Hidden in the Trees (Bellingwood Stotries #1)

by Diane Greenwood Muir

  "We learned this in class, didn't we Andrew," Polly said to the young boy. "Do you remember your recitation?"

  He looked up at both women and they could see his mind working. "It was in the Declaration of Independence, wasn't it?"

  "That's right," Polly agreed. "How does the second paragraph begin? Can you remember?"

  The little boy thought for a moment, his lips moving as he remembered the words.

  He stuttered through the opening phrases, as he worked to get to the point he knew they were trying to make, "When through the course of human events ... impel them to the separation."

  "Oh, I remember," he said, and continued, sitting up straight between them and taking on an air of authority, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

  "Very good," Daniel said from across the table. "A long time ago, my mother used to sit us down at night and tell us that someday we would be free, that the people of this country would remember their history and would be unable to live with themselves for the terrible thing they had done to the Negroes they brought to serve them. But, then she also taught us that God had a purpose for each one of us and that we were to do our best no matter where we were. I did my best until I couldn't live with what they might do to my little boy and then I ran away."

  "How long ago did you leave?" Jason asked.

  "We've been on the move for weeks, it seems," Nelly said. "We mostly hide during the day and travel at night. There have been a few farmers along the way who saw us and gave us food and a place to sleep. But then," she stopped talking and her husband picked up from there.

  "We ran one night after a farmer set his dogs on us. He yelled terrible things. I didn't know if we would get away from them. He followed for a while with his shotgun, threatening to shoot us and bring in the slave catchers to take our hides back to our owner."

  "How did you get away?" Andrew asked, his mouth open at the story.

  Nelly's eyes filled with tears, as if the experience was happening in her mind again. "We crossed a creek and came to another farmer's land. I don't know how far that man chased us. I thought my legs were going to fall off and I knew I couldn't run very much farther. Daniel was carrying Jonah and all of a sudden we saw cows behind a fence. I knew I would rather take my chances with them than with those dogs."

  Daniel continued, "The dogs stopped at the creek and we snuck around those cows. Nelly talked to them for what seemed like hours, asking them to let us be part of their herd, just until we caught our breath. We followed the fence for another day. They were out far in that pasture and we finally came to a road. We stayed off the road, but followed it north and then we found a river. That's how we've been traveling. If we stay close to the river, I can sometimes catch a fish.

  "Nelly took some matches from the mistress and some nights we have a fire, but not very often because we don't want anyone to see us."

  "How often have you run into the slave catchers?" Andrew asked.

  "This is the first time they got so close to us. I was waiting for them to push past you into the barn. We curled up behind some hay bales, but I didn't know if they would find us."

  "We heard them one night about a week ago," Nelly reminded him. "Jonah was fussing that night and we hid in the shed behind a church. It was the first time we'd had a roof over our heads and I could barely move. The preacher was walking home from evening services and got stopped by those men. They asked him about us and he must have convinced them that he hadn't seen us."

  "He hadn't, had he?" Andrew asked.

  "No, we didn't feel comfortable telling anyone we were there, we just hid in the shed. But that night my heart felt right. We listened to the congregation singing and they were some of the same songs that we sang when I lived down south. It was like God told me he was still around," Nelly said.

  "The slave catchers walked along with the preacher," Daniel interjected. "We heard their voices fade away as they walked and hoped that we would be safe."

  "Were they gone then?" from Andrew again.

  "They were. They'd moved on north. They were ahead of us for a while."

  Sylvie spoke. "They were here before my boys found you at the creek. They were frustrated and offered me a reward. I'm sure your former master is paying them good money and they don't want to lose it."

  "Yes ma'am. He probably is." Nelly said.

  "We're going to do our best to get you on your way. Have you traveled with the Underground Railroad yet?" Ellis asked.

  "No. We hoped to find them when we got north, but haven't found the right connection yet."

  "You have now. You've come a little far north of the main route, so I'm going to take you down to it. From there, you will have help getting across Iowa. You don't have to do this alone any longer," he replied.

  Nelly slumped against her husband and this time the tears began to flow.

  Daniel said, "We heard that there would be good folk up here, but didn't know if we would ever find them. All we could do was keep pressing north and hope that we'd know when we got into Canada. Thank you for helping us."

  Ellis stood up from the table. "Jason and I need to harness the horses to the wagon. Mrs. Donovan, do you have everything packed?"

  "I do," she replied, standing up. "I have a basket for you on the trip tonight. There is food and several pouches of water. I'll bring that out."

  She picked up a basket and placed it on the table. Then, she motioned to Polly, who pulled a satchel up to the table.

  "This contains some jerky and bread and some chicken. I have also added some other things that should help make your trip a little more comfortable. It won't last forever, but it should get you to the next stop or so."

  Nelly crossed the room after handing Jonah to her husband. She put her arms out as if to hug Sylvie, who met her and pulled her close.

  "Thank you!" she cried and pulled the woman into a tighter hug. "God will bless your soul for this kindness you've done for me and my family."

