Billy Boy

by Jean Mary Flahive

  “Ethan taught me mostly.”

  “And who is this Ethan?”

  “Private, same as me.” Lowering his head, he finished shaping the Meeting House’s chimney and then stared at his progress. Except for smoothing the tiny notches marking the windows, it was almost finished. Yesterday he had nearly taken a fit trying to get the windows just right. Seemed like every time he went to carve one, he got confused, there being so many and all. Finally Elijah had grabbed the knife, and from the loft, peered through the cracks. He nicked the wood, marking a place for each window so Billy would know where to put them.

  The rhythmic gait of the bays slowed, and the heavier clopping of hooves echoed noisily in his ears. The wagon rattled and bumped across a stone bridge that was arched over a shallow river.

  “What’s this river, Miss Johanna?”

  “It’s the Patuxent River. When we crossed the bridge we left Montgomery County and entered Howard County.”

  “We almost there, you thinkin’?” He stretched the stiffness from his neck and shoulders and then looked down again at his whittling. Pleased with the result, he blew away the loose pine chips, rubbed the wood against his shirt, and tucked it into his haversack.

  “Ellicotts Mills is about fifteen miles from Sandy Spring. We have another hour at least. We must pass through Highland and Clarksville first, and then we will be there.”

  Looking out across the fields, Billy twisted sideways in his seat when he spotted a small boy beating a stick against the rails of a wooden gate as he herded cows to a higher pasture. Near Jamie’s size, he thought. Doing chores. Suddenly gripped with longing, he stared at the dark-haired child, watching intently as the boy poked the cows playfully with his stick, hopping from one foot to another in his own imaginary game. Billy yanked off his hat and started to wave at the child when the clatter of an approaching wagon spooked him.

  Clouds of dust filled the air as the fast-moving wagon narrowed the gap. Billy turned and looked at Johanna and saw that she was trembling, the knuckles of her long hands white against the leather reins.

  “Those two men in the wagon are in a frightful hurry,” Johanna said nervously, with another glance over her shoulder. Her gaze dropped to the blankets covering Elijah. There was no movement beneath the dark wool.

  In seconds the wagon was alongside them. Clucking his teeth, the driver pulled back on the reins and his sorrel mare fell into a slow trot.

  Billy pulled the brim of his hat down over his forehead and stole a glance at the driver, who was smiling. His passenger, a man with ruddy hair, was looking intently at Johanna. Billy tried to remember the faces of the men who had chased him into the barn, but he couldn’t recall them. He pressed his back against the seat, shielding himself behind Johanna’s shoulders.

  “Lovely morning!” the driver shouted.

  “Indeed.” Johanna nodded in response, never turning her face in the men’s direction.

  “Where might you folks be from?”

  Billy relaxed. The voice seemed friendly enough.

  “Not far from Porter’s Corner,” Johanna replied.

  “Going to market in Ellicotts Mills?”

  The ruddy-haired passenger leaned over in his seat, scanning the nearly empty tailboard until his eyes rested on the pile of blankets. “But then you’re not bringing anything to sell I see,” he added. “Or mebbe you are selling blankets?”

  “We are meeting a friend at the station,” Johanna answered. “We left early this morning, and the blankets kept us warm.”

  “Well, mebbe I’ll see you at the market. I surely wouldn’t miss a red-headed beauty like you,” the man said.

  “If thee has a mind to do the Lord’s work, I would hope you would join us,” Johanna replied tersely.

  The man’s face flushed red; the driver chuckled and pumped the reins and called out to the horse. The mare broke into a fast trot and the wagon lurched forward, spewing dirt and dust in the air. Cages stacked in the tailboard of the passing wagon toppled to the floor, causing the laying hens inside to flutter and squawk, their feathers spilling through the wooden slats.

  The wagon wound its way through Highland and Clarksville and climbed the last long hill to Ellicotts Mills. A cool salty breeze swept over the crest as Billy gazed at the wooded vale. He pointed to a white steeple rising above the treetops.

  “That’s the Emory Methodist Church thee sees,” Johanna said. “And that smoke rising above the hills comes from the trains at the bottom of the Patapsco River ravine.” Johanna rested the reins on her lap and turned to face Billy. “My journey with thee and Elijah is nearly over. Thee must trust in Anna.”

