“I’ll be here,” Polly replied quietly.
“I be back soon,” Amari said without acknowledging Polly’s reply.
Amari disappeared into the darkness.
When Amari returned a couple of hours later, her feet were covered with mud. In her hands, however, she triumphantly held up three large, shimmering catfish.
“I don’t believe it!” Polly exclaimed. “How did you do it?”
“Fish fast. I be faster!” Amari replied with a chuckle.
“But how will we cook them?” Polly asked. “If we make a fire, someone may see us.”
“We eat raw,” Amari said with authority.
“Raw?” Polly asked. “But won’t that make us sick again?”
“Raw.” Amari took the sharp stone and cut each fish open from tip to tail. She deftly removed the bones, then cut the fish into bite-sized pieces. The heads and tails she tossed to Hushpuppy, who gobbled them greedily.
Polly made such a face that Amari had to laugh. But she picked up her portion and bit into it. “Not as bad as I thought,” she said as she swallowed carefully.
Amari bit into her own portion. She chewed slowly and deliberately. Amari woke Tidbit, who tried to turn up his nose at the idea of eating the raw and bloody fish, but his hunger took over and he gobbled his piece, even licking his fingers when he finished. Then he made a face. “You ask permission of this fish?” he asked.
“Fish happy to die for you this night,” Amari answered with a smile. “He tired of swimming.”
“Let’s see if we can get moving again,” Polly suggested.
“I got power of fish in me—feel more better,” Amari said as she tried to stand up. She was genuinely surprised when Polly reached out and grabbed her hand to help. The two girls looked at each other with renewed understanding.
Amari and Tidbit helped to bury the fish bones, and the three of them prepared, with fresh determination, to continue in the darkness.
34. LOST HUSH PUPPY
AS DAYS WENT BY, AMARI HAD NO FURTHER luck at catching more fish. She was starting to feel overwhelmed with exhaustion. Her head hurt all the time, and even though the others seemed to have recuperated from the mayapple incident, she didn’t want to tell them that she still felt dizzy and nauseous.
The forest had thinned, and hiding places were getting harder to find. Occasionally, Amari heard wagons on the road to the east of them and the sounds of farmers or their slaves working nearby, so the trio moved only in the darkest of night and thus made very poor time as they traveled.
Amari didn’t try to find any more berries or fruit, worried that she would make them all sick again. Instead of eating, hunger ate at them. One evening, just before sunset, Amari stumbled over a fallen log and toppled to the ground in a heap. “Ow!” she cried as she rubbed her foot.
“Are you hurt?” Polly asked, concern in her voice.
“No, feet just be tired of walkin’,” Amari replied with a short laugh. She leaned against the log, planning to get back to her feet, when something made her decide to look underneath it. Dozens of insects, worms, and grubs squirmed in the unaccustomed light. Amari took a deep breath and grabbed a handful of white, soft grubs. “Safe to eat,” she said, “I think.” She closed her eyes, put some in her mouth, and chewed slowly. “Taste like chicken,” she said, trying to make Tidbit smile.
She offered Tidbit and Polly some grubs as well, and surprisingly, they ate them without complaint, as well as some of the earthworms. It was a matter of survival.
Night after night they walked, afraid of every hoot of the owl and howl of the coyote. Some nights they crossed small streams, which gave them a chance to refresh themselves, quench their thirst, and soothe their aching feet. Sometimes they found small water creatures like crabs or clams to eat. By day they tried to sleep—under logs, in caves, in thickets. Their faces, arms, and legs became hardened with insect bites and scratches. Amazingly, however, they had heard no voices, met no other humans in the woods, nor were chased by patrollers who were looking for runaways. Perhaps Cato had been right, Amari thought.
One morning, just as dawn broke and they hurried to find a hiding place for the day, Tidbit cried out in alarm. “Where is Hushpuppy?”
Most of the time Amari scarcely noticed the dog—he rarely strayed far from Tidbit.
“Hushpuppy must be looking for a mouse for his dinner,” Polly said to Tidbit.
