Uncle Andrew looked at me with a serious expression, his eyebrows pushed together in a thoughtful frown. “Jack, I’ve asked myself that question time and time again. Is it wrong? Well, let me ask you a question. Was Rahab wrong?”
I thought about it, but I couldn’t remember who Rahab was. I shrugged and said, “Rahab was in the Old Testament, right?”
He smiled sympathetically. “The story of Rahab is in Joshua, chapter 2. She hid a couple of Joshua’s spies, then lied to her king’s men to protect them. Was she wrong?”
“I don’t know. Was she?”
“People have been debating that question for centuries,” Uncle Andrew replied. “On one hand, she lied. On the other hand, she protected two of God’s men. Do you remember what happened? God brought the walls of Jericho down for Joshua and the Israelites. Because of Rahab’s faithfulness, she was saved by Joshua.”
“So they rewarded her for lying?” I asked.
Uncle Andrew nodded. “It seems that way. And there’s an even more interesting twist to the story.”
“What?”
“Read Matthew, chapter 1. Rahab was an ancestor of King David, and in turn she was related to Jesus Himself. The apostle Paul even considered her a hero of the faith for what she’d done. What do you make of that?”
I didn’t know what to make of it. “Are you saying that lying is okay?”
“Not necessarily,” he replied. “God prohibits ‘bearing false witness,’ which means lying about your neighbor to bring unjust punishment against him. Rahab did not lie in that sense. Likewise, I am not breaking a commandment by what I do. I say what I say not to bring harm to anyone or to bring personal gain to myself, but to free men from their bondage.”
We rode on silently while I thought about it. I kept thinking about it all the way through dinner, bedtime, and breakfast the next morning.
As we got ready to go to Colonel Ross’s plantation, I told Uncle Andrew what I thought about his explanation.
“I’m still not so sure about it,” I said.
He smiled and clapped me on the back. “I thought that’s what you’d say.”
I waited to see if he had another answer.
His smiled faded and he looked deep into my face. “Jack, may God judge me if I’m wrong. But I am willing to risk His wrath to set these slaves free.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Matt tells about his confession.
OKAY, I NEED TO tell you right up front that it was hard working in Colonel Ross’s house. Just in the couple of days I was there, I worked until every muscle in my body hurt. At night, when Jonah said I could go to bed, I barely had the energy to wash my face before I collapsed onto that straw mattress and snoozed away.
We—I mean, the house slaves—were the first ones up in the morning, even before sunrise, to milk the cows and get breakfast ready for the Colonel and his wife. There were logs to split and the house animals to be fed (except Scout; he only let Eveline feed him). Then we dug in the garden, swept the porches, set the dining room for the next meal, polished silver, and washed clothes—and I’m not talking about using a washing machine. We had to use a washboard and tub, scrubbing and scrubbing until our hands were all pruney. I was exhausted. Eveline, Jonah, Lizzie, and the other house slaves acted like there was nothing to it. If they were tired, they never let on, and they didn’t complain.
Eveline amazed me. I don’t know where she got all her energy. Only a couple of times did I see her standing still by the back door or a window, looking out with a sad look on her face. She was thinking about her dad, I knew.
The whole time I was working, I had to keep reminding myself that I was doing it so I could come up with a plan to help Eveline see her father again. That’s why I came back. But I wasn’t sure how to do it.
I also kept wondering where Jack was. Did the Imagination Station take him back to Reverend Andrew? If it did, why didn’t he come to rescue us? Every time a wagon drove up or someone knocked on the door, I kept expecting it to be him and Reverend Andrew. But he didn’t show up.
I imagined him hanging out with the white folks, eating a lot of good food and being able to do whatever he wanted. It didn’t seem fair. It wasn’t fair. Just because the color of our skin was different didn’t make it right for him to be better off.
