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Born Into Freedom The Locus Lucas Family An American Saga

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#Excerpt 12
The Locus Lucas family is one of the oldest families of color in America today, whose lineage traces back to the 1600s in Virginia. They are the largest tri-racial (African, European, and Indian) black-identified family in the country. The book covers eleven generations of the family.

From some things, Mr. Kecatan had seen and experienced in his short life on this earthly plane. He told Elizabeth that he had seen many injustices done to people of color because whites claimed a superior place over them. They felt God gave them the right to be lord and master over blacks just because of the color of their skin. Since John was a little lad, he had seen Indians and Africans mistreated in some way or another; by far, the worst to him was seeing acts of hatred perpetrated upon his people. Who couldn’t do anything to defend themselves against white men who had all the power. Miss Elizabeth began to take stock of the men on the estate, noticing the single men, and one caught her eye big time: John Kecatan. He was six feet, with bronze skin, and looked Indian. John had coal black, long, wavy hair, kept braided in two large plaits on either side of his head, dark brown eyes, thick lashes, and full lips. He had a deep baritone voice that rolled over you like water in the desert; weighing about 185lbs., many women desired him. John had such a way with them; everybody knew this, even Rice Jr., and he did not like it.

Kecatan was a field hand and usually worked without a shirt, which drove the ladies wild, like female dogs in heat on a summer day. His chest and abdomen were pure works of art, and he glistened with sweat as he worked in the field from sunup to sundown. Elizabeth would see him as he left the house occasionally, and he shared it with some of the men; four different men's cabins were on the farm.

John would see Elizabeth Lucie staring at him on occasion, and he would laugh out loud, showing his white teeth. Something within Elizabeth would clench, and her breath would catch in her throat. Yes, he was an excellent specimen of manhood, she thought. One that she would not mind having as her man because she saw something magnificent in him, worth her taking a chance with for all the right reasons, of course. Feelings of goodness moved within her concerning Kecatan, and she did not know why. However, there was one thing for sure: Elizabeth wanted that Indian man, and the rest of the world could go straight to hell if they did not like it; Miss Lucie would not lose any sleep.

One day, while coming out of the milk house, where she had just finished her shift, she met John Kecatan, who was coming across the field. His chest shone with beads of sweat that had formed there while John worked in the harsh heat. The same restless tension caused her heart to beat furiously in her chest while creating a sea of happiness that swelled in the core of Elizabeth’s soul. Feelings she had never known before but was glad she felt right then; better late than never, is what Elizabeth thought. The young lady worked up enough nerve to finally speak to him. “Hello John, my name is Elizabeth Lucie. I have seen you on numerous occasions around the estate. So, how are you enjoying the day, beyond work, that is?” “Well, I say that today has been all right, but it’s even better now that I have finally made your acquaintance, pretty lady.” Elizabeth smiled and felt her face grow hot with pleasure. John had just flirted with her, and she felt like a schoolgirl again. From that day on, Elizabeth would see and talk with John at every opportunity they were free to do so, surprisingly including several. One thing that made this possible was John Kecatan had more than one job around the plantation; some might say that John had it made.

Master Hoe Jr. was a practicing Baptist and insisted that his servants attend church on Sundays. The church was a grand brick building sitting in the middle of town for all eyes to see. In the back of the church, they stood during the service, where the more impoverished citizens, the indentured servants, and enslaved people. The congregants didn’t feel the slaves should be there because they did not have souls worth saving. Hell, most white people seemed to think that Heaven was for them only, and hell below was where all enslaved people were going, for they were the devil’s children and made only to serve their white Masters. Of course, that was farthest from the truth; there was not one ounce of the Bible in that mess, just man’s carnal thinking. The service lasted about one hour or so and consisted of songs from the hymn books sung by the citizens of Charles City, with several readings of scripture, old and new, from the designated preacher and some heartfelt prayer.

