The Silver Highway

by Marian Wells

  Alex shrugged, “His staying shouldn’t be a problem. She’s given him a paper declaring his freedom.”

  “It’s just that I think she feels Joseph complicates her life.”

  Alex frowned and continued to stare at Olivia while she ate breakfast.

  Sadie thumped her bread into a bowl and covered it with a towel. “There’s going to be a meeting of the Female Anti-Slavery Society at the church next week.”

  “Never heard of that,” Alex looked at her with interest.

  Sadie nodded wisely. “Thee’s Southern and young. ’Twas started back in the thirties. I suppose thee doesn’t know the abolitionist group is largely women, poor people, and Quakers? Harriet Tubman will be speaking. She won’t be the only one, but she’s the one everybody wants to hear.”

  “Is that so?” Alex murmured, “I’d like to hear her, too.”

  “Who is Harriet Tubman?” Olivia asked.

  “Even I know,” Amelia said. “She’s a runaway slave who bought her freedom and now is helping other slaves flee the South. They call her Moses.”

  “I understand there’s a big price on her head, upwards to forty thousand dollars,” Alex stated. “She’s helped scores of slaves in the past ten years, and her reputation is such that John Brown calls her General Tubman.”

  In a moment Olivia asked, “Who is John Brown?”

  “Know anything about the Kansas-Nebraska Act and the fighting that’s going on in Kansas Territory?” Alex asked.

  She shook her head.

  With a wry smile he said, “Well, if you’re going to stick around, we’d better get to educating you.” His eyes asked the question, but she ignored it.

  Sadie said, “Senator Stephen Douglas started it all.” Shaking her head she said, “I thought he was an intelligent gentleman. Would have guessed so, since he’s Senator from Illinois.”

  “He’s coming up for reelection in 1858 this next year—which will begin in less than a month,” Alex added. “And it appears Abraham Lincoln will be running against him for the Illinois seat.”

  “I heard Lincoln’s name mentioned a couple of weeks ago,” Olivia said, “but I don’t know anything about him.”

  “He was in Congress for a term back in the late forties,” Alex said. “But the most interesting thing is the way he’s been emerging as a strong voice in the Republican party. He created a lot of excitement in 1856 when Fremont ran for President.”

  “Fifty-six?” Olivia said. “That’s when we were in Boston.” His eyes were asking questions, and she looked away.

  He sighed. “Where was I? Aren’t we getting off the subject?”

  “You were going to tell me about Kansas.”

  “First the Kansas-Nebraska Bill was written by Douglas, and there’s a strong feeling it was penned for the purpose of gaining support for a presidential bid. It set aside the Missouri Compromise of 1850, which placed limits on the expansion of slavery. The Bill allowed each territory to decide for itself whether or not slavery would be allowed by their state constitution. The concept is called Popular Sovereignty.”

  As Alex got up and moved to the rocking chair, Sadie peered at him. “Thee’s overdoing a good thing. Best go back to bed.”

  “I want to talk to these young ladies, and I doubt they will follow me in there.”

  Sadie pursed her lips. “Amelia and I will be riding into town with Amos while Olivia tends the bread and cooks the beans. Go to sleep.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, heading for the bedroom.

  Amelia looked at Sadie. “He’s been very ill?”

  “He’ll be fine if he takes care of himself now.” She turned to Olivia. “Shove the bread into the oven when it’s to the top of the pan. Might be Alex will want something to eat later. I hope he has enough sense to stay inside and rest. The lung fever could come back.” She peered at Olivia. “Thee won’t be too sad, being left?”

  Olivia shook her head. “I need to write a letter to my parents while it is quiet.”

  After they left, Olivia rolled a log onto the fire in the parlor and then went to her room. Gathering up paper and pencil, she eyed the Bible and quickly pushed it into her apron pocket.

  Except for the crackle of the fire, the house was quiet. Pale winter sun had turned the landscape into mother-of-pearl, and the soft light seemed to have wound its way through the house.

  Settling into the deep rocking chair pulled close to the fire, Olivia nestled her head against the afghan draped across its back and stared dreamily into the fire. The paper and pencil were lying forgotten on the floor.

