by Londyn Skye
Levi’s attention was stolen again when he glanced out of the window and saw Emily screaming at Dallas. When the eight-year-old was not moving fast enough for her taste, she snatched him by the arm and dragged him back to the wagon. She was being unnecessarily nasty to him, like she so often was with all her boys. Emily’s unwarranted outbursts were one of the things that made Levi hate her with an extreme passion, so too did the fact that this was not the first time that he had to contemplate selling a child because of her foolish actions …
Early in their marriage, Levi arrived home one day to find a foreclosure notice inside his mailbox. It was not the first. It was the third and final. Emily had gone about hiding the other foreclosure notices, along with all the other bills she had failed to pay for months. She would have hidden that final foreclosure notice too, had she gotten to it first. Levi trusted his wife with handling their finances. He, therefore, assumed the notice was a mistake, or that there was a logical explanation. But that was far from the case.
After Levi confronted Emily about the foreclosure notice, she had no choice but to come clean about the true depths of their financial disaster. The revelation led Levi to learn that his wife’s addiction to alcohol not only made her mean and cold, but reckless and stupid as well. Instead of paying their debts, Emily’s drunken trips into town were spent squandering their meager income on frivolous shopping sprees, and even sometimes gambled away on horse races. After their confrontation, Emily finally led Levi to the stockpiles of liquor, clothes, jewelry, shoes, and gambling receipts she had hoarded away in their attic.
An internal rage kept Levi from speaking to his wife for days. Knowing she was the sole cause for nearly losing everything, he feared the sort of venomous words he may spew at her. Fueled by his fury, he tore angrily through the attic instead. He threw everything that Emily had accumulated into his wagon and spent the weekend reselling every bit of it to various thrift stores. He even pedaled off the liquor for cheap to any wino he could find drifting through town. But the money he reclaimed for the items barely put a dent in the amount he owed on his mortgage. For two weeks thereafter, he worked around the clock in the fields, and sold every pound of cotton and tobacco he could haul. Still, he was short on his mortgage. He then resorted to doing odd jobs for people in town. Still, he was just days away from having no place for his three little boys and his then pregnant wife to live. Levi Collins was beyond desperate.
With three days remaining until the bank seized his property, Levi got out of his bed after tossing and turning for hours. He went downstairs and sat alone at his kitchen table, with only the moon shining through the window as his light. The light beamed directly onto the glass of whiskey he was nursing. It was the first time his tongue was numbed by liquor since the night he had impregnated Emily at the church retreat. The life-altering decision that alcohol had led to that night had cemented his distaste for numbing elixirs that impaired his rationale. But on this night, the horrible thing he was contemplating doing made him want to impair his mind. He wanted to feel nothing, to deaden all his pain, especially the excruciating pain in his heart.
After hours of drinking, Levi was indeed numb. He could barely feel his feet beneath him as he stumbled drunkenly across the fields that morning, headed toward Nora’s eleven-year-old son, Timothy. With whiskey fueling his courage and tears brewing in his eyes, he wrestled Timothy away from Nora and sold him at an auction. When Timothy did not earn enough to cover the rest of what he owed to the bank, Levi took another slave’s little boy to auction the following day. On the final day that his home was due to be repossessed, he then sold Nora’s younger son, Daniel. When the auction ended, Levi walked into the bank with a heavy heart. He then handed the bank teller a stack of bills that he felt was not even close to the true value of the three little boys he had just snatched away from their parents. However, in the bank’s eyes, that money held enough value to cease the repossession of his farm.
Levi had wanted to sell the parents and children together, but the adult labor was vital to keeping his farm afloat and his children fed. The irony of destroying families to take care of his own nearly gave Levi an ulcer. For weeks after selling those children, he could barely bring himself to eat or sleep. He was easily irritated and hard to be around as he fought to emotionally heal from his acts of cruelty.
Maya had only been working at the farm for a year at that point, but she easily sensed the shift in Levi’s demeanor. The kind-hearted, calm Levi she had come to know seemed to have disappeared overnight. And Maya was confident that selling those children had triggered the drastic change in his mood. It left her believing that it was never something he actually wanted to do. Still though, like all the slaves on the plantation, Maya was angry with Levi for his decision. At the same time, however, she was unable to shake a deep feeling of empathy for him. Her empathy led her to approach Levi after she saw him kick a pail of cow’s milk clear across the barn for seemingly no reason at all. But Maya was certain she knew where his agitation had stemmed from. After seeing Levi sit down on a stool and bury his face in his hands afterward, Maya bravely walked up behind him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Levi jumped and stood up. “What do you want?!” he yelled, thinking that his wife had just touched him. He turned around and immediately felt guilty for his actions when he saw Maya standing there with her head lowered, her body quivering, looking deathly afraid.
“I-I just come to say that I-I’ll finish up the c-cows and cleanin’ the stalls … i-if m-maybe you’d like to go on and t-take your boys f-fishin’ for the afta’noon instead.” Maya kept her eyes aimed at the ground. She knew that her offer had the chance of being met with a punishment, but she hoped that Levi would show mercy for her empathy.