Jonah was friendly the whole time, teaching us what to do. And he told us over and over to thank God for having it so good. That was hard for me to do considering all the work we did, but he said it was a lot worse on the other plantations. “Colonel Ross is a good and kind man,” Jonah insisted. “There’s no better master in the area. He takes care of his slaves.”
“But we’re still slaves,” I reminded him.
He simply wagged a finger at me and told me to watch my mouth. “It’s going to get you in big trouble, you hear?”
I mumbled that what I said was still true.
“There’s no other master who brings in a doctor for his slaves or puts them in such nice quarters and never uses the whip unless somebody really deserves it, and he even tries to keep the families together. No other master does that. But he does.”
I didn’t say a word, but that last part he said about keeping families together gave me an idea.
After breakfast on the third morning (I think it was the third morning, but I lost count), Jonah was upset because one of the field slaves had been disobedient about his work. I guess he pretended to be sick and then was found later behind one of the sheds, goofing off.
Kinsey, the overseer, brought the slave to the back door. “Jonah! I don’t have time to deal with him. You know what to do.”
“Yes, Master Kinsey,” Jonah said in a shaky voice.
I found out later that one of the reasons the field slaves didn’t like the house slaves was because the house slaves were sometimes told to whip the field slaves.
Jonah, who was carrying a tray of tea for the Colonel, pushed it into my hands. “Take this to the study,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
As I turned to go, I heard Jonah stomp down the back stairs and say to the disobedient slave, “Why do you make me have to do this? You know I hate it. You know it makes me cry. Why can’t you behave so I won’t have to whip you, boy?”
I carried the heavy tray through the house and into Colonel Ross’s study. He was leaning over some ledgers, concentrating hard, when I put the tea next to him.
“Your tea, sir,” I said.
I guess he was expecting the voice to belong to Jonah and it surprised him to hear mine. He looked up and smiled, and his teeth glistened through his mustache and chin beard. “Thanks, son,” he answered.
I didn’t move away as I was supposed to. I had something I wanted to say. But I was scared and it took me a minute to get my nerves together. Outside, dark clouds rolled in and I heard some distant thunder.
“Is there something you want?” the Colonel asked.
I shuffled my feet a little. “Colonel—er, Master Ross? I was wondering if we could…uh, talk, just for a minute.”
“Talk?”
“I mean, you seem like a nice guy and I thought maybe I could be honest with you about something.”
Colonel leaned back from his desk and gave me his full attention. “Honest? Honest about what?”
I fiddled with the buttons on my jacket and worked up my courage. “The truth is…I’m not a slave.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No, sir. I’m free. I’ve always been free. The slave traders grabbed me and made me come here and then sold me, even though I told them I was free.” There. It was out. I waited to see what he’d do.
The Colonel hit his palms against the top of his desk. “No! The scoundrels! How could they do that to you?”
I relaxed. “I don’t know, but they did. You believe me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” The Colonel was on his feet in an instant and the size of him—he was big—made me a little nervous again. He rushed to the door and called out to whoever was
in hearing distance. “I want Jonah in here right away!”
“Jonah?” I asked. “But he doesn’t know anything about it.”
The Colonel waved at me to stay put. “Listen, son, Jonah’s going to help me get to the bottom of this. For one thing, I want him to call Kinsey in from the fields. Kinsey knows those slave traders. If there’s something illegal going on, I want to get to hear about it. Now, tell me what happened.”
I was so relieved that I told him just about everything—about Eveline, Clarence, Odyssey, and how the slave traders grabbed us and brought us south. I told him everything except the part about Jack and the Imagination Station, since I didn’t want him to think I was completely crazy. By the time I finished, Jonah showed up at the study door.
“Yes, Master?” he asked, his body still shaking from the whipping he had just given that field slave.
“Jonah,” the Colonel said, “step forward, please.”
Jonah did, until he was standing next to my chair. He looked down at me, and I could tell he was confused. He knew something was going on but couldn’t figure out what it was.
The Colonel sat down behind his desk again. “I want you to take this boy and teach him a thing or two about lying.”
