Swan Valley

1629

As the trail of freed slaves and Dutchmen cut out the course of the way in Zwannendael Colony in Delaware, a carriage ambled. Lono, black as space without stars, sat still in his carriage as the horses trotted. He would soon be known as Christopher Stephenson. For now, he was Lono.

“I think it will be a glory of glories to have this tract of land,” he pointed out.

“Our people at least work. These red men just turn to stone once the idea of them laboring is put out there,” his driver Eddie said. Eddie possessed the same skin color as Lono.

The passenger smoothed out his shirt and straightened his trousers. The coolness in the air prompted both men to realize winter would soon arrive.

“I just don’t trust them. I am wary of allowing myself to be content in the idea of trading with them. They’re savages. If the white man had not brought a touch of civilization, they wouldn’t even know what it means to be human. Now that we negroes are here, it’s fitting that we break up their tribes and treat them like individuals.”

Lono added, “I think we’re better off with doing away with the idea of tribes, too. The individual is sovereign. He or she makes decisions in his or her own minds without a committee.”

Eddie turned back to face Lono as if to say, “No shit. You’re right.”

The two men traveled down the road like two navigators exploring the sea. The wood on the carriage looked freshly polished and welcomed the dust that clung to the paneling. In congruence, the wheels turned.

“I just know that no negroes have risen up against the white man in these parts. I can’t say for all of the Americas but Swan Valley is rich with tales of negroes and white men getting along. We’re just docile folks. I’m waiting for us all to be free. We’re building this country.”

Lono corrected. “I’m not building it. And I’ll be damned if I am called docile. I’m making my own life. I’m stretching out in these parts among the red men and women. I think I can make a decent coin and mind my own business.”

“They’re traitorous. You give them a gourd today and they’ll turn around with a blade to your scalp tomorrow. I’m telling you, we’ve got a real problem on our hands.”

Lono chuckled. “Our hands? No, the white man’s got the problem all to himself. He wanted to come over here and enjoy the party and drag the black man and woman, they’ve got to shed some of their spirit and blood on this land as well.”

Lono remained firm as Eddie kept the carriage rolling. Lono, before he had been freed, took to book learning and possessed enough sense to make another former slave like Eddie to steer his carriage. He even taught him how to read and write. Lono looked out over the vastness and the greenery. Squirrels, snails, and raccoons, beavers, groundhogs, and hedgehogs and snakes all slithered and slimed, ran and climbed alongside the vehicle.

“I just want everyone to be able to see this place, the Americas, whatever as the destination for minds,” Eddie mentioned.

Lono concurred with a nod. “Yes, the mind is the unit which separates us from the primitive beast.”

“The red man?” Eddie chuckled grimly. “I mean we trade the harvest of pumpkins and squash with them. For a bearskin and some embroidery or some stones arranged as a necklace, we can get huge swaths of land. Not too bright, the red man.”

Lono argued. “Well, they certainly have a bit of wisdom about them. They’ve been here for centuries. They know land, air, and sea. They can hunt and reason like any other people. It’s a mistake to say they don’t have intelligence.”

“Forgive me, sir,” Eddie remarked.

“All is well,” Lono replied. “If we can just get to the point where we don’t even know color but thought and action…thought and action are all we have as humans, nevermind the hue of your skin.”

“Ah, but the white man has achieved more, would you say?”

“Only by default. Men with our skin color have attained great wealth on the face of Africa. The negro has sold himself into slavery, really. He’s relinquished virtually everything. Once the white man had cleared parts of the forest to build slave ships, those people of our color soon realized they could find more money in the trade of human bodies and minds with the white man. Some saw opportunity and indulged in the transaction. Still, few fought. I admire those that did,” Lono detailed.

The carriage moved steadily through the day with the sun providing comfort and light for the two gentlemen.