“I hate that I couldn’t be there,” Abigale said from where she sat at the table, rocking back and forth with Xaxac on her lap, “I shoulda been there. I hate that I couldn’t be there and my baby sick.”

“We just can’t give him no more meat is all that is,” Abe bent at the waist and tried to pry Xac from her hands, but she held firm, “Come on, we gotta get some sleep. The younguns are wore out and you got another eighteen hour shift in the mornin.”

“Twelve parties twelve days in a row,” Abby growled, “Thirteen fires in one day… that man needs to slow down. Some of us have other shit to do.”

“It can’t be helped,” Abe tried again to pry the boy from his mother’s arms, with no success, “Abby, come to bed.”

“I can’t sleep,” She said, “I can’t sleep knowing that baby was that bad off.”

“Well then give me the boy,” Abe tugged again, “He needs to sleep; he was sick as a dog.”

Xac wasn’t actually sleepy anymore. He had taken a pretty good nap when he had had a hot bath and a hot cup of calming tea, and now he feared he would be up all night. He hadn’t seen his mother at all that day, and clung fiercely to her, which made it even more difficult for his father to pry him away, though the strength of a toddler was nothing compared to the strength of a concerned mother.

“He can sleep right here,” Abby told him, “You go to bed, you gotta work tomorrow.”

“Sunup to sundown,” Abe shrugged, “That ain’t eight hours right now in the winter. You got a full day. Give him to me.”

“You keep pullin like that,” Abby warned, “You gonna get a chair to the head. Ima whoop your ass up one side of this house and down the other.”

Xaxac giggled into her breast. He knew it was an empty threat. She would never even make the attempt, and if she tried, he thought Abe was stronger than her and could probably stop her. But he knew she was upset, and in a weird way it made him happy. He missed his mommy. He wanted to go into the big house with her, and didn’t really understand why he couldn’t. He was far too young to understand the hierarchy or have any sort of sense of his position. He was just a child, and he wanted his mommy, especially when he was ill.

“Allie’s asleep,” Abe warned, “Don’t be talkin to me like that, that loud and that hateful, woman. Don’t wake her up. Also, you’re welcome to try it. Might not end how you think it will.”

“You leave that baby alone,” She warned again, and Xaxac finally felt his father’s hands leave his waist.

“He’s fine now, I reckon,” Abe said with a soft smile and hand gently tusseling Xac’s hair, “He’s a trooper, ain’t you boy?”

“I’m a trooper,” Xac repeated, because he liked the way it sounded, like praise, not because he knew what it meant.

“Ain’t nothin can take that boy out. You’re a survivor, ain’t you?”

“I’m a survivor,” Xac said as he snuggled into his mother’s breast.

“Hattie May is a witch,” Alice said, and everyone turned to look at her.

“Thought you was asleep,” Abe said trying to sound more intimidating than he felt.

“Don’t say that kinda stuff about folks,” Abby told her, “That ain’t true, and even if it was it wouldn’t be your business. She’s a nice old woman. Done a lot for us. Don’t be tellin tales about people.”

“She’s not a bad witch,” Alice said, playing with a loose thread on the quilt she was huddled under, “But she is a witch. The whole inside of her house is witchy. She’s got all kind of plants, and when she makes tea she sings, and she has a magic ring that glows when she does it.”

“Ain’t nobody got no magic rings,” Abby said, still rocking and cuddling Xac, “Ain’t no human folk what can work magic. Don’t get to thinking about that kinda thing. Only elves can work magic. If any human folk tried it, it’d end bad for um. Get that outta your head.”

“Hattie May is a witch,” Alice said as if that made it true, “I done seen her work magic. She’s a good witch.”

“Go back to sleep, Ally,” Abe said, “Don’t get nonsense into your head. Ain’t no human witches. Only elves can work magic. We ain’t got no business with it. Ain’t nothin good comes of it.”

“I like Miss Hattie May,” Xac said, “I don’t think she’s a witch. She might be magic, though.”

“Don’t be thinking about that kind of thing,” Abby said and held him with one hand so that she could bend at the waist to pick up her knitting needles.

Xac loved the rhythmic click-click-clicking of the needles. He hadn’t thought he had been sleepy, but as he listened to them, his mother began to sing.

“Little baby bunting,

Daddy’s gone a-hunting

Gone to get a rabbit skin

To wrap a baby bunting in.”

And Xac’s eyelids began to droop.

“Come on, boy,” Abe shook him, and Xac opened his eyes. He had somehow been moved onto the bed from the chair, but the difference didn’t concern him. “Eat your breakfast.”

