by Jon Walter
‘Listen to ’em, Mother.’ Gerald calls to her across the fire. ‘They ain’t reciting. They’re reading. They can all do it, some better than others, but even so, they’re all gonna learn. Just listen, Mother. Hear how good they are.’
Sicely has a hold of the book, and though she can’t look the missus in the eye, she still says her line. ‘“Thou prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies.”’
Mrs Allen keeps her arm outstretched and steps towards her. ‘Give me that book!’
I ain’t never seen Sicely disobey the missus, but she steps away and passes it on to Hubbard, who stands there in his chains and reads perfectly. He really does. ‘“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me,”’ he recites in his deep voice, sounding something like the thunder overhead. ‘“And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”’
Mrs Allen snatches the book from his hands.
She comes straight for me, letting the Bible fall open at a random page, which she presents to me. I notice it is Leviticus 3, verse 2. ‘Read it,’ she tells me, and I do, I read it in a loud clear voice with no mistakes and I keep reading, till I see her black-laced hand take hold of the top of the book and snap it shut.
She fixes me with her stare. ‘That’ll be enough. Thank you.’
Gerald brings Virginia around to our side. ‘It’s like how Daddy said, isn’t it? If you give a man a chance, who knows what he can do. We got to give ’em their chance, Mother. We’ve got no choice. We got to give ’em their freedom and we’ve got to do it before the Yankees get here.’
Mrs Allen blanches and I see her swallow. She turns to Sicely. ‘You will collect up any books belonging to me and bring them back to the house immediately.’ A single finger picks out me and then Gerald. ‘You two come with me.’
Mrs Allen takes the lamp from Gerald’s hand, scoops up Virginia and starts away to the house without another word as we both follow her, walking three steps behind, though the missus goes so fast we almost have to run to keep up.
When we get past the trees, baby Virginia bursts into tears, cos she wants to walk and not be carried. Gerald skips forward. ‘Mother, let me take her for you.’
‘You’ve done enough damage for one day.’ Mrs Allen marches on through the yard and into the house. She opens the door to the library. ‘Come in here, you two. Virginia, sit on that chair there and be still.’
‘Bed!’ says little Virginia.
‘You can’t go to bed. You must wait for a moment.’ Mrs Allen turns up the wick on the oil lamp as Virginia starts to wail again and I sneak a quick peek at Gerald to see how brave he looks, but as far as I can see he’s about as scared as I am.
Mrs Allen addresses neither of us in particular. ‘Would you like to tell me exactly what’s been going on?’
‘It was me, ma’am.’ I speak up first. ‘I’ve been giving lessons to the others, teaching ’em how to read and write. We wanted to show you what we could do, ma’am. We thought it might convince you to give us our papers.’
‘Why would it make a difference?’
‘Well, you see, ma’am …’
Sicely appears at the open door with an armful of books.
‘Put them on the table by the door, Sicely. And take Virginia up to bed, would you?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Sicely curtsies, takes Virginia by the hand and leaves the room, looking ever so anxious.
Mrs Allen goes to the table. She runs a finger up the spines of the books before she turns on me. ‘Have you been stealing my books?’
‘No, Mother,’ Gerald confesses quickly. ‘It was me. I’ve been taking them for Friday. I’ve given him everything he needs.’
Mrs Allen nods like she had already guessed. ‘Then come and put them back on the shelves for me, would you?’
Gerald goes across to the table and his mother slaps him hard across the face when he gets there. ‘Is that what you think of me?’ she demands of him. ‘You have brought the ideas of our enemies into this house …’
Gerald has a hand to his face. ‘It’s what my daddy wanted!’
Mrs Allen points out the window. ‘Your daddy is up on that hill. He’s still warm in his grave and yet you can’t even remember what he died for.’
Gerald glares at her. ‘He believed in paying a living wage to a man for his work. He believed a man was worth at least that, regardless of his colour.’
Mrs Allen shakes her head as though she is tired of it all. ‘Your daddy would never have done the things he liked to talk about, Gerald. He was interested in the ideas. That’s all. It was all just words. He was never gonna do it.’
