I walk as calm as possible down the street knowing everyone is glowering at me. I don’t belong here. I understand that. So I just continue to walk toward the Madison household with their groceries. I arrive and sigh in alleviation. But my relief is short lived, because Mrs. Madison glaring at me through the doorway.
“Get inside here and put up those groceries before I tell Mr. Madison that you were out here slacking on the porch.” She directed.
I get up from leaning against the railing and rush to the refrigerator. Mr and Mrs Madison sure are blessed. One day I wonder to myself I might be able to own a refrigerator myself. Then I thought about what Mr. Madison said a while back, “You’re lucky to be a free boy. You should be grateful for that. You will never live like us, and you should only hope we don’t send you down to Georgia with your kind.” So I focus back on stacking the fruits in a neat pile.
Mr. Madison walks in and greets me. He’s been a good man since I could remember. Occasionally he would get angry, but I feel I was out of line and deserved it. I have learned what I can and can’t do around Mr. and Mrs. Madison. Mr. Madison doesn’t think I should get a lunch break unless he’s in a good mood, so I have to run by my small house in the backyard for a quick bite. I take it into town while getting groceries, most days. Mrs. Madison sometimes lets me have a short lunch break if Mr. Madison doesn’t go to the house for lunch.
I stand up after putting the apples and peaches up and see that Mr. Madison is putting his coat back on after just getting here. He calls up the stairs to Mrs. Madison, “I’m off to the bar!”
Mrs. Madison calls back a ‘be safe!’ and a ‘have fun’ in a sing-songy voice but has downcast look in her eyes. “Anything else you need before I go for the night, Misses?” I ask, looking at the clock on the wall.
“I usually don’t ask you of these kinds of things, but I think you should stay until Mr. Madison gets back.” I nod my head and ask where she wants me during. “You can just sit at the table on the chair in the front room.” She replies.
I sit at the kitchen table. I think she doesn’t want me too far.
As my eyes get more tired, staring out the window at the sky getting darker and darker. When the clock signalled midnight, I hear the door open and the shuffling of feet. I stand to say goodbye to them when Mrs. Madison walks down the stairs slowly. Her eyes are uncharacteristically wide and I can see that she seems to be on edge. I look over and Mr. Madison and he’s obviously inebriated. I know how it is when he has too much to drink and back up calmly. Maybe this is why Misses needed me here. She knew what would happen. He stumbles over to me and gets closer than I am comfortable with.
“So you think you are so great just because how you live and how easy you have it. Don’t you dare think you could ever live like us.” He proceeds to trip his way over to Mrs. Madison, “Look at us, and then look at you.” Then he looks over at her and sees that she’s scared.
“What’s wrong? He’s not gonna hurt you, dear.” He continues to say things too true about me to write, but he ended up picking up a knife and pointing it at me. He has every right to be mad. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t belong. My eyes water. Is this my end? I stare into his eyes and see the pure rage.
I begin apologizing and asking to please go. He just stares at me. Then begins to smirk, “Now leave.” And I run out the front door.
I know I deserved what he said, but now Mrs. Madison is in trouble and Mr. Madison told me on my first day at the house, “No matter what, protect this woman.” And pointed at her.
I run over to the police station. When I enter, I get the usual greeting of name calling as I do in every other establishment. “Please, she’s in trouble. Please follow me to their house. Mrs. Madison.” Only when they heard her name did they begin to stir in their seats.
“Where is she? What did you do?” Their faces holding resentment for me but they follow me to their house.
Then it’s all a blur. So much yelling, so much screaming, and then, nothing. Mr. Madison is taken off to the sheriff’s department and they take me too, just in case. They escort Mrs. Madison so she can answer their questions. I sit in a cell with Mr. Madison and he takes something shiny out of his pocket. In a flash, I’m bleeding and my vision goes. As I slip out of consciousness, I hear him say, “It’s what you deserve.”
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