On these occasions, Elizabeth would see John standing across the room, and her heart would go into triple time; she was a “good Christian woman” starting her life over. She felt guilty for thinking wayward thoughts in God’s house, so she would stop and focus her attention more on the service than on John, even though it was hard to do. That may have been how it was on Sunday while in church, but when Monday came, she would see Kecatan in his work clothes, and all thoughts of piety went out of her head. Hell, at those moments, the only things Elizabeth could think were lascivious thoughts about the man taking her to bed and having his way with her. Ideas that, if the churchwardens knew, would get her into scalding water.

As Elizabeth got to know John better, she let her guard down around him. She found him to be good company and looked forward to spending more and more time with him. Mr. Hoe and his part-time overseer, Obadiah Richland, required their slaves to work from sunup to sundown Monday through Saturday. After sundown, that time belonged to the enslaved people and servants, except for special occasions like a party or holiday feast where some worked.

Elizabeth thought she had gotten to know John well, so when accusations were brought against him, saying he had an adulterous relationship with Mary Mangars, it was hard to believe. Mary, you see, was one of the white planters’ wives, and she was with her child. Then came word that she had given birth to a girl of color; Elizabeth was shocked and completely aghast. To her, this was totally against his character. John told her that everyone had more than one side to them; all she had seen was his good side, but like anyone else, he had another side.

When John Kecatan was little, he heard the story of the first meeting between his mother’s people, the Kikotans, and the English settlers. They came to shore and pretended to want to make peace with the Indian tribes such as the Pamunkey, the Powhatan, the Kikotans, and many others. These Indians had occupied the land forever. With the arrival of the white man, everything changed, and the change was irreversible. The Englishmen began to trade with the Indian's precious land for worthless blue beads because they were supposedly worn by the rich and powerful. Many Indians during these times were taken captive and enslaved. John knew that he was a descendant of two long-standing, proud people from two different continents who succumbed to the illness of slavery, a complex and dark way of life for any person.

Because women knew of John Kecatan’s heritage, some believed tales of black men being well-endowed and fantastic lovers. However, the truth is not all black men are well endowed; the size of any man’s private part has nothing at all to do with him because he did not make himself. Whatever the size of his piece, God made it, and it will do the job. Size does not make a man; he is male because God made him that. Any man can be a great lover if he has the heart to be; then he will fill your life and bed with pleasure beyond measure, regardless of his cock size. However, the thought of such things can warm women’s hearts with intense lustful desires that make their bodies shake. Thinking about that part of the male anatomy drives them wild. John never disclosed the size of his private part beforehand to any female because he didn’t see the need to, but said, “Women thinking such things brought them flocking around him like bees to honey, regardless of their status or race. I feel it’s my job to entertain their lustful desires completely.” Therefore, John did not feel any scruples about any of the things that he had done overall. He was a product of the society in which he lived. Because of the injustices perpetrated on black people, John felt justified in giving what he considered fair retribution.
The word of a white person overpowers and outweighs the testimony of any person of color, most of the time. Even though it may not be the truth if a white person accuses a Negro of something, it is like the gospel, no questions asked. It is a shame, but that is how it is for the most part. These were dangerous times in which John Kecatan lived; it was 1664, and race in Virginia was starting to take on a power of its own. Where the color of a person's skin mattered more than the person, Kecatan couldn’t help that he was born a mixed-race person, and he knew that most people could not see past that. Even as an enslaved person, he demanded respect. John also knew that he had a new problem because he was falling in love with a white woman, and that was dangerous. John accepted what people said about him and gloried in it. His actions showed that even if he was enslaved, he did not accept the status quo. John could not bend to the will of his oppressors. John Kecatan was a strong man of high intellect, shaped by the forces of his world. John had a strength born in the hotbed of oppression and tempered to a hard, sharp edge by the power of his will and determination not just to be another regular face in the nameless crowd of the broken, disheartened, and hopeless peons of his age.