  She slipped her hand into the apron pocket and fingered the soft leather, musing again over the strange gift and wondering about the giver. A door opened, and the floor boards creaked. Slowly she sat up, dreading the encounter, and yet curious. His question must be answered. He stood in the doorway.

  “Would you like some soup?” she asked.

  He shook his head and came to sit in the chair opposite her.

  She sorted and discarded all the things she could say, and waited. Finally he looked at her and smiled. She held her breath while her glance slid over the gold earring.

  “Now will you tell me why you came back?”

  “Not until you tell me about the earring.”

  He continued to stare into the fire. She openly examined his face, seeing the pallor and the lines, and noting new things. There seemed to be a seriousness, and a gentleness she couldn’t remember having seen before. As she watched him, she began to feel a crumbling inside, as if some wall had broken down, leaving her vulnerable. Filled with the need to flee, she started to slip out of the chair.

  He looked up. “I’ll tell you, but I have a feeling you’ll laugh.” When his eyes met hers she felt a shiver of recognition. His eyes look the way I feel on the inside, quivering and raw.

  He looked away as he started to talk. “Olivia, I’ve always considered myself a regular guy. Not too good and not too bad. I was spoiled by life, but not reconciled to life. And I’ve considered myself a Christian, a guy who kept all the rules and somehow deserved the best heaven could afford, both here and there.

  “I’m not certain when the change began, but I can point back to things that happened—like stepping stones, they led me to where I am.

  “Did Matthew tell you I dropped out of sight while we were in Boston?” She nodded and he continued. “I was on a drunk. An ugly, dirty drunk. I don’t know where I went or what I did, but I do know that I ended up on the front steps of William Garrison’s newspaper office. I’d heard about his paper, the Liberator, but how I managed to find the place in my befuddled state, I’ll never know. I like to think the Lord cared so much about me that He led me there.” His lips twisted in a small grin.

  He continued, “I spent some time with the man and his friend, Whittier. That was my first taste of humility. They are great men.”

  Silently he stared into the fire. Olivia quietly left the room, ladled soup for him, and returned. He looked surprised, but he took the bowl and ate. When she left again and returned with coffee he nodded and grinned at her. His hand brushed hers as he took the cup, she caught her breath, but he seemed unaware.

  “The rest happened while Caleb and I worked on the boat. I had it in dry dock on my father’s Louisiana plantation. We’ve always hit it off, Caleb and I. For years he’s been more of a friend than a possession—a slave.”

  Olivia went back to the rocking chair and Alex continued. “After listening to Caleb talking about the Lord as if they were the best of friends, and after being exposed to God’s Word—Caleb talked me into reading it to him—I had to face some things in my life.”

  “What?” she whispered.

  He looked up as if suddenly aware of her; his eyes were changing, but she didn’t notice. She went to sit on the stool close to him. Her hand on his sleeve urged him on. He said, “That going to church, being baptized, and taking instruction doesn’t make one a child of God. Just as Caleb’s whole life told me, being a Chr
istian is a love affair with God.”

  He touched the hand on his sleeve.

  “Caleb had me read a passage about servanthood. When a slave had been freed, if he voluntarily chose to stay with his master, he had his ear pierced with an awl and an earring inserted. To me it became a picture of submission to Jesus Christ—belonging to Him for life.”

  Alex shrugged. “I suppose I was an ignorant youngster, but I had to do something to show God I desperately wanted this relationship with Him. So I had a hole poked in my ear and bought an earring to fill it. It was hideous and visible, but it said what needed to be said. By then I knew what God wanted of me.”

  “What does He want?” she whispered, nearly fearful.

  “To give the way He gave. Only for me it was to be a redeemer of physical lives. Olivia, do you realize what I am saying? This—what you see now, will never be any different.”

  “You won’t be a lawyer or a plantation owner or anything except—this?” The sweep of her hand took in the pallor of his face, the room, and pointed in the direction of the Golden Awl at the wharf.

  “That’s right.” His eyes were expressionless but gentle, and she knew he understood what she was thinking.

  When she frowned, he asked, “What is it?”

