A Slave of the Shadows, page 12
I took a peek inside. “That’s all well and good. They won’t starve. But how do you suppose we are going to lower them into the well?” I asked sarcastically.
Whitney gave me a look of exasperation as she twirled around and hiked up the front of her skirt. Sure enough, there was a coil of rope hanging from the front of her petticoats. I had once again underestimated her. I smiled at her cleverness. What better way to get past Rufus and his goons unnoticed?
“I do believe I love how your mind works.” I laughed with nervous happiness and Whitney quickly hushed me. “I know. Sorry.” I lowered my voice and said, “Let’s move. We’ve taken long enough.”
As Whitney had promised, the well was only minutes from the creek. When we reached it, we peered down the dark hole. I was relieved to see it was bone dry.
Working together, we lowered Sam down first. When it was Georgia’s turn, she stepped back, concern pulling at her face. “Come on, Georgia, we have to hurry,” I insisted, scanning our surroundings. It had to be my imagination, but my skin crawled, as if someone watched us.
“I’m scared of heights, Missus,” Georgia said, edging farther from the well.
Whitney glanced over her shoulder. “We don’t have time for this, Georgia,” she said, her tone sharp with impatience. “The longer you’re in the open, the more we are at risk of being discovered. Now move along.”
“Whitney.” I narrowed my eyes at her, afraid her attitude would threaten the trust we had formed with Georgia. I rested my hands gently on Georgia’s quivering shoulders, affirming our status as friends. “I know you are scared, Georgia, but you need to find the courage you used to help your brother escape. You can’t give up yet.”
She looked from Whitney to me, then nodded.
“Thank the good Lord,” Whitney said with a sigh. Taking Georgia’s nod as her cue, she moved forward, tied the rope around Georgia’s waist, and we lowered her down, digging our heels into the ground as we struggled against her weight.
“When it’s dark, I’ll be back,” I called down.
“Yessum,” her voice echoed back.
BACK AT THE PLANTATION, WE hurried through the slave quarters and were almost back to the house when Mary Grace’s cry reached us: “No, Masa, please don’t.”
Frantic at the panic that was evident in her voice, I ran as fast as my heavy, soaked skirt would allow.
I heard Jimmy’s voice. “Masa, Miss Willow won’t take much lakin’ to you harming her nigra.”
“This way,” Whitney squeaked, pulling me toward a nearby woodshed.
“Shut the blazes up, nigger. Go away and mind your own business.” I recognized Rufus’s voice.
I heard the sound of the first punch as I rounded the corner of the shed, quickly followed by the second, which I saw Rufus deliver to the side of Jimmy’s face. Yates and Dave held Jimmy’s arms behind his back. Mary Grace was pinned by fear against the shed, her blouse torn and her breast exposed.
I’ll kill him! I seethed. “Mary Grace, to the carriage,” I demanded and when she hesitated, I yelled, “Now!” Mary Grace snapped out of her daze and bolted past us, holding her blouse closed.
“Release my slave this instant,” I yelled at Rufus’s cronies. “And if you have any wisdom in those knuckle-brain heads of yours, you will not say another word.”
The men knew better than to harm us or they would answer to Mr. Barry. They loosened their grip on Jimmy, who jerked his arms free and moved out of their reach.
Turning my anger on Rufus, I clenched my fist tight and with all my strength, I swung it square at the center of his nose. He squealed as his nose made a crunching sound and started squirting blood. “You broke my nose!”
For a second I was amazed at my own strength, until the pain throbbed through my hand. I suppressed the urge to groan and shake out the pain.
Whitney barged in to back me up. “Get yourselves back to the fields, you idiots.” Her nostrils flared.
I examined Jimmy’s face.
“I’m all right, Miss Willie.”
“To the carriage. We leave for Livingston immediately.”
“Yes, Miss Willie,” he said, keeping an eye on the men, unsure if he should leave us unattended.
