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Annie Palmer and Takoo (A Short Story)

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Takoo entered the bedroom of the Palmyra Estate, which was joined onto the Rose Hall Estate nearby. He knees were weak, and his palms were sweaty. He had heard what happened to the other slaves; how they had bragged and bellowed about being wanted by the Lady for a night of passion and excitement, yet had never returned. They were probably just as scared as he was, and just wanted to hide the fact. After all, only a madman would turn down the chance to sleep with a white woman. Problem is, the white woman in this case was Annie Palmer.

He saw her, reclining in the large, white bed that rested in the centre of the room surrounded by various magnificent pieces of furniture. The polished oak wooden cabinets and dressers were adorned with rich jewels imported from Europe and Asia, and the wardrobe held the finest threads that Takoo had often seen Mrs. Palmer in. On any other day he would have been fantasizing about being able to give his partner clothes like that to wear, just to make her smile. However, this was today. All he could focus on was Annie.

“Come this way, Takoo.”

He gingerly moved towards her, praying to God in heaven that he would be protected. He knew of her alleged history; how she had was born and raised in Haiti, and had learned the arts from the doctors there. He had learned of her moving to Jamaica, and knew that she had been married to four men – all of whom were now deceased. It was said that she had killed them all. Her last husband, John Palmer, had been the owner of the estate that they were now inside of, and this was how she had come into ownership of both Rose Hall and Palmyra.

He slowly got onto the bed, and moved towards her. Wordlessly, they embraced, greeting each other with light kisses. He hoped she wouldn’t sense the hesitation in his approach. He hoped she wouldn’t smell his fear. All he needed to do was please her, and pray to his ancestors that she wouldn’t have him killed like all the others.

He wrapped his arms around her, his black chocolate standing out in sharp contrast to her pale vanilla. Normally, this would be a fantasy of his. He was hardly ever allowed to set foot in a great house, yet here he was being invited to partake in prohibited pleasures. The light from the full moon danced in through the windows and illuminated the unholy scene. He wanted to speak, to ask her what she wanted, to ask her if she was comfortable. No words would come.

She turned to look at him with brown eyes that pierced into his soul. He could feel her roaming into his mind, reading his thoughts. He suddenly started to panic; he had heard too many stories about where this would lead, and in a split second he moved impulsively.

In the morning, word got around. Takoo could not be found, and the lady of the estate was not seen doing her routine morning checks as always. The house slaves had entered the bedroom and found her. The authorities were notified, and word was sent to John Palmer’s grandnephew, John Rose Palmer, to assume the estates. Today, they say she haunts the properties, morose and brooding, seeking to find Takoo to exact her revenge.

Blessings in abundance!


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