Underground

by Gayle O'Brien

  “Yes,” said Samantha.

  “I have my passengers leave them on the inside of the back flap in the Bible.” He smiled. “And if you end up reading a passage or two, then all the better.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Odus.

  “You do your best to get some rest,” said Reverend Jennings. “I’ll let you out before dawn. God bless,” he added.

  Samantha and Odus watched as the two steps were slotted back in at the bottom of the stairs and secured into place.

  Samantha set the paper onto the wooden crate and dipped the quill into the well. As she began to write, the board that ran across the middle of the crate cracked under the weight of her arm.

  “Darn it,” she whispered.

  She reached into her boot and pulled out Eli’s knife. Its blade caught the lantern light. Samantha tried not to look at the engraving. Instead, she lifted the crate and pushed the knife so it sat horizontally under the broken board and embedded the tip into the crate’s side. She pressed down on the broken board – the knife underneath held it firmly in place. She turned the crate upright and again began to write:

  Dearest Papa,

  There is so much I want to tell you that I don’t know where to begin …

  “I’m finished,” she said, folding the letter and putting it in the envelope. Odus handed her the Bible and she secured the letter in its binding. She opened the back flap and wrote SW 3/27/61 and EF 3/27/61.

  “I suppose I should extinguish the lantern,” she said.

  “I s’pose so,” said Odus, handing her the blanket.

  She turned the key and they were plunged into darkness. She could feel Odus near her and heard only the sound of his breathing. Her stomach felt as if a thousand lightning bugs danced within it.

  “Miss Sammy?” he said quietly.

  “Yes, Odus?”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “In your letter to your father you told him that you in love. That true?”

  She hadn’t noticed Odus reading over her shoulder. Then she realized something else. “Odus, can you read?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Why didn’t you say so? Why did you sit through me teaching you what you already know?”

  Odus paused. “I guess I jus’ wanted to be next to you,” he said.

  Samantha wondered if he could hear her smiling in the dark.

  “Well,” she said, “you’re next to me now.”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Please would you do something for me?”

  “Anything, Miss Sammy.”

  “Please would you be next to me always?”

  “I’d love nothing better, Miss Sammy.”

  “Samantha,” she said. “Call me Samantha.”

  She felt Odus’ strong arms wrap around her waist.

  “Very well. Samantha.”

  A loud noise shook Samantha awake. Or was it a gunshot? She was too sleepy to know. Then, she heard the door to the basement burst open. Two sets of hurried footsteps bounded down the stairs. The bottom two steps were pulled from their place. The lantern-lit figures of Reverend Jennings and Theodore Mason came into view.

  “We’ve got to go,” said Reverend Jennings, reaching his hand through the gap.

  “What is it?” said Samantha, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

  The sound of gunfire echoed down the stairs and made them all jump.

  “We know you’re in there!” came a voice that Samantha recognized but could not place. “Come out or we’ll smoke you out.”

  Mason and Reverend Jennings looked at each other, their faces pale.

  “They’ve come for me,” said Samantha.

  “They’ve come for all of you,” said Mason.

  “Have they got Amira?”

  “No,” he said. “They rode straight past the store. Didn’t look once.”

  “So Amira is safe,” she said, to no one in particular.

  She took Odus’ hand and looked into his eyes. “I need you to stay here.”

  “No, Samantha. We in this together.”

  “I need you to understand something. If you go out there, you are a dead man. If I go out there, we have a chance. They’ll take me down south and then I’ll come back. I’ll find you. You need to keep going north where you can be free.” She stroked his face. “And then we can be together.”

  She prayed to God that Odus could not know that these things would never happen.

  “This is your last warning!” the voice bellowed.

  “You’re not going out there without me,” said Odus.

  “Yes, I am,” she reached for Reverend Jennings’ hand.

  “No!” yelled Odus and pulled her back in.

  “Help me,” said Samantha to Mason.

  The Reverend pulled Samantha out while Mason struggled to keep Odus inside.

  “Please, Odus,” she said, “stay here.”

  “No,” he said, and tried to clamber out of the gap. Mason pushed him back in and he fell to the ground.

  “Put the steps back in, quickly!” said Mason.

  “There’s a divot you can slot it in that makes it near impossible for the person to get out,” said the Reverend, heaving from his efforts. Together they jammed the stairs while Odus pounded at them from the other side.

  “Will they hear him?” she asked Reverend Jennings.

  “Let’s pray not.”

  Samantha briefly put her hand on the wooden steps, saying goodbye, flinching at the sound of Odus pounding and screaming. Then she ran up the stairs. Reverend Jennings and Mason hurried behind her.

  “Miss Weston, do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

  “They might be satisfied just to have me. They don’t need to know Odus and Amira made it this far,” she said. “I need you to make sure Odus gets north. Promise me you will take him on after I’m gone.”

  He nodded.

  She walked towards the Jennings’ front door. Light glowed from outside, highlighting a stained-glass window above the front door and throwing its colors over the floor on which she walked. She put her hand on the doorknob and caught sight of herself in the mirror hanging on the wall. Even she was surprised by the determination in her face.

