chapter 5, any corrections?

Chapter 5: Christmas

After our sobering escape from Scott and the hounds, I tried my best to conceal and smuggle the rest of the slaves in a Northwestern direction. However, I would accidentally lead them off in incorrect directions sometimes, but then one of the slaves I rescued named Jeremiah aided us with his guide skills which he had learned before he was taken into slavery, when he lived in Africa. He also helped us along with his hunting skills, allowing us to eat a small amount of meat every once in a while. After several near discoveries and a couple of miles off path, we finally made it back to Lexington, after only 34 days.

When the Hopkins’ saw me the next day, they were extremely cross with me, for in my absence, they had lost a significant amount of labor, and some of their crops had failed. As I had somewhat expected, I had a punishment coming; I had to sit in a horrible place called the “coldbox”, which was a wooden box in the middle of the field in which I had to stay for two entire days with neither clothes, nor food. In the cold climate of winter (for it was now winter), I felt like I nearly froze to death; however, this had been expected due to my actions and the consequences that they had. Mr. Hopkins had only given me the punishment reluctantly because he had to in order to make an example of me so as not to incite a slave insurrection, showing his kind, yet strict nature.

It was at this time that Mr. Hopkins told me of the fate that would face me in the coming month: due to financial problems, many of the slaves on the plantation (unfortunately, this included the slaves that I had just brought) would have to be sold on New Year’s Day. The day was quickly approaching and all of the two months of work and smuggling were unraveling.

Christmas came and went, and it was rather uneventful for us slaves, in comparison to the Hopkins’. Of the few of us who were actually Christian, the rest of us could not enjoy any festivities due to the prospect that we would probably be sold soon. This was a stark contrast to the holiday spirit of the Hopkins household, which was full of deliciously smelling cakes and pies, and a warm fire, and most of all, love and peace. It is sad that my people are not often able to celebrate the birth of a man as good-hearted as Jesus Christ. The people of America could learn a thing or two from his actual teachings, instead of blindly listening to racist pastors who filter the message of “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” out of their sermons. After all, what white man would ever even consider what would happen to them if we Negroes treated them with the same hatred, brutality, and contempt as they treat us?

When New Years came, Mr. Hopkins took us to the local slave auction podium, a sleazily made wooden framework with many holes and splinters. We were not the first slaves to go; we watched an entire family separated for a mere 50 dollars, which bought two different men a child of a slave mother. It sickens me to know that my people’s lives are worth so little to white men. It is truly despicable! It was my turn up, the price started at 50 dollars, due to my age and ability to work. Luckily for me, no one wanted to buy me, so I was safe for now, as was my brother, Abraham, and Martha, who acted as a mother toward me throughout this entire experience. We lost nine out of our swelled number of twenty three persons after the influx from the Flint plantation, so my work had not been entirely in vain.