“Leave ’em be.” Lucy spoke crossly. “Reckon Caroline can do something.”
So Amelia was out front and saw Fred marching up the road! Funny, but that’s exactly the way it seemed. He wasn’t just walking. She was digging around her dahlias, hoping against hope they would show a little life. She had brought the bulbs from home and set them out in front of the house. Of course they weren’t growing, but Amelia kept at them. Sometimes dahlias surprised you.
She straightened up and stared. It was Fred, all right, raising a dust out there in the road.
Mr. and Mrs. Covey were coming down the porch steps just as Fred swung in the gate. He kept right on coming. Poor Lucy’s mouth sagged open, but Mr. Covey smiled like a saint.
“Well, now, you’re back, and no worse for wear.” He paused, taking in the discolored bandage and the spattered tatters. He spoke impatiently. “Get yourself cleaned up. This is Sunday.” The boy stepped aside. Mr. Covey and his wife moved toward their buggy. As Fred turned to go around back, Mr. Covey called to him. “Oh, yes, round up those pigs that got into the lower lot last night. That’s a good boy.”
Then the master leaned over, waved his hand at Amelia and drove away, sitting beside his good wife. It made a pretty picture! Amelia could see Fred, standing at the side of the house, facing the road. There was a funny look on his face.
Amelia’s thoughts kept going back to the way he’d come marching up the road. Her mind kept weaving all sorts of queer fancies. Did slaves really think like people? Covey had beaten him half to death. How could he walk so? Just showed what a thick skin they had. And that great head of his! She hadn’t noticed how big it was till this morning.
Covey’s manner didn’t fool her a mite. He never flogged slaves on Sunday, but he’d sure take it out of that boy in the morning.
She woke up Monday morning thinking about the look on Fred’s face and hurried downstairs. Seemed like Mr. Covey cut the prayers short. Maybe he had something on his mind, too. As they started out, Amelia heard him tell Fred to clean out the barn. That meant he wouldn’t be going to the fields with the others. Covey lingered a few minutes in the house, tightening the handle on his lash.
Amelia had always tried to get away from the awful floggings. Lucy said she was chicken-hearted. But this morning she was filled with an odd excitement. She wanted to see. She decided against going out in the yard. With a quick look at Lucy’s bent back, she slipped out of the kitchen and almost ran up the stairs. Her attic window overlooked the yard.