«He would never risk old Athos», Zeb said.
They called him this way, the ox. Moses had his doubts. That field had become an obsession for Master Hennessy, he would never give it up.
It pretended to believe it, even to comfort Zeb, and he began to pray. He prayed all the way as they dragged that root on the ground. They tried to smooth it, to remove every stone, so that it would not hit that strange thing. They were slow, but Master Hennessy didn’t complain.
When they reached the boundary of the field they rolled that root together with the others and breathed a sigh of relief.
«Finally!», said Master Hennessy, recovering his vigor. «Useless! Always to waste time!».
And he continued to shout as long as the sun didn’t start coming down and it was time to go home.
Moses and Pheby lived in a hut, next to their masters’ house. Zeb lived with them, his bed was in a corner, separated only by a hanging sheet. There was not much intimacy, they slept all together, and in the same room they cooked and ate.
Pheby was waiting for him in front of the door, and this was a new reason to be concern for Moses. At that time she should have been in the mansion to serve dinner. Normally she wasn’t allowed to go back home before very late at night.
«Talk to him», she said. «Help him out». As her husband didn’t understand, she shook her head wearily. «He messed it up again and this time he has been whipped».
Moses felt his heart in his throat. «Who did it?».
«Who do you think it was?», Pheby replied, annoyed. «Mrs. Hennessy, that witch!».
She clutched an arm to her husband and said nothing else. She walked in the house.
Zeb was exhausted, but he sighed. «I’m going to check on the animals».
He had given him some intimacy, and Moses was grateful. It was not easy for him to accept certain things. Though Spencer was his son, Hennessy remained his masters, and they could do anything they wanted.
He walked into the cabin head down, because that task was too heavy for him.
Spencer was on the floor, lying on the bed, and he was crying. Pheby had already taken care of him, in fact he had a wrap on his shoulders, but a few drops of blood had already dirty him. The baby was eight years old, but it was so small and fragile that looked only like he was six.
It didn’t matter what he did, spurned a glass, or dropped a stack to the ground, Spencer was not fit to serve at the Master’s home. He always had his head full of dreams, he didn’t concentrate. Every week he was punished at least once. Soon, very soon, he would find himself working in the fields.
What could Moses say? What advice could he give his son? How could he have reassured him?
He just sat at the table and started crying too.
«What’s that?».
Moses silenced her immediately, pointing to the sheet behind which Zeb was asleep from a couple of hours.
Pheby was exhausted. Without Spencer helping her, her work had been even heavier and she had to stay more than usual. At dawn she would have be back in the house to prepare breakfast.
«What’s that?», she asked again lower. «Where did you get it? Did you steal it?».
Moses shrugged. In fact, he didn’t even know it. «We found it in the field. The master made me throw it away».
This didn’t change the situation at all. Pheby turned around the table, looking at the strange object Moses had laid on it. «What purpose does it serve?».
«I think it’s a bullet, or it’s part of a weapon. Something like that».
She almost screamed. «And you brought it here? Throw it away. Don’t touch it. It could harm you». She didn’t even know how to behave. «Why did you do that?».
Moses didn’t know, he had no justification. As soon as Spencer had fallen asleep, he was back in the field. It took almost an hour to free the object from the roots that imprisoned it. He had found it unusually light, given the size. It hadn’t been a problem to bring it home.
Maybe it was worth something, but for whom? They were slaves, they wouldn’t even be able to sell it, he was just looking for trouble. Perhaps he had only taken it because he wanted to find out what it was.
«What does it mean? Tell me something!».
Moses begged her to silence, but it was too late. It was Spencer to wake up, fortunately, and not Zeb.
«What is it, Daddy?».
Moses was happy to see that he had stopped crying. Curiosity once again had been stronger than pain. When he got up, Pheby tried to stop him.
«I’m ok, I’m fine».
But it was not true, because he reached the table staggering. Seeing his condition, Moses was ashamed and lowered his head.
Spencer looked at that thing, which was bigger than him. He turned around the table, astonished.
«Don’t touch it, it’s dangerous!», Pheby said. «It’s a weapon. Dad was crazy enough to bring it here».
Spencer climbed into a chair, pointing out something, almost touching it. «There’s something written here».
There were marks, yes, Moses had also noticed it, but he had never learned to read or write.
Pheby tightened her lips, trying to hold back, but without succeeding. «Can you read it, Spencer?».
Even Moses flinched. It was wrong, terribly wrong, if the masters found out they wouldn’t punish him with some whipped only. But it was not Spencer’s fault, Miss Lily was the cause of everything.
Miss Lily was the daughter of Hennessy, she was sixteen and was a rebel. She wasn’t happy about living in the farm, she wanted to go to school, even though she was a female. She always argued with her parents, and ultimately she was the cause of most of the punishments that had been inflicted on Spencer.
She filled his mind with absurd ideas, told him that there were no slaves in the North, that slavery was wrong, she even taught him to read, secretly. She was an irresponsible girl, although she had always been kind to them, one day she would have caused Spencer’s ruin, Moses was sure.