A punishment was far from Levi’s mind. All he could think about at that moment was how he wished that Maya had not removed her hand. He had secretly wanted that touch for months. He now needed that touch. He needed to feel the hand of someone who was empathetic to his plight. He was floored by the fact that, of all people, that empathy had come from someone who owed him nothing but vehement anger. With tears suddenly stinging his eyes, Levi gazed at Maya and fell even more in love with her than he already secretly was. “Afta’ what I did, I don’t think I deserve such an honor with my boys,” he whispered, his head weighed down by shame.
With her head meekly lowered too, Maya never saw the way Levi’s lips quivered as he spoke, but she indeed saw his tears as they pelted his shirt before he solemnly walked away.
… The three sons that Levi could not bring himself to take fishing that afternoon had appeared as flashes in his mind when he auctioned off the three young boys from his farm. As the bids came in, he had envisioned his sons standing on the auction block instead. The imagery made his stomach do violent flips. He had felt a blend of guilt and gratefulness that the fortune of his race prevented him from ever having to experience such a devastating loss against his will. At the time, he had thanked God for the fact that he would only ever have to imagine a scenario so painful. But now, all these years later, Levi Collins was having to face the possibility of knowing full well what it was like to have his very own child staring down at him from an auction block. With minutes suddenly seeming to pass like seconds, Levi glanced at his pocket watch. The following day, his wife had demanded that he live out that scenario in living color … at precisely 12:32 p.m.
With only twenty-four hours to make a decision, Levi stepped out of Maya’s cottage, suddenly feeling keenly aware of time. He swore the watch in his pocket was ticking as loudly as a grandfather clock. He swore every movement of the pocket watch’s hands were thumping against his leg like a sledgehammer, painfully counting down the most agonizing hours of his life.
Levi stood in a trance outside of Maya’s cottage, thinking about how brief moments in time, and split-second decisions, could prove to have lifelong consequences, either for the better … or for the worst. As he watched Emily riding off in the wagon
to take their son to the dentist, he was reminded of the latter part of that fact. He then glanced back over at Maya. It took a millisecond for him to fall in love with her. It took seven seconds of euphoric pleasure inside her body to conceive a child with her. Though fleeting as those moments were, they had changed Levi’s life forever … for the better. And now, an affectionate exchange in a chicken coop, lasting less than a minute, had led to a twenty-four-hour ultimatum that had the power to dramatically change a little girl’s life, for the rest of the days she spent on Earth. Yes. Time, and life-altering decisions, were all that Levi Collins could think about on January thirteenth of 1845.
12:34 p.m.: Levi had watched Emily leave the farm to take Dallas to the dentist.
12:40 p.m.: Levi was angrily sifting through Emily’s liquor cabinet for the strongest thing he could find. The smell of alcohol only ever reminded him of the night that led him to be shackled for a lifetime to a woman he now detested. The last time he had any liquor was the day he sold the three boys on his farm. But at 12:42 p.m., after several years without a drop of alcohol in his system, Levi proceeded to drink … heavily.
12:45 p.m.: Levi wearily wandered upstairs with a full whiskey bottle in hand, went into his bedroom, and locked the door. He sat down next to the window and watched his only daughter in the distance, as he began contemplating what to do to remedy his situation, in a way that would satisfy all parties.
1:00 p.m.: Levi was still sitting at the window, guzzling whiskey, contemplating, and watching his daughter. He was recalling the many times he had peered in the window of Maya’s cottage, and saw Lily and her mother playing the song in the music box, and dancing … together.
1:27 p.m.: Levi momentarily stopped contemplating, watching Lily, and reflecting while he refilled his glass with more whiskey, for the third time.
1:28 p.m.: Levi resumed guzzling whiskey, contemplating, watching Lily, and reflecting on the times he had seen her and Maya sneaking away at night with their telescope to name the stars … together.
2:16 p.m.: While still sipping, contemplating, and watching Lily, Levi recalled how every Christmas “Santa Claus” would quietly sneak into Lily’s room and deliver a gift for her. When she was four, “Santa Claus” had handmade her a ragdoll with Lily’s light brown skin tone, with hair and eye color that resembled hers as well. Years later, Levi still saw Lily holding onto that ragdoll as she slept cuddled up in her mother’s arms, both looking comfortable and happy … together.
2:17 p.m.: Watching Lily, contemplating, and guzzling whiskey suddenly ceased. Levi quickly sat his liquor glass down, and violently threw up in a trash can the very instant he thought about the woman he loved and his beloved daughter no longer being … together.
2:20 p.m.: Levi laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling, his skin too numb to feel the stream of tears rolling down the sides of his face. The room was spinning … along with the wheels in his head.
3:05 p.m.: Levi was still contemplating what to do, still thinking about his beloved daughter … still too numb to feel a damn thing as the room spun violently around him.
