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he asked.
    John Avery shrugged. "Don't know. But she and that other one over there are the last of the lot from the
Phillis
"
    "Phillis," John Wheatley said. "Her name is Phillis, then."
    John Avery shrugged.
    "I'd like to see the other one," another man said.
    "You'll find plenty of work in her," John Avery said.
    Then my new master held out his hand. I heard the other man say Tanner. They knew each other. They talked for a while. I heard the man who had said the word Tanner now say the word "Newport."
    I was shivering from fear, though the sun was hot. My lips were parched. My head throbbed. I was hungry and dirty. And I shrank in shame before these well-turned-out men who moved about with such ease and grace in this fearful place called America.
    The men parted with smiles and good words. Then my master called out to someone. And my fear vanished. Out of a fearful thing with wheels pulled by creatures I'd never seen before came a young man with skin the color of mine.
    "Prince, look what I found. She looks starving. Come, carry her into the carriage and we'll get her home."
    "Lawd awmighty," Prince said.
    He looked to be about seventeen. He was garbed in Koomi clothing and he seemed very much at home in this place.
    In a moment Prince scooped me up in his arms. "Lawd awmighty," he said again. "She be light as a feather. But shakin', Mr. Wheatley. This child shakin' like a leaf."
    "Get the blanket," came the reply.
    I was put in the thing with wheels by the one called Prince, who then climbed up on a seat and yelled at the creatures. They started off.
    I sank into the seat in my blanket. I couldn't stop shaking, it seemed. But one good thing: Obour had been sold, too. She would have a home. But where? Then I remembered two words. Tanner. And Newport.
    I kept repeating them over and over in my mind as I fell asleep.

Chapter Seven
    "Jesus loves you, chile. Hold still now, while I make you presentable."
    I didn't know who this Jesus person was that the large woman spoke of as she scrubbed me in a copper tub in a corner of the kitchen. But her skin was like mine. Her language was peppered with some words I could understand. And some I couldn't. So I thought Jesus was the name of Mr. Wheatley.
    He had turned me over to Aunt Cumsee immediately. I heard the words "feed her" and "evening prayers." Did that mean he loved me? I was too spent to care. So I allowed Aunt Cumsee to wash and diy me. Then came the soft cotton garment. It had a fluffy neck. All the while, Aunt Cumsee told me about Jesus. And how he had died for me.
    How could he have brought me home from the slave market if he was dead? I put it down to weariness and drank the warm milk she put in front of me. There was ham, too, and bread. I ate hungrily. If this Jesus could manage all this and live in this big house, it was all right with me. Even if he was dead.

    "How is our little newcomer faring, Aunt Cumsee?"
    The woman who came into the room was buxom and ever so pretty. She wore a gray gown with rose fluff on it She had a round face and her skin was like ivory. Her lips were the color of the fluff, and always ready in a smile. But it was her eyes that held me.
    They were of the bluest blue, and made you think she was just about to tell you something wonderful.
    "She be just about ready, Miz Wheatley."
    Wheatley. This was the wife of Jesus, who loved me!
    "Oh, she's just darling. Poor little thing. We're going to have prayers now. Bring her in."
    "Yessum."
    I was led across the wide hall, past drawings of people that hung on the wall, windows covered with shining cloth, tall doors trimmed in heavy wood. There was another high arrangement of wood that curved upward. Where did it go? Surely these people were gods.
    "Come along, chile." Aunt Cumsee tugged my hand. "You must look sharp and learn some manners."
    "Well, what a difference! Bring her in!" Mr. Wheatley, or Jesus, stood up and held out his hands as I walked across the soft floor. I looked down.
It had flowers