Frog's Run

Frog - Chapter Three

Moses was waiting for them at the edge of the field when they came through the tree line. They were careful to make sure no one was watching them. The walked together to the makeshift fire Moses had prepared and began to prepare hoecakes as was their daily custom. No one said a word on the way back, until Moses finally broke the silence.

“It doesn’t take a diviner to know something is wrong. Anyone want to spell it out for me?” he asked glancing around.

“I found Frog off in the trees like you said,” answered Frog’s daddy.  “That overseer Tom Jansen was whippin’ him good. I stopped him.”

“Ira, what do you mean you stopped him?” asked Moses bewildered at the thought.

“I killed him. He’s dead. Far as I know, no one seen it but he’ll be found soon enough.

  “Jumping Jehosaphat! Oh lord help us! The devil incarnate is going be after you now, Ira. What are you going to do?”

“Nothin’. Ain’t nothin’ to do. Can’t run, then they know I did it. Figure as long as no one knows who did it…” Frog's daddy trailed off and didn’t finish his thought. He just looked at Frog with all the worry a man can show on his face.

Frog never saw his daddy look worried before. His daddy was always calm and knew what to do. It hurt Frog to see his daddy look like this. His daddy wouldn’t hurt a fly and now he’s killed a man, and it was all Frog’s fault. As much as he tried he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing again. “I’m sorry, daddy.” He cried.

“Hush there boy and wipe those tears. Ain’t nothin’ for you to be sorry about. You just being you and you can’t help that, just as a dog can’t help scratching at fleas. When you itch you’ve got to scratch. Just comes natural. So stop that crying and eat.

Frog did as he was told the best he could. Still, between the burning and stinging on his back and the heartbreak, it was almost too much for him to stand. As they finished eating, JoJo ran to fetch the water bucket and began passing around the ladle for them to drink. Catching something out of the corner of his eye, Moses looked up and his worried expression turned into terror.

“Lord have mercy,” said Moses, “look there. Here they come.” As the group looked up they could see a half a dozen men armed with rifles approaching on horseback. They were followed by Chester who was running as fast as he could to keep up. One of the horses didn’t have a rider but it was easily noticed that a body was draped across the saddle. “When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions,” said Moses leaving his mouth hanging open when he was through.

Frog’s daddy turned to Frog and whispered to him, staring him straight in the eyes. “Listen here, boy. No matter what happens, you’re to keep you’re mouth shut. Do ya here me? I mean shut.”

“Yes daddy,” said Frog, hardly moving his lips at all. The look on his daddy’s face frightened him terrible. His whole body began to shake.

As the riders came to a halt in front of the make shift camp, the four slaves all stood up. Frog’s daddy and Moses removed their hats. The master of the plantation, August Anderson was sitting on his mount, right in front of them. Frog had never been as afraid as he was now. Not even when he was being beat. Along with the master was his son, Lucas and several other overseers and men associated with the family. Chester came running up behind them, breathing heavy and struggling with every step. His age was catching up to him and he wasn’t as used to strenuous activity as the other field slaves. As he was coming close to them, he tripped over his own feet and landed face first in the dirt. He must have ate some because he stood back up spitting. He quickly dusted himself the best he could one handed and then jaunted up through the horses, just behind the master’s horse.

“Get up here, Chester,” said August Anderson. He was a short man, about five and a half feet tall. He was plump and surely. His face was round but weathered and he looked all of his sixty years. He chose to go clean shaven aside from a pair of mutton chops that were almost solid white and liked to dress in expensive clothes. He wore a charcoal frock coat with matching pants, a grey vest and a black cravat. On his head he wore a grey derby. A bit simple actually, compared to his son, Lucas.

Lucas Anderson was a six foot tall twenty one year old and was usually away from the plantation attending college. He was blonde haired like his mother and donned a blonde goatee. Also unlike his father he was much more of a dandy, witnessed by his slate blue frock coat with black pants and soft grey, paisley ascot. He also wore a soft grey, short top hat on his head and the look of death on his face.

As Chester moved to the front, August Anderson pointed towards Frog and the group. “Is this them?” he barked. “Is he here?”

“Yes sir, that’s him right there. Ira, he the one who did it,” proclaimed Chester, pointing directly at Frog’s daddy.

“You sure?” asked the master.

