Chapter 2: Roots of Rebellion

I gazed out at the river's flow from my perch on the rock, while Thornhill badgered me about slavery for what felt like the hundredth time. Although I knew he meant well, hearing about the life I had left behind was painful. Eventually, I turned to him and asked, "Why are you so interested in this?"

Thornhill met my gaze, his blue eyes a mix of guilt and determination. "My father owns this plantation, and I have lived a privileged life because of it. But I know that what he is doing is wrong, and I want to make a change. I want to help."

I was astonished by his response and stood there dumbfounded. After all, we had met in secret at the riverbank for three months, and I never once picked up on the fact that his name was Thornhill and that he was the plantation owner's son. "Thornhill, I had no idea," I said in a daze.

Thornhill nodded earnestly. "I want to help the slaves, but I know it won't be easy. To make a real difference, I need to have control over all the people. But I promise you, Kofi, that if you help me, I will do everything in my power to set you free."

Although I was skeptical of his promise, something in Thornhill's eyes made me want to believe him. Over the past few months, we had formed a brotherhood, and he had taught me things like language and math that no other slave had ever learned. I knew that Thornhill was different from the other slave owners, but it was still hard for me to trust a white man.

"Thornhill, I appreciate your offer, but true freedom means being able to make our own choices. We can't rely on anyone else to save us," I replied cautiously.

Thornhill nodded gravely. "I understand, Kofi. But I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to make things right. I won't rest until you and all the other slaves on this plantation are free."

As we sat in silence, the tension between us dissipated, and I knew that our brotherhood had grown even stronger. Thornhill's promise might have seemed far-fetched, but his determination was undeniable. For the first time in a long time, I felt a glimmer of hope for a better future.

As Thornhill and I said our goodbyes, each of us heading back to our respective worlds. For Thornhill, it was the world of privilege and power that came with being the son of a plantation owner. For me, it was the world of oppression and servitude that came with being a slave.

I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to our connection than just a shared love of learning. Something about Thornhill's features reminded me of myself, and the birthmark on his back seemed all too familiar. However, I brushed off the thought as mere coincidence and headed back to the slave quarters.

As I walked through the fields, I heard hushed whispers emanating from a group of slaves who had gathered together. They spoke in low tones, their words laced with fear and uncertainty. I heard my mother's name mentioned, and my heart rate spiked with anxiety.

"We need to make a move soon," he said. "The master's getting suspicious. But we need to be careful. We don't want any of our people getting hurt."

"But how can we trust Nwahi?" one of the slaves asked. "She works in the master's house. She could be spying on us Olou."

"Listen," Olou replied firmly. "I trust her. She's been slipping me information about the master's schedule for months. Without her, we wouldn't be able to plan this escape."

"She's been helping us from the start," Olou said, his voice calm but resolute. "I trust her with my life."

"But she's the master's concubine," another slave spoke up, his voice dripping with suspicion. "How do we know she's not just playing us all?"

I had never heard this before. My mother, the master's concubine? I didn't even know what that meant, but the way they said it made me feel sick to my stomach.

"She is my brother's wife" Olou replied firmly. "Disrespecting her is disrespecting me. Are you disrespecting me!?"

As the slaves continued to discuss their plans, I quietly slipped away and headed back to my room. I had a lot to think about. My mother was involved in the rebellion, but she was also the master's concubine. How could she be both? And what did that mean for our family? My head was spinning with questions, but I knew I had to be careful with this information. I didn't want to put my mother in danger, but I also knew that I couldn't ignore what I had heard.

I lay in my bed, trying to process everything, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Anger, confusion, and fear all swirled within me. How could my mother be involved in this rebellion? Had she been lying to me this whole time? And how long had she been the master's concubine? The thought of her being used and abused by the very person who owned us made me sick to my stomach.

But at the same time, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for my mother. She was fighting for our freedom, even if it meant risking her own life. I admired her strength and bravery, but I also couldn't shake the feeling that everything was falling apart.

I didn't know what to do. Should I confront my mother about what I had heard? Should I keep quiet and pretend I didn't know anything? I was torn between wanting to protect my family and wanting to do what was right.

As the night wore on, I finally drifted off to sleep, my mind still racing with thoughts and questions. Little did I know that my life would never be the same again. The rebellion was coming, and whether I was ready or not, I would be caught in the middle of it all.