75 Godiva Road, Saturday Morning

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Noah often didn't want to get up in the mornings when that arrogant overseer, Cato, rang the bell calling the field hands to work. Being a blacksmith was easier than picking cotton--no worries about getting whipped if he didn't make weight, for one--but it was still long hours and hard work, making sure that all the horses were shoed and the tools repaired and every bit of metal on the plantation was bright and shining.

Waking up this morning was even harder. His bed felt soft, like a cloud, and his blankets like the gentlest cotton, wouldn't scratch a baby's naked ass. His sheets felt clean and crisp and the soft breathing from behind him--

Sheets?

Breathing?

Noah's eyes snapped open but he made himself lie perfectly still. Sure, last night had been one of Bareback Shaw's parties, but that didn't explain why he was asleep in one of the white folks' rooms! He didn't even wanna guess what kinda punishment that would entail if he was found here. Never mind the one he'd get for not being back in his quarters by sunup.

Another muffled noise behind him. Noah wasn't sure he wanted to look over and see who it was. He was praying that it would be another slave. Getting caught in a white woman's bed would result in something far worse than just more stripes on his back.

Maybe he could just...eeeeease on out of this bed and be out the door and on his way back to Macon before anyone was the wiser.

[For thems that live here! Also TRIGGER WARNING! Hardison is Noah from WGN's Underground and is a slave from 1850's Georgia. That means there will be references to slavery, beatings, lynchings, sexual assault and rape/coercion and pretty much every other horrible topic that comes up in conjunction with treating humans like chattel.]

Comments

[vdistinctive]

"The what?" Look, Eliot had learned about a lot of underground political movements in his time, and without the word "railroad" attached, runaway slaves wasn't the first thing he thought of. "Right. I, uh. No. I ain't affiliated with anyone else."

He could have liked, he supposed. But it wasn't as though he could offer a lot of concrete detail to this guy about running north in the 19th century. Besides, Noah probably had enough people doing that already.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"So you jes' some random do-gooder that helps out every Negro what wakes up naked in bed with you an' some angry white lady?"

That slipped out before he thought. Dammit, he was supposed to be better at playing the part of a cowed slave!

[vdistinctive]

"This whole situation is a first for me, too," Eliot pointed out. "But yes, I try to help out black folks when I see they need it."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Well, how I get here, then?" Noah asked. "Last thing I 'member is goin' to Miz Shaw's gatherin'."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot shook his head. "Dunno for sure. Last coupla times this happened I was the one who got swapped out -- uh, ended up somewhere else." It wasn't quite what happened, but Eliot wasn't looking to explain to anyone that they weren't real, they were just someone else who'd been transformed for the weekend. "Best answer I can give ain't much of one at all: magic."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Noah's expression at that said pretty much everything he thought about that answer.