The Suggestion of a Comrade
When happiness is upon us time does not slow down. As Micco’s grandfather Coromantee-Panther had done in days past, Samuel Pinchard would make noises about moving on from Micco’s farm. This frightened Micco, as he was afraid of loneliness. Whenever Samuel threatened to leave, Micco would cringe at the prospect of the dreams of his murdered father returning. He would beg Samuel to stay, and the young white man would sigh and say all right, just a bit longer.
One spring evening in Samuel’s fifth year of living on the farm, Micco confided some fears to Samuel over dinner. On paper, Micco had always passed for white, using the last name of his father, Cornell. Yet as more Americans pushed west, and as the land between the Ogeechee and Oconee rivers—and now, even close to the Okmulgee—was ceded by Creeks who had betrayed the people, Micco was afraid. He had a wife and children and owned slaves like a white man, but Americans didn’t even use the guise of friendship anymore. They had taken to killing Creek people on sight. If his secret was revealed, he was a dead man and his family would be homeless and destitute.
So Samuel kindly offered a suggestion to Micco: the land should be registered in a white man’s name, and Samuel was willing to be that man. Micco was unsure, but his wife made encouraging movements with her fingers, motioning that Micco should listen to his friend. Then she prepared a second helping of supper for the two men. As Samuel ate Mahala’s food and made hearty sounds, Micco offered a suggestion to his friend. He would sign a piece of paper giving the farm to his friend, if Samuel would agree to marry his daughter in two years. She would be only ten years old, but that was the age of consent for white people to marry in Georgia. However, Micco stipulated that Samuel would have to wait to consummate the marriage until Lady reached the blood of womanhood or the age of sixteen, whichever came first. Samuel readily agreed.
After dinner, Micco went down to the creek. He didn’t usually fish in the dark, but he knew the water well. When he placed his hands in the water, he could sense that which he could not see. Joe was there, sitting on the bank, and as Micco fished he talked to Joe of his plans to give his only daughter in marriage to Samuel. The man was white, but then again any male who married into a woman’s clan was bound as kin, so it would ensure that his land stayed with their family. It seemed like a good plan to him.
Joe said no words, but he grunted, which Micco took as agreement. He caught no fish that day.
The next morning, Samuel climbed upon his horse. He told Micco he was riding to the town called Milledgeville to fill out the paperwork for the farm. He smiled as he told Micco he’d even decided on a name for the establishment. It would now be called “Wood Place.”
Samuel stayed gone for two weeks, and Micco was very afraid. On the day that his friend rode up to the cabin, Micco was filled with happiness. Yet Samuel seemed a changed man. He was no longer obsequious, and his voice seemed deeper. In three more days, the slave trader appeared with his mulatto helper, who was now a young man who tugged a chained coffle of five slaves. Money was exchanged between Samuel and the trader, and Samuel informed Micco that these were the new slaves who would build another cabin where Micco, Mahala, and their little girl would live. This structure would be located on the extreme south side of the farm, and Samuel would continue his outrages: he’d take over the cabin on the north side, the place Micco and his family had built and called their home.
A Series of Changes
As another five years passed, Samuel took over more of the running of the farm, especially after a minister married Samuel and ten-year-old Lady. She continued to live with her parents, but Samuel took walks with her, chaperoned by Mahala. Upon his return from these walks, he was even more authoritarian. When Micco tried to offer advice to Samuel about the farm he still considered his own, his new son-in-law took it as an opportunity to remind Micco of the papers that were registered in Samuel’s name with the white men in the town of Milledgeville. And Samuel continued to purchase more slaves.
Micco was upset, but he’d never been a warrior. He was a farmer, and in the years since Samuel had arrived at Micco’s farm more white men had settled in the area. There was even a white man named Aidan Franklin who had moved his family on top of the mound that rose on the edge of what used to be the village of the people.
Yet even with his small, daily aggressions, Micco wanted to believe that Samuel and he remained friends. Samuel often smiled with sincerity in their encounters, which confused Micco. Surely such a nice man could not be an enemy. He must be perceiving things incorrectly. And Micco would receive the white man with hospitality in his little cabin, which was now surrounded by slave houses, until the next day, when Samuel would commit another tiny outrage, and then another. Mahala, however, refused to blame him for their reduced circumstances and still treated him kindly. It was her husband toward whom she directed her wrath, during the nights, when their daughter was asleep.