Morning Star

by Judith Plaxton

  “It’s the only way for now. Your ma and I can’t make it.”

  “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to be all alone.”

  “We need you to do it, daughter, to find these Buxton people. It’s not far. Go find help and bring it back to us.”

  Flower’s throat began to ache. “I don’t want to leave you.” She pressed her teary face against her mother’s hand.

  “It’s the only way.”

  Cleo helped Flower measure out some of the remaining bread and meat and pack it into a cloth square. They held each other close, then Flower kissed Gabriel and walked with her father to the stream. Together they studied the place of the sun in the sky and determined which way was north. Eldon patted her on the back, and pushed her gently forward. “You be on your way now.”

  Flower started walking and didn’t look back. She placed one foot in front of the other and willed her mind to be blank. She didn’t want to think about losing her mother and father. Would they really recover and join her again? She didn’t want to think about Gabriel, the warmth of his round body when she carried him, the way he held his arms out to her when he wanted to be picked up. She didn’t want to think about wicked slave catchers, howling dogs, or any wild creatures: bears, snakes, or mountain lions. She plodded along for hours until her mouth was dry and her legs were aching, then sat on a stone near the brook and rested.

  When she knelt down to drink from the flowing water, Flower heard a sound. She lifted her head, the water dripping out of her mouth and back into the stream. It wasn’t a bird. It was a person, whistling. Flower got to her feet. She had to hide. Where? There were no bushes to crouch behind, only trees. She remembered her father climbing one and made a panicked decision to do the same. It wasn’t easy—her feet scuffed and slid, and the branches scratched her face and hurt her hands. She settled on a limb, leaned against the trunk, and tried to breathe without making a sound. The whistling stopped. Flower knew that the person had heard her and was listening too.

  There was quiet, then soft footsteps. Flower held her breath, grasped the tree with desperation. The branch she was standing on moved up and down with her weight.

  “Those branches are moving mighty hard. Not much breeze. Maybe a cougar, or someone hiding in a difficult spot.”

  Flower pressed her forehead against the rough bark. One foot started to slip.

  “If you’re a friend, I’m a friend too. If you’re here to cause harm, I have a gun, and I know how to use it.”

  A metallic click signaled the release of a bolt, and Flower imagined a gun barrel aimed straight up at her. She shook with fear, losing her foothold. She tried to cling with her hands and arms, but couldn’t manage. The branches thwacked her legs as she scratched and scraped her way down, landing in a painful clump at the base of the tree.

  Footsteps approached. Flower kept her face hidden. “Please don’t shoot me.”

  “I know how to use it, but I don’t like to use it. What’s your name, and what were you doing in the tree?”

  Flower looked at his muddy boots. “I heard you coming.”

  “Hiding from me? No need to. Get up now and let me see you.” He reached down as he spoke and, grasping an arm, tugged her to her feet. Flower backed away, stared at the gloved hand holding the gun, not daring to look at the stranger’s face.

  “I always carry it. You never know what’s around the corner. What’s your name?”

  “Flower.”

  “A pretty name for a pretty little girl. Where’s your kin?”

  Flower didn’t want to reveal her family’s hiding place. She wasn’t sure she could trust this person, though he sounded kind.

  “Where you headed then?”

  Flower finally found the courage to look up, to see her inquisitor’s face. Her eyes widened with surprise. His skin was darker than Jake’s.

  “I’m following the stream north to the Buxton place. If the quilt is out, it’s safe.”

  “You would be right about that.” He smiled at her and extended his hand. “I’m Abe Buxton. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  CHAPTER 48

  Felicia

  “I WANT YOU in groups of four,” said Miss Peabody. “You have to share.”

  Felicia, Renate, Sophie, and Dodie automatically formed their own foursome and stood expectantly in front of a microscope.

  “What are we going to look at?”

  The teacher opened a large plastic container. “We’re going to study a form of flatworm called Planaria. They’re most interesting, because—”

  “WORMS!”

  “Remember, everyone, you’re on your way to adulthood.”

  “Some have a longer way to go,” said Matt.

  Miss Peabody continued, “Each foursome will receive one. Once you have yours, place it on the glass provided and look at it under the microscope.”

  “How are we going to pick them up?” asked Renate.

  “Very carefully,” said Matt.

  “With tweezers. There’s nothing to it,” said the teacher.

  “We might hurt them.”

  “Please, Sophie,” said Dodie.

  “As you examine them, I’d like you to make notes,” continued Miss Peabody. “After that, you’ll be given a scalpel, and I want you to cut them in half.”

  The classroom erupted. Miss Peabody raised her hands for quiet. “The reason these creatures are used in research is because they have the amazing ability to regenerate themselves.”

  “Let’s do it,” said Dodie, picking up a pair of tweezers. She grasped the tiny creature and placed it on a glass slide, slid it under the microscope, and peered down. “It’s cute!”

  Later, at the stable, they were still talking about the worm as they groomed their horses.

  “It was sweet. I didn’t expect it to have those big eyes looking up at us.”