  Billy lowered his head and said nothing. Just thinking about Anna and pretending she was his wife made the hair on his skin rise. Johanna called out to the horses and the wagon plodded down the steep grade into the woods.

  The white steeple loomed large in front of him. They were close to the church, and Anna. Billy looked at his hands, which felt warm and clammy. He rubbed the flat of his palms back and forth over his thighs. His breath came fast.

  “Thee must relax. Breathe deeply,” Johanna said in a soothing tone.

  “I ain’t likin’ this marryin’ is all,” Billy mumbled.

  Oak trees lined the lane, their leaves a blend of green and gold against the pale blue sky, and the long shadows of late autumn cast a deepened blue across the hardening ground. The horses shook their long necks and came to a stop in front of the church. Then Billy saw her, a slender woman in a dark red dress standing at the top of the steps. He lowered his eyes and turned away.

  “It is so good to see thee, Johanna!” Anna called as she ran down the church steps.

  “And I am so pleased to see thee again as well.”

  Johanna tapped him on the arm. “Billy, will thee kindly tie the horses?” Lifting the hem of her dress, Johanna climbed down as Billy hoisted the reins over the wagon and leaped to the ground, eager to disappear in the shelter of the horses.

  “Thy dress is bright, Anna! And thee was wise to think of wearing such a fine plumed hat as this.”

  “I cannot dress as a Quaker and be seen with a slave. Is he—?”

  “Under the blankets. Is anyone about?”

  “The pastor is at another parish and graciously allowed us to go inside. We will be safe here for a short while.”

  “Elijah? Thee may come out now.”

  Billy tied the reins to the rail and patted the bays’ damp necks. He scrambled back into the tailboard, yanked the blankets off Elijah, and tossed them onto the ground. He grinned as Elijah stirred and raised himself onto the buckboard, all the while squinting in the bright sunlight and rubbing his eyes.

  “You all right?” Billy asked.

  “Elijah fine, Billy, suh.”

  “Thee both must hurry inside the church. We will talk there,” said Anna as she collected the blankets and dropped them into the tailboard. Elijah stood and looked about, breathing deeply of the fresh air.

  “Hurry!” Anna said.

  Elijah stared in wonderment. Sunlight streaked through stained-glass windows, filtering red, yellow, and purple hues onto rows of polished pews. He stepped slowly and stopped, mesmerized by a painting on the whitewashed wall—the gentle face of a man with long brown hair, a ring of brushed gold adorning his head.

  “That’s Jesus,” Billy said quietly as he walked up beside him.

  “Yes, suh.”

  Elijah walked slowly down the aisle following the beams of light, running his fingers lightly along the tops of the smooth benches. He glanced at the front of the chapel, at an altar topped with shiny candlesticks and a cloth of red velvet. The figure of Jesus bound to a large wooden cross hung on the wall behind the altar.

  Elijah turned to look at Billy. “Never been in a place like this before.”

  “Why ain’t you been in a church?”

  “They for white folk.”

  “Ain’t you got a place to hear about God?”

  “Yes, suh, und
er the willow oak,” Elijah said.

  “You go to church under a tree?”

  “Lord hear us just the same.” He pressed his back into the pew and sat silently for several moments.

  “You see Miss Anna? She purty, you thinkin’?”

  Before Elijah could respond, the church door opened and the rustle of skirts interrupted the stillness. Billy sucked in his breath, turned and watched as Anna moved down the center aisle. Black ringlets dangled from under her hat. Her skin was smooth and very pale and her eyes were the color of cinnamon drops. Goose bumps rose on his skin.

  “Hello, Billy,” Anna said as she unpinned her hat and smoothed a few tendrils of hair away from her face. “And thee is Elijah?”

  “Yes, Missus Anna.”

  Billy tried to return her greeting, but the words stuck in his throat. His mouth was dry. Embarrassed, he lowered his head and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Elijah,” Johanna said, “Anna has a trunk outside on the steps. Would thee and Billy bring it inside? Billy, you go out first to make sure there is no one about.”