“Can I call him?” Tidbit asked tearfully. “Maybe he be lost.”
“No, child. You can make no noise. Too dangerous,” Amari told him. “Hushpuppy come back.”
Polly tried to console him as well. “A dog can always find the boy he loves. He’ll be back.”
But the dog did not return that morning, or by that afternoon or that evening. At that point Tidbit began to cry. He refused to get up and prepare for the night’s travel.
“Hushpuppy will find us,” Polly tried to tell him. “He found us all the way from Mr. Derby’s house, didn’t he?”
“I ain’t goin’ without Hushpuppy.” Tidbit spoke to the dirt he dug his fingers into.
“Tidbit, we gotta go now,” Amari said a little impatiently as she lifted the child to his feet. “Hushpuppy gonna come back.” They headed out once more, but Tidbit dragged his feet and kept turning around to look for the dog.
The nights had grown more difficult lately, for the warmth of the sun during the day barely lasted past dark, leaving the nights cold and clammy. “Rain soon,” Amari commented as she clutched Tidbit’s hand, almost dragging him along. In her other hand she carried the sharpened stick, which she used as a walking staff.
“Rain will feel good,” Polly said tiredly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so dirty!”
“Hushpuppy never find me now,” Tidbit wailed miserably.
Amari leaned down and picked Tidbit up, wrapping his legs around her waist, and they headed south into the wet, damp night. Amari began to wonder if she was doing the right thing. It had been her decision to come south, and she was feeling increasingly responsible for them all. What if they were simply going in circles? What if Fort Mose didn’t even exist? And she was tired, so very tired.
She also didn’t know how to console Tidbit, who was crying softly and begging for his mother and his dog. Finally, when she feared she could not take one more step, they came to a small cave. Amari looked at it as if it were a castle.
“Do you think it’s safe to build a fire?” Polly asked. Polly, too, was trembling with cold.
“Think so,” Amari replied.
“Do you know how to start a fire?” Polly asked then.
Amari looked around the floor of the cave. “Not sure. Not like home.”
Polly grew thoughtful. “My father used to boast he could start a fire with just a stick, a leaf, and a shiny bug!”
“Sound like tall tale,” Amari said with a smile.
“Well, we have to try something,” Polly said as she began to gather dry twigs from the back of the cave, looking hopeful. Amari found a big branch and dragged it to the center.
With lightning quickness, Amari began rubbing her sharp stick between her hands, twirling it in the center of a larger branch, the way she remembered her mother doing it. But nothing happened. Her fingertips, numb from the damp, chilly air, weren’t able to twist the stick fast enough. In her homeland she had started many fires, but usually with a burning stick from someone’s cooking fire. Even Teenie’s kitchen had a fire that never went out—those hot coals had been carefully tended at night.
Still, she rubbed and rubbed. Polly and Tidbit hovered close. After what seemed to be a very long time, a faint whisper of smoke snaked up from the twigs and leaves. Amari blew on it gently, and soon a small flame flickered in the darkness.
“Fire,” Amari said quietly.
“Glory be,” Polly whispered. She slowly fed the flames leaves and small sticks until it became large enough to ease their shakes and shivers.
Amari gloried in its warmth, for her head felt t
hick, like it had been packed with straw. She felt weak and dizzy. She knew she had to find them some real food soon.
“Maybe we use gun to get food?” she asked Polly tentatively.
“We only have one shot,” Polly reminded her. “Suppose we miss or someone hears it and finds us?”
Amari nodded reluctantly.
“Do any animals live here, do you think?” Polly asked as they stared into the flames.
“Maybe animal share with us this night,” Amari said with a half smile.
Tidbit fell into a fitful sleep in Amari’s arms, his face drawn.
Amari sat close to Polly for warmth and companionship, looking at the fire, thinking not of the horrendous fire that had destroyed her village, but of the smoky cooking fires that decorated the front of each household as the women prepared the evening meal. If she closed her eyes, she could almost smell the pungent fish stew.
