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“Spend what you must,” she said with a smile. “no more than that.”So I rode on into the city using my well-forged passes and hitched my horse and light rig behind the shed where the slaves were held. The sale began right at noon with field hands from some of the surrounding farms and then came the house servants being sold by people who were leaving New York for greener and safer pastures.When a small woman wearing a head bandanna, announced as an experienced cook and house keeper, mounted the box, I looked her over. She seemed tidy, mature and confident to me so I doubled the first bid and got her for twelve pounds, hard money. She told me her name was Jess, and I asked if she was hungry. She nodded and I got her a meat pie while the auction ran down to children and old men.“Now, gather ‘round,” the sweating auctioneer cried, getting the attention of those of us who had no place better to be, “here’s a surprise for y’all, a bond servant. We don’ get many of them no more. My boys. We decided earlier to forgo the theater so that we could spend more time alone with each other. You left the arrangements up to me. So far I wasn’t doing too bad, ‘for an old fart’ you say with a grin. We walk outside and the normally ‘windy city’ is quite calm. It seems there was a thundershower while we were having our dinner, (somehow even sitting next to a window I missed it, you are that hypnotizing tonight) The air is cool and clean to the smell. A pleasant relief from the mid-summer heat of the day. You ask where we are bound and I point to our ride in the park. Your face alights when you see the white carriage and horse waiting to e****t us around Lincoln Park on Chicago’s famous Lakeshore Drive. The coachman helps you into the carriage and we nestle together on the soft velvet cushions of our classic transportation. You comment on the feel of the velvet. Something about velvet, silk and no panties. We pass through the heavily treed park, the antique streetlights reflect off.
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