3:33 p.m.: Levi was shaken from his trance when he heard his sons storm into the house after school. He then fell into an alcohol-induced slumber. He slept hard and was awakened for dinner at 6 p.m.
6:11p.m.: With a head-splitting migraine, Levi sat at the dinner table with his head hanging low. He was usually engaging his sons in conversation. But on this evening, the sound of silverware clinking against plates dominated the noise in the room. Levi only stared at his meal, too nauseated to eat, having yet to say a single word, clearly looking dejected.
“Pa, wh-what’s wrong?” fifteen-year-old Colt was finally brave enough to ask, after the uncomfortable silence became too much for him to tolerate.
Levi did not even attempt to open his mouth, for fear he would spew vomit instead of words.
“Oh, I’m quite sure around noon tomorrow, your fatha’ will be rid of what’s weighin’ heavily on his mind,” Emily interjected, her eyes focused on the steak she was cutting.
Emily’s words finally triggered Levi to move. He lifted his throbbing head and glared at his wife through bloodshot eyes, fighting the sudden urge to jump up and choke her in front of their children.
Emily returned the glare and bit into her steak, chewing with a smirk on her face. “You boys go on and finish up your homework, get your chores done, and then get cleaned up for bed. Leave your good God-fearin’ daddy in peace. He’s got a big decision to make t’night.”
6:31 p.m.: Levi’s contemplating suddenly ceased. As he stared at the sickening sight of his wife, he had indeed made a decision that would resolve his problem … permanently.
11:30 p.m.: Levi sat up in bed and looked over at his wife, who was lulled into a deep sleep by alcohol as usual. Anger heated his entire body when he saw the slow rise and fall of her chest. He then silently cursed the grim reaper for having yet to answer his prayer to cease her heartbeat.
11:33 p.m.: Levi left his bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe of his three eldest sons’ room and watched sixteen-year-old Wyatt sleep. Although he had accidentally conceived him with a woman that he now hated, Levi could not imagine his life without him. Levi then turned and gazed over at fifteen-year-old Colt, and thirteen-year-old Dylan, sleeping peacefully in bunk beds. He could not see himself without those two young men either.
11:38 p.m.: Levi quietly cracked the door to his youngest three sons’ bedroom. He gazed upon the resting bodies of twelve-year-old Lucas, eleven-year-old Bo, and eight-year-old Dallas. The thought of life without them was crippling as well.
11:42 p.m.: Levi wandered outside and peered in the window of the child that he was supposed to subtract from his life in order to solve his difficult life equation. Even at nine-years-old, that little person still found comfort sleeping nestled in her mother’s arms, while holding on to the ragdoll created in her image. Levi was curious about the contents of Lily’s dreams at that moment. He wondered if he had ever played even a small role in her dreams, the way she had countless times in his. Even though he had limited interaction with Lily, the thought of subtracting her from his life, and worse yet, from her mother’s, nearly brought Levi to his knees at that very moment. The thought of such a thing had helped solidify what Levi felt was the one true answer to all his current problems.
Levi was a logical thinking man. It was what always drove his decisions as head of the household. Logic and numbers. Currently, Levi had the option of tearing apart the lives of six little boys, or the life of one little girl. Six and one. Two numbers. One number greater than the other. Damage one or damage six. All seven of those little lives were on his mind when he stepped back into his house at 12:05 a.m.
12:10 a.m.: With lightning and thunder suddenly rumbling in the distance, Levi stood over his wife as she lay on her back, passed out. The haggard sight of her turned his stomach and intensified his current urges. Quickly, the storm seemed to roll toward Levi’s house, thunder clapping noticeably louder. Another strike of lightning illuminated the room, revealing the empty liquor glass on Emily’s nightstand. As lightning lit up the room again, Levi cursed under his breath when he saw his wife’s chest still rising and falling. Lightning suddenly struck again, rocking the house. This time, Levi caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he lowered a pillow onto his wife’s face. He was ready to finish the job that the crushed sleeping powder he had laced her alcohol with had failed to do. With such heavy sedatives coursing through her veins, Emily did not even flinch as Levi began to smother her.
“Pa?” Levi suddenly heard. He slightly lifted the pillow from Emily’s face as his bedroom door squeaked open. With the pillow still near her face, Levi looked up to find Dallas standing in the doorway, rubbing his pasty eyes. “Pa, can I sleep with you and mama? The storm is scarin’ me,” he said, sounding and looking like he was sleepwalking.
With his mouth agape, Levi only stared at Dallas as he proceeded to wearily crawl into bed and cu
ddle up next to his mother. The sleeping powder had put Emily into such a deep sleep that she did not budge as Dallas laid on her chest and quickly drifted back to sleep himself. Lightning lit up the room again. This time, it illuminated the tears that suddenly trickled down Levi’s cheeks as he gazed at his wife and son. When Dallas snuggled up next to his mother, it was the first time in years that Levi had ever bothered to view Emily as human, one who was somehow loved by the little boy on her chest … a beloved human whose life he was about to ruthlessly take.
