Out From This Place by Joyce Hansen Page B

respond.
    â€œWhy you keep that shirt on?” she tried again.
    â€œMissy say gentlemen always wear shirt.” He looked down at his feet.
    Easter snatched him by his arm. “I don’t want to hear bout no Missy!”
    He jerked away from her, listening in silence as she showed him how to hoe the ground.
    They dragged wearily back to their huts when the sun set. Easter thought that her back was broken. Suddenly Jason stopped walking, pulled off his broken-down shoes, and flung them into a bush.
    When they reached their cabin, Melissa said, “Better fix something to eat. I starvin’.” She rummaged through a sack hanging near the fireplace. “Let’s see, the Yankee giveus two pound of rice and some salt pork. Guess we could—”
    Sarah pulled her arm. “Look at them,” she said, pointing to Easter, Jason, and Rose. They’d collapsed, drunk from exhaustion, on the bench. Jason lay his head on Easter’s lap. “I too tired to eat, Melissa,” Easter moaned.
    â€œField work is terrible when you not use to it. But you’ll get use to it. You’ll always be tired, but not too tired to eat.”
    I never get use to this,
Easter told herself as she rubbed her back.
And I figurin’ a way to leave.
    At the end of the week all of them reported to Mr. Reynolds’s assistant for their pay. Easter, unable to count, stared at the two coins in her hands.
    â€œThat’s two dollars,” Julius said, peeping over her shoulder as they left the large shed where the farm tools were kept.
    She frowned. “Is it much?”
    â€œIf you keep savin’ these dollars, it can be a lot.” Julius placed his two silver dollars in a small leather pouch.
    â€œWhat do I get?” Jason asked, running up to Easter.
    â€œIf you work hard, I give you one of these.” She held up a silver dollar.
    They walked past the stables. Julius rubbed Jason’s head. “Well, little fella, what you goin’ to buy with one whole dollar?”
    â€œA new shirt, new shoes, and new britches.”
    â€œWell, Miss Easter, I think you have to give this boy more money.”
    â€œHe have to work harder than he work this week.”
    â€œWhat’re you goin’ to do with your money?” Julius asked Easter.
    She shrugged her shoulders, wishing he’d stop asking her so many questions. She had no idea what she would do with the money, except save it. She figured she’d need money when she left the plantation.
    Before going to sleep that night, Easter tore the rufflescompletely off Jason’s shirt, and taking two pieces of the material, she wrapped a coin in each. “Half for me and half for you,” she told Jason. His tired eyes managed to brighten a bit.
    â€œIf I work in the field, I get one dollar each week?” he asked.
    â€œYes, but you have to really work, Jason. Not play.”
    She tore the sleeves off his shirt and held it up. “I’ll wash this shirt good, and it look like new. Now it’s right for working in the field.” But Jason was fast asleep and didn’t see his altered shirt.
    The next day was Sunday. Rose, wearing her red and white gingham dress, stood over Easter, who was just waking up. “The people have a Sunday church service, and they invite all of us. Why don’t you come?” Rose said.
    Easter sat up, rubbing her eyes. “I want to sleep.”
    â€œI tired and sore too, but I goin’.”
    Easter lay back down. “I too tired, Rose.”
    Rose left. Easter had begun to drift off to sleep again when she heard sounds. At first she thought that someone was crying. She listened harder and realized that it was singing—voices rising and falling and rolling toward her in waves. Jason stirred. “We goin’ in the field today?” he asked.
    Easter stretched. “No. It Sunday.”
    â€œSee, if I was with Missy, she give me a special Sunday morning