The Journey of Little Charlie

by Christopher Paul Curtis

  For the first time since we’d caught her on the street, the woman started ’pearing to be worried and saggish.

  “If it wasn’t for the fact that you done so good and made two breeding wenches for Mr. Tanner, I’d take you out back of this jail and cut your throat right here right now. But the boss man gonna be good and happy for them gifts. Who knows; you looks rough, but maybe you ain’t too old to make him some more breeders.”

  She kept her tongue tight in her mouth.

  The cap’n put his hand behind his ear and said, “What? Speak up, Lou, I caint hear you.

  “That’s what I thought. The time for your sassiness is past, Lou; y’all’s all Mr. Tanner’s property and justice done woke up.”

  The cap’n tolt the Dee-troit sheriff, “We’s got reason to believe the young boy done took off to Canada. What can y’all tell me’s involved in running him down up there?”

  The sheriff give a long whistle and said, “Sir, I wish y’all every possible bit of luck in getting him back; you sure gonna need it.”

  “What you mean?”

  “You gonna be fishing in a complete different pond once you go ’crost that river. Why, some of them white people ’crost there’s downright hostile to letting even one darky come back.

  “And the runaways theyselves? Well, jus’ you wait and see. I’ve had folk from down home tell me there ain’t no words to describe what happen to them darkies once they get the notion that they’s free.

  “I’d advise ’gainst going there, fellas; y’all’ll be a couple of fish out of water. You heard that ol’ joke, what do you call a Yankee in the middle of a South Carol-liney swamp?”

  “What?”

  “Gator food.”

  The cap’n didn’t laugh.

  The sheriff said, “You’ll be jus’ as outta place and jus’ as lost in Canada.”

  The cap’n said, “I ’preciates what you saying, but my rep-a-tation’s at stake here, and I ain’t leaving till I seent for myself it’s impossible to get this boy.”

  The sheriff said, “Well, gennel-men, one thing you gonna have to do if y’all insist on going through with this is … and I ain’t meaning to be indelicate, but y’all gonna have to do some … uh … sprucing up of yourselfs.”

  I couldn’t believe the cap’n had the gumption to set there looking like he didn’t have no idea what the man was trying to say.

  “What you mean?”

  The sheriff said, “Well, sir, I knows y’all been on the trail for a long time and ain’t had the ’vantage of bathing. All I’m saying is, if you was to go over into Canada looking as you do at the moment, you might as well tie two signs ’round yourselfs. The one up front should say, ‘Slave-Catching A-mur-icans,’ and the one on your back don’t need no words at all; jus’ paint a bull’s-eye there.

  “Even if you was to take off that slave-catcher badge, them Canadians would have you pegged ten seconds after y’all got off the ferry.”

  The cap’n was starting to catch on to what the man was saying, and wasn’t finding it too pleasant. He jus’ stared.

  “And I’m ’suming y’all came up here flush with cash, true?”

  The cap’n said, “The only reason I’m listening to you is you’s from back home and been kind ’nough to holt on to them runaways for me. But this is getting a little more into my business than I’m comf-table with.”

  The sheriff said, “Not at all, sir. All I’m looking to do is not have y’all run on into Canada and get your heads handed to y’all on a platter. If I’m treading where I shouldn’t be, I’m gonna beg your leave and hesh up right now.”

  The cap’n thought on it for a second, give the sheriff a weak smile, and said, “I do ’pologize, sir. It’s jus’ that I ain’t as yet use to being up here; y’all do so many things different that I’m probably being too touchy. I do ’preciate your ’sistance.”

  “My pleasure, sir, glad to help a gennel-man from the south at any time.”

  The cap’n said, “To answer your question, we’s got all our expenses covered, plus any surprises that might present theyselfs. I’m putting myself in your hands; what would you suggest I do, sir?”

  “When you planning on going?”

  “Soon’s possible.”

  “I’d strongly suggest y’all cool y’all heels for three or four days afore you go.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Y’all’s got three stops you need make, and to do everything proper’s gonna take some time.”

