Emancipation 2

Tom couldn't comprehend what was happening to him, but he was conscious. He was conscious of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Was he imaging all this, or was it real? Was he stuck somewhere in the past with these slaves brought over from Africa to work the sugar plantations of the British imperialists? He began to cast his mind back over his own history, remembering the civil rights movement in America he realised he had entered the history of the African people who had been stolen from their own homes and families, shipped to countries far away to work for the white man. The same African slaves had ended up in America and forced to work on cotton plantations similar to the sugar plantation he was experiencing. The civil rights movement with it's history of defying the white man's system just to forge freedom for themselves. Defying school systems, bus regulations, everything they could defy without violence. Martin Luther King and his historic speech, the Alabama riots, the Ku Klux Klan, vilification and heroism.
Tom had became part of the historic journey of the abducted African people, simple people working the land, tending their cattle. They grew up married, and had children. Just ordinary people aware of tides and times, birth, death, courtship, marriage, all the norms of humanity was theirs. Until they were captured, often by Arabs who sold them to White men where their lives changed for ever. But in America hadn't it been different? When Parliament in Britain outlawed slavery, hadn't it been different? Tom's mind raced.
'This is your journey.' The quiet voice spoke to Tom.
Tom opened his eyes. He was laying in his own bed in familiar surroundings. looking at his skin he found he was white as he always had been.
'I gave you the word emancipation to show you the journey you are on. When Adam failed I knew the journey you would undertake. A journey that you don't understand, and a journey that is often painful for you. But what you didn't realise is that I had already taken care of all the necessities. You have been emancipated. Your freedom is assured in Jesus and you are with Me in Him continuously. What you don't understand is while living in a world of chaos, evil, and negativity; you are complete in Me. As the African slaves had to undertake a journey to freedom so my children have to undertake a journey of liberation with Me.
Don't worry Tom, I'll make sure you get it.

Emancipation

Tom looked at his hands, then his arms, and the rest of his body. He was black. No not dirty, black skinned. He found himself in a shed, it was hot, cripplingly hot. Not only that he saw that he was not alone. As he moved upright he found himself shackled to a man by leg irons, and chains.There were other men in the shed as well, twenty, or maybe thirty Tom estimated. Fear began to invade Tom's soul as he sought to comprehend what was going on. With that the door of the shed was flung open  and a terrifying voiced ordered them outside. Stumbling, hobbling along, with his companion Tom found himself being marched along with the other men, who Tom assumed were Negroes. After a short while under a blazing sun Tom found himself in what he could only think was a sugar plantation as he remembered seeing them on holiday in Barbados. A big black man glistening with sweat un locked the irons that bound him to the young man at his side and a machete was pushed into his hand.
'Work.' Barked the big man.
Tom opened his mouth to protest but before the words were formed in his parched lips the man brought a cane down on the side of his head with such force that Tom was knocked to the ground.
'Work.' Again the order came.
Reeling with pain Tom began hacking at the sugar cane. Observing what his companion was doing Tom tried to copy his actions. The sun rose, the heat was unbearable and hour after relentless hour the work continue.
Out of the corner of his eye Tom saw a figure of a white man on a horse talking to the big black overseer.
'That must be the plantation owner.' Tom thought as he numbly hacked away at the hard cane in front of him. How long he was going to last at this Tom did not know, or what really was going on.
'Stop'. Ordered the big man.
All the workers slumped down where they stood and a boy began to pass between them with water and a small ladle. Two mouthfuls were all that Tom was allowed, then it was back to work.
The sun was going down as the weary slaves made their way back to the shed from where they had emerged all those hours ago. Tom was exhausted, his hands were a mass of blood where blisters had formed and broken on his hands after handling the machete all day. Feeling very discouraged and desolate, he waited in line with the other men. A plate was thrust into his raw hands containing what passed as food, it looked hideous to Tom. If he hadn't been so ravenous he would have thrown it on the floor, but eat it he did as he knew that without the scraps he wouldn't last very long. Then the men were pushed into the shed, and the door was locked behind them.
Tom laid on the earth and began to cry. He didn't understand any of this and he felt so alone as sobs racked his body. Then he began to hear soft singing from the men. It was almost heavenly as they harmonised together. As they sang Tom could only think they were Negro spiritual songs and that somehow he had entered a slave population maybe in the Caribbean some centuries earlier. With that he heard a whisper in his ear.
'One day son this will be a memory. Maybe not in my lifetime or yours, but we will be free.'
Tom turned to see the face of an elderly man bathed in sweat, his white teeth shining in the dark as he smiled at Tom.
'We will be free. One day we will be free.'