The Incredible Journey of Thomas Johnson

 

Copyright© 2017 – Nicholas Hall

 

Chapter Four

"Where do we come from?

What are We?

Where are we going?

(Paul Gauguin)

 

Watch What You Say

 

Chapman's Farm – April 3, 1865

I woke up early the next morning, far earlier than I was accustomed to, surprisingly rested. Opening my eyes, I first noticed the crotches of Benjie and Henri since they were standing close to the bed, near my head. I raised my eyes to their faces, shining with smiles and gleaming, white teeth. I happily returned their smiles!

"You're all better, I think," Benjie said with satisfaction.

"How could I not be," I replied, "being awakened by two stunningly handsome young men?"

"You're funny!" giggled Henri.

You're cute as a button, I thought, repressing the urge to say it out loud for fear of his mistaking my intentions as less than honorable. Well, they were, but no sense taking any chances until I'd scoped out the territory and found a getaway in case things went south, so to speak! As of this point in time, I still had no idea where I was, although Madame Doucet did give me some indication the day before, and not a clue how to get to either community until I was able to return to my motorcycle and crank it up for a hasty departure!

The boys continued to stand by my bedside, watching, waiting! My morning tumescence was just as rigid as a fence post, hard, twitching, and refused to relax! I really didn't think it would wilt, even just a smidgen, with those delicious young lads standing so close.

"Momma Doucet sent some clothes for you wear," Benjie announced, "we put them over there on the chair,"

"She thought Jefferson and you were about the same size so she sent a pair of pants and a shirt," Henri added, pointing at the clothing, draped over the chair.

Again, I hesitated, after all I was still solidly erect and completely naked! Dare I stand and reveal myself in front of such youth? Would they run and tell Madame I'd exposed my genitals, in quite a turgid state, in their presence? Since this was a farm, might I be quickly gelded as a result? The very thought wilted me just a little, so I thought, what the hell, "in for a penny, in for a pound," and slid out of bed. When I stood, my now erect cock (it had only faded a bit before zipping to fullness again) pointed straight out in front of me, not a foot from each boy, they were that close! Benjie and Henri stood, mouths wide open, eyes fixed on my crotch, in apparent awe of what was before them! I heard just two quiet words,

"Wow!"

"Nice!"

I walked casually over to the chair, picked up the shirt, turned and faced the boys once more, and slipped the shirt over my head and stuffed my arms into the sleeves. When the shirt settled on my shoulders, the bottom hem in the back covered my butt, but the front hem was restrained from dropping any lower than my stiff appendage. I noticed two sets of eyes never left it while both boys slipped a hand down the front of their own pants, seeking their own articles of delight!

Picking up the pants, after looking around for some underwear and finding none, I slowly slipped one leg in and then the next and pulled the pants up to my waist, allowing, as I did so, first, for the head of my dick to poke out from the unbuttoned fly and, once I'd buttoned up, to stick up over the waist band until the pants were properly in place. I lifted the suspenders over my shoulders so my pants wouldn't take a southern journey while I walked. I'm not so well equipped it'd stick above the waist; not hardly, considering it was only a little less than seven inches, but thick, at full staff, I'm certain it looked as if it would peek out to two smaller boys, especially since I'm small framed and relatively thin, accentuating the size and length of my manly staff compared to the rest of my body! I wiggled a bit, allowing my dick and balls to settle in place, deciding it wasn't so bad going commando again, as I once did while in high school.

The display ended, Benjie and Henri finally looked me in the eyes and, embarrassed, started to speak at once, but I silenced them with a grin and a knowing wink, eliciting a happy and confident smile from each of them knowing our secret would be safe!

"We've got to get to school," announced Henri and the boys scooted out the door.

No sooner had they departed when Madame Doucet popped her head in the door.

"I see the boys gave you the clothes to wear. I thought they might be more comfortable than the ones you had on. Besides, those were soiled; on wash day, bring them to the laundry and we'll get them washed up for you."

I thanked her for the offer, doubting I'd even be here on `wash day,' and she continued, "Breakfast is almost done, so if you want something to eat, come to the kitchen," and left the room.

Once she was gone, I quickly put my knife in my pocket, pulled a pair of socks from my duffle, put on my Wellington's, and washed up in the basin with water from the pitcher. I looked in the small mirror on the wall and decided, although I looked a bit scruffy, I could go another day without shaving. My oblations complete, except for brushing my teeth which I intended doing after breakfast, I stepped out of the room into the hall. From the noise and laughter, it wasn't difficult finding my way to the kitchen.

I entered the very large kitchen and when I did the chatter stopped and all present looked at me! Sitting around a really, really big kitchen table was a mixture of African-American males and females.

"Excuse me," I said apologetically and quickly, intending to step back into the hall.

"No, no," insisted Madame Doucet, "Please stay and eat your breakfast. It'll give you an opportunity to meet everyone here."

I felt very much out of place, my lighter skin contrasting with the various shades of brown and black before me. An older man stood, extended his hand, introducing himself as, "Hannibal Doucet; I'm the foreman here. If'n we was still down south, I'd be the overseer, but only white folk had that job!"