“Lying!” I cried out.
Jonah grabbed me by the shirt and said sadly, “I knew it. It was just a matter of time.”
“But—” I tried to get out words of protest, but nothing came.
“And, boy,” the Colonel said to me, “I suggest you keep your mouth shut in the future. Nobody here likes to think our fellow Southern gentlemen are cheats.”
“Come on, son,” Jonah said and yanked me out of the room and through the house.
“No! No!” I cried the whole way. I squirmed, but Jonah’s grip was like a vise.
“I told you, boy. I told you to keep your mouth shut. Now look what you’ve gone and done. I get done with one, and now I have to deal with another.”
Going through the kitchen, I saw Eveline rush forward to help me, but Jonah stopped her. “Nothing you can do, child. There’s nothing you can do.”
He dragged me down the back stairs to the same spot where he had whipped the field slave. Drops of sweat still spotted the dirt under our feet.
“No, Jonah, don’t,” I pleaded. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help!”
He tied my hands to the hitching post. He sounded as if he was going to cry. “I warned you, son. I warned you.”
He picked up a long, slender switch. Thunder rolled above, and rain started to fall.
CHAPTER SIX
Jack tells about their arrival.
UNCLE ANDREW AND I got to Colonel Ross’s plantation late in the morning. The carriage pulled up the drive as the rain stopped. We climbed out, and Uncle Andrew gave the driver instructions to take our belongings to an inn about a quarter of a mile up the road. As we walked to the stairs leading to the door, we passed a puddle of mud. I glanced down at it, trying to be careful not to step in, when Uncle Andrew gave me a slight nudge. It was just enough to knock me off balance and I fell on my knees—right in the mud.
“Hey!” I called out. “Why’d you do that?”
“You’ll see,” Uncle Andrew said.
The front door opened and a wiry, old servant with a worried look greeted us. We stepped into the front hallway as Uncle Andrew introduced himself. The servant’s eye fell to the mud all over my pants, then back to Uncle Andrew. “I’ll announce your arrival to the Colonel,” he said before he shuffled off.
Colonel Ross came down the hall and I was surprised by how big he was. He wasn’t heavy, just tall. And he had long curly hair, a mustache, and one of those little beards that stuck out from his chin. “The ornithologist!” he said. “I heard you were in the area. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Alexander Ross.”
“This is my nephew Jack,” Uncle Andrew said.
“An honor, Jack,” the Colonel said, then looked down at the mud on my pants. “Did you have an accident?”
“Well, I—”
“Yes,” Uncle Andrew cut in. “He tripped as we approached the porch. Would you mind if—”
“Jonah, take the young master here to the kitchen to see if you can wipe the mud off,” Colonel Ross said.
“Yes, sir,” Jonah replied and signaled me to follow him.
The Colonel invited Uncle Andrew into the family room, while we walked in the opposite direction down the hall.
In the kitchen, a black woman with a scarf on her head was busy getting lunch ready. She hardly looked at me. The servant named Jonah led me to a large tub of water, grabbed a rag, and knelt down to wipe at the mud on my pants and shoes.
“I’ll do it,” I said.
“No, sir. I’ll do it.”
It didn’t take long for me to realize that Uncle Andrew knocked me in the mud so I could have a look at the servants’ areas. If Matt and Eveline really were here, I’d probably see them in the back. I also remembered that the slave trader told Uncle Andrew that Matt and Eveline had been sold specifically as house slaves.
“Don’t dillydally, girl,” the woman in the scarf said.
I looked up to see who she was talking to. I was surprised and happy to see Eveline standing on the other end of the kitchen. She just stared at me, her mouth hanging open.
I wanted to say something to her—hello, and “Where’s Matt?” and other things I was busting to ask—but she shook her head quickly.
“Go on, girl,” the woman said. Eveline walked past me and out the back door.
“Unless you want me to wash your britches, that’s the best I can do,” the servant said.