  The cap’n didn’t say nothing.

  “First, soon’s you leave here, go on down to Roma Barbershop over on Erie Street. Ax for the owner, man by the name of Claudio Visseli; tell him I sent y’all and you’s looking for gennel-men’s cuts.

  “Gennel-men’s. Cuts.

  “You’s gonna have to say good-bye to the beard and them muttonchops and that’s one sure ’nough impressive moustache you got there, but it’s got to be tamed down some too.

  “Let Claudio do what he want. We’s trying to get the South Carol-liney offen y’all and, much as it’s gonna turn y’all’s stomachs, turn y’all into a couple of Yankee Doodle dandies.”

  The cap’n said, “That ain’t gonna take no three days to do.”

  The sheriff said, “That’s jus’ for starters, sir. Once Claudio’s done with you, go right ’crost the street and get you a room with a bath at the National Hotel on Woodward.

  “With. A. Bath.

  “Y’all needs some tendering up. Don’t camp out whilst you’s waiting; y’all needs to get the road outta your bones for long as you can. Y’all won’t look quite so rough and … well … so country after a couple days’ rest.

  “Then, once you’s scrubbed yourself down good, head on over to a shop called Roderick Rowser’s—he a tailor—and tell him you looking into buying you a suit. And y’all can’t be cheap neither.

  “Tell him I sent you and then he’ll have ’em altered overnight.

  “It really don’t matter how much we polishes y’all up, you ain’t gonna fool nobody for long, soon’s you opens your mouths South Carol-liney’s gonna come dripping out and once them Canadians hear that song in your voice, your goose is cooked, won’t none of ’em help you with nothing. So all we gotta do is to get y’all past a quick glimpse, and that might be ’nough.

  “Was you planning on taking a third hoss over to carry your package back?”

  “Yes, sir, I’d planned on that.”

  “I’d plan on something else. The only way y’all’s gonna get close to this boy without setting off all kinds of red flags is if you’s to come ’crost as something y’all ain’t …”

  Showing the first signs of being alive since we come in, the Keegan man give a crooked smile and axed, “Civilized?”

  The cap’n didn’t smile back.

  The sheriff axed, “This boy y’all’s running down ain’t in a place called Buxton, is he?”

  “I ain’t for sure; he’s going to school somewhere called Saint Catharines.”

  “Good, good. If he was in Buxton, y’all’d have to write him off, but Saint Catharines ain’t far from Niagry Falls; there’s trains in and out of there all the time, and the darkies there ain’t quite as unpleasant as they is in Buxton.

  “So iffen it was me, I’d board my hosses at the livery here in Dee-troit, take a ferry ’crost, then get on the train and go scout out what you need to do to get holt of your boy.

  “You can’t be carrying no bullwhip nor no bags that anyone can tell is heavy with chains and shackles. The whole point is that things has got mighty tough on catchers that go over, so we want y’all to look different.”

  The cap’n didn’t look happy. “So this is gonna be harder than I thought.”

  “I got to tell you, of every ten slave catchers that goes over, five come back with the white beat right off of ’em, four ain’t never heard from again, and ain’t but one come back with a darky.

  “And I don’t think them four that disappears got into Canada and
fount the climate to be so welcoming that they retired and is spending the rest of their days growing sunflowers.

  “If anything, they’s supplying the sunflowers with fertilizing.

  “Y’all ain’t got no papers showing y’all own him, do you? That might be some help.”

  The cap’n grunted. “Didn’t believe I’d need any. So what you think, is it best to grab him at night and wait till early morning to travel?”

  The sheriff said, “That’s one of y’all’s options, but that’s problemish too; the roads is full of people looking to disrupt what you got planned.”

  The cap’n shook his head.

  Sheriff Turner said, “The best thing to do, and the only way I’d do it if it was me looking for someone, is to trick the boy into coming to Windsor on his own somehow. Once you get him to Windsor, it ain’t nothing to bring him ’crost the river.”

