SILVER

GENRE: Western

RATING: R

SUMMARY: A runaway slave finds that she must defend her new life in the west.

~PROLOGUE~

“Unnnnggghhh!!” Opal bore down, hard.  It felt like her whole body was splitting up the middle.  All the world was pressure and burning pain.

Distantly, through the haze, she felt a rough hand squeezing her own.

“Yakón:kwe…Shhh!!”

The round rust-colored woman’s eyes were wide. She quickly peered around the strange dwelling, as if expecting someone to hear.  It was long and narrow with crossbeams, stones, mud, and what appeared to be thatched twigs holding up the walls.

A fire crackled from within a circular pit in the middle and unidentifiable herbs hung, drying from the crossbeams. Aside from the brown woman in labor on the pallet, the Indian woman was alone.

A blizzard roared outside, rocking the structure. Opal had struggled through it earlier that very day. Desperate and cold, she was on her last legs when Anies found her, leaning against a spruce tree where she had buried rations.

She didn’t understand what the woman was saying, but she knew she was trying to keep her quiet. As if someone might walk in from this killing blizzard and discover them.

Opal was a tall, sturdy, woman, her belly barely protruding from her frame. In passing, one might not have even known she were pregnant. Anies, the Kanienkehaka Indian woman who was helping her was her physical opposite. Short, round, and deceptively slight-looking, she got up and tended a sweet-smelling herbal brew over the fire. When another contraction hit, she shot Opal a sharp look.

Opal’s face contorted in heavy pain and she did what her body so badly wanted. She pushed. Air escaped from her lips and water leaked from her eyes expressing the scream she would not, could not let out.

Anies soaked a piece of soft leather in the brew and knelt down in front of her. Suddenly, she felt the release.

“Le’ me see!…”

Opal reached out and Anies placed the tiny wet infant in her arms.

She had yet to cry, but her squinted eyes were watchful.  Anies smiled and whispered in her language.

“She is blessed.”

Opal-May Ford pressed the babe to her breast and wept.

And so it was that Silver ‘Wide Eyes’ Ford was born into freedom in a Shoshone dwelling, just outside of Sweet Water, Wyoming.

~|~

~OPAL~

Everyone in the old west had to be tough, blacks, whites, and redfolk. None were spared the hardships, but women, colored women especially were particularly vulnerable.

They said if you were a darkie, weren’t nothing you were good for but working and breeding until you died from it.

Opal had decided long ago, if she was gonna work ‘til she died, she was going to do it for herself alone.

She was determined that no white man would ever be her master again. None of them would benefit from her sweat and tears, ever. She would die first.

The exact moment that thought had settled inside was a constant echo in her mind.

~|~

Opal Hampton was seventeen years old when her mother died.

She was as secure and happy as one could be in captivity. It was all she ever knew, so she accepted it as well as one can accept that they were born to serve, born to permanent inferiority.

She was a skinny little thing, but she was a good worker. She knew how to slaughter animals, cook, do the wash, plant and harvest a variety of different crops. Hardy and tough.

Gentle sleep was an unknown thing to her, only the deep crash that came from utter and complete exhaustion.

Far from stupid she watched closely and realized her mother held something over their master. She was able to press him to have her educated, so she would have a chance for something more once she was free.

Freedom was another thing she had made him promise for her children. She took to education well; reading, writing, and numbers, better even than her own twin brother, Samuel had.

On the day her mother died, she heard them.

She wasn’t trying to, but the house was especially still and she was told to wait outside the door until master called for her.

So, she did.

And she heard “Our father.”   Our father?

“…You give them their freedom. Our father promised. You were there!..”

From then on she could hear a few words of the harsh exchange only intermittently. It went on for a long while, before Master Hampton finally opened the door, unable to meet her eyes.

“Your momma’s dead.  She wanted to give you this.” He said, shoving the papers into her tiny hands.

She took a deep breath, allowing the weight of what he’d said to settle over her. She had tried to prepare for this, but the reality of it, that she was truly gone, that she didn’t get to say goodbyes, was like a cold hard lump in her chest.

When she could speak, she asked “What is it, master?”

“-You ‘kin read. Go’on.”

She glanced down at the papers.

“I’m free?”

He merely nodded.

“It’s what she wanted. So don’t blame me if you get kilt or worse out there on your own. You’re mother was crazy if you ask me. If she really loved you, she’d let you stay here where folk could take of you…”     He said, shaking his head and walking away.

She was blocking his words out, she’d found a sealed letter as well. She cracked the seal and began to read.

Opal,

You are free, now.

You take your brother and go west. They got so much land out there, they are giving it away.  I even heard that they got negro towns.

That is what I want for you. I want you to have your own land so you can pass it on to your future kin.

That is the biggest wealth a man can have.

You know your brother is gonna have that title, but that is only on paper.

It will be your land, I know. You will work it and love it.

You have always been the strong one.

You keep being strong and go get that life I could never have.

I love you, baby.

She absently wiped at her cheeks, surprised to find her hand come away wet.

The shift made something else drop out of the envelope, a tiny folded up piece of paper, now yellowing.

BUCKTOWN! It announced.

Coloreds welcome and wanted

in BUCKTOWN, WYOMING

ANNUAL SPRING LAND GIVEAWAY
Claim 150 acres of land in race!

One allotment per working man, in exchange for settlement and contribution to the growth of our town.