  “I’m wondering what it could be that so convinced you.”

  “It was that fifteenth chapter of Deuteronomy. After reading it to Caleb and having him act as if the words had set him on fire, I realized what a magnificent thing it is to belong to God.”

  Looking embarrassed, Alex said, “I decided I had to express to God how I felt about being accepted by Him. Not the act, but the commitment. But after the commitment, I needed the other. The earring. It was the only way I knew to say, ‘God I want to belong to You, and I won’t trust my weak humanity instead of You.’”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I needed to take a step that would forever brand me as belonging to Him, a visible sign.” He moved uneasily. “I didn’t want to leave an open door for backing out of the commitment.”

  Chapter 34

  The following week Matthew and Crystal returned. It was nearly Christmas, and Alex was still recuperating. In the kitchen Olivia and Sadie were making preparations for the holidays. Sadie mended stacks of clean woolen stockings while Olivia shaped Christmas cookies. Sadie said, “Not many people would consider a mended stocking a gift, but I know some who would rather have that than nothing.”

  They heard Alex go to the door. Over the heavy male voices, Olivia recognized Crystal’s. “They’re here.” Sadie gave her a questioning glance, and Olivia hurried down the hall.

  Crystal rushed to meet her. She looked hard at Olivia and then pressed her cold cheek against her face. “I’m so happy!” she whispered. “Please, can you accept a sister-in-law?”

  Olivia returned the hug, considering the layers of meaning in Crystal’s question. “Crystal, with all my heart I wish you and Matthew happiness.”

  Matthew hugged her. “Forgive us?” The face seemed strangely boyish, and Olivia nodded.

  “You are back to stay?” Alex asked.

  Matthew hesitated, but Crystal said, “Yes, of course. We want to help.”

  Matthew turned to Alex. “What’s the trouble with you, old fella? You look a little peaked.”

  “Lung fever,” Sadie said. “He nearly didn’t make it. Caleb said he’d been sick for several weeks.” She turned to Matthew, “Now thee can take the luggage up to the east room, just off the sitting room. And come down and have some coffee.”

  Alex carried the tray of coffee and cookies into the parlor and Matthew soon rejoined him, asking, “What is happening now?”

  Alex grinned. “Caleb is anxious to be gone. He drove the last group over into Canada just a week ago. As soon as the ice breaks, we’ll be back in business.”

  “Had a bad time of it?” Matthew asked as Crystal came into the room and sat beside him.

  “Floating ice in the river slowed us down.” Alex paused and added, “One thing. Remember the last inspector we had? We ran into him in Mississippi. I’m certain he recognized me. Fortunately, we had legitimate cargo.”

  They spent most of the afternoon talking about the recent past and going over plans for the future, which seemed to rejuvenate Alex. At supper that evening as they waited for Amos and Caleb to join them, Sadie said, “Tomorrow night we’re all going into town. The meetings are starting.” She glanced at Crystal and Matthew and explained, “Every year about this time, while the farmers are free, the Anti-Slavery Society sponsors lectures at the meeting house.”

  “Abolitionists,” Matthew said slowly. “We Southerners are uninformed. How old is the group?”

  “Before the first tariff was written and the first protest against it by the South Carolina crowd, the society was formed, and people took to the streets to protest against us.”

  Amos sat down and grinned. “In the thirties the societies were blooming like roses.” He added, “No sense in getting riled, Sweetheart, thee said thyself the rest of the country didn’t know what was going on here.” He looked at Matthew. “My Sadie is sensitive to it all. She’s been in the group for twenty years now.”

  Gentled, Sadie said, “We’ve had some setbacks. You know, in the beginning the abolitionists were able to take their message into the South itself.”

  Amos added, “Didn’t rile people much in the beginning, even in the South. But since Garrison and his paper came along, the feelings have been running hot.”

  As Sadie began to serve the meal she muttered, “They burned down the new convention hall in Philadelphia. Nearly killed Garrison—and they did kill Elijah Lovejoy.”