  The cap’n said, “Look, I know you’s a busy man, but I’d be willing to pay good for a couple of days of your time if you was to come over with us.”

  The sheriff laughed and said, “I guess that depend on how you define ‘pay good.’ ”

  I couldn’t believe my ears when the cap’n said, “Five hunnert dollars if we gets him. I think your knowledge is worth every penny of that.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears even more when the sheriff laughed and said, “Not for twice that, sir. I’m going back home in a year and a half and I don’t need no more excitement than I already had. I could sure use the money, but it ain’t worth the risk. That’s truly a generous offer, but I gotta turn it down.”

  The cap’n said, “Well, I ’preciate the advice. I ain’t lost no one yet; these three’s the only blemish I got and I’m intending to rid myself of that.”

  The barbershop was full of laughing and talking when we stepped in.

  Didn’t take but a second for all that to come to a end once folks seent the cap’n.

  We fount ourselves two seats and waited.

  There was all sorts of sharp and dangerous-looking blades and razors and knifes setting behind where the barber stood whilst he was cutting hair. But the cap’n didn’t care; now that I know him a bit, I bet he was thinking the stopping of the talk was disrespecting him.

  He bust out being rude as he wanted to be.

  I was thinking different. I seent all them sharp tools, the skinny, steel-edge razors, the blades that could probably slice a eyebrow hair in half lengthwise, and all these strange sorts of sharp, pointy scissors as reasons to be concerned ’bout the feelings of whoever it was that worked with ’em every day.

  If you was sensible, you wouldn’t want no one who was vexed at you swinging ’em slitting tools nowhere near your throat or lips. One slip and you’d be looking at you ear laying there ’mongst the hair and cigar butts and spitted-out tobacco juice on the barbershop floor.

  And if the barber had cut my ear off, I’d jus’ leave it laying there too. I’d grab me one ’em white towels, press it ’gainst the side of my head, and go ’bout my business without saying nothing more that would risk getting more bits of me yimmed off my body.

  But the cap’n seent it different and right after the barber give us a “Good morning and welcome, gennel-men,” the cap’n set in complaining and insulting loud ’nough for everyone, including the barber, to hear him.

  “Fifteen cents for a haircut? Ten cents for a shave? I’ll tell you what, Little Charlie Bobo, when it come time for me to pay him, hand the barber your pistol so’s he can put it on me and we can say this was a honest robbery.”

  And he wasn’t happy jus’ insulting the barber neither; he had something to say ’bout near everyone who went ’head of us.

  “Much of a pinhead as you is, if I was you, I wouldn’t pay no more’n half price,” he said to one man.

  “You ain’t got but nine hairs atop your head,” he said to another. “Gimme one ’em scissors and five seconds and I’ll charge you jus’ a nickel.”

  The cap’n worked o’er the barber and all the folks ahead of us for haircuts pretty good.

  When it come time for one of us to go, he said, “Go ’head on, Little Charlie Bobo, I wants to see how you turns out.”

  I was hoping the cap’n would go outside for a second so’s I could tell this barber that I didn’t have nothing to do with all the nonsense he was saying, but the luck of the Bobos helt strong and he stayed put.

  I clumb up in the barbering chair and he leant my neck back till it was resting on this peculiar-shape piece of wood. I was staring di-rect up at the tin ceiling of the place.

  “What can I do for you?”

  The cap’n tolt him, “The sheriff sent us over, and said we needed us some gennel-men’s cuts.”

  “All right, let’s see what I’m dealing with.”

  He pulled my hat off and said, “Oh! You’re jus’ a kid.”

  “I’m twelve year old, sir.”

  “Huh, you sure are big.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He started in cutting my hair.

  When he was done, the barber handed me a looking glass and turnt the chair so’s I could see the back of my own head.

  I ain’t being no bragger when I say I ain’t never seent no handsomer lad in my whole life!

  I couldn’t pull my eyes offen myself.

  Everything ’bout my head looked clean and crisp and shiny.

