How does the conflict contribute to the development of the story?
“Now, before it’s too late,” panted Sarah. “Now, Father!”
“Yes, Daughter, the time is come,” Toby answered. “Go,
as you know how to go!”
He raised his arms, holding them out to her. “Kum . . . yali,
kum buba tambe,” and more magic words, said so quickly,
they sounded like whispers and sighs.
The young woman lifted one foot on the air. Then the
other. She flew clumsily at first, with the child now held
tightly in her arms. Then she felt the magic, the African
mystery. Say she rose just as free as a bird. As light as a feather.
The Overseer rode after her, hollering. Sarah flew over
the fences. She flew over the woods. Tall trees could not
snag her. Nor could the Overseer. She flew like an eagle now,
until she was gone from sight. No one dared speak about it.
Couldn’t believe it. But it was, because they that was there
saw that it was.
Say the next day was dead hot in the fields. A young man slave
fell from the heat. The Driver come and whipped him. Toby
come over and spoke words to the fallen one. The words of
ancient Africa once heard are never remembered completely.
The young man forgot them as soon as he heard them. They
went way inside him. He got up and rolled over on the air. He
rode it awhile. And he flew away.