The Silver Highway

by Marian Wells

****

  Crystal walked slowly past the blacksmith shop, came back and turned in. The burly man left the forge and came toward her. “Do you have a Negro named Joseph working here?”

  The smithy nodded. “Not here today. Leg’s been bothering him some.” He turned to point. “Lives in that little house over there.”

  “Thank you.” She left the shop uneasily and walked over to Joseph’s house, aware that the man continued to watch her.

  When Joseph answered her knock, Crystal saw the tears spring to his eyes, and guilt swept over her. She pushed at the door and walked in. “Joseph, your leg is bothering you, isn’t it?” Using his thumbs to wipe his eyes, he nodded. “I’m sorry, I’ve neglected you. There’s no excuse. But you do know I’m married, don’t you?”

  Again he nodded. Limping, he brought forward the only chair in the room. “Missy, you don’t need to apologize. I’m just glad to see you. May I offer you a cup of tea?” She nodded and he reached for the can on the shelf.

  Crystal turned slowly, taking in all the details of the poor room, with its bench for a bed and a three legged table. Pegs held Joseph’s wardrobe, and she could see the fireplace served both for heat and cooking. She watched Joseph ladle hot water from the iron pot hanging close to the flames.

  Crystal stayed for an hour. Their conversation was stilted as they avoided the subject that bound them both. Finally Crystal rose. “Joseph, I must leave, but I’m concerned that you need so much more than you have. Please, this is all I can do for you.” She pressed the gold pieces into his hand.

  He looked at the money and pushed it back. “Please, Missy. If they see a black man like me with this kind of money, they’ll think I stole it. I can’t take it.”

  The words were out before she thought. “Then I shall have to spend it for you. Tell me what you need. Is that the only blanket you have? What about a heavy coat? The winter will be cold. I shall buy food.”

  Lowering her head to avoid looking at him, she left the house. While walking down the main street of the small village, she investigated the shops and finally selected one that seemed to carry a large variety of merchandise.

  Besides the coat and three blankets, she added underwear, heavy socks, shirts, and trousers. As she paid for the merchandise, she said, “All this will need to be delivered. May I rely upon you to take care of that for me?” The clerk nodded, and she said, “It is to be taken to the house beside the blacksmith shop. The man is Joseph, a freed slave. Now tell me where I can find a good grocery.”

  As she turned from the counter, she nearly bumped into the man behind her. “Ma’am—” He bowed with a deep mocking sweep. “We meet again.”

  “Mr. Tristram,” Crystal said, hoping her dismay wasn’t obvious.

  “So you are shopping, and very generously so. Did I hear you say he is a freed slave? That is most kind of you. Pity more of our friends don’t take this responsibility.”

  Crystal carefully controlled her irritation as she bowed and moved toward the door. The clerk called after her, “And I’m to let Joseph know you’ve chosen boots for him, and he’s to pick them up?”

  “That is correct. Thank you.” Crystal hurried out the door. As she deliberately slowed her feet on the rough walk, she mulled over her encounter with Lucas Tristram. Recalling his mocking smile, her heart sank. “Mr. Tristram,” she whispered, “I have a feeling you’re not above using this incident to your own advantage. I’ve no idea what it could be, but your cynical eyes leave me shaking in my shoes.”

  Crystal entered the grocery, ordered generously of canned foods, cured meats, and staples. By the time she had paid her bill, Amos was waiting. The clerk carried her order to the wagon and Amos watched in silence as the bundles were loaded. As he flipped the reins along the horses’ backs, he said, “Mighty generous of you, Crystal. I hope it doesn’t cause a misunderstanding.”

  Lucas Tristram’s face flashed through Crystal’s thoughts as she murmured, “I do, too.”

  Chapter 43

  At breakfast Amos carried in a stack of newspapers. “Alex, I’ve been saving these for thee. Thought thee’d be interested in articles about the Lincoln-Douglas Debates. There are some reference to the New York revivals. Gave me goose bumps to read it. Makes one think the Second Coming of Jesus Christ is right around the corner. Did thee know this move toward revival began in 1857? The Watchman and Reflector helped it on by their articles. From there it started catching fire. Now we’re hearing it’s moving west.”

