along the board sidewalk, he watched the traffic and the people going about. Saying all the time to himself, what am I doing here? When he entered the auction house, he could see a long empty room, with just a counter off to the left side. On thru the building he could see a large door opening into a large walled open area. He walked on in. There was a platform facing about twenty wood benches. A crowd of mostly men filled the benches. Sam moved on down half way and sat on the end of one of the benches. The man next to him spoke up right quick.
“My name is Henry Stone. Are ya here to get some of them young bucks?”
“No,” replied Sam, “I’m looking for help for my farm.”
“These bucks ain’t no good. They’re from some big plantation over in Mississippi. Problem bucks, most have whip marks on em. You’ll be out chasing- em most of the time, if-n you get one. The old ones are all wore out, ain’t a good one in the whole bunch.”
Sam was looking over at a wire pen that held male slaves, most had chains on their legs and wrists, with a rope around their neck. Stone poked Sam. “Look at them Nigger women. They’re young, real young. Wish I had the money to buy one. A fat chance I’d have, there’s river men here. They’ll pay big bucks for them young gals.” Stone went on and on.
“How come, they want black girls so bad?”
“Them river boys, take em up river make whores out of em.”
“They’re too young for such goings on, why they can’t be more than twelve or thirteen year’s old.” Sam was uncomfortable with Stones words.
“Where you been man? Them boys up north love that black meat, they’ll pay big money to sleep with a black gal, the younger the better.” Sam was visibly up set.
“I’ve seen Indians take slaves, but they sure as hell don’t make whores out of them. Some things dead wrong with that. There should be a law against it.”
“Ever man to his own poison I say.” Stone was talk-n and look-n. “Wish I had the money, them gals will go for thousand dollars each, sure wish I had the money.”
Sam watching the women said, “There’s a few older ones, wonder what they’ll go for?”
“Them old ones done wore out. A man get a mammy pretty damn cheap, if that’s what you want.” Stone kept on talk-n.
Sam turned his attention to the men. Got up and moved over to get a closer look. An old looking fella setting up against the fence turned his head. He looked right into Sam’s eyes. He seemed to be pleading. Not a word was passed between them. The look penetrated Sam’s soul. Why would he buy this man? Sam asked himself. He returned to the bench.
The auction started. “Who’ll start this auction, who’ll give a thousand for this fine young buck?” Screamed the auctioneer. Someone in the rear yelled, “He ain’t worth that, look at all them whip marks.”
“He’s learned his lessons, I guarantee he’ll give you no trouble,” returned the auctioneer. “Most these boys are fresh off the boat, you’ll never find a better bunch than this. Look at the muscles on this buck, you’ll never find better. Who’ll give a thousand?” Up came the thousand. He sold for two thousand dollars to a man in a white linen suit.
Sam said softly to himself, “My five hundred ain’t gonna buy much here today.”
As the auction continued most of the prices stayed the same. More than sixty men were sold before the older ones came up. The first sold for five hundred.
Then the one he had looked at was on the block. First bid. One hundred, second, one fifty, then two hundred. Sam blurted out two fifty. The auctioneer cried for more. “This old buck has many more years in his old body. He knows more about cotton and animals than all the others put together.” He couldn’t get any more bids. “Going, going, gone to man in the black hat.” Sam had made a purchase of a slave. He felt total remorse about buying another human.
A short skinny man came and poked Sam. “Come with me you gotta pay for your old nigger.” Sam followed him to the counter inside the building. The man behind the counter said, “So you got an old one, good luck.”
Just then a rope was given Sam. In a gruff voice the man handing Sam the rope said, “Good luck! I’m a bet-en this old bastard dies before you get him home.” Sam’s temper got the best of him. “Get that rope off his neck and take the chains off him, do it NOW!”
“What! Hell he’ll run the first chance he gets.” The gruff one said.
“Hell, he’s so weak he can hardly lift his head. A fine bunch of ass-holes you people are. I wouldn’t treat a dog this way!” Sam was mad. Every blood vessel stood out on his face and neck.
“These ain’t people you son of a bitch,” the man said in a sneer. “They’re just niggers.” Sam in a fit of rage, drew back his right fist, it hit the loud mouth square on the nose. The blood fairly flew.
With blood freely flowing, “You broke my nose you dirty son-of-a-bitch,” the man cried. Sam drew his fist back again. Before he could let go, someone grabbed the bloody one and rushed him out the door to a water trough.
The man behind the counter handed Sam a bill of sale. “Get this old bastard out of here now. We don’t want no trouble,” he said in a loud voice.
Sam turned to the black man and said, “Follow me.” Out of the building, down the wood sidewalk to the wagon yard. There he told the old one, “Get in the wagon.”
Now the old one as he climbed in the wagon, spoke for the first time. “Master,” he said, “I knows you’s a good man, I can see’s it. I works this old body to the bone. I’z a never run a way, if-n you’s help me!”
“Help you, what do you want?”
“Master, did you see the woman in the grey dress?” The old one was trembling, as he spoke.
“I did. Why?”
“She’s my woman. We... we be together long time, can’s you’s buy her? She’s a good field hand, picks more cotton than any them young bucks and she’s with chill-en.” The old mans eyes were red and tears began to fill them. He was begging Sam.
“How do you know she’s with child, she don’t look that way to me.” Sam was looking for some assurance. “She knows, she told me so. We’ze done had two chill-en together.”
“Where are they now?”
“Kin’t rightly say, they was sold for house chill-en.” The old one said as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “White folk like little nigger chill-en . They keep- em to play with their chill-en. They been gone a long time. I needs this woman-I needs this woman,” he was begging. “Please Master can you’s see’s to get her? She won’t sell for much.”
Sam thought for a moment. I have some money left he said to himself.
“Please wont’s you’s try?” the old man was pleading again.
“Get in the wagon and stay put, I’ll go try. I can’t promise but I’ll try.”
Sam once more entered the building and on to the sale yard.