‘We’ve got to free the slaves, Mother, and we’ve got to do it now.’
‘Do you intend us all to starve?’
‘Of course not, but—’
‘Your father died fighting the same people who want to rob us of our property. They want the riches that God bestowed upon us for themselves. Are you saying you’d simply lie down and give everything to ’em? Why, he’d be as ashamed of you as I am!’
‘Daddy knew what was right!’
‘Yes, he did.’ Mrs Allen walks to the door. ‘I’ve had enough of this. Now please go to your room.’
‘Mother, you can’t just send me to—’
‘Go to your room now, or so help me God I’ll fetch your father’s belt.’
‘Mrs Allen,’ I interrupt, ‘the Yankees’ll be here soon. Everyone says so. And once they’re here, there won’t be no slavery. Not any more. So you’ve got nothing to lose. By letting us go, you might just be able to keep us.’
Gerald pauses in the doorway as Mrs Allen looks at me with a kind of horror. ‘Friday’s right,’ he says. ‘If we do the right thing now, they might stay. I’m sure they will, Mother. They’ll stay and work for us.’
‘I told you to go to your room.’ She points her finger towards the stairs. ‘Don’t think you’re too old,’ she warns him.
Gerald slinks out of the door, accepting it’s useless to argue any longer, and I can hear his shoes upon the staircase as he goes upstairs.
Mrs Allen turns back to deal with me and I fear the worst. All the confidence I had is gone, and suddenly I ain’t a soldier of the Lord at all, I’m a little boy who’s been caught out and I wonder where it is that God has got to, cos He seemed so close when we were down by the fire, He seemed like He was right there with me, but now He’s gone.
‘I’m disappointed in you.’
I wait, not knowing whether she means to hit me too, but she stands aside from the door and indicates that I should leave. Then, as I walk past her, she says, ‘Ask Hubbard to have the wagon ready for me in the morning. I need to visit the auction house. I imagine Mr Wickham will have the clearest idea how best to be rid of you.’
Chapter 19
Mrs Allen left for town the next morning, just as she had promised, and though she was back at the house by the afternoon, we heard no news of what had occurred with Mr Wickham. In the evening she comes down to the cabins as usual, reciting the Lord’s Prayer, then giving us a speech about faithfulness and loyalty. She does not mention the previous evening and we do not bring it up ourselves.
‘I don’t like it,’ mutters Lizzie as we watch her go back up to the house. ‘I don’t like it at all.’
Sicely pulls on my arm, taking me to one side so we have some privacy. ‘I got a message from Master Gerald. He says Peighton has agreed to take you to Alabama and sell you at auction. He’s gonna leave in a week’s time and take his own slaves with him.’ She grips my arms as though I might be about to fall. ‘Oh, Friday, I’m so scared. What are you going to do?’
She’s got tears at the edge of her eyes, and I feel called upon to comfort her instead of worrying for myself. ‘It’ll be all right, Sicely,’ I tell her. ‘I ain’t going nowhere. I’ll talk to Gerald. I belong to him by rights and he won’t let her sell me.’
But Sicely shakes her head. ‘You can’t do that. Master Gerald’s been confined to the house till you’ve gone. You
won’t get to see him, and anyway he can’t do anything about it. He told me so himself, said she’s got the right to manage you as she pleases. He said for you to run away. That was his advice. He told me to say goodbye.’ She hugs me so hard I find it hard to breathe. ‘What are you gonna do, Friday? I been so worried thinking ’bout it.’
I manage to stay calm. ‘I’ll think on it, Sicely. I’ve still got some time to think it through.’
Sicely goes back to the house, and once she’s gone I tell Hubbard the whole thing. We’re standing out on the porch and the sound of distant thunder comes in across the fields as it did the night before. ‘I got to get away, Hubbard. I can’t go to Alabama with Peighton – I just can’t.’