  After breakfast Alex stayed on at the table to read the newspapers. Looking over the top of his paper, he addressed Olivia. “I’m afraid this war talk might foster that very thing. It seems the South is now constantly finding fault with the policies of the North. How I would like to hear Lincoln and Douglas!”

  Matthew came into the room and Alex said, “What would you think about giving me a hand?”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Paying a visit to the Golden Awl. I need to see what needs to be done before we can move her. Won’t have a boat if she’s caught in the ice this winter.”

  He heard Olivia’s sigh and looked up. He grinned, “Of course, we need cooks if we stay there for a week or so. Matt, is it level enough to live in?”

  “Unless something’s happened since we saw it. I think that’s a good idea. I’ve been concerned, but didn’t dare consider anything until Caleb comes back. Leaving it there makes it subject to vandalism.”

  “When can we start?”

  Sadie came to the table. “I baked yesterday; there’s bread, pie, and cookies.”

  “Want to come along, too?” Alex asked, grinning at her.

  She patted his shoulder and said, “You like my cookies. These women can take care of you just fine.”

  “Alex, what if we are followed by those terrible men?”

  He turned to look at Olivia. “My dear, I doubt that will happen. But even if it did, they wouldn’t discover anything of significance. There’s no evidence of the people having been there. If anything, being in jail has given me new confidence. I simply need to be certain the slaves aren’t apprehended. No slaves, no evidence.”

  “How about leaving tomorrow?” Matthew asked.

  “How about today?” Alex countered.

  “I’ve got an appointment with Tristram this morning. He wants me to come to his hotel.” Sadie sighed, and Matthew said, “I’m getting tired of it too. Right now I feel obligated to listen to his arguments. You realize I’m making a choice that may have ramifications for the rest of my life.”

  “I’d be interested in what he has to say.”

  “He’s leaving this evening. I suppose he may come back. Depends on how the meeting goes today. In addition, I don’t think he’s going to waste his time on you,” Matthew said dryly. “He sees you as having made up your mind.”

  “Doesn’t think his arguments can hold up under pressure?”

  “Alex, it’s politics. You and I both know how the South feels about this growing tension. According to Tristram, and I must agree it makes sense, the Southern cause can best be fought in Washington.”

  “How’s he going to get you there?”

  “He seems to think there’s no problem at all. Several times he’s mentioned the influence both our families have. Crystal’s and mine.”

  “But it’s a gamble.” Alex stated flatly. “Tell me, has he aired his view on Lincoln?”

  “I don’t think he’s worried; he doesn’t see him as a political threat. Seemed to view him as inept in about everything. However, he has mentioned that several of the strong governors in the South see Lincoln as a threat.” He paused, adding thoughtfully, “Certainly Lincoln seems to have an ability to move those who listen to him.”

  After Matthew left, Alex said, “I think I’ll ride over to the Awl, take a look myself. If it’s feasible for us all to stay there, we can have Amos take us in the wagon tomorrow, with enough supplies to last us a week or so while we get the Awl running again.”

 
; “Oh!” Olivia exclaimed.

  Sadie looked up and smiled at Olivia. “Can’t stand to have him out of thy sight for a day? Well, ride along with him.”

  “I’d like that,” Alex said, getting to his feet.

  “I’ll pack food for us.”

  Olivia quickly finished washing the dishes. Sadie chuckled, “Stars in thine eyes like I haven’t seen before.” Olivia blushed, and Sadie added, “Enjoy the good times; life has a way of settling back to normal all too soon.”

  Olivia sighed and admitted, “I’d hoped this would be normal.”

  “Seems as long as we’re on this earth, life heaps up the work and troubles. Guess the secret to having marriage a little nicer than normal is making our partners more important than hoeing the beans, but not forgetting the beans altogether.”

  Alex came into the kitchen. “Amos doesn’t have a sidesaddle.”

  “That’s fine; I’ll wear Matthew’s dungarees.”