I looked down and saw that Jonah had gotten rid of most of the mud. “I think that’s good. Thanks.”
Jonah took me back to the family room. I got the impression that Uncle Andrew and Colonel Ross had become fast friends. They talked like old buddies. The Colonel insisted that we have dinner with him, then apologized that his wife couldn’t join us since she’d gone to visit her mother in Savannah.
“I don’t know much about birds,” the Colonel said, “but you’re welcome to any resource I have that will assist your expedition.”
“I’m obliged, sir,” Uncle Andrew said, then hesitated as if he were about to ask the unaskable.
Colonel Ross picked up the hint. “You have a question, sir?”
“Mr. Mason was very kind to lend one of his slaves to me. Jack is capable, but he’s—”
“Say no more,” Colonel Ross said. “I can certainly provide you with a slave.”
“I saw one in the kitchen that would be perfect,” I jumped in.
Uncle Andrew shot a heedful look my way. “Did you?”
“It’s a young girl. I think she’s just the right size to climb trees and find the nests.”
Colonel Ross tugged at his whiskers. “There are better and more experienced slaves to send with you. The girl is new, and I’m not entirely sure I can trust her in an open field.”
“I would take full responsibility, of course.”
“I have no doubt that you would,” the Colonel replied. “But taking responsibility isn’t the point. I believe it would be reckless to send her with you. I’ll send Washington instead.”
Washington was a field slave who was probably in his thirties, but looked as if he were my age. He talked more than any other slave I’d met—about his wife and children, the weather, the landscape, where we were from, birds—and I wondered if there was anything he wouldn’t talk about.
I tuned out. My mind was on other things. I felt worried and discouraged that Washington went with us instead of Eveline or Matt. What were we going to do now? How would we contact them to say that we were all going to escape that night? Where was Matt anyway?
The dark clouds hung over us all afternoon. Uncle Andrew was real sneaky in how he asked Washington questions about his life as a slave and if he’d ever thought about escaping. Just then, Washington brought up the Underground Railroad.
“Yes, sir, I h
eard tell of a railroad for slaves. But I thought somebody made it up. Do you know anything about it, sir?” Washington asked.
I waited for Uncle Andrew to tell him the truth.
Instead, Uncle Andrew just shrugged. “Not very much. Perhaps less than you do.”
Rain spat down at us in small sprinkles, and we decided to go back to the Colonel’s. After we made sure that Washington was back in his slave quarters, I had a question for Uncle Andrew. “Why didn’t you tell him about the Underground Railroad?”
“Didn’t you notice how much he talked?”
“How could I not notice?” I snorted.
“If he talks that much about nothing in particular, how much more would he have to say about something really important—like us, or the Railroad?”
“You mean he might be like a spy or an informer?” I asked.
“Possibly,” Uncle Andrew replied. “There was something about the way he asked me if I knew anything about the Railroad. He was too aggressive, particularly when you consider that I’m a complete stranger. How did he know I wouldn’t turn the tables on him and report him to the overseer? So, if he isn’t some sort of an informer, he’s reckless, which can be just as bad.”
We walked along quietly for a minute, then I asked, “What are we going to do, Uncle Andrew? I’ve seen Eveline, but I don’t know where Matt is. How can we find them and talk to them without making everybody suspicious? Do you want to throw me in another mud puddle?”
Uncle Andrew chuckled, then looked down at our clothes. We were covered with mud and leaves. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Let’s simply walk to the back door of the main house and ask to be cleaned off. Chances are we’ll see Eveline and Matt in the kitchen, preparing for the evening meal.”
I didn’t realize how cold it was outside until we stepped into the warmth of the kitchen. The woman in the scarf was there, wrestling with a large duck. Eveline was there, too, peeling potatoes.
She looked up at us but didn’t react.
Uncle Andrew approached the woman with the scarf. “What’s your name, my good woman?”
“I’m Lizzie,” she answered.
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