
    Some of the women still looked skeptical. “Well, I don’t know,” one of them mused. “I use to seein’ them old nurses with the babies, not no girl young as you.”
    â€œI know how to care for babies. I care for Jason since he was a baby. You could pay me whatever you want,” Easter blurted out quickly.
    Mary spoke again. “You can mind my Charlotte. I pay you twenty-five cents a week, like Isabel is payin’ you.”
    Another woman stood up. “I’ll let you take my two babies. I have some hens, and I been sellin’ soldiers the eggs. I pay you twenty-five cents a week too. And I give you enough rice for you to fix my lunch when I workin’.”
    â€œI do the same,” Mary called out.
    Easter had to keep herself from grinning foolishly as the women agreed to let her take care of the children. Another woman rocked her baby. “I pay you with greens and yams from my garden and ten cent a week,” she said.
    Easter’s eyes sparkled. She wouldn’t make the two dollars that the others got, but she’d be earning some money, and she’d be out of the fields.