  Bringing the small trunk inside, they placed it at Anna’s feet. Raising the skirt of her dress, Anna knelt on the floor, lifted the lid, and removed a bundle of clothing. “I did not know if thee had the proper clothes to travel on the train,” she said, glancing up at Elijah. “Here is a pair of pantaloons and a shirt. The shirt is one that household slaves most often wear. And here is a hat.” Handing the clothes to Elijah, she then turned to Billy. “Thee could use a clean shirt. Thy sack coat is worn by civilians, so it should not draw attention to thee.” Offering a faint smile, she handed Billy a shirt.

  “Thee will be called Billy Dickinson, which is my last name,” Anna continued as she latched the trunk and straightened the folds of her dress. “And Elijah, thee will be called Daniel. Thee is a household slave—from the Dickinson plantation—not far from Sandy Spring. And we are traveling to Philadelphia to visit my mother who is ill.”

  “Daniel?” Billy looked confused. “Why you callin’ him Daniel?”

  “To fool the slave hunters, Billy. I suspect Elijah is worth a great deal of money to his master. And his master surely placed a notice in the newspaper offering a reward. There are always slave hunters who prowl the train stations and read the notices, hoping to find runaways. The notice would print his name and his description.”

  She turned and looked at Elijah. “Should thee hear thy true name, do not respond or turn thy head to anyone.”

  “Yes, missus.”

  “Good. Thee both must be watchful at all times, and think only about thy new names, Daniel and Billy Dickinson. A simple mistake may get thee caught. Daniel, thee should not have to speak at any time—and Billy, thee must pay attention to me. Let me answer questions from the train agents or strangers.” Anna looked at Billy, her small eyes dark with intensity. “And thee must not ever talk to Daniel as if thee are friends. Can thee remember that?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answered, staring down at the floor.

  Johanna spoke up. “The station will likely be very crowded. Mr. Stabler says the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad out of Ellicotts Mills carries thousands of men and supplies to the western front.”

  “Yes, it is so. That may be a help to us,” said Anna. “Now thee both must change thy clothes.” She pointed to a darkened corner of the chapel.

  “Missus Anna, what if this plan go wrong?” Elijah asked as he followed Billy back to the front of the chapel. “What we go and do then?”

  “It is a wise question. Johanna tells me thee knows about the Vigilance Committee in Philadelphia. If things go wrong when we get to Philadelphia, thee must find thy own way to the Anti-Slavery Society office, on Fifth Street. Thee will find Mr. William Still, a colored man, at this place. Remember this name, for he is the one who will help thee.”

  Johanna leaned forward on the pew. “How will they find this place or Mr. Still without thee?”

  Anna thought for a moment before saying, “Our train will stop near the Schuylkill River. But thee must turn away from the river and head straight into the city—it is not far to Fifth Street. Mr. Still’s office is on the corner of Fifth and Market. To be safe, thee both should only walk at night and hide during the day. Or … ” she hesitated and looked at Billy. “Thee could ask a merchant for directions to Hyde Street. That is where I live.”

  “It worries me so that thee faces much danger—”

  “Johanna, the Lord has prepared me well for His work. I do not fear the risks I take each time I help a runaway or speak out against such evils.”

  The whistle of a train echoed up the hillside. Billy glanced at Anna.

  “We must go now,” said Anna. “Johanna, thee may drive us close to the station, but it is better if thee says thy good-byes here. Since we have a slave, we should not be seen with a Friend.” She wrapped her arms around Johanna’s waist. “I will send thee a telegraph when we are in Philadelphia. Do not worry, my dearest friend. I will keep them safe.”

  Billy reached for his haversack. “Miss Johanna,” he said, “I whittled this here for you—finished it on the wagon.” He placed the carving in her hand. “Elijah and me was wantin’ to thank you is all.”

  “The Sandy Spring Meeting House,” she gasped. “It’s lovely, Billy. So this is what kept thee so busy all morning.” Johanna kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I shall treasure this always.” She turned to Elijah and pulled him close. He hugged her back and closed his eyes.

  “Elijah,” Johanna whispered. “Thee is a young man still and soon will build a new life. Thee has great courage. And I will be with thee in spirit.”

