A Covetous Connection by Esther Zhang

Losing Selena
Lost. Afraid. Scared. These words describe the beginning of my life as an enslaved person in
the United States.

I am Paul, a slave who works for the Henderson family in a small town in North Carolina. Mr.
Henderson is a formidable man, forceful and with little compassion. Mrs. Henderson is a lovely
lady who enjoys wearing dresses and always puts on a hairband no matter what she wears.

Selena Henderson is a considerate person, and she would often bring cookies and snacks to
me when I was hungry. She is also an obliging young woman who respects her parents
immensely. And, of course, my least favorite person in the family, Leenia Henderson. Leenia is a
vulgar, spoiled young lady who refuses to do anything to the point where she could be known as
the laziest person on earth.

I live in a little hut near the Henderson family mansion; the space inside is compact and tidy. The
air smells heavy with humidity, making the place smell unclean. The only living thing in my
house is a rat and my broken heart. Once, I had a complete family – a lovely daughter and a
beautiful wife.

Everything changed on September 19th of 1845. There was a slave auction that
day, and one of the owners bought my daughter and wife. We were separated, never to be
united again, and I miss them greatly every day. I could never stop thinking about them. They
were the core of my life, and without them, my heart could never be filled with love.

I heard many rumors that my family did not survive the harsh conditions they faced and had gotten sick
and may have even died. But, I pray to God every day, hoping He could look after my family and
ensure their safety.

Every day I worked in the cotton fields, trying to pick as much cotton as I could for fear that I
would be brutally beaten if I did not collect enough. Every day I live in fear and terror. I wish I
was fully educated in school, but instead, I dropped out at the young age of 14. I was
considered a naughty and obnoxious boy because of the color of my skin, and no one liked me,
at least from what I’ve heard.

Every night I would sit next to the window and gaze outside, wondering whether my entire life
would be like this. Everyone has a purpose in life, but what is the purpose of mine?

One gloomy and chilly evening, when I had just finished my daily labors, I began walking toward
my little hut, hoping not to be disturbed by anyone and take some time to relax. Suddenly,
Selena walked out of the kitchen door. As soon as she opened the door, an aroma wafted out
from the kitchen counter; it was turkey!

What was the name of the celebration again, Thanksgiving? I hardly remember any holidays
that Americans celebrate, but I heard of the word Thanksgiving from a book I’ve read. Selena
beckoned me over and whispered in my ear; she told me that I could have a piece of turkey
before I went back to my little hut. I quickly grabbed a piece from the tray she held in front of
me. I was ecstatic and thankful that a person actually cared about me and was nice enough to
offer me a delicious turkey leg.

Selena is a well-educated woman. Even though her family is extremely rich and she could’ve
just married a rich man, she instead focuses on her own career, promoting women’s rights and
gender equality. I admire intelligent women like Selena; she is not flamboyant. She is just the
opposite!

As days went on, a peculiar feeling between Selena and I grew. I began to notice her more, and
sometimes I would even try to finish my cotton-picking work earlier just to talk to her or even
look at her. Sadly, she is always in Mr. Henderson’s house and rarely comes out.

I was not allowed inside the family’s house, so I could only talk to Selena when she came out of the house
or in the backyard. I feel like Selena is the only person who completely understands me, to
whom I can talk to freely, without feeling restrained by anything. I treasure every moment that I
spend with her.

Every day after work, I would talk to Selena in the backyard of Mr. Henderson’s house, and this
became our secret. I know what the consequences would be if Mr. Henderson found out. I might
never see Selena again. There are a couple of instances where Mr. Henderson almost saw us,
but luckily I ducked away. As days gradually went on, I would think of Selena more and more.

Whenever or wherever I was, I would picture Selena in my surroundings. On a sweltering day,
when I was out with the others, picking cotton, I would picture Selena picking the cotton with
me. I would pick flowers for Selena and covertly leave them in her room, or hand them to her
when I encountered her. I would give Selena different gifts every day, and as time went on, she
also occasionally gave me back some handmade presents.

For a long time Selena and I consistently met, no matter the weather, no matter the time.
However, recently she stopped meeting me every day. She told me she had some “plans”’ to
make. Even though I totally trusted her, a subtle suspicion occurred to me. For the next week,
she did not see me. When I showed up at our usual meeting spot at the normal time, she was
not there. I had an ominous feeling about the “disappearance” of Selena.

The next two weeks went on slowly, and the days became longer and longer. Selena didn’t try to
talk to me during these dreary weeks; she in fact spent most of her time in her bedroom. I could
feel an imaginary wall beginning to form between us, a barrier towards reaching one another. As
the days go on, I feel more and more distant from her. Maybe she isn’t the Selena I used to
know.