  Ellis and Jason left the house and Sylvie said, "Andrew, would you go to the root cellar and gather up the blankets and pillows they used last night. We are going to put them in the wagon to keep everyone warm and to offer a little protection."

  He opened the door and went outside into the cool evening. He really wanted to ride to Des Moines with his brother, but he also knew that they would be traveling very fast and they already had a little boy to deal with. It was times like this that he wished he was older and people would trust him to do the right thing.

  When he came up out of the cellar with a second load of blankets, his teacher was standing there with the first load in her arms.

  "We know you want to go with them tonight, Andrew," she said. "And I'm proud of you for not pressing your mother about it. This ride might not be very safe and they have to go as fast as they can."

  "Yes ma'am," he said.

  She took the blankets out of his arms. "You still don't agree with us, do you?"

  He looked at the ground, "No ma'am. I could help."

  "Maybe you could, but who would do the chores for your mother while you were gone? With Jason and Ellis gone, someone has to be here to make sure that everything is taken care of. That someone is you."

  "Feeding chickens isn't very interesting," he muttered.

  Polly knelt down in front of him. "If you hadn't fed chickens, what would your mother have cooked tonight for this meal? How would she have eggs enough to make all of the things she bakes? If you didn't milk those cows, how would she be able to make butter or serve fresh milk with the pies she bakes?"

  "I know," he said. He started back down into the cellar. "I have to get the pillows."

  "I'll be waiting for you. And Andrew?" she asked.

  He stopped and looked back up at her.

  "Sometimes you don't know how important you are when you are in the middle of
doing your normal everyday tasks, but you are very important and you have been wonderful today. Your mother is proud of you and so am I."

  He knew that everything she said was true and decided that if he had to stay in Bellingwood while his older brother went away, he would make the best of it. He picked up the pillows and went back up to meet his teacher.

  They walked back to the house and went inside to wait for Jason and Ellis to arrive with the wagon.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Each eye came open, first the right and then the left. Andrew sat up and rolled his neck. He'd fallen asleep while doing his homework and couldn't believe his mother hadn't woke him to go to bed. He touched his face and felt the imprint of the book he'd been reading.

  Wait. What book had he been reading? Where was he?

  He rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out where he was. Nothing made sense.

  The light over the desk shone in his eyes when he looked toward the ceiling. Shelves were filled with his favorite books. He jumped up and ran toward the door at the bottom of the stairway.

  "Polly! Polly!" he called out as he ran up to her apartment. Her two cats, Luke and Leia were perched on their cat tree and her big dog, Obiwan, rushed in from the living room to greet him.

  When Andrew got to the top of the steps, Obiwan sat down in front of him and waited for the boy to wrestle.

  "Get out of my way, Obiwan! I have to tell Polly what just happened!"

  He ran into her living room, calling her name, "Polly! Polly!"

  He didn't see her anywhere.

  Andrew and his older brother, Jason, spent their days at Sycamore House, an old school building that Polly Giller had renovated in Bellingwood, Iowa. Their mother, Sylvie, was the chef and was finishing her degree at the community college. He could hardly wait until she was finished, because she promised that when she graduated they would be able to afford a real house and could move out of the small apartment they were living in.

  He turned to Obiwan, "Where’s Polly?" he asked.

  The dog wagged his tail and jumped up on the sofa.

  Andrew ran out the front door of Polly's apartment and down the main steps of Sycamore House.

  "Polly!" he called when he hit the first floor. "Where are you?"

  Jeff Lyndsey, Polly's assistant, stepped out from his office. "What's up, Andrew? Is everything okay? Are you hurt or something?"

  "No, I'm fine. Where's Polly?"

  Jeff glanced back into the offices and said, "She's not in there, maybe she went down to the barn."

  Without another word, Andrew dashed through the side door and ran down to the barn. He saw Polly talking with the man who helped her take care of the four big Percheron horses she had rescued, Eliseo Aquila. Jason was up in the saddle on Nat.

  He started running toward them, but Polly stepped forward and said, "Slow down! What's up?"

  "I have to tell you what just happened to me!"

  Concern filled her face. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She walked toward him, crossing the pen where they exercised the horses. Eliseo and Jason followed her.

  "No, I'm fine! I just have to tell you about my dream! It was so real! You were all there!"

  Jason rolled his eyes. "He's always trying to make things up and tell us that he dreamed them. I think he just wants attention."

  Polly frowned at the older boy. "Just because he doesn't do the same things you do doesn't mean his thoughts and dreams aren't important."

  "What was your dream about, Andrew?" she asked.

  "It was so cool. I dreamed about slaves and slave catchers. You were a teacher in a one-room school house and Jason had to stop going to school because he had to plow the fields. We had two big, black horses, just like Nat and Nan and there was a man named Ellis in my dreams and the Sheriff was there and a whole bunch of people I didn't know, too."

  Polly put her hand on Andrew's back and turned him so they were walking up to Sycamore House. He barely stopped to take a breath as he told her about his dream.