‘Don’t worry,’ the big man tells me. ‘You won’t be going to Alabama.’ Another boom from the skies makes me look up, expecting rain. ‘That ain’t thunder,’ says Hubbard. ‘Those are cannon and mortar. Least I think so. I heard there are boats on the river shelling a town only ten miles away. There’s rumours of an army too, a whole load of Yankees walking through to meet ’em from the east.’
I cock my head and listen again to the distant rumble. ‘You mean that’s actually the Yankees? They’re really that close?’ I’m amazed that Connie’s promises are coming true, just as he said they would.
Hubbard nods. ‘It won’t be long now.’ He walks back to the door, dragging his chains with him across the porch. ‘Why don’t you come on in and we can talk some more?’
As we go inside I notice Hubbard is limping. He walks across to the hearth and sits down.
‘Let me take a look at those for you.’ I take the lamp from the table, light it and kneel before his feet. Taking hold of the shackles, I ease the edge away from his skin and his legs look like the trees that we girdle out in the wood, with a circle of blood around the top of the irons. ‘We should put some rags around the top of those.’ I tell him. ‘It might stop ’em chafing.’
‘There’s no room.’ Hubbard winces and takes his leg away. ‘It’s not for long. I’ll be all right.’
‘Then you should have ointment on it. I’ll go and see the missus tomorrow, first thing. I’ll tell her you need it.’
Hubbard pours us both a cup of water from the bucket. ‘Now you listen to me. You can’t go running off by yourself. Do you hear me? It ain’t safe.’
‘I’ll be all right,’ I lie.
‘Just hold on, Samuel. You got to slow down and think it through. Sicely told you Peighton would be leaving in a week. Is that right?’
It makes me smile to hear him use my name again, but I ain’t giving in. ‘I’ve got to go while I still can. What if Peighton brings a set of chains for me tomorrow? What if he leaves for Alabama early? I’d rather go now, Hubbard. I’ll be on my own so I got a good chance of not being seen if I’m careful.’
‘Whoa! Hold on there.’ Hubbard shakes his head as though it’s out of the question. ‘You’re not going anywhere without me. Do you hear?’
‘You mean you’re leaving too? Where are you going, Hubbard? Do you have a plan?’ He looks embarrassed and turns to the hearth to prod at the embers, his shackles scraping on the wooden floor. ‘Are you going after your family? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? You are, aren’t you? You know where she is!’
Hubbard smiles. I don’t think he means to but he can’t help it. It’s only a little smile that itches at the corner of his lips, but then it breaks out across his face.
‘See! You do know! Are they safe already? They must be or you wouldn’t be smiling like that. Hubbard! Stop laughing at me. This ain’t funny.’
A woman’s voice takes me by surprise. ‘I never thought freedom would be anything like this.’ It comes from somewhere behind me and I spin round in my chair, expecting her to be standing right there but the space is still completely empty.
Hubbard thinks that’s hilarious. And I can hear another laugh too – I’m sure I can – the giggle of a little girl.
Hubbard turns to face the back wall. ‘Don’t just laugh at the poor boy! Why don’t you say hello, Celia?’
Another giggle. And then the woman speaks again. ‘Hello, Samuel,’ she says. ‘I’m glad we’ve finally been properly introduced.’
She sounds far away and yet very close, and I walk out into the middle of the cabin, looking for their hiding place, but there’s nothing there, there’s nowhere to hide, and I stand bewildered.
The little girl giggles again and Hubbard shakes his head. ‘They’re playing games with you.’ He gets up and walks to the back wall of the cabin. ‘Come here, Samuel. Come and meet my daughter.’ He beckons and I go to him, still unsure of what is going on.
A girl says, ‘Hello.’ Her voice came from the wall – I’m sure it did – and I put my ear against the wood.
‘Her name is Sarah,’ Hubbard tells me.
I say, ‘Hello, Sarah,’ and a finger appears from a notch in the wood, just under my chin, a little girl’s finger, with a twisted braid of grass for a ring. It reminds me of Joshua when he said goodbye to me in the privy, and I take hold and shake it politely. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Sarah.’ Then suddenly I laugh out loud. ‘All this time I’ve been thinking you was a mouse!’