  “Good-looking, for a worm,” agreed Felicia.

  Sophie asked, “How do we know for sure it doesn’t feel pain?”

  “’Cause it’s a worm. It doesn’t feel anything.”

  “Dodie, sometimes it sounds as if you think you know everything, and you don’t,” said Sophie.

  “Sometimes we just look at things differently,” said Felicia. She bent to lift a hoof, pick in hand, but Star stood firm and refused to release her foot. “Come on, give me your hoof.” Felicia tugged, but the horse didn’t move. Lift your foot! How can I clean it?”

  Their instructor came out of the tack room. “Anything wrong?”

  “Star is being stubborn or lazy or something. She won’t lift her foot.”

  “Let me see.” Francine ran her hand down the front left leg and asked, “Can you give me your foot, good girl? No? Let’s try another one.” She had the horse lift the other front foot. “Here’s the trouble.” Her strong fingers pried out a stone lodged inside the rim of the metal shoe. “She didn’t want to put her weight on this foot. It hurt.” Francine scraped away a bit of dirt.

  Felicia felt hot with shame. “I’m sorry. I always start with the front left. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

  “Don’t worry about it. She’s fine. It’s a lesson learned for you. The horse can’t tell you what’s wrong. You have to search it out.”

  “Poor Star. I feel terrible. I never want you to be hurt.”

  “Forget about it. She has.” Francine patted her student on the back.

  The horse seemed unaffected by the incident, trotting and cantering with ease, but the episode remained in Felicia’s mind.

  Later at the dinner table, Felicia talked to her family about the incident. “I felt so bad. S
he’s such a big animal, but she depends on someone like me to look after her.”

  “I guess years ago they roamed free, in herds, but they had to look out for wild animals that could attack them,” said Florence.

  “Rufus depends on us too,” said Felicia.

  “That cat is getting cheeky.” Delia shushed him away from the table. “He keeps trying to climb in my lap while I’m eating!”

  “He’s just been fed.” They glanced at the bowl of untouched kibble on the floor. “Guess he prefers the salmon cakes we’re having.”

  “What did you do in school today?” Florence asked.

  “Science. We had to look at this weird worm under the microscope and then cut it in half. The teacher says it’s an interesting worm ’cause it can grow itself back.”

  “That so?”

  “And, if you think I’m caring too much about Star, you should have heard Sophie with the worm. She worried it was hurt.”

  “Sophie is one sensitive soul.”

  CHAPTER 49

  Flower

  A WOMAN STOOD on the porch. “Abe, is that you?”

  “Yep, and I’ve got someone with me.”

  Flower was introduced to Abe’s sister, Abigail, a stout, slow-moving woman. Her face was broad and kindly, with eyes that were milky and stared off into the distance rather than at Flower.

  “Where you from, child?”

  “A long ways away.” Flower was still reluctant to give information. The world was a dangerous place.

  “Have you been traveling on your own all this time?”

  “Her kin’s up in the hills. Feeling poorly. I’ll see to them tomorrow,” said Abe.

  “Tomorrow? They’re all alone and sick, and they don’t have me to look after them.”

  “I don’t like to travel at night. Some of the big animals hunt then, and I don’t want to be their dinner. I’ll leave first thing in the morning and bring your folks back good and early.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You must be wanting some supper,” said Abigail.

  “Yes, please.” Flower followed Abigail inside and sat at the table. She watched as Abigail made her way in the small space without walking into anything.

  Abe explained, “Abigail has trouble seeing things, but she manages real well; and she’s a fine cook, as you’re about to learn.” Supper was vegetable soup. After bolting her small meal, Flower nursed her scalded tongue. She could feel a blister forming.

  “Where you headed now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How long have you been traveling?”

  “A while.”

  “Feeling fearful? Had some bad times?” Flower lowered her head and studied the worn tabletop, willing herself not to cry. “You’re in safe hands now, for the time being, anyway.”

  At dusk, Flower was instructed to sleep at the foot of Abigail’s bed. She was shown a hiding place under the floorboards beneath the bed. “As soon as I tell you, you get down there quick, you hear?”

  “Tonight?”

  “We never know. We are always ready for anything.”

  The next morning, Abe left just as the sun crested the horizon. Flower stood in the doorway and watched him disappear into the trees. The day was a long wait for her. She chopped carrots and turnips, swept the cabin, and watched as Abigail pummeled dough to make bread. It was late afternoon when Flower heard the sound of hooves trudging softly through grass. Abe led his horse, which walked with a steady, loping gait. Cleo sat on top and swayed with each step. Eldon walked alongside. Flower ran out to greet them, hugged her father, and then lifted the baby out of her mother’s lap. “You’re here! You’re here!”

  Abigail made them welcome and ushered them into the cabin where they sat around the table and ate the soup and freshly baked bread. Eldon and Cleo looked hollow-eyed and exhausted in the dimming light, while Gabriel nestled once more in his sister’s lap.

