God Sends Sunday

Chapter One As a child, on the Red River plantation where he was born, Little Augie was not required to chop cotton or work in the rice swamp like the other boys of his age. He was considered too frail for hard labor. Instead it became his duty to mind the cows when they grazed in the clover fields and to lead the horses to the watering-place.Augie lived with his grown sister, Leah, in the same quarters in which he had been born shortly after the 'Mancipation and in which his old dead mammy had been a slave. He was a thin, undersized boy, smaller for his years than any other child on the place, and he had round pop-eyes. But he enjoyed a certain prestige among the black youngsters, and older folks as well, because of the legend that he was lucky, a legend that had attended him since birth, due to a mysterious veil with which he had entered the world.Set apart from his mates by these circumstances, Little Augie soon grew to be miserable. In his heart he felt inferior to the strong, healthy children who worked alongside the grown-ups in the fields. He became timid in the presence of unfamiliar people and fell into the habit of stuttering when he tried to talk.Sometimes, to amuse himself, Augie would follow the men out to plow the fields and then ride the horses home for them in the evening. It pleased him to sit on the back of the old lead mare and watch the other animals string along behind. It made him feel good to be directing the procession, shouting at the tired critters and giving the orders to start and stop. So, as he grew older, Augie spent more and more time with the animals. He became a competent rider. Curiously, he did not feel timid when he was riding or managing a fine horse; he felt big. And he loved horses for that reason.Augie had also one other diversion. He liked to watch the river boats that came puffing around the bend and past the plantation now and again. Especially was he fascinated by the P. T. Blain that came on alternate Wednesdays, because it was the one that stopped at the tiny wooden landing in sight of the quarters. Augie had never been on hand to see it dock, but he had often watched it from the big barn gate where, sitting on the top-piece, he could see everything plainly -- the rousters loading and unloading barrels, the old white captain with the mutton-chop whiskers, and the black loafers standing along the plank in the sunshine.One spring morning, however, his chance came. A young heifer that Augie was about to stake in the clover field suddenly kicked up her heels and started down toward the river, the chain and stake dangling behind. Augie had to follow her till she became tired of running before he could get his hands on the chain, and when he did he realized that he was a long way from home. Returning, he saw a crowd of folks at the landing, and his heart leapt. It had not occurred to him that the day was the second Wednesday, but there was the P. T. Blain splashing and booming against the piles.Augie climbed a stack of boxes and sat with the heifer's chain across his arm. He was speechless with pleasure. Wouldn't he like to ride in a boat like that! Folks said it went to New Orleans, but that was not important. He could not imagine such a boat going anywhere that was not infinitely desirable.The rousters worked rapidly. A loud-mouthed crew, they drew the attention of several oily-faced young women who stood by, giggling. It was a sight to watch those half-clothed men at their work; ascending and descending the plank, their movements suggested cats. The fine elastic muscles slipped loosely under their skin and their moist bronze shoulders glowed like metal. When they were finished they promptly went aboard and withdrew the plank.The captain looked down at Augie and the heifer from the little upper deck. The P. T. Blain was about to push off. Augie called to him:"High there, Mistah Steamboat Man!""He-o,Bontemps, Arna is the author of 'God Sends Sunday', published 2005 under ISBN 9780743268912 and ISBN 0743268911.