She laughs so loud that Hubbard has to quiet us down. ‘Shhh, you two. We still got to be careful, remember. We ain’t there yet.’
I ain’t never seen Hubbard as happy as he is right now. He looks like a little kid at Christmas and I have a hundred questions for him – about how he got ’em in there, how long it’s been and how they got food and where they slept – but he won’t answer any of ’em. He puts a hand on my shoulder and walks me back into the middle of the room. ‘We’ve got a few days till Peighton leaves. That gives us enough time to plan our escape, and the closer those Yankees get to us, the less dangerous it’ll be when we leave.’ He nods at my mattress.
‘I think we all ought to get some sleep and see how things look in the morning. That goes for you two as well,’ he says to the wall. I lay my mattress on the floor and sneak in under the blanket, wondering whether they’re watching me from behind the wall. Hubbard turns out the lamp and finds the way to his mattress in the dark, the chains all clinking together as he arranges his legs to be comfortable as he sleeps. I lie there listening for sounds from the back wall, wondering how much room they have and whether they have food or blankets and what they do if they need to visit the latrine. But I don’t hear another sound from ’em.
That night I ask the Lord to deliver us to freedom and keep us all safe in the face of such misfortune. Yes. I say amen to that.
*
I stand at the fire pit with Lizzie. It’s dawn and we’re still rubbing the sleep from our eyes when a Yankee soldier rides through the plantation on a black horse. We see him soon as he trots past the trees from the direction of the house, all calm as you like, as though he’s out for a morning stroll.
‘Do you see that?’ I ask Lizzie.
‘I do.’
She takes hold of my hand. ‘At least he looks like he’s on his own.’
The soldier comes down to the fire and stops his horse to take a look at us. We look back at him. He don’t appear much different to the rebel soldiers I’ve seen in town, and all of ’em would look better for a plate of food and a shave. We don’t have a word to say to each other, not him to us or us to him, but once he’s got the measure of us he kicks the flanks of his horse and rides away in the direction of the river.
‘The Yankees are here!’ Sicely comes running down from the house, hollering her alarm. ‘The Yankees are coming!’
Lizzie takes her daughter by the arm. ‘We saw him, Sicely. Now you calm down and tell us what happened at the house.’
Sicely is all out of breath. ‘There was one of ’em on a horse. He rode up the driveway and through the yard. The missus reckons he’s looking for things to steal, but where there’s one of ’em there’ll be more. She said you can be sure of that. She’s already taken Gerald with her in the cart. They’re g
oing into town to get help. She says Peighton ought to know that we’re here alone and in peril.’
Hubbard has gone out to the field already and I go to find him, shouting to him as soon as I see him there on the back of the cart. ‘Hubbard!’ I run to him. ‘There’s a Yankee soldier!’
‘I saw him too. He just came by. Probably a scout, I reckon.’
‘Ain’t you worried?’
Hubbard looks out along the river. ‘It’s good news, ain’t it? If the Yankees are this close maybe we don’t need to run after all. Maybe they’ve already come to us.’
‘Sicely said the missus has gone into town. What do you think we should do?’
Hubbard thinks about it. ‘We don’t do anything just yet. We’ll keep our eyes and ears open but be ready to go if we need to.’
I look at the chains on his ankles. ‘How you gonna go like that?’
‘Don’t you worry about these.’ Hubbard climbs down from the cart. ‘There’s tools in the shed that’ll take these off in an instant.’
The two of us come back to the cabins and join the others at the fire pit. ‘What should we do?’ Levi asks of Hubbard. ‘Should we be working or not?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose so. We should do everything the same as we usually do.’
We go down to the field and gather up our tools, but then we stand around, unable to put our minds to it. We send George to look down the river and tell us what he sees but he comes back looking blank – says everything looks the same as it ever did.
An hour or so later the distant boom of the mortar and cannon starts up again. Out of all of us, Lizzie looks the most nervous. ‘What’ll you do when the Yankees arrive?’ I ask her. ‘Will you go and find Milly?’