  “You could go on,” Amos said mildly. “Some of the Puritans say Negroes descend from Cain, and the Tappan family were snubbed and mistreated when they aided runaways.” He turned to Matthew and added, “Things like this cause problems. Not all the bad feelings are on the Southern side, but when it comes to correcting the situation, we need to work together on both sides.”

  Alex said, “I understand your sister state, Ohio, had its share of problems with the movement. It’s been labeled free but pro-slavery.”

  Amos nodded. “That’s one reason we’re here instead of in Ohio. Reverend Rankin has even had his sons holding off the pack with rifles while slaves were escaping out the back door.”

  Sadie handed Alex the plate of biscuits. “Garrison is a Quaker preacher.”

  “Yes, I know.” Olivia met his eyes, remembering their talk. For a moment, as she thought of his story of the earring, she nearly forgot the others in the room.

  ****

  Late the following afternoon, Crystal tapped and came into the room Olivia and Amelia shared. “I’ve brought you gifts. And of course it’s blue for you, Amelia, and rose for Olivia.”

  Olivia shook out the folds of the soft knit shawl. “Oh, Crystal, Mississippi watermelon pink. I love it!” She kissed her friend.

  Amelia wrapped the shawl about her shoulders and turned in front of the mirror. “It is so—generous, big and soft. I’ve never had anything this luxurious,” she said. “Thank you; it was kind of you to remember us.”

  “I thought you would like to wear them tonight. Oh, Sadie said to tell you it’s time to go.” After Amelia had rushed out the door, Crystal caught Olivia’s arm.

  “Please,” she whispered, “I haven’t said anything to Matthew about—” She sighed. “I promise I will as soon as possible, but for now, don’t give me away.”

  With a sinking heart, Olivia tried to cover her emotions with a smile. “Let’s go, they’re waiting.”

  When Olivia reached the foot of the stairs, Matthew was wrapping his wife in a soft fur cape. Quickly he pressed a kiss on her cheek and Crystal smiled up at him as she touched his face.

  Alex, who felt recovered enough to go to the meeting, stopped beside Olivia. “We’re riding in the sleigh; will you be warm enough?”

  “I have a heavy cloak,” she said, turning away
from Crystal and Matthew. Alex glanced at the pair, looked at Olivia, and frowned. As he started to speak, she shook her head. “Please!”

  Amos explained the sleigh. “There are too many of us for the carriage, and it’s too cold to go without buffalo robes. Besides, the sleigh is nice on a night like this.”

  “Romantic,” Matthew said with a self-conscious laugh.

  When Olivia reached the sleigh, she felt Alex’s hand under her arm and recalled the last time they had been together like this. She had slept against his chest, while farmer Stevens drove them to Paducah. Glancing up at him, she decided he had forgotten.

  With a grin, Amos said, “We’re going to have moonlight, and I want my sweetheart close!” He chuckled as he helped Sadie into the sleigh.

  The ride into town was smooth and swift across the frozen road. The jingle of the harness bells overlapped the hiss of runners and the low hum of conversation.

  “Good thing we came early,” Amos said as they arrived, nodding toward the stream of wagons and sleighs pulling into the meetinghouse grounds. “I think we will be having a big crowd.”

  “No doubt at all,” Sadie said. “With all the rumblings and grumblings going on, there’s an interest.”

  “What rumblings?” Alex asked.

  Amos looked around Sadie, “Did thee hear about President Buchanan’s latest attempt to settle the war in Kansas?”

  “No.” Both Alex and Matthew chorused the word.

  “Back in 1854, Missouri shoved slavery men over the border into Kansas and they started fighting with the anti-slavery settlers. Been going on for a couple of years before Buchanan interfered. Some say he was trying to keep the South happy and make himself a point for his presidency.

  “Buchanan came up with an idea of how to settle it—sleight of hand, it was. He tried to talk his Democratic Congress into admitting Kansas into statehood under the Lecompton Constitution which authorizes slavery. Thee’d better believe we’ll be hearing about that tonight. It sure has caused an uproar. They say even Douglas is disgusted with him.” He paused and shook his head.

  After parking the sleigh, they all got out and trudged inside where the long wooden benches were filling rapidly. Amos chose a bench close to the front of the building, and the others filed in after him.