As Elizabeth listened to John, she realized how irresistible he was and how charming he was in a most compelling way, which shook the ground in which Miss Lucie stood. All these things and so much more made Elizabeth like John and yet a little afraid of him simultaneously. However, Elizabeth did not care; she was like a fish hooked to a rod, and John, the Indian Boy, had taken over her; all her thoughts were overtaken by thinking of him. Negro Jack was whom Elizabeth wanted, and Miss Lucie didn’t care what color he was or what name someone called him by; to her, he was everything and then some. John’s charm and intelligent mind won Elizabeth over; she enjoyed every moment with him. On several occasions, John’s charismatic nature caused women to do whatever they desired because Mr. Kecatan had a way with people. John Kecatan was indeed a good-looking man on every level, and with all that beauty, his personality drew people, even some men, to lust to have one night with him if nothing more.

The late Rice Hoe Sr. had a letter of freedom written to John many years ago, stating that if John Kecatan contained himself and obeyed the rules of the plantation, he would be set free after serving eleven more years. Hoe Sr. did not offer such a thing to any other slave, whether excellent or rebellious. For those that were out of order with no hope in sight, he either had them beat into submission or sold off; for a white servant, the terms of their indenture could be sold to someone else. Even though Rice Sr. was a fair man, he did not play.

However, he had a soft heart regarding John and his parents. No one knew the whole story about why other than Master Rice Hoe Sr. and his best friend. Mr. Hoe was delighted to have John and his parents on his estate; even though they were his slaves, deep down in his heart, they were like family. He had desired to free John’s parents, but that day never came because they had died before Hoe Sr. could grant them their freedom. Another thing is that Master Hoe Sr. knew that freeing John’s parents meant they would most likely move far away from his place, and Rice Sr. feared he might never see them again, which he was not ready to accept. So, Rice Sr. kept putting it off, and before he knew anything, they were dead. Hoe Sr. had come to care for that family like no other; he didn’t care what anybody thought about it, including his wife or son.

After Anna and Abdoulie’s death, Master Rice Sr. still could not bring himself to free John earlier because he would miss him too much. Hoe Sr. knew once John got his freedom, he would leave the plantation and never return, so, in his heart, he was going to wait until the letter agreement came to an end to set Jack the Negro free. Death came for Master Rice Hoe Sr. sooner than he thought because one afternoon, while out for a walk, he dropped dead on his wondrous estate.

After John had explained some things, Elizabeth understood things a lot better, and it caused something from her past to resurface that Miss Lucie did not hesitate to share with John. After all, he was now her best friend and confidant; she knew he would understand. Elizabeth told John about being part of the crowd that witnessed the execution of King Charles I. She could remember in minute detail the sights and sounds of that day; hundreds of people had crowded into the square. On January 30, 1649, in London, England, King Charles I stood before the people; Elizabeth saw him converse briefly with the Bishop and the Executioner. The bishop and one of the officials helped him tuck his hair under his cap. Charles had long, gorgeous black hair. Miss Lucie heard him ask if the block could be higher, and the executioner answered no. He placed the cloak back on and said a short prayer for himself. Then, Charles knelt, putting his head on the executioner’s block, and told the man to wait for his signal of readiness, which he agreed to do. The King stated that he tried to do the best for his people because he loved them, and they were his fellow countrymen. That said, the King closed his mouth, composed himself, and stretched out his arms; this was the signal the executioner had waited for, and with one single, clean chop, King Charles I was beheaded.

Elizabeth Lucie did not want to see the final moments but could not look away. She had been horrified and sickened by the public spectacle. Some in the crowd cheered, whereas others cried as Charles' head was displayed. Some even went as far as to gather his blood for relics and souvenirs; this was a defining moment in young Elizabeth’s life. She lost the shield of innocence over her eyes and became an adult that day. She decided at that moment to take her fate into her own hands, no matter what the outcome. A person had one life to live; when it was over, there was nothing anyone could do to change a damn thing.
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