Just 50 miles away from SWEET WATER, reachable by the A&O’s northern-western track.

The seed was planted, one that would be her lifelong obsession.

~|~

She finished out the day as usual, her mind calculating.  Samuel wasn’t a bad boy, he just wasn’t as serious as she was. Just always making jokes of everything, even when there wasn’t nothing funny. And now, she had to convince him, oh yes she was certain this was gonna take convincing, to leave the Hampton place.

She already knew what she had to do for herself.

~|~

“Maisie, I need you to cut m’hair.”

“What child?! You crazy? All that pretty hair you got on yo’ head?!”

“Maisie! Please, I need to look like a boy.”

“Chile’ you ain’t neva’ gone look like no regular boy. …Maybe a fancy sissie.”

She was right, her features were very feminine; over-full lips, round face, and large doe-like eyes. Smooth hairless maple colored skin.

But she was skinny and flat chested. She was grateful at least for that mercy.

She wouldn’t have to bind her chest.

She sighed and begun to undo her thick braided bunches, “Well… I’ll see what I can do.”

~|~

It had been rough going, but they worst they’d gotten was beat and robbed. They both had to stay at a landowners barn and work for enough money to travel the rest of the way.

It was at this landowner barn, that Opal fixed herself for a turning point in her life.  Opal and her brother weren’t the only people working the land.

The old widower had also hired a red man as well. …Mostly red. He claimed himself Shoshone, but his eyes were green.  Opal hadn’t seen many Indians, but she knew they had eyes like the negroes, almond-shaped and brown.

It had started innocent enough, they worked along-side one another hardly talking but to ask for help or to move out of the way. She was still in the guise of a boy, so she didn’t worry much about him.

One night, he woke her with gentle nudge.

“What you want?” She whispered, her voice rusty with sleep.

“You are no boy.” He said simply.

When she didn’t reply he explained. “…Your shape. ” He said indicating her hips.

“And your neck is smooth.”

“You just came up here to tell me that?” She said.

He answered by kissing her and it felt good. So good, she shoved at him and touched her lips, startled.

“-Where is Sam.”

“Asleep.” he said indicating a pile of hay on the floor beneath the loft.

His hand drifted between her legs.

She moved to take it off but, it started to really feel good,  his fingers moving in way that caused something hot to stir inside. So, when he moved to remove her pants, she didn’t stop him.

~|~

It wasn’t all pleasure, it had hurt a little too, but that seemed to only make him enjoy it all the more.

The next morning the man was gone.  The landowner was pissed, but Opal was smart enough to request the rest of his share if she and her brother could do the work.

So,  they did, tending to the animals and planting the field, working well into can’t see, when it was dangerous.  Stepping on a cottonmouth was not so uncommon a thing.

Only providence kept them.

Come time for harvest,  they both put in the extra work it took to get the fields cleared.  Sweaty and musky, Samuel lay the last of the laden burlap sacks in a neat row in front of the owner’s cabin.

Opal leaned forward, her hand splayed out on her knees and retched.  She clapped her hands over her mouth and ran to the corner of the homer, emptying her stomach of the only meal they’d had that day, the broth left over from the owners’ stew.

The man appeared at the door and cussed.  “You gonna clean that up.”

“The jobs done, I will clean it, but I’ll be want’n my wage.” She said in a low voice.

He stared at her for a long moment and then trudged back into his house, his footfalls loud on the wooden floor.  He came back with one quarter of what he had promised.

“You get the rest, after you clean that mess you dun’ made.”

She pocketed what was given and set to work.  Samuel stared at her back.

“What’s wrong with you?  You don’t be talking like that to no white man. He coulda’ come back with a rifle to kill me an’ you both.”

“Yeah. Well he didn’t.” She scooped up the mess by hand and buried it, using the dry soil to also rid the side of the home and her hands of it.

“All’s I’m saying is that you gotta stop taking stupid risks…”  He said and glanced down at her belly.

“Ain’t nothing we dun more risky than existing, -being free negroes, but it’s worth it.”

“…To you.  -And how you gonna feed it when it comes?”

She stopped short with wiping the excess dirt on her heavy pants and stared hard at him. He blinked and looked away.

“The same way I been getting us both fed so far. “

“We find work.”

~|~

Opal kept the money divided within their clothing, pinned to various nooks and crannies, less likely to be searched in the event of a robbery, but she had no choice but to use some of it in town, letting opportunists know that she had some.  They needed mules and food, clothing, shoes (hers were completely worn through the soles) and other supplies for their long journey.

They would need to travel just over a thousand miles.  They hoped to eventually join a wagon-train. Sure, they’d likely be doing most of the work for it, but there was security in numbers, in this hostile country, even with those you mistrust.

The nearest town, Cherry, was mostly composed of whites and a few Chinese.  It was their first time seeing the later.  Samuel said they looked like a drawing of  an Indian he had seen on a wanted poster once, but dressed differently.

They were either paler than the whites or as ruddy and red, as they had imagined a real Indian would be. The town was busy and dusty, full of people chattering and horses clomping around. The sickly sweet smell of manure combined with the aromas of the various peoples and foods to make a uniquely pungent odor, as sharp as vinegar.

Unsure about the rules regarding black skin in this town, they proceeded with caution.  They were twice asked to show their freedom papers, but judging from the quick glances the men who had asked gave, Opal correctly assessed that they couldn’t even read. Opal herself had only shown a copy of the real papers.