«I don’t know this word», Spencer said. «I never learned it. I have to ask Miss Lily».
«What’s written?», Pheby asked.
«TIME C-A-P-S-U-L-E. I don’t know what the capsule word is, though. There are also numbers. 15122050».
«It must be the trademark of the builder», Moses said, because he found something similar to other objects too.
Strange name, time capsule. Who knows what does it mean. Moses dismissed the matter and took Spencer, trying not to hurt him. «In bed now. It’s late. Tomorrow we will decide what to do».
The strange thing, similar to a bullet and called time capsule, remained there, lonely on the table, in the dark.
Moses almost yelled. Pheby had put her nails in his arm. Her eyes were wide open, but the sun had not yet arisen. His wife seemed paralyzed, looking at the table.
The capsule was still there, but Spencer was there also. He was touching it, moving it.
Moses tried to keep his voice low, not to frighten him. «Get away from there. Don’t touch it. Slowly».
Spencer didn’t look like he understood. He kept tightening that object and shaking it.
Moses stood up carefully, approaching it fearfully. «Spencer, I told you not to touch it, it can be dangerous».
There was a whistling noise and Pheby groaned. Spencer instead looked at them smiling. «I’ve done it! I opened it!».
There were things inside. Items.
It didn’t look like a weapon, not at all.
The lid ha been removed completely and now it lay aside. It didn’t look like a bullet now, more like a giant pot.
Spencer was thrilled, and Moses interrogated Pheby. «Shall we get them out?».
Those objects looked innocuous at first sight.
She didn’t answer, she didn’t feel like taking that responsibility.
Moses did it, and started pulling them out of the pot. There were three books, even he knew what they were. They were a bit different from what he had seen so far and the cov
er was all drawn. He set them aside.
There was a square with bright lights moving. They looked like numbers. They all looked at that thing, with mouth open.
There were letters, a bunch of them. He didn’t know how many because he couldn’t count.
There were medals, at least what they thought to be medals, like the ones they gave to the soldiers. And then cups, yes, they had seen cups already. Many cups, but these were much more beautiful.
Then there were those that looked like newspapers, but they were full of designs so realistic that they looked like real people. That scared him.
He hid them under the books, because Pheby wouldn’t notice them.
Books, all written. And finally a strange, square, very big book.
Spencer took it. He opened it before they could stop him.
The sun was rising, and it firstly came from the window. Very soon Pheby would have to go to work.
There were some prints on the first-page, all different, made with strange inks, in many colors. When Spencer turned the page, they were shocked, even Pheby.
It was a great design that filled the whole page. It was the most realistic drawing they had ever seen. There were so many people in there, really a lot. Not people actually, almost all of them were children. There were very few adults.
But it wasn’t that to upset them, though. Some of those kids were like them. The ones with dark skin stood beside the other with white skin. They were bigger than Spencer, but not like Miss Lily, and the black kids held the white children’s hands as if there was nothing strange about it. In the center of the photo there was one in particular, a black kid with glasses, who couldn’t be more than thirteen or fourteen years old. It looked like the one they were celebrating, he held two of the cups they had found inside the capsule and smiled. The white children around him were clapping their hands.
Moses felt almost sick. He closed the book and said: «We shouldn’t have this! Let’s burn it. Now!».
They had seen it. Spencer had seen it. He had seen a different world, the world that Miss Lily wondered about. Was this the North? Was this what happened up the North? No, he couldn’t believe it, there was no such a place anywhere in the world where white and black could be together. Not that way. It was just a drawing, a drawing so perfect to look real, yet it was not. It was a dream, a dream of something that didn’t exist.
«No, Daddy, I beg you. Don’t do it».
Pheby had gone to work. Soon Moses had to go too. Any moment Zeb would wake up. Spencer was feeling too bad and he would stay home that day. The master had given him the permission.
Moses had to decide, there was no time left. He had promised Pheby that he would throw everything away, and those objects terrorized him, and yet the desperate look of his son kept him from doing so.
If the masters had found them with such a drawing, he whipped them to death. Why take such a risk?
«Please!».
Zeb was waking up, Moses heard the noise over the curtain. He grabbed the capsule and took it to the corner of the room. He put other objects in front of it as to hide it.
«Don’t touch it!», he told his son. «If you don’t want me to throw it away, don’t touch it anymore!».
Spencer’s eyes shone. «I swear to you, Dad».
Eight roots later, at the end of a heavy day in the field, Moses and Zeb returned to the shed, exhausted.
Pheby had brought something to eat at noon, because the work couldn’t be interrupted, and she had already warned him that she couldn’t come back until late, because without Spencer the job for her was double.
He hoped Spencer didn’t get in trouble after being all day alone.
He froze as soon as he stepped his foot into the hut, but he wasn’t ready enough to stop Zeb, who went in, and dropped his mouth open.
Spencer and Miss Lily were seated at the table, and wide open in front of them there were the books and notebooks they had found in the capsule. The same capsule was laid on the floor, empty.