  Mr. Jennings put his hand on her arm. “Miss Weston, are you sure?”

  Samantha squeezed the door handle.

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life,” she said.

  When she emerged from the house she saw it wasn’t the sun lighting the sky, but more than half a dozen torches blazing against the darkness. She blinked as her eyes adjusted, and figures and their features came into focus.

  The first wave of recognition hit, and she gasped.

  Clement Durant stood a few feet away from the front porch. At the center of the group, unshaven and worn, was Royal Fabre. He opened his mouth to speak.

  “Samantha,” he started, then stopped.

  Clement Durant’s horrible voice came through the night. “Samantha Weston, on behalf of your father, Sanford Weston, and the sovereign state of Virginia, you are hereby under arrest for the murder of Elijah …”

  “Shut up, Durant,” said Royal. “Samantha,” he said, taking tentative steps towards her on the porch. “Samantha, my brother was shot and killed on our property border over two weeks ago. The bullet came from a gun like yours. I need to know if you know what happened.”

  “I do.”

  “It is believed that you killed him. But I believe that the slaves my brother sought somehow got a hold of your gun and killed him. What I don’t know is how or why.”

  “Royal, it was me. I did it.”

  Royal became unsteady on his feet. “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Why?”

  Samantha saw Durant and the smirk on his face. If she had her pistol she would have blown his head off.

  “Because he was going to kill someone very dear to me.”

  “Who?” said Ro
yal, confusion spreading across his face.

  “His name is Exodus Freeman. And now that’s exactly what he is, a free man.”

  “I knew it!” said Durant. “I told you she’d become a nigger lover …”

  “Shut up!” Royal yelled. He and Samantha stood face to face. “Are you admitting that you killed my brother because of some … slave?”

  Samantha met his red eyes. “Eli would have killed him,” she whispered.

  A primal scream came out of Royal’s mouth as he raised his hand and hit her across the face. Reverend Jennings rushed to her, but one of Durant’s men pushed him back.

  Stars circled her peripheral vision. Royal grabbed her arms and shook her upright. “How could you?” he whispered through his tears. “I could have loved you. I thought you might have one day loved me, too. But now, it’s ruined. You killed Eli, and you’ve ruined everything.”

  He pushed her back and she fell against Reverend Jennings.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Royal wiped his eyes and raised his voice. “She’s all yours, Durant.”

  Durant approached the porch, his lips unable to hide his rotting teeth. The men with torches gathered behind him.

  “Now, Miss Weston,” he said, rubbing his hands together, “there’s a small matter of two niggers you helped to escape. Where are they?”

  “Long gone. Probably even as far as Canada by now.”

  Durant sniggered.

  “You think I’m going to buy that?”

  “It’s the truth. Isn’t it Reverend Jennings?”

  “Yes, Miss Weston.”

  “So you expect me to believe that two stupid niggers managed to get from Virginia to Canada in just fourteen days?”

  “I don’t expect an ignoramus like you to believe much of anything.”

  “Put her in the wagon,” Durant yelled. “We’ll take her back to Virginia. You,” he said, pointing to two of the men, “keep on searching. Those niggers have to be around here somewhere. Where are you keeping them, Reverend?”

  “Miss Weston told you they’re not here,” he said, “and I resent you making such a baseless charge.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Reverend. How do you think we found you? We have a witness, a man of honor who saw you transporting Miss Weston and a fugitive in a wagon just like the one you’ve got over there.” Durant pointed to Moses’ wagon. Reverend Jennings went pale. “So, how about we just do a little search of the place?” said Durant. “Shouldn’t take too long.”

  “This is private property, gentlemen. You have no right.”

  “Well maybe you, Reverend, need to be thinking about a little something called the Fugitive Slave Act. It’s a crime for anyone to be hiding something that does not belong to them. What do you say we put you in the wagon too and you can stand trial alongside Miss Weston here?”

  “No!” Samantha yelled.

  “Or maybe we could just burn this house down. Smoke them out.”

  Royal pulled Durant by the scruff of his neck. “We’re not thugs. And we are not the law. We are here for Miss Weston.”

  “But the two nig …”

  “Sanford Weston’s slaves are not my concern. Now shut up and put Miss Weston in the wagon. We’re going home.”

  Durant scowled and grabbed Samantha by the arm. She shot a look at Reverend Jennings. He nodded, solemnly.

  Durant dragged her to a small wagon, enclosed except for two barred windows. He sat her down on the step and tied her hands together with coarse rope. Samantha winced at his stench. He put his hands on her bent knees and leaned in.

  “I’m going to enjoy this, Miss Weston. First, we’re going to go back to Virginia. Then we’re going to put you in jail. After that you’re going on trial. And you know what happens then? You’re going to hang. If not for murder, then for being a nigger lover. And when the day comes, I’ll make sure I’m the one who puts that noose around your pretty little neck.”

  “My father will never let that happen.”

  “Your father can’t do a thing to save you now, little missy.”

  Samantha spat in his face, hitting him square in the eye.

  “Why you little …”

  “Durant!” Royal yelled, mounting his horse. “It’s time to go.”

