Mammy - The Book - Add a Chapter



Mammy - Add a chapter and pass it on. Let's see what happens! I only ask that you stick with my theme.



Theme: Carolyn, disgusted with how the slaves are treated on her father's plantation, becomes a type of Christ by forfeiting her inheritance and becoming a slave herself.

Chapter 1: Carolyn's "Not Made in Paris" Dress

Scene: Carolyn is in her fancy plantation home bedroom and has just been shown the new dress her family's maid has made for her.




"Oh, Mammy! It takes my breathe away! It's precious! Just like the picture. You've done well, Mammy! You've done well!" Carolyn held the new yellow satin creation up to her neck and swirled in front of her full length mirror.



"Hurry, I can't wait to try it on. Here, help me off with these things," said Carolyn excitedly.



"Ohhhhh, Hunny, it ain't all that purrdy. Now don't go stretching the truth there, little cutie? This didn't come on no ship from Paris or nothin!" said the servant holding down a smile.



"Oh, but Mammy, the picture came from Paris, and you copied it exactly perfectly. You did, Mammy, now don't deny it, good ol' Mammy!" soothed Carolyn.



Women Stand on Antebellum Mansion's Porch Framed by Belgian Ironwork
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"Ohhhh, commmmon, let's get this dress that don't come from Paris on yuh." replied the big, black slave, snatching up her buttons and trying to hide her pride.



The husky servant hurried to unbutton Carolyn's dress, then stopped suddenly, listening, pondering, aching. Carolyn spun around and looked in the slave's eyes. She looked in her heart. She saw the pounding, the fear, the stress.



"Hunny, yuh doesn't mind if I's turns on your gramophone does yuh?" The dark slave said quietly and slowly, her mood totally changed, as she staggered toward the machine.



There it was again...even Carolyn heard it this time, yelps from far off, sounding like a puppy caught in a wolf trap. But Carolyn knew it was no puppy and there was no wolf trap. Normally she brushed off the sounds, but now, seeing how it affected her Mammy, she stopped.



"Mammy, what is it? What's wrong? What's the matter, Mammy? Mammy, please, tell me, what is it? Mammy, is that....?" asked Carolyn sighing, carefully not daring to finish.



"Ohhhhhhh," said the now red-eyed slave, staring off into the distance, "I's just thinking how nice it'd be to hear those angels I've hierd bout, singing once and awhile. I's....I's be alright, now don't you ast me no more questions, yuh hear?" replied Mammy, blinking back the wetness forming in her eyes.



Mammy could tell that Carolyn knew and knew more every day the older she got. She could see the compassion in her eyes, the wondering, the wanting to reach out and change something.



The gramophone became Mammy's angels as Stephen Foster's melodies started filling the big, fancy bedroom.



Yes, Mammy helped Carolyn into her new, 'not from Paris' yellow satin dress, but both were silent.



After dinner, Mammy trudged home along a dusty road to her own little shack not far from the mansion. No angels were singing. Her heavy breathing and pounding heart and sobs even drowned out the spring bird chirping in the oak trees overhead.



A Man Leads His Horse at Oak Alley, an Antebellum Sugar Plantation
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Finally, now she could cry. She'd held it back all day, trying to be kind, forgiving, loving...trying, trying, trying. She didn't know how much longer she could try...7 X 70...that's what she aimed to do...every day, until her dying day finally set her free from sorrow.



Mammy dried her eyes the best she could on her apron and stepped through her shabby wooden door on rusty hinges.



Interior of Slave Cabin Where Booker T. Washington was Born, Burroughs Tobacco Plantation, Virginia


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Yes, it was him. She sort of knew it was. It was becoming a pattern, almost daily now.



Moses lay on the bed, almost unconscious, breathing heavily, sobbing quietly.



"Moses, Hunny, they done it agin? What happened, Hunny? No, don't go telling me anymore of yur stories...just let muh get that bloody shirt off yur back," mourned Ma as she kept on a quiet prattling while she worked.



"Moses, yuh gotta leirn, Hunny. It's simple, jist work hard and obey, those two little rules...it ain't that hard...Moses, Hunny, yuh gotta leirn...it ain't that hard..." pleaded Ma.



"Ma, Uh work hard, that ain't nothin...Uh always work hard. It's the urther part, Ma, the urther part..." sobbed Moses.



"Moses, Moses, Moses," chanted Ma as she rocked him like a baby in her arms. "Here, I's got just a little ointment left. Let muh put it on those ugly things."



"Now, Moses, Hunny, there ain't no more ointment, none for timorrow, or the next day, or the next day...Hunny," but Moses interrupted her.



"Ma, there ain't gonna be a next day, Ma. Uh'm running away. Mr. Zach said he'd kill muh next time, Ma, and uh think he would too, Ma, Uh jist gotta run away, there ain't no urther way, Ma, " urged Moses.



"Moses, Hunny, I's ain't never taught yuh to run away. I's taught yuh to do right, yuh know right," pleaded Ma.



"Moses," Ma said dreamily, "Wuh ain't lone no more. No more lone. I's feel it in muh bones."



"Oh, Ma, ain't uh heird that b'fore...no more lone, no more lone. Did them angels finally start singing? Uh, Ma, hoping in angles, Ma? Ma, they ain't real. They ain't real. They jist ain't real!" Moses panted starting to sob and tremble.



"No, Moses, Uh was with one tuday. Yep, tuday. Uh could see it, talked to it, uh even helped it put on a new, 'not made in Paris' dress tuday," spoke Ma as if in a trance.



"Oh, Ma, now uh know yuh done gone crazy like old uncle Tom. Ma, member how he's sit in the ol' rockin chair and dram of livin' in some far off place with swans and pie evera day? Oh, Ma, yuh cin't scear huh that away, pretent to be crazy so I's stays home and takes cer of yuh. Uh ain't falling for it, Ma. uh ain't falling fer it." stated Moses with unsureness in his voice.



"Moses, listen tu muh. Carolyn heird yuh tuday, she heird yuh. She knows. She knows. And uh know she cers. She cers. How that chil can be so not like her ma and pa, I's never know," mused Ma as if in some far off place.



"Well, Ma, Uh knows." said Moses. "Uh knows. Uh's always knowed that. It's cus yuh done raised hur ma, yuh done raised her. Hur ma and pa ain't never there fur hur. Yuh there Ma, yuh more like her Ma than her own ma. Yuh done taught hur right Ma, yuh done taught hur right. Yuh done taught myself right too, Ma. Yuh done taught myself right too," admitted Moses with new revelation.



"Ma, yuh's more than a ma to Carolyn, yuh's her angel," added Moses. "Welllll, maybe we's no more lone. Mayba so."

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