Except from Kings and not Slaves; A novel by Ola Osibodu. Download from www.olaosibodu.com

Leering at Elizabeth’s curvaceous posture Aldershot knew for certain that he had half a chance to get a man child out of this adultery. He had calculated this act promptly. It would be easy for Mary to find out if his infidelity involved a white woman since white side-actions these days wanted parity with legal wives. However if it involved a slave, Aldershot knew he could conceal her until she delivered his child. And if she equaled his wish and brought forth a son he could free her secretly and establish her elsewhere to look after the child. He had observed all his female slaves before making his choice; a white man’s union with a mulatto wench would produce a three-quarter white baby. Such babe could even pass for full white. Besides, this wench called Elizabeth could make a man fling his honor out of a window. Aldershot had lust for many days, gawking from his bedroom window at Elizabet as she walked to and fro, like a rooster that had eyes on a corncob waiting for its moment to beak. He loved how she looked like a perfect eight. He loved the almost mechanical movement of her hips whenever she walked. He became roused with that intrinsic anxiety that took hold of a man just before the deed. ‘Come closer, Betty. I am not going to hurt you,’ cooed Aldershot.
Elizabeth leaned her back against the doors, trembling. Her hands clasped each other as she looked around the room. Aldershot realized she looked at the neatly laid wide bed often. She also looked at an artwork of Mary framed high against the wall. He could tell what went through her mind. To be honest Mary looked solemn in that painting and could scare even herself. He guessed Elizabeth’s foreboding might be Mary bumping into the room right now. He said, ‘Don’t worry, she isn’t going to be back until the morrow. Now come closer.’
‘No,’ Elizabeth resented, shrugging her shoulder.
‘No what?’ Aldershot growled. It was farfetched that he would be refused by his property. She should be glad instead.
‘Massa please, I’s never do this befo’.’
Aldershot rose from the chair. He was almost twice her height on foot. ‘Come here now, you wench,’ he rasped.
Tears fell out of Elizabeth’s eyes. ‘Massa please. I’s beg you in the name of Jesus.’
Aldershot’s boiling libido dropped flat for seconds. He paused for a reflection. The name of Jesus brought honor to God in the United Methodist Faith where Aldershot had been awarded the exalted title of Honorary Member. But lately there had been segregation in the Church, another voice reminded him. For months a recently formed group of jobless scapegraces who called themselves The Virginia Quakers had protested to the Methodist Church of Virginia to strip Aldershot of his title and denounce his membership due to his involvement with slavery. They had claimed that he, Aldershot, contradicted in the highest order the freedom that God gave to all mankind, and that which the Country promulgated in its Declaration of Independence. They reminded members of clergy that slavery was one of such hypocritical mores that tainted the Anglicans and cradled the Wesleyan Revival. The Church bowed to pressure and did their wishes. The Quakers can go to Hades, Aldershot jumped out of his thought and fired himself towards Elizabeth. He swung her over the bed and climbed over her. Elizabeth howled, fighting his cast-iron urge as he laid spread-eagled over her. He proved too strong for her but she continued to grapple with him, bending her hips from side to side. ‘I will free you if you give me a son,’ Aldershot kept saying. He ripped her clothes apart. His eyes twinkled seeing her firm breasts. He wanted to suck them. Elizabeth pleaded as loud as she could while he pulled her arms apart. The double doors behind squeaked open and Aldershot leaped from the act. A scary image silhouetted against the candle light. No… it can’t be.

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