  Durant wiped his face. “Just you wait,” he scowled. “Just you wait.”

  Chapter 25

  Annie and Theo watched as Kate’s scanned copies of the Beckwith Station Gazette appeared on Theo’s computer screen.

  Beckwith Station Gazette

  April 6, 1861

  Samantha Weston Found; Arrested For Murder of Elijah Fabre

  Samantha Weston, daughter of Sanford Weston of Mont Verity, missing since the night of March 13 was found after a two-week search involving law enforcement up and down the eastern seaboard. Miss Weston, it is alleged, had been hiding in the home of Reverend Zachariah Jennings of Battenkill, Vermont, who – this reporter has been informed – is a known abolitionist and slave sympathizer.

  It is believed that the two slaves Miss Weston helped to escape have not yet been found, despite an extensive search of Mr. Jennings’ property and the surrounding area. They have possibly already made a successful crossing into Canada. Miss Weston is currently being detained at the Beckwith County Courthouse, where she awaits trial for the murder of Elijah Fabre of Dominion Royale. She is also charged with theft under the Fugitive Slave Act, although it is expected her father – who owns the slaves in question – will testify that he will not seek damages or retribution for the loss of his property.

  Beckwith Station Gazette

  Special Edition

  April 9, 1861

  Trial of Samantha Weston Commences

  The trial of Samantha Weston, who is charged with the murder of Elijah Fabre of Dominion Royale, began in earnest yesterday at the Beckwith County Courthouse.

  Among those giving testimony were her father, Sanford Weston, her former fiancé, Royal Fabre, and her father’s overseer, Clement Durant.

  Master Weston testified that it was his wife who, upon summoning her daughter for breakfast, raised concern about Miss Weston’s whereabouts on the morning of Thursday, March 14.

  Master Weston then summoned the help of Royal Fabre to help him with his search, as it was originally believed she may have arranged to meet Elijah Fabre, who – this reporter has been told, in confidence – she desired to marry. Elijah Fabre’s exact whereabouts the previous week are unknown, although it has been confirmed that he had been in valiant pursuit of two escaped slaves belonging to Master Weston.

  Master Weston told the judge that upon finding the body of Elijah Fabre, they at first believed him to be asleep. It was when trying to wake him that they first noticed the gunshot wound, which Royal Fabre testified had been made at close range.

  Until the trial, there had been a number of theories about the events of the evening. One theory was that one of the fugitive slaves had stolen Miss Weston’s pistol, used it to kill Elijah Fabre, then forced Miss Weston to travel north at gunpoint, but in their respective testimonies, both Royal Fabre and Clement Durant told the court how Miss Weston confessed to both the murder and the slaves’ escape upon her capture.

  Clement Durant spent a great deal of time in the witness seat, explaining to the court how, in the week before she disappeared, Miss Weston had developed what he called “a fondness for niggers.” He said, “She went all soft on ‘em, and was interfering with my methods of keeping them in line. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she weren’t planning to free every last one of ‘em.”

  Miss Weston’s mother, Madeline Weston, was not present at the trial.

  Beckwith Station Gazette

  Special Edition

  April 10, 1861

  Samantha Weston Found Guilty of Murder of Elijah Fabre

  It has taken our Beckwith County judge a mere one day of testimony and deliberation to conclude that Samantha Weston, daughter of Sanford Weston of Mont Verity, is guilty of the murder
of Elijah Fabre. The sentence is death by hanging.

  In his verdict, the judge said, “This is a clear-cut case with a clear-cut outcome. While charges have not been brought against Miss Weston for the theft of her father’s property, the murder she committed was in support of that theft. In this current political climate, it is more important than ever that those who aid and abet fugitive slaves are punished severely, and held up as an example of the consequences of doing so.”

  It has been reported that Royal Fabre left in the middle of the judge’s sentencing.

  Clement Durant began to cheer while the judge read his sentence and was escorted from the courtroom.

  Neither of Miss Weston’s parents was present at the verdict.

  The date of Miss Weston’s hanging was not available at the time we went to press.

  Beckwith Station Gazette

  Special Edition

  April 11, 1861

  Samantha Weston to Hang at Beckwith Station Courthouse on April 12

  Samantha Weston, daughter of Sanford Weston of Mont Verity and convicted murderer, is to hang in front of the Beckwith Station Courthouse tomorrow, April 12.

  Rather unusually for the hanging of a woman, the judge who convicted Miss Weston has announced that all residents and slaves within a five-mile radius be present.

  “Now more than ever,” he said, “it is essential that whites and negroes alike understand that aiding and abetting fugitive slaves will have the most severe consequences. That Miss Weston is female and from a prominent family just goes to show that no one is exempt from the penalties for assisting runaways.”

  Although Miss Weston’s family lives less than five miles from the courthouse, it is rumored that they will not be present at the hanging. Clement Durant, Master Weston’s trusted overseer, will bring Master Weston’s slaves to the site.

  “Where’s the rest?” said Annie.

  Theo scrolled down.

  “That’s it. That’s the end.”

  “No, that can’t be it. There has to be more.”