Little Black Girl Lost 4 by Keith Lee Johnson Read Free Book Online

enter a world where your life has little to no value. As a matter of fact, from now on, your life is in the hands of your owner. For the time being, that’s me. Telling you that fact is not going to make you understand it, so Mr. Whitaker is going to make what I just said very clear.” He paused briefly. “Tell the prince what I just said.”
    Ibo didn’t move, didn’t utter a sound; didn’t even bat an eye. She just stared at Rutgers defiantly, like she was still in Nigeria, still on her father’s farm, still safe from all things dangerous and all things that offend.
    â€œMr. Whitaker,” Rutgers began, “you may commence.”
    Whitaker said, “Ya hear that, nigger? Ol’ Cap’em here just gimme the okay to peel the skin off’n you.”
    Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!

Chapter 13
    â€œMr. Whitaker, toss the girl over the side. ”
    A loud gasp filled the air when the whip connected to bare black flesh and pulled away several layers of skin, immediately followed by a bloodcurdling scream emitted by the man being whipped. It startled them when they heard the power of it. The scream was almost synchronous with the sound that crackled in the ears of terrified onlookers. Blood splashed across the children’s faces that stood closest to the slave being lashed. It was important that the children more than the adults see the savagery, as it would forever alter their desire to defy their owners.
    Sweat dripped from Mr. Whitaker’s forehead as he delivered lash after merciless lash, enjoying every bit of the punishment he doled out. He saw nothing wrong with what he was doing. This was justice; justice for his lifelong friend, Charlie. The black savages were animals and could be treated as such without remorse. Only a weak man felt sorry for the animal he killed. It was a matter of survival; survival of the fittest.
    Although he enjoyed lashing the slave who had nothing to do with his friend’s death, he was tiring. Nevertheless, his anger gave him the strength to continue for more than an hour.
    Rutgers noticed that the slave’s legs were no longer holding him up and he no longer cried out. “Enough!” he commanded.
    â€œAh, just a few more, Cap’em,” Mr. Whitaker pleaded. “It’s only right that these darkies see that they can’t kill a white man and get away with it.”
    â€œI said enough!” Rutgers shouted. “He’s lost consciousness.”
    Mr. Whitaker walked over to the man and kicked him. “Wake up, nigger!”
    The man didn’t move.
    Mr. Whitaker kneeled down and checked him closer and then stood up and looked at Rutgers. “He’s dead. And it serves him right. Charlie’s dead; now he’s dead. That makes us almost even. A few more niggers gotta die to even the score. Otherwise, it would appear that one of their lives is the same as ours. The good Lord up above wouldn’t like it if we took life for life with these darkies. He just wouldn’t stand for it.”
    Rutgers looked at Ibo and said, “Explain it to the prince.”
    Ibo looked at Amir. He was still standing tall, unmoved by what he had seen, knowing that his strength, his indomitable spirit was being transferred to her vicariously. He quickly assessed the situation. Even though he did not understand the language the Dutchmen spoke, his eyes told him everything he needed to know. This was a chess match of epic proportions, and the lives of everyone on the ship, including the Dutchmen, hung in the balance. The captain was trying to use his love for Ibo to break his will to survive. If he allowed himself to be broken, they would all be broken. He, therefore, knew he had to model the role he wanted her to play.
    Even though seeing a man beaten into submission and then beaten to death rocked her to the core of her existence, she shook her head, refusing to cooperate. If Amir could take it, so could she—at least