  When Olivia came back into the kitchen, Alex solemnly looked her over. “Sadie, there’s only one problem that I see. She looks like a little boy. I’ve a feeling she runs the danger of being treated like a little boy.”

  He grinned at Olivia. “Come along, lad; you need to carry your share of the load. Might be I can find a hammer and screwdriver for you.”

  When they reached the Awl, Olivia mourned, “I rode within a mile of it! It didn’t occur to me that they would leave the Ohio.” Alex slid off his mare and went to hobble the horses in a grassy spot. Coming back to the boat, he shook his head, “Caleb was nearly foolish to head up here. But thinking those thugs were hot on his tail was enough to make him attempt this, and it has been proven wise. That is, if we can get it out of here.” He held out a hand to Olivia. “Come along, favorite wife; let’s look over the boat.”

  Both of them went in separate directions as they inspected the boat for damage. But at the end of an hour they were together again, and Alex said, “Even the firewood is still here. We have honest neighbors—or perhaps no one has discovered the boat. It’s going to take a while to dig the paddles out of the sand. Looks like Caleb tried to flank it and the rear end swung just enough to bury the paddles. Knowing Caleb, he shut it down immediately, so I doubt there’s severe damage.”

  “I’ve checked out the pilothouse and cabins,” Olivia said. “The pilothouse is dirty. Dead leaves and such. Why don’t they put windows in the front of pilothouses?”

  “Glass cuts down on visibility and the pilot can’t hear as well.” He added, “Imagine trying to see through a window when the rain is coming at you.”

  “Are you going to start work today?”

  “No, I’ll make a list of things we need—like more shovels. We’ll eat lunch and head back.”

  “We need to bring drinking water. Otherwise we’ll have to find a well. I suppose you don’t want to have too many neighbors knowing about this.”

  “Right.” He faced her. “Makes me want to make another trip; how about you?”

  “Whatever you say,” she touched his cheek. “I don’t care where we go, as long as you take me with you.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and snuggled her close. “One of the reasons I like the boat is because we’ve spent so much time here. It’s home, and I can close the door and forget the world is out there.”

  “We have all afternoon,” she mused. “Would you like coffee with your sandwich?”

  ****

  The following day, after Amos had unloaded their gear and departed, Matthew surveyed the sandbar and the buried paddlewheel. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he paced the river bank and said, “I’m inclined to do it the easy way. How about using logs to build leverage under it?”

  “It’s going to make it difficult to keep dishes on the table,” Alex said dryly. “Now, if we dig a little and then enjoy a day or so, we could try your method.”

  Matthew laughed and poked his arm. “I get you, my friend—hey, not friend. Brother.” Matthew grinned. “That just dawned on me.”

  “Well, brother, if you agree, let’s go find some coffee and get the pilothouse cleaned up. That ought to be work enough for today. Tomorrow we can check out the engine.”

  They found the cabin filled with the aroma of coffee while Crystal and Olivia sat with their heads together. Alex grinned at the two while the pink mounted in their cheeks. Chuckling, he took the coffee pot and mugs and headed for the pilothouse.

  “Matthew, what do young brides talk about when they are alone?”

  Surprised, Matthew frowned and shook his head. “Beats me—probably about how wonderful their husbands are.”

  “Spoken like a true Southern gentleman,” Alex said. Matthew gave him a quick glance. As Alex took up the broom, he pondered the strange expression in Matthew’s eyes. He’s confused and more than a little unhappy. Guess this project has the Lord’s hand on it after all.

  By mid-afternoon, with the brass and windows shining, Alex said, “Looks top-notch. Might as well sit down and enjoy the place while it’s still clean. I’ll go down and get us some more coffee.”

  When Alex came back, he asked, “How did your meeting with Tristram go?”

  Matthew sighed. “He passed a lot of words off on me. I’m still chewing on them. Made sense—I just don’t know my own mind. Alex, he’s given me a pretty heavy load about my responsibility to the South.”

  Alex poured more coffee. “Mind telling me? I scarcely remember the fellow. I remember a dandy image—slender, wore white most of the time. Got the idea he had a good opinion of himself.”