  "We lived in a little house. Jason and I had to sleep upstairs on a feather bed, just like in the olden days. It was the olden days! I had to milk cows and feed the chickens.

  "I even saw Mrs. Watson! She was a painter and showed me pictures of all of these cities she'd been to. The General Store was there and Mr. Ivins put flour and sugar in my cart and told me that Mom could sell her homemade bread and pies in his store.

  "We had a cellar where Mom stored all of the food she canned. That's where we hid the slaves until we could get them out of town.

  "There were bad men called slave catchers. I stood up to them, though. At least until Jason showed up. He's growing up, Polly."

  "Yes he is,” she agreed. “What else happened in your dream?"

  "Sheriff Merritt came and took those men away because they were threatening me. You had a rolling pin and mom had a skillet."

  He laughed, "I don't know what you guys were going to do with those things, but you looked mean and mad. Then, after Mom made fried chicken, the slaves got in a wagon and Jason and Ellis were going to take them down to Des Moines to meet up with some people that would take them across Iowa on the Underground Railroad.”

  Andrew took a breath and kept going. "Did you know that it really isn't a railroad? Did you know that only sometimes they are underground? Did you know that people treated other people like property because their skin was a different color?"

  They arrived at her office and she motioned for him to go on in. He sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk and Polly dropped into her own chair.

  "That's quite a dream. Why do you think you were dreaming about all of this?"

  Andrew took another deep breath and considered her question. "I fell asleep at my desk under the stairs. I was reading a book about Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad, but I didn't get very far. That must have been why I was dreaming about it."

  "That's a lot of detail to remember from the dream," Polly said. "I never remember that much."

  "I do," Andrew responded. "I like to dream."

  "Have you ever written any of your dreams down?" she asked.

  "Sometimes, but not very often. Jason says they're stupid." He nodded. "Usually they are."

  "Well, this dream doesn't sound very stupid. Maybe you should start from the beginning and we will turn it into a story. What do you think about that?"

  Andrew loved to read and write. Polly usually saw him with a notebook in his hand as he jotted down things that were interesting to him.

  "You would write it with me?" he asked.

  "I can help you write it. But you will do most of the work. It's going to be your story."

  "Do you think someone will publish it?"

  "Why don't we get it written first, then we can talk about publishing it. I will speak with Annabelle down at the newspaper. If it's interesting enough, she might put a little bit in the paper each week. But, first, let's see what you come up with."

  “That’s what happened in my dream! You, I mean, Miss Giller, well …” he looked up at her and smiled, “anyway, you put some of my stories in the newspaper!”

  Polly grinned back at him, typed a few keystrokes and said, "Tell me about the people in your dream. You were there and Jason and your mom."

  "And you and the Sheriff and some kids at school. There was one kid who I remembered in the dream, but I've never known anyone like him. He was already gone away to college. There was Mr. Ivins and Mrs. Watson and then the two slave catchers. And then there was Daniel and Nelly and little Jonah."

  She typed furiously as he spoke.

  When he grew silent, she peered at him. His face had fallen.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  "I was just thinking about the package Mr. Ivins gave me to take to my mom. We didn’t open it. Now I'll never know what was in there."

  Polly chuckled and asked, "What?"

  "After I did my chores one morning, Mom sent me to the General Store to pick up a parcel from
my Uncle Robbie. There was always a book for me in every package he ever sent. I’ll never know what book it was now."

  "Your Uncle Robbie?" she asked. "I didn't know you had an uncle."

  "I didn't either," Andrew laughed. "I must have made him up. Anyway he sent us a package and we were supposed to open it, but then all of this other stuff happened and we forgot about it. I wish I knew what book he was going to send me. I'd read it now."

  "What kind of book do you want it to be?" she asked.

  "One with a lot of adventure," he said. "Maybe some Indians or something like that."

  "Then I know exactly what book your Uncle Robbie would have sent to you. I have it upstairs and I'll let you borrow it."

  "What is it?" he asked.

  "I’ll surprise you when we go upstairs for a snack. I think you'll love the story. Now, tell me about where your dream was located."

  "It was right here!" he exclaimed.

  "What do you mean right here? In Bellingwood?"

  "Yes, in Bellingwood, but right here where Sycamore House is at. The creek back there is where Jason stuck his head in the cold water and down back there," he pointed toward the back of the building, "is where we found Daniel and Nelly and their little boy. There was a barn and back there,” this time he pointed back toward the big kitchen on the other side of Sycamore House “was a hole in the ground where we stored food that mom canned.”

  "I walked up the road just like the one out front except that it was smaller and it was made out of dirt. There wasn't any pavement back then," he assured her.

  "Mrs. Watson lived in an apartment over the bank. Do you know where that little doorway is right beside the bank? I went up those stairs and went into her apartment so I could sell her some eggs. Polly, she got a dozen eggs and we only charged her a dime! I took a dollar to the General Store and got lots of things for my mom and he even gave me five cents back."

  "Money was different back then, wasn't it?" Polly said, continuing to type as he spoke.