Xaxac took the Johnny cake his father handed him and gnawed on it.

Xac looked around the house and did not see his mother, but that was expected. She normally had to get to the big house around four in the morning, and it was much closer to sunrise than that. But he was shocked to find that he and Abe were alone. He knew that it was impolite to talk with your mouth full, so he swallowed before he asked, “Where’s Allie?”

“She got called up to the big house, with your mama,” Abe explained as he laid out clothing and knelt by the bed to dress Xaxac, “She’s big enough to cast a shadow, she’s big enough to work.”

“I wanna go to the big house!” Xac said. He hadn’t meant to cry, had absolutely no intention of doing so, but if his mamma was gonna be gone all day, and now Alice would be gone with her, while his father was at work he would be all alone, and even the prospect of that loneliness ate away at him. He couldn’t stand it, and he felt like a fool, like a baby, as the tears welled up in his eyes.

Xaxac didn’t like to be called a baby, but everyone called him that. He could walk, and talk, and sing, and move around perfectly fine on his own. He could eat most foods, and he suspected he could dress himself if his father would let him. He was a big boy, but no one would believe that if he cried for his mommy like a baby.

But he didn’t know how to make it stop. He didn’t know what to do.

“Don’t cry,” Abe told him, “Ain’t no use cryin over things you can’t change. You know you can’t go in there unless you’re called. Don’t be actin a fool this early in the morning, Xac, it’s been a rough night. Daddy don’t need that shit.”

“I’m sorry,” Xac cried.

“Here, put these on,” Abe pulled out each of his son’s feet and pulled long stockings up under his gown. “Honestly, boy, the damage is rough, but you gonna have us beatin the winter. It’s cold as hell out there, startin to snow, and we ain’t got no shoes for you. They don’t give us nothing until you hit ten. I ain’t worried about it though, you’ll make it. You’re strong.”

“It’s soft,” Xac said.

“Your mama made these outta your hair,” Abe smiled, leaned back a little from his squatting position and pulled up the leg of his pants, “Mine too. That’s why she wanted it collected after you shifted. Making something outta nothing is a good skill to have. We get by. Eat quick now.”

He stood, sat Xaxac on his hip, and threw his coat over both of them.

“Where are we going?” Xac asked as he swallowed his late bite and huddled against the cold.

“You’re coming with me today,” Abe said, “You’re about as old as Ally is. If she can work, so can you. We gotta go to the barn. It’ll be warmer once we get in there. Look at me, Xac. I’m gonna tell you this once, and you better listen to me. Don’t mess around with them animals. Don’t bother them. The grooms will take care of them. That’s what happened to Jimmy Ray’s boy. They’ll kick you hard enough to make your head spin.”

“It’s snowing!” Xac said and stuck out his hand in an attempt to catch one of the small, flurrying flakes that fluttered down from the sky.

“Don’t do that,” Abe said, “You ain’t got no mittens or nothing. Your hands get too cold they straight up fall off. Keep um under the coat.”

Xac huffed, but he didn’t want to cause any more trouble, so he did as he was told.

The barn was much warmer, and there were several people gathered inside.

“Alrighty, Xacy-boy,” Abe said as he set him down, “You younguns got a bad job, but it’ll warm you up.”

Xaxac recognized the other children in the group his father had set him down in. They also lived in the slave quarters, the little wooden houses on the plantation, and he and Alice often talked to them if there was something going on, like the communal dinner.

The oldest child there was a girl who looked to be about seven years old, and she seemed to be in charge. She frowned when she saw him, and tugged on Abe’s shirt as he tried to stand.

“Is he ok?” She asked, “Mama got awful worried about him last night. Said we was all gonna get sick, but we didn’t.”

“He’s fine, ain’t ya Xac?” Abe asked.

“I’m a survivor!” Xaxac said proudly.

“What’s that mean?” She asked him.

“It means… that nothing can keep me down!” Xac repeated, “That’s what my daddy says!”

“Well you get at it,” Abe tusseled his hair and stepped away.

“That’s good,” the girl told Xac, and handed him a shovel bigger than he was. “Because this here gets a lot of folk down. We gotta shovel up all the horse dung to spread out on the fields. Keep them fertile for the growing season.”

It took a minute for her words to sink in, and Xaxac looked around the barn, to take in the full scope of the workload that had been placed on his small shoulders. He couldn’t think of anything he would ever want to do less.

But he was a big boy, and he wasn’t going to cry.