Now I did feel out of place; not only out of place, but suddenly felt out of time! Who used the term "overseer" now days? That was a term used in pre-Civil War times when slavery was rampant in the south and the other slave states.

"My sons," he continued and pointed around the table; "Jacque, Gabriel, Reuben, Paul, Jefferson, and Jubal." Each young man nodded as his name was recited and smiled a greeting to me. "I think you've already met my youngest boy, Antoine. He gone to school with Henri and Benjie."

Tilting his head toward another gentleman at the end of the table, "That's Hiram Davis and the woman at the stove be his wife. She be the head cook and he be the man in charge of our stables. The two women, heavy with child next to her, be Jacque's wife and Gabriel's wife; Leticia and Sarah. Hiram's two daughters, Delphine and Delia, be over in the big house getting it ready. They also helps in the kitchen."

Introductions complete, Madame Doucet invited me sit at the table and enjoy breakfast. Leticia served me hot coffee ("cream if you like" and I did), a plate of fresh baking powder biscuits and sausage gravy topped with two eggs over easy, and a slice of dried apple pie on the side. While I ate, I could not help but overhear Hannibal talking with his sons concerning what had to be done that day and preparations for spring planting. From their conversation, it was clear the Doucet Family was the driving force behind the farm operation. It was also abundantly clear Madame Celeste Doucet was in charge of the domestic help as well as all other things domestic including medical in the absence of a physician.

Jacque, Gabriel, Paul, and Jefferson were in the process of planning field preparation for planting corn and oats, along with some barley. The discussions centered around the fields to be used, the amount of seed needed, and the extra help that'd be hired to assist in the planting. Rueben, in charge of the livestock including the milk cows, with help from Jubal, was going to move cattle and sheep to different pastures and when Jubal was done, he was to come back to the barns to help Hiram with breeding a mare horse with a donkey stud. Jubal also helped Rueben with the pigs.

Evidently most of the farming was done with mules (the sterile offspring of horse and donkey or donkey and horse depending on who topped who), but there also were horses used both for farming and for transportation. If I heard correctly, there were riding horses and those used for pulling carriages.

"What do Henri, Benjamin, and Antoine do?" directing my question to Madame Doucet.

"The little boys, that's what we call them," she answered with a smile, "have their own chores to do before and after school. They're responsible for the poultry – the chickens, ducks and geese- and taking care of the few goats we have. They gather the chicken eggs and make certain all the fowl are well fed and have plenty of water. We make our own cheese using the goat milk and enjoy a young goat kid on occasion for meat. The boys take care of them as well. Their main task, now, is going to school and getting an education. During the summer they help with all of the work as they are able. Of course, being young boys, they also have time to enjoy life as well. As they get older, they'll have plenty of time to work. Hopefully, they won't have to break their backs with hard labor like the rest of the boys. Milking the cows and the goats is done by Leticia, Sarah, Delphine, and Delia, depending on who is available, usually only two of the four are needed."

Seeking a refill of my coffee, I also casually asked how many people the farm employed. She thought a moment and replied, "Not counting family, we have three other men, who are tenants, working farm land and two of their wives who help at the big house and the kitchen when needed. There are houses located on the farmsteads on the property for them to live in. They each have one hundred sixty acres or so to farm. There are four other single men who work full-time on the farm as well."

A quick calculation in my head determined there was at least four hundred and sixty acres Mr. Chapman owned. How many more I could only guess.

"The rest of this property is farmed by the boys and the hired help. During harvest time and planting time, Mr. Chapman hires more people. It takes a large crew to plant and then harvest the crops. He has a bunk house for the single men. Usually we don't get many married helpers for the planting and harvest- mostly just single fellows. We fix all of the food for everyone in this kitchen."

So, there was more to this property and, if the inference from her remarks were correct, Mr. Chapman owned property elsewhere as well. Mr. Chapman appeared, from my limited knowledge, a fairly well-to-do man – a man of considerable property at the least!

The kitchen was well equipped with a large cast iron cook stove, fueled with coal as best as I could gather, with two ovens. There were two large tables near the stove, for working on, a large double sink with pitcher pump on one end for water and what looked like, a drain pipe under each sink leading out through a wall to the outside somewhere. Strange, I thought since there were few other signs of progress in the house. A large pantry sat off to the side of the kitchen toward the back.

Before I could ask, she added, "Most of the extra help are colored folk; white men don't like to work for a colored man, even up here!"

Leaning back, sipping my coffee, I overheard Hannibal say, "I heard tell Mr. Lincoln goin' to take Richmond soon and drive them Secessh out of there."

I opened my mouth to say "That was done a hundred years ago," but I stopped with "That was done..." when all of the men and the women stopped talking and what they were doing to stare at me. The room was deathly quiet, as if the whole body assembled waited for me to finish with some sort of learned pronouncement, their eyes wide with expectation!

To be continued.

***

Thank you for reading "The Incredible Journey of Thomas Johnson" – Chapter Four

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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