Kindred by Octavia Butler Read Free Book Online

planks, and a bench made from a section of split log. I sat down on the bench. “Does Tom Weylin own your husband?” I asked.
    She nodded sadly. “You saw?”
    “Yes.”
    “He shouldn’t have come. I told him not to.”
    “Did he really have a pass?”
    She gave a bitter laugh. “No. He won’t get one either. Not to come see me. Mister Tom said for him to choose a new wife there on the plantation. That way, Mister Tom’ll own all his children.”
    I looked at Alice. The woman followed my gaze. “He’ll never own a child of mine,” she said flatly.
    I wondered. They seemed so vulnerable here. I doubted that this was their first visit from the patrol, or their last. In a place like this, how could the woman be sure of anything. And then there was history. Rufus and Alice would get together somehow.
    “Where are you from?” asked the woman suddenly. “The way you talk, you not from ’round here.”
    The new subject caught me by surprise and I almost said Los Angeles. “New York,” I lied quietly. In 1815, California was nothing more than a distant Spanish colony—a colony this woman had probably never heard of.
    “That’s a long way off,” said the woman.
    “My husband is there.” Where had that lie come from? And I had said it with all the longing I felt for Kevin who was now too far away for me to reach through any effort of my own.
    The woman came over and stood staring down at me. She looked tall and straight and grim and years older.
    “They carried you off?” she asked.
    “Yes.” Maybe in a way I had been kidnapped.
    “You sure they didn’t get him too?”
    “Just me. I’m sure.”
    “And now you’re going back.”
    “Yes!” fiercely, hopefully. “Yes!” Lie and truth had merged.
    There was silence. The woman looked at her daughter, then back at me. “You stay here until tomorrow night,” she said. “Then there’s another place you can head for. They’ll let you have some food and … oh!” She looked contrite. “You must be hungry now. I’ll get you some—”
    “No, I’m not hungry. Just tired.”
    “Get into bed then. Alice, you too. There’s room for all of us there … now.” She went to the child and began brushing off some of the dirt Alice had brought in from outside. I saw her close her eyes for a moment, then glance at the door. “Dana … you said your name was Dana?”
    “Yes.”
    “I forgot the blanket,” she said. “I left it outside when … I left it outside.”
    “I’ll get it,” I said. I went to the door and looked outside. The blanket lay where the patroller had thrown it—on the ground not far from the house. I went over to pick it up, but just as I reached it, someone grabbed me and swung me around. Suddenly, I was facing a young white man, broad-faced, dark-haired, stocky, and about half-a-foot taller than I was.
    “What in hell …?” he sputtered. “You … you’re not the one.” He peered at me as though he wasn’t sure. Apparently, I looked enough like Alice’s mother to confuse him—briefly. “Who are you?” he demanded. “What are you doing here?”
    What to do? He held me easily, barely noticing my efforts to pull away. “I live here,” I lied. “What are you doing here?” I thought he’d be more likely to believe me if I sounded indignant.
    Instead, he slapped me stunningly with one hand while he held me with the other. He spoke very softly. “You got no manners, nigger, I’ll teach you some!”
    I said nothing. My ears still rang from his blow, but I heard him say, “You could be her sister, her twin sister, almost.”
    That seemed to be a good thing for him to think, so I kept silent. Silence seemed safest anyway.
    “Her sister dressed up like a boy!” He began to smile. “Her runaway sister. I wonder what you’re worth.”
    I panicked. Having him catch and hold me was bad enough. Now he meant to turn me in as a runaway … I dug the nails of my free hand into his arm and tore the flesh from elbow to