Wiley glared at me and then slapped me on my back like a chum. “Hey, work good and I treat you good. Right, Easter?” “Dat sho is raght, Massa Wiley,” Easter said. “I’m gonna git me some breakfast,” Wiley said. As he walked away, he said to the air, “That’s the easiest slave I ever got.” I looked at Easter. “He’s right. If he didn’t own slaves I’d like to think that old Wiley was a decent fellow.” “If,” I said.