  I was so proud of how good the barber made me look that I give him a big handshake. Without giving it no thought I just ’bout hugged the man too. But from the look on the cap’n’s face I knowed ’twas best not to.

  Instead I said, “Thank you very much, sir!”

  He popped the sheet offen me and used his brush to wipe off my hairs that had falled on the barbering chair.

  He looked at the cap’n and said, “Sir?”

  The cap’n hung his coat on a pole with hooks on it.

  He made sure everyone seent him pull his pistol and jam it into his belt afore he sat down.

  The barber said, “Gentleman’s cut?”

  The cap’n was all the sudden quiet, he jus’ nodded his head.

  The barber said, “Let me see what I’m working with,” and pult on the cap’n’s hat, but the hat was so stuck in place it didn’t want to leave the cap’n’s head without some considerable pulling.

  When that hat come off and I seent what it was hiding, I knowed I’d been riding with the man day and night for near three weeks and hadn’t never seent him not wearing that hat! Not even whilst he was taking that bogus bath in the river.

  The top of the cap’n’s head was total bald! The scraggly, stringy, nasty tangle of hair that run ’round his head jus’ above his ears made it look like his head was wearing a furry little coat!

  But that wasn’t the worst thing; starting halfway back on his forehead, the cap’n’s skin went from being brown as any slave you’d see to all the sudden being so white you was tempted to shield your eyes. The whole top of his head looked like a huge chicken had laid a egg there and flewed off.

  And the odd thing was the brown part of his skin was as wrinkled and creased and folded-up as a hunnert-year-old saddle, while the white part was smooth as a baby’s behind.

  It was the most bee-zarre sight I’d ever seent.

  As hard as the cap’n had used his mouth on the innocent folks in the barbershop, this was their chance to repay him, ’cause you wouldn’t-a needed no imagination at all to come up with a slew of insults to make about what he’d been keeping hid under his hat.

  But that egg what was sittin’ atop his head didn’t do nothing but serve to make the cap’n look scarier and more de-ranged than he done afore.

  The other people in the barbershop’s eyes mighta been poppin’ out they sockets, but no one had nothing to say.

  The barber said, “Sir, I can’t do anything with this until your hair’s been washed.”

  “Well, wash it, then.”

  “That’s going to be an extra dime.”

  “How’d I know that
was gonna cost more? Go ’head and do it.”

  The barber leant the cap’n’s head all the way back and set a big bowl behind the cap’n. He filt the bowl with water and put the back of the cap’n’s head o’er it. He run some water out of a jug and started soaping up the cap’n’s hair. The soap went from bubbly white to oily black in two seconds. The barber rinsed it out, then did it again three times afore the rinse water run clear.

  Once he’d dried the cap’n’s hair, he set to cutting it. When he was done, it looked like his head had took off the coat and put on a light jacket. But at least it looked neat.

  Then the barber used some of them pointy killing-looking scissors to cut the cap’n’s chin and muttonchops down afore he soaped ’em up and shaved ’em off. He started going at the Spanish moss moustache and the cap’n grabbed his arm.

  “What you doing?”

  “You said you wanted a gentleman’s cut. That means no facial hair.”

  The cap’n thought on it for a second, then turnt the man’s hand a-loose.

  “You can trim it down but don’t cut the whole thing off.”

  When the barber finished all the cutting and trimming and yimming at the cap’n, he handed him the looking glass. The cap’n wouldn’t even take it. He just said, “Gimme my hat.”

  He put his hat back on and starts looking hisself o’er in the mirrors. Once we seent his back was turnt to us, me and everyone else in the place pult a face. I mean what kind of sense do it make to get your head cleant off for the first time in only-baby-Jesus-know how many years, then put the same dirty, stanking, nasty hat back on it?

  The first thing that come to my mind was that the barber and his haircutting had busted up a bunch of lice families, them that stuck with the cap’n’s hat and them that hung on to his hair and got drownded and washed away.

  It was hard to believe, but the cap’n smiled, and I know for sure it was a smile ’cause most the Spanish moss moustache was now on the barbershop floor.