  “Same as me,” Billy added.

  Anna placed her arm through Billy’s. “We are married now.” With a tug on his arm she led him down the aisle. He stared at the floor. “Thee must not be afraid to look at me, Billy Dickinson! Thee is now my husband.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, the lump returning in his throat.

  “Daniel,” called Anna. “I will be speaking sharply to thee, but remember—it is not what I feel in my heart. Now put the trunk in the wagon and sit in the back.”

  Billy glanced at Elijah, wondering if he was as afraid as he was.

  Outside, Johanna pulled her shawl close around her shoulders and looked up at the darkening sky. “Look, Billy! Does thee see the flock of geese?” He looked up and nodded.

  “Their long journey is almost over.”

  Johanna reached over and squeezed Billy’s hand.

  “May God keep thee safe on thy journey home. And may thee and Elijah one day come to walk cheerfully over this world.”

  Chapter 18

  “We need three tickets for Philadelphia,” Anna said to the agent.

  “Three, you say?” the agent asked, his eyes darting back and forth between Anna and Billy, close at her side.

  “Our servant is traveling with us.”

  “You’ll need to change stations in Baltimore. Train to Philly leaves from the President Street station.”

  “Thank you. Will our servant be able to accompany us in the same car? My husband is not feeling well and may need a strong arm to lean on.”

  Stroking the thin goatee on his chin, the agent considered her request. “Full price for the nigger.”

  “What is the fare for all three of us, then?” Anna said as she opened her handbag.

  “A dollar thirty-five for the fare to Baltimore, and another nine dollars and seventy-five cents to Philadelphia for the lot of you.”

  “And our servant, sir?” Anna asked again, a hint of testiness in her voice as she pushed the money into the agent’s hand. “Do I understand he may ride in the car with us?”

  “Not to worry about your slave, little lady. Ol’ Charlie Wurthington is the conductor on the Philadelphia run tonight. Lets niggers ride with their owners. But, a word of caution, if I may: Make sure he don’t bother anyone. Lots of folks don’t fancy niggers riding in the same car.”

  “Thank you, s
ir,” Anna said, stuffing the tickets into her handbag.

  “Have the slave load your baggage into the car. Train’s pulling out soon.”

  With a nudge to Billy, Anna turned and walked briskly away from the ticket counter and onto the plaza. She glanced behind her. “Stay close to us, Daniel!”

  Billy turned around to see Elijah a short distance back, pushing through the crowd with the trunk resting on his shoulder. His face was sweaty with the pain of hoisting the trunk given the injuries on his back, but Anna had kept the load as light as possible. A small hand pinched Billy’s arm. He turned back as Anna pulled him close, leaned into his shoulder, and whispered, “Thee must not look about too much. It will only draw attention.” A chill ran through him.

  The narrow plaza bustled with people. Gentlemen in fine silk suits lifted trunks and cloth satchels up the platform steps and into the filling cars. Ladies in colorful dresses and plumed hats smiled in lively conversations. The noise and busyness excited Billy. Anna hurried him along, searching for empty coaches, tugging on his arm whenever he glanced over his shoulder. Near the end of the plaza a group of people hovered around an aproned woman selling meat pies from a basket. Billy stared longingly.

  “Would thee like a meat pie?” Anna asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Billy answered shyly. “And one for—for—”

  “Yes, I know.” Anna slipped her arm away from his. He watched as she moved gracefully across the plaza and mingled easily in the crowd, smiling and chatting with the pie lady. Suddenly his heart caught in his throat. He recognized the blue cap above the other heads before he saw the uniform.

  The man stood among the crowd of pie customers. Billy watched as the woman handed the pies wrapped in white cloth to Anna, who tucked the package under her arm and hurried back to him.

  “You see him, Miss Anna, that army officer?”

  Anna nodded. “Yes, I saw him. Every train station has a provost marshal on duty, like I told thee about at the church.”

  “Them pies smell awful good.” Billy walked beside Anna. The provost marshal reminded him of his regiment, and he thought about Harry, Leighton, Charlie, Jeb, and Josh, all marching to Richmond. Were they fighting yet? Was Harry looking for him?