“Yes sir, master. I seen him take Mr. Tom’s whip from him and strangle him with it. I ran straight away to fetch you when I seen it.”

August Anderson wagged his fat stump of a finger at Frog’s daddy. “Step forward,” he commanded. Frog’s daddy patted Frog on his arm reassuringly and stepped in front of the master’s horse. “You’re Ira?” he asked.

Frog's daddy gave a nod. 

“You the one who killed old Tom here?”

Frog's daddy again responded with a single nod.

“Why did you do such a thing?”

Frog's daddy remained silent. He knew that if it was found out that Frog had been getting whipped, someone would most likely continue the lesson.

“Speak up now, why did you kill old Tom.”

No response.

“Well, you gave me no choice. You know the punishment that comes with what you did. Take him back to the huts and stake him up. I want all slaves back at the huts to witness the serving of justice.”

Just as he said it, Lucas Anderson jumped his horse forward. He had been at the ready with a rope in hand. He swung the rope and lassoed Frog’s daddy around the neck. With a yank the rope tightened around his throat. Lucas Anderson kicked his heels and his horse quickly took off, launching Frog’s daddy from his feet, and dragging him through the dirt.

“Whoa, hold on there!” yelled August Anderson to his son. “Let him walk it back. I don’t want him dead yet.”

Lucas stopped his horse which loosened the rope just a little. Frog’s daddy instantly began coughing and struggling for air. Frog moved to go help his daddy but was knocked down by an overseer’s horse before he could even get close. All Frog could do was look up from the ground and see his daddy stumbling off with the rope around his neck, trying his best to keep it from going taught.

Moses walked the boys back to the huts. The area was already getting crowded with slaves from all over the plantation as they gathered from the fields, from the house, the barns and everywhere the slaves worked. They were crowding around a central area where a common fire pit was located. The slaves weren’t allowed to gather around the fire pit any large numbers except on Christmas, Easter and Independence Day when they were allowed to build a fire and sing hymns for a few hours.

As they broke through the crowd, Frog noticed that everyone did their best to avoid eye contact with him, Even Gully, who just patted him on the shoulder as he passed but wouldn’t look at him. Frog winced a little but fought back the pain. As the reached the front of the crowd, Frog stopped and stared in horror. There was his daddy tied to a tall stake, standing in the fire pit. Firewood was piled all around him and leaning against him waist high. Frog would have screamed except he was frozen at the sight. After a moment of staring, his daddy made eye contact with him.

“Daddy….,” he whispered. He tried to run to him but someone was holding him tight from behind and telling him to stay put. He couldn’t take his eyes off his daddy. His daddy had blank expression on his face except that he was sweating profusely and his forehead was wrinkled. He just kept staring back at Frog with a love in his eyes that Frog had seen many times.

Behind Frog’s daddy were the men that took him and several more had joined. All but a few were still on horseback. Some started to move their horses, encircling the crowd. All were holding their rifles at the ready. The others that had dismounted were standing around the fire pit. One was holding a torch ablaze.

“I brought you all here to witness justice,” announced August Anderson. “This slave decided to take it upon himself to murder a white man, and one of your overseers at that. This cannot and will not be tolerated. You all know that I’m a man of my word. I have told you all the rules and what would happen if you broke them. This man broke the rules of this plantation and did more that that. He broke the laws of this state. The penalty for murder is death and justice will be served here today. You will all be witness to it.”

August Anderson nodded to the man holding the torch and the man walked up to the wood pile and lit it. Just then Frog was pulled swiftly back into the crowd. Frog fought it with all his might and was able to break free for just a moment and catch sight of his father again. He stared into his fathers eyes and his father stared back, both with tears streaming down their faces. The last thing Frog saw of his daddy was his lips mouthing the words, “I love you.” Then frog was pulled back into the crowd. This time he couldn’t break free. The crowd enclosed around him making a shield between him and his daddy.

Frog’s entire body went weak, but he was held up by strong hands and was spun around. Moses held Frog and hugged Frog tight. Frog hugged Moses back. When Frog’s daddy began to scream, Moses buried Frog’s head into his chest and covered his other ear with his hand. Even though Moses did his best to drown away the sounds, Frog could still hear his daddy scream for mercy. He heard him begging the master, he heard him begging God, and he heard him beg them all. Eventually the begging stopped and there wasn’t a sound to be heard but the crackling and popping of the fire.