Of Love and Liberation

He would kill him. He’d kill him if he died doing it. Jonathan’s hands were working on their own. If he murdered Edward, if he broke Edward’s neck, he would be hanged. But what after he tried to do to Mary… He would see to it that Edward would never touch his sister or anyone else on the plantation. Edward was terrified. Jonathan could see the fear in his eyes as he grasped the man’s neck. He put a sweaty hand under his chin. One sharp turn. That crack had been the most gratifying sound he had ever heard. Jonathan let the dead man’s head drop. It hit one of the giant oak’s tree trunks with a thump. He stood up off his knees slowly, as though wrought with old age. He inhaled the sultry air slowly, his eyes soaking up his work.
“Jonathan you shouldn’t have done that.”
Jonathan exhaled quickly and spun around to his sister, his heels digging into the dirt. Mary stood before him, part of her body covered with dirt from her struggle with Edward.
“Clarence is gonna kill you,” she muttered tearfully.
Jonathan smiled tenderly. He began to wipe the tears streaming down her face. “Ain’t nobody gonna kill me.”
She jerked away from him and pointed to the body. “Yes they is! When Clarence sees that he gonna hang you right here on this tree,” she said fearfully, almost angrily.
Jonathan shook his head silently, though he knew she was speaking the truth. There was nothing he could do to change that. So he took her arm and began to lead her away from the giant oak tree, and Edward’s body. Abruptly, Mary stopped. Jonathan looked at her, alert. He turned in the direction she was staring at: towards the Big House. Emerging from the back porch of the mansion was a tall, thin white man with a bullwhip coiled around one bony hand and a Colt on his hip. Suddenly, Mary’s arm slipped from his grip. She stepped in front of him in a futile attempt to protect him.
Clarence approached them slowly, staring them down with accusing eyes. He let the bullwhip uncoil and touch the ground. He looked at Mary, and then at Jonathan. Then he saw the body of his dead son lying beneath the tree. He ran past Mary and Jonathan and fell to his knees beside the corpse. He lifted Edward’s body and its head fell limp on its shoulders. He dropped the carcass as though it were a rattlesnake and hopped to his feet.
“Who done it?” he drawled in low whisper. His lips twitched a bit. “I said who killed my son? Which one of you niggers killed my son?”
He raised the whip high above his head. Quickly Jonathan pushed Mary aside. He took a step towards Clarence
“Me.”
Clarence’s lips twitched again as his face contorted. He was about to strike Jonathan down. Jonathan held his breath and tightened every muscle in his body as he had done with every whipping Clarence gave him. He closed his eyes. The whipping didn’t come. He opened his eyes. Clarence’s mind was no longer focused on him. The man was staring pass him. Jonathan twisted around little by little. Across the yard appearing from the house was a woman wearing a lavish dress. Holding the skirt of the dress up with both hands she took small, hurried steps towards the giant oak tree. Clarence spoke hastily.
“Now Clara you stay back there!” he yelled nervously. “Don’t you be wanderin’ back here! I mean it woman!”
She walked up to them and stopped beside Mary. Mary looked at her fretfully.
“Clarence what’s goin’ on here that you havin’ a time tryin’ to hide?” She looked around at everyone.
Clarence pushed Jonathan out of this path and stepped towards his wife. He stood in front of her, blocking her view of Edward’s body. She looked up at him curiously, then leaned to the side and looked pass him. She shrieked into her hands and fell to the ground beside Mary.
On queue, Mary jumped in front of Jonathan again. She opened her arms like a shield. Clarence turned to them.
“Don’t you dare touch him!” she yelled viciously as the white man readied himself to deliver a hard blow. Neither the fierceness in her voice nor pleading in her eyes deterred him from striking them. The tip of the whip caught her shoulder. She screamed and Jonathan shoved her aside and she fell beside Clara. In wild rage, Jonathan lunged at him. Clarence reached into the holster on his hip and pulled out his Colt. Mary’s scream echoed throughout the Armstrong’s Plantation as Jonathan’s blood splattered all over her.