Suddenly, Amari could hear the footsteps of an animal pacing outside of the cave. She grabbed Polly’s arm, and they peered into the darkness. They could get only glimpses of the creature, but it seemed to have a huge, furry head. And it seemed to be looking for a way to get past the fire. It smelled of wet fur and fresh blood.
“Fox?” Amari whispered.
“Foxes have small heads; this one is huge, whatever it is,” Polly whispered back anxiously.
“Could be bobcat,” Amari guessed.
“Maybe we are in its home,” Polly offered. “I don’t think it wants us here.”
Amari looked around nervously. “We got ’nuff wood to keep fire going?”
“Not much,” Polly replied softly. “Where is your stick?”
Amari looked stricken. “In fire. What if it be bear?”
The animal continued to pace. As the fire dwindled, the two girls huddled even closer together. The animal edged forward. Amari barely breathed. The scraping and sniffing and growling sounds were right at the entrance now.
Suddenly, the creature bounded over the fire. The girls screamed.
Tidbit startled awake and shouted with joy, “Hushpuppy!” The dog dropped what it had been carrying and leaped joyfully on the boy.
Amari, so relieved that it wasn’t a bear, started laughing. “I never be so glad to see a dog!”
“Where you been?” Tidbit asked the excited dog. He ran over to the thing Hushpuppy had been carrying and dragged it over to the girls. It was the biggest, fattest rabbit any of them had ever seen.
“So that’s why we didn’t recognize him!” Polly commented. “He looked so much bigger carrying that.”
“And he smell like blood,” Amari said as she examined the rabbit.
“We gonna eat it raw like the fish?” Tidbit asked with a grimace.
The thought of another meal of raw meat made Amari feel utterly queasy. “No, little one. We cook. We be safe in cave for now.”
Polly and Tidbit ran out of the cave and searched under logs for dry twigs to feed the fire. Amari found a sharp rock and was able to skin the rabbit, careful to save any part of it that might be helpful on their journey. The skin would make a good pouch, and she remembered her mother once saying that the entrails could be dried and used as string. Hushpuppy was given a huge pile of the leftover parts, which he ate with gusto.
Amari carefully pierced the meat with a stick Tidbit had triumphantly brought her, and after the fire had been built up again, each girl took turns slowly turning it until it was cooked to perfection. Even the drippings were saved. They ate well for the first time since they had begun their journey.
Licking his fingers, Tidbit said softly, “I miss my mama.”
Amari pulled him close. A sudden image of her own mother and all that she had lost overpowered Amari for a moment. Tonight, however, she reminded herself, she must concentrate not on what was lost, but on what must be found.
35. DIRT AND CLAY
THE NEXT EVENING, FEELING FULL OF ENERGY, the three young travelers headed out with renewed enthusiasm. The forest had turned to deep pine, the tall evergreens casting thin shadows from the moonlight. In the distance lights from farmhouses flickered.
“Hushpuppy seems to know he is the hero of the moment,” Polly said with a smile as the dog bounded after every unfortunate rabbit or squirrel that crossed their path. “But he’s too full to catch much now.”
Amari laughed softly. Tidbit chased the dog merrily, his high spirits returned, and they all seemed to relax as they made their way slowly through the cool, dark night. They crossed another shallow waterway, where the soft river mud soothed their tired feet.
For four more nights they traveled smoothly, heading ever farther away from the plantation of Percival Derby. They had no more huge feasts, but the leftover pieces of the cooked rabbit lasted a few days, and roots and tubers were plentiful every time they reached a river. Amari was glad that it was not the rainy season—the small streams they crossed would have been roaring rivers. In addition, Amari figured out a way to catch crayfish in the shallows, the tangy flesh a delicious treat as they began their seemingly unending nighttime treks.
But she was tired—tired of walking, of being uncertain, and of feeling sick all the time. Every muscle in her body cried out for rest. The night was unusually warm, and Amari had broken out in a sweat. She didn’t think she could keep this up much longer. She had no way of knowing how far they had gone or how much farther they still had to travel. She had nothing to grab on to for support. It reminded her of being on the ship, where it was impossible to determine time or place—just the endless sea.