  “I guess that’s fairly accurate. Remember Mallory?” Alex gave him a quick, startled glance, then he nodded. “Well, he’s had contact with him and other unnamed gentlemen. Here’s what it boils down to. Southern politicians are getting a little upset with the events occurring across the country. For a time it looked as if the South could at least maintain a balance of power.”

  “In Washington?”

  “There, but also in the territories. I hadn’t fully understood the uneasiness caused by all this business with the Compromise of 1850 and the Kansas-Nebraska Act, plus the shakiness the Dred Scott ruling has created. Tristram says the Northern reaction to the ruling made most of the Southern governors sit up and take notice.”

  “For what reason?”

  “I think they are fearful the South is losing out. I feel somewhat that way. Seems if action isn’t taken soon, there won’t be a South as we know it. You are aware of the uniqueness of our life compared to the North. It’s culture compared to—”

  “Now Matt, that isn’t fair. There’s a difference, yes. But I don’t believe it’s culture the way you mean it, so much as values. The North seems to operate under a completely different value system. Granted, they aren’t any nicer than our people, but there’s things about the North I prefer.”

  “Such as?”

  “I’ll never forget the first time I saw a Negro gentleman walking down the streets of Boston.”

  “Alex, that word gentleman is an unbelievable contrast with the word Negro.”

  “Nevertheless, my eyes didn’t deceive me. And it happened more than once. Dignified black men—dress, behavior, education, and occupation supported the image. That couldn’t happen in the South today. Unless we take action, it never will happen.”

  Alex and Matthew were both silent. Finally Matthew protested, “You realize you’re cutting through all the things Tristram is saying to me? You bring up one fact and, measured against all he says, I am nearly ashamed of being Southern. Alex, this is tearing me apart. The South is home in a way that makes it impossible to consider what you have to say.”

  “He’s really put the load on you. So, you’ve decided?”

  “No, but—” He got to his feet and paced the pilothouse floor. “It’s like telling your family you disown them.”

  “I know; I’ve gone through the same struggle.”

  “But you seem at peace now. And you’ve chosen to turn your back on Southern princip
les.”

  “It’s because of Jesus Christ. I was confused until I threw out everything except the necessity of having Jesus Christ as Lord of my life.”

  Matthew’s voice was mocking. “You’re saying that if you follow Jesus Christ, you’ll not have anything to do with the Southern cause. Tell that to all the good people in the South who are convinced they love the Lord with all their hearts and they are living just as He wants them to live.”

  “I’m not saying they aren’t Christian,” Alex said slowly. “Not at all. That is between them and God. They know they will need to face God one of these days, and if their conscience is clear before Him now, who am I to say my values are better than theirs?”

  “Then why this?”

  “I’m not trying to solve all the world’s problems. My individual commitment to God demands I follow the call He has placed upon my heart. Freeing these people is my burden and joy. And knowing this is what He wants of me, how else can I live?” He paused and then added, “Thank God, Olivia now feels the same way about this. On this last trip I was starting to see indications in her life that told me how deeply involved she was in the movement. More involved than even she recognized.” He looked up with a grin, “But don’t get me wrong! She gave me a very uneasy time until I heard her say the cause had become hers, too.”

  Matthew’s eyes were thoughtful, nearly wary, as he said, “That surprises me. It doesn’t seem like her. I’d figured you’d just come across so strong she was willing to take the risk. I also guessed she’d try talking you into going home. Maybe I underestimated her. Either that, or she’s finally got her head on straight.”

  “Might be you’ve failed to understand what the Lord’s been doing in her life.”

  Matthew moved impatiently. In a moment Alex said, “But getting back to your meeting, I am honestly interested in what Tristram had to say.”

  “Well, for one thing, he pointed out how the political balance was upset when California, Minnesota, and Oregon were admitted to the Union. This has all happened since 1850.” Matthew paused, then added, “I don’t know whether or not Tristram knows our involvement in the abolitionist movement, but this is one of the things he has mentioned several times as being an infringement of the South’s rights. I agree. I don’t know how it could be considered otherwise.”