  “This soup tastes like it’s come straight from heaven,” said Cleo.

  “Just some vegetables, late ones from the garden.”

  “The heavenly garden.”

  “How can you live here without being bothered, as we are?” asked Eldon. “And that Jake fellow too?”

  “Jake was able to buy his freedom. My master died some years ago. Left a will, written up for them in charge to see and read. Said I was a free man, my sister too. We found our way to this place, just outside of Ripley, built our house, and here we are.”

  “And no one’s come after you?”

  “No. Not that we rest easy. I’m thinking we’re not worth much. We’re getting on in age, and Abigail’s got the blindness. For you folks, it’s different. Your master wants you back, you and your kin.”

  “He’s not going to get us back.”

  “You folks are spent,” said Abe.

  “We truly are.”

  “And more miles to travel.”

  “We pray we have the strength,” said Cleo.

  “You’d best rest here for a day or two. Do you know how to get where you’re going?”

  “Bits and pieces.”

  “That’s no good. I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to make my way to the next station in the morning and send on a message. You need a guiding hand.”

  Abe was gone for two days. The family waited and rested, always with an ear for men’s voices or dogs barking. Cleo felt well enough to help Abigail in the kitchen, while Flower tended to her little brother.

  At dusk on the second day, they heard a bird cry, three distinct notes. “That’ll be Abe.” Abigail whistled in return, and, in a few minutes, he joined them on the porch. He was carrying two rabbits, their lifeless bodies slung over his shoulder.

  “Here I am, and with supper too.”

  “We’ve had our meal. There’s some saved for you.”

  “This is for the next one, then. We’ll be sharing it with others.”

  The next day they set out again. Abe led the horse; Cleo riding it. Flower walked beside her father, sometimes carrying Gabriel. After four hours, they approached a log house with smoke curling up from the chimney.

  A man and a woman came out to greet them. “Come on up to the porch. No sense standing here visiting in the yard.”

  They were ushered up the steps as Abe led the horse to a fenced pasture. “Come and meet Hazel. She’s going to be your guiding angel, leading you to the Promised Land.” Flower frowned with disappointment. She had pictured a big, strong man like her father, someone brave and invincible, someone capable of protecting them. Instead, a small black woman stared back at them, plain faced and ordinary.

  CHAPTER 50

  Felicia

  FELICIA PEERED out between curtain folds. Behind her was backstage bedlam. She watched the audience file into the auditorium, saw her family and friends fill the front row. Josh’s prediction was correct. Delia lifted a camera and focused.

  “My mom’s in the front row with a camera.”

  “Better not screw up then.”

  “Thanks. Now I’m really nervous.”

  Delia waved. Felicia returned the wave and abruptly closed the curtain. “Renate, you look weird with those penciled-on freckles.”

  “You look pretty funny, too, in that bonnet.”

  “My stomach feels funny. Is that what they mean by butterflies?”

  “Probably. Come and help us with Sophie. She’s bawling and ruining her makeup. It’s running all down her face.”

  They found Dodie and Sophie in the library behind a boo
kshelf. Sophie’s eyes were red-rimmed and teary. Blackened rivulets streaked her rosy cheeks. She blew her nose.

  “You sound like a fog horn.”

  Sophie tried to smile, but her mouth collapsed. “I hate this!”

  “Come on, it’s going to be fun,” said Dodie.

  “It is not! It’s your idea of fun, not mine.”

  “Well, we’re signed up, and we’ve been rehearsing for ages, and now it’s time to do it.”

  “We’ll be with you.” Renate took Sophie’s hand.

  “We’ll all stand together,” said Felicia. “We can stand a bit in front of you, if you want.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Let’s find Melissa’s mom. She’ll fix your makeup.” They walked back into their classroom where parent volunteers were applying makeup and adjusting costumes. A pencil and brush restored Sophie’s face.

  Sandy, the stage manager, poked her head in the doorway. “Five minutes to curtain. Everyone in your places, please.” Felicia felt her heartbeat quicken, squeezed Sophie’s hand. The four girls left the classroom and stationed themselves in the wings, listening as Mr. Butler introduced himself and talked about the theme of the play. Then the pianist started to play the opening theme.

  The production passed in a brilliant haze of light and color. At the end of the first act, Matt’s beard came loose and began to flap on one side of his face when he spoke. He turned and presented his good side to the audience until his scene was finished. Melissa’s mom reattached it when he returned backstage.

  When it was time for their musical number, Sophie forgot her terror; the four girls sang out clearly and in perfect harmony. For the closing scene, the whole cast joined in the final chorus:

  Someday we’ll build a school in this wonderful town,

  In this beautiful valley of ours.

  A school where children go,

  To be taught what they should know

  Someday, in this valley of ours.

  After the performance, everyone streamed into the gymnasium, which was decorated with balloons and posters. The walls were lined with tables loaded with platters of sandwiches and sweets. Felicia chose egg salad with no crusts and a round spiral of bread and creamy salmon with a pickle in the middle.