'You're supposed to be out there pickin' cotton. 'Who are you callin boy?' I said, trying to sound authoritative. I stood by the door and said 'Hey you, shouldn't you be working?' He had his shirt off and you could see his strong arms and sweaty chest. He was sitting on some hay chewing a piece of grss.
No one was in there but this big black slave I had never seen before, But he looked oddly familiar. I pulled the big door sideways and walked in. I stepped outside and walked to the barn. But I thought I'd go out to the barn and see what's going on.
I just thought whatever my father told me to. I had never thought much of blacks, nor had I ever talked to one. I glanced to the left and saw the slaves working on the field. I was sitting by the window watching my parents riding in the buggy into town.