Moses didn’t dare to open his mouth. Spencer gave him a desperate look. «I had to do it for good! I wasn’t able to read that!».
Miss Lily ignored them, she didn’t even notice their presence, kept reading.
She wasn’t a beauty, and she probably would never have been. She didn’t care about getting married and be a good wife, she had many other aspirations. She only dreamed of going away from that house, from that city, from that world.
They stayed still for a long time, Moses and Zeb, without daring to come forward. It was the first time Miss Lily came home and didn’t know what to do.
«Your parents will be looking for you, Miss», Moses dare to say.
Miss Lily just looked up from the book. «I said I didn’t feel well and I went to bed soon».
Then nothing more, she read again.
Spencer shrugged, as if to indicate that he didn’t know much more. Then Moses stepped forward, still standing.
«What are them?», he asked.
Miss Lily looked at him. «It’s crazy!», she began. She pointed at the books around her. «This is a school».
Something he had guessed, looking at that drawing, but Moses wasn’t sure he understood it. «What school? Where is this school?».
She didn’t answer. Instead, she pointed to the famous square book, which was open on the page of the accused drawing and her finger stopped on the black boy in the center. «It’s his!».
«What?».
«This container. The Time Capsule. It’s his. He did it. Here’s all his life. I think it was a great honor. They let him do it because he was the best student. A genius, they say».
Moses dropped his jaw. «He’s a nigger».
Miss Lily snorted. «I can see he’s a nigger! In that place it must not have been so important».
Moses was afraid to ask. «What place?».
She shook her head. «They say they are from the past, but it’s impossible. There has never been anything like that. Never».
Moses was so confused and exhausted that he dared to sit without asking permission. Miss Lily didn’t even notice it.
«Do you understand what’s written, Miss?».
«Very little», she admitted. «The language is similar to ours, yet very different. There are many words I don’t understand».
He pointed to the scattered papers. «What do they say?».
«They talk to the people of the future. They tell how they were, what they did. The children wrote them all, all of them». He pointed to the notebooks, then the letters. «They have written to their grandchildren and great-grandchildren, to those who will read it one day. To their family in the future. Only that is impossible, this past has never happen».
«So it is… a joke?».
She snorted. «A joke? Look here!». She placed the strange square in front of his eyes with the bright numbers. «This is a clock! And it still works! They write that it will work for a thousand years, without any charge!».
Moses was left with his mouth open. That object didn’t look like a clock at all.
«What about that… that nigger?».
«I told you, he was the best in the school. It was called Alan Freeman. They gave him the task of preparing the time capsule, and when he finished they buried it».
«Why?».
«Because someone would find it in the future and see how they lived then. Who they were, what they had done».
He showed him medals and cups. «These were all his, he was a genius in the school. A genius of… quantum physics, I have no idea what’s that!».
«I never knew that some things were buried».
«Indeed! It never happened! Who would ever get such an absurd idea?». She returned to indicate the drawing. «And this is impossible. It doesn’t exist, it can’t exist. It never existed».
«So what does that mean?».
She pointed to the capsule. «There’s a date there, December 15, 2050».
Moses didn’t understand even then. «What does it
mean?».
«It means that this capsule will be buried in three hundred years».
Moses was shocked, because that concept overshadowed his reality.
Miss Lily bit a lip. «The opening of the capsule was planned in 2250, exactly two centuries later. You can guess it by the letters».
«But when are we talking about? When did it happen?».
«I don’t know!», she blinked.
She stood up and started to walk around the room. «Maybe once the world has been like this. A long time ago. Perhaps the capsule has never been opened, and it just stayed there. Maybe a thousand years, or two thousand. Perhaps it comes from Atlantis, who knows, someone says it existed. Maybe…». She stopped and shook her head. «How silly am I! It comes from the future and that’s it!».
For Moses it was madness. «The future?».
«Where else can whites and niggers live together? Do you see a place in this world where this is possible?».
«The North», Moses murmured, regretting it immediately.
Miss Lily grimaced. «There are no slaves in the north, there are no chains, but do you really think the situation is very different?». She pointed to the drawing again. «That doesn’t belong to our time, it’s impossible».
Miss Lily caressed the cups and medals, just touched the strange clock, then spoke in a loud voice without turning. «Destroy everything, burn the books, bury the capsule. My father will never have to know what you found».
She didn’t want to meet Spencer’s eyes wide open and she ran away.
«Dad, no!». Spencer was weeping as Moses burned the books. Then the notebooks. They were too far from home for someone to see them. Spencer wanted to come with him.
«There is», murmured the child. «There is a place where we are free. Where I can go to school»
Moses was getting worse. «It doesn’t exist».
«I’ve seen it, I will never forget it».
It would have been his end, Moses was certain. That damn design would mark his son’s life.
He opened the square book and pulled out the design, crumpled it, and threw it into the fire. But there were others, and they all depicted that boy, Alan Freeman, while white men and women handed the prizes to him, while other white boys clapped their hands. Moses was weeping, he could no longer resist.
Lizzi Bizzi and the Red Witch Page 42