One Thursday, when I was working in the cotton fields, I overheard another slave talking to an
older woman, also a slave. They tried to keep their tone low, but I could hear faintly what their
conversation was about. They were talking about Selena! The older woman was saying Selena
was hypnotized by a wealthy duke, who had been introduced to her by her father.

“He is the perfect man for the landlord’s daughter,’’ one of the women said. “Not only is he
extremely smart in his studies, he is also a caring and benevolent man”.

“I saw them working together before, in Mr. Henderson’s house. They are the most impeccable
couple I have ever met”, the other enslaved person replied calmly.

I was furious at Selena’s actions, how could she betray me! After all I have done for her! I
remained calm on the outside, but I was furious on the inside. My stomach was full with raging
fire. I felt like a time bomb, about to explode. I need to find Selena, no matter what. I need to
hear her explanation.

Absent-mindedly, I continued picking the cotton. After finishing, I rushed back to the Henderson
house. I was not allowed in the house at any time except for the day that I was in charge of
cleaning the mansion, a duty I was just recently given. Luckily, that day is today. I practically ran
into the house and quickly grabbed the broomstick.

While sweeping, I kept an eye on Selena’s room. She was apparently home, since her lamp was lit,
and I could see through the keyhole of her door. Her room is located on the second floor of the house.
After cleaning the first floor, I climbed up the stairs carefully, and overheard laughter coming from
Selena’s bedroom. I slowly placed my ear onto the door, and listened attentively to the conversation.
It was Selena and an unknown man, possibly the rich duke that the two workers had discussed out
in the field.

“Robert, how does the sweater look? I added a few more colors”. The voice from behind the
door resembled Selena’s.

“Absolutely amazing! I am so proud of you!” the man replied.

Everything suddenly became clear to me. Selena was hiding from me. She downplayed the
affection I feel for her. I was so disappointed, not only in Selena’s decisions but also in myself.

Why am I always the hapless one?

I wish that I was more wealthy, intelligent, and humorous. These are all words that do not fit me.
I was just the opposite. I am slovenly dressed and not the smartest person around. Dejected, I
do not see the point of living here anymore. I’ve contemplated running away and reuniting with
my wife and daughter. I’ve had this thought for a long time, ever since I arrived here, but I was
too intimidated to implement this plan. Now I have the chance. Selena’s parents were away
with her sister.

I packed what few possessions I had into a worn-out cloth tied to a stick and in the middle of the
night, set out from this atrocious place. I left a letter to my friend, in case he would miss me. I left
my hut and strolled down the quiet road. It started raining heavily, as the droplets splashed on
the ground. It was as if the sky was releasing its burden. I sighed and continued walking, turning
back to look at the place for the last time.

Finding Paul

I am Selena, the daughter of Thomas Henderson, my family owns a large mansion and a
thousand acres of land. My life looks just perfect to people. But I am not happy. It has been a
long time since I’ve had a person who actually understands me, not because of my appearance
and family background, but because of who I am inside.

His name is Paul. He was a slave who worked for our family until 5 years ago. Paul is responsible,
and a praiseworthy man, unlike those superficial wealthy people that we know. He is the most
authentic person of anyone I’ve ever known. Even though he was not smart, nor wealthy, he can
give me happiness, and I feel extremely blessed to know him.

I’ve been looking for Paul since the night that I discovered he was gone. That night, I was
planning to give him a present that Robert and I made for him. It was a hand-sewn sweater. We
worked on it secretly for almost two weeks, and I instructed everyone not to tell Paul. I made this
sweater for him to show my appreciation for his dedicated efforts. Without him, our entire family
would fall apart. I never got the chance to give it to him.

Through these years, I’ve blamed myself for Paul’s leaving. If I had been kinder to him, If I had
talked to him in the two weeks when we were making the sweater, everything would have been
different. But at the time, I didn’t want to risk somehow giving up the surprise I had for him.

I have been traveling to different places, and asking a lot of people for Paul, whether they have
ever heard of him or seen him in these past few years. There have been some rumors that Paul
had become despondent from the trauma he experienced. After searching for years, I finally
found a woman who had seen Paul.

“So you’re the one. I’ve been waiting for you,’’ she said. “Paul… Paul died two years ago… He
was infected with malaria, and it was too late when we called the doctor… I’m so sorry”. A tear
rolled down her face. More followed, and soon she was sobbing uncontrollably..

“Paul left you a letter, he told me to give it to you.” The woman reached into her pocket and
pulled out an envelope. A red heart stamp was in the center.

Dear Selena,

I could never find the words to describe how much I love you. I enjoyed our short time
spent together. You are the most considerate person that I’ve ever met. I miss you greatly.
I’m sorry I could not accompany you on the rest of your journey, but wherever you are,
always remember that I’ll be there for you in spirit, no matter what. I hope you are happy in
your marriage with Robert.

Love,
Your friend Paul