She was fearful also, but she did not want to share her worries with the others. What would happen if they were found? She wiped her brow and tried to think positively, showing brave smiles to Polly and Tidbit. Just as she let herself relax, however, her worst fears became reality.
As they walked on, Amari could see nothing but shadows—some lighter than others. The trees—long, slim silhouettes—seemed to guide them most of the time, but sometimes the branches looked like arms with hands of many fingers, ready to attack.
And then, suddenly, the branches of a short, sturdy tree moved. Just as Amari jumped, one branch grabbed her wrist. She cried out and tried to pull her arm free. Polly instantly grasped Tidbit’s hand and pulled him into the darkness.
Amari screamed again and tried to turn, but she couldn’t get free. Then she heard a voice full of venom and danger.
“Where do you think you’re going?” As Amari twisted to escape, she found herself face-to-face with Clay Derby.
“Let me go!” Amari exploded, but Clay held her arm as firmly as the shackles she had once worn as he pulled her close to the trunk of the tree.
“I been looking for you and that white girl you run off with for a long time now,” Clay drawled. “My father would have been proud of me, God rest his soul.”
“How you find?” Amari asked in furious frustration.
“Wasn’t hard. You leave footprints the size of a horse.” He laughed with disdain, spat on the ground, and pulled a rope from his doublet. He first tied Amari’s arms together, then tied her to the tree, pressing himself against her to keep her still.
“How you know where to look?” she wanted to know.
“Oh, the doctor made up that cock-and-bull story about highwaymen and seeing you all head north. But he is a poor excuse for a liar. Everybody went north looking for you, but I figured you might try something stupid like running south.”
“Why you care?” Amari asked with quiet anger.
“You are mine, gal.” His leer turned into a confused scowl. “I have missed you, Myna,” he admitted. “Didn’t you miss me a little? I thought you liked me.” He touched her face gently.
In spite of her fury, Amari was amazed at the plaintive tone in his voice. “Why you not just let me be?” she asked angrily.
Clay leaned over very close to her face. “Because I aim to reclaim what’s mine. You hear me, Myna?”
Amari took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and this time it w
as her turn to spit. She spat directly in his face. Clay roared and slapped her so hard that her head bounced back against the tree trunk. She felt herself fading into a faint, but she felt victorious. Clay slapped her again, bringing her back to full consciousness. Amari glared at him.
From the shadows, Amari heard Hushpuppy growl.
“Where is the child?” Clay asked Amari as he looked around.
Amari looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Dead,” she said emphatically.
“I don’t think so,” Clay replied calmly. “That would save me the trouble of dashing his head against a tree. I followed your footprints, remember?”
Amari struggled against the ropes. She had never been so angry. If he hurt Tidbit, she would kill him, she vowed.
“And where is the white girl?” Clay asked as he watched her struggle. He seemed to be amused.
“She leave us—go north,” Amari lied.
“You know, you’re as poor a liar as the doctor,” Clay told her as he ran his hand down her arm. “I shall enjoy punishing you when we return to Derbyshire Farms. I am master there now, you know. My father died suddenly—not long after you ran off.”
“Massa Derby dead?” Amari asked with surprise. She wondered if Mrs. Derby had breathed a sigh of relief. Amari lowered her head. Is it wrong to be glad that someone is dead? she thought.
“Yes, the doctor said it was his heart, but I believe he was poisoned,” Clay said ominously.
Amari peered into the darkness and prayed that Polly and Tidbit would not try to save her and get caught themselves. Again she heard Hushpuppy growl from the darkness of the woods, quietly but with menace.
“What happen when we go back?” Amari asked, trying to keep Clay talking.
“Oh, you’ll be punished severely—perhaps a brand on your face or maybe the removal of a finger or toe. I have not yet decided.”
Amari felt her heart quicken, but she refused to let Clay see that she was scared.
“I fully intend to teach you the folly of trying to run away from me. But tonight,” he said, his voice dropping low, “I intend to make up for lost time. I really have missed you, gal.” He stroked her leg, and Amari kicked at him.
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