“It will be fine, Jimmy. They know better than to harm us. My father will have their hides if they are stupid enough to touch us.”
With one last look at the men, Jimmy scampered away.
“A nigger lover, aren’t ya, pretty one?” Rufus jeered, his voice muffled by the dirty handkerchief he held over his nose. “It all makes perfect sense now. Well, you’d better watch your back, Missy, because I will find you and there will be hell to pay. I promise you that.” He glared balefully at me.
His threat was real and it quickened my heart. But I willed myself to remain steadfast; I couldn’t let him see that his threat rattled me.
Whitney pushed herself between us, her height allowing her to tower over the smaller man. “Are you threatening a guest on my land?” She gave him a shove backward. “I will inform my father of this. And you know how Father’s social status is everything to him. Let me assure you, you will suffer his temper, and we both know that isn’t pleasant, now, is it?” She boldly moved forward. “I’m sure you are aware of how powerful a man Miss Hendricks’s father is.” She smirked, looking him up and down.
A nerve twitched in Rufus’s face. It did not change the bold, unspoken warning in the last look he gave us before he wandered off. We had made a deadly enemy, and it terrified me.
AS THE BARRY PLANTATION SHRANK with the growing distance, I collapsed against the carriage seat. Mary Grace let out a soft moan, and I slipped an arm around her. She rested her head against my shoulder. The carriage ride of earlier was but a memory, pushed aside by the stresses and worries of the day. No words passed between us on the solemn ride home.
Livingston seemed like a breath of fresh air as we pulled up. Mary Grace exited the carriage in search of Mammy. Pulling Jimmy aside, I examined his face. “Go to the ice house and find some ice to apply to your face.”
“Thank you,” he mumbled, but he didn’t immediately leave. “I see somepin is on your mind.”
Old buzzard. Can’t get anything by him. I grinned. Speaking quietly, I set my plan in motion. “I need a covered wagon ready for tonight. Park it behind the old barn on the north side.”
“Miss Willie, what you up to now?” Concern flooded his face.
“I can’t tell you. Please make sure you have it ready at dark, and be discreet.”
“Yessum,” he said. Mumbling under his breath, he led the horses away.
I waited in my room until the house grew still before slipping down the back stairs and out a side door into the night. I scanned the darkness to make sure it was clear before I beelined it for the north barn.
The wagon stood ready, as I’d requested. Jimmy appeared to be nowhere in sight, and I was relieved, as I’d half expected to have an argument on my hands when I arrived.
Under the cover of darkness, I drove the wagon over the back field until I got to the track that led to the main road. The narrow track was barely wide enough for the wagon to fit through, and I struggled to keep the tree branches from slapping me as the horses pushed through. The branches clawed and scraped at the wagon.
The pressure of anxiety and fear made me so tense my muscles ached, and I started to question my own sanity. I was a woman alone at night. There was no telling what I could come across on the roads. Could I even lift the runaways out of the well? Say we made it back to Livingston: how would I keep them hidden without anyone finding out? I couldn’t risk Mary Grace, Jimmy, or Mammy finding out, for their own protection.
“Willow Hendricks, you have done lost your mind,” I huffed.
I talked courage into myself as I bounced along on the hard wagon seat. My inexperience at driving a wagon caused me to grip the reins tight. My knuckles were white and my hands ached from the stress. The light from the lantern hanging on the front of the wagon seemed dim in the pitch-black night.
I almost missed the white cloth Whitney had tied at the entrance of the path leading to the well. She’d placed it low in the brush where no one would notice unless they were watching for it. I turned the wagon down the rocky path and thrashed side to side as the horses pushed forward.
The meadow came into sight and I drew the wagon to a halt at the end of the path, using the trees for cover. Climbing down, I unhitched the lantern.
Scuffling came from inside the wagon.
I froze. My mouth went dry, and my heartbeat pounded in my ears.
“Miss Willie, et’s me, Jimmy.” The whisper came from behind the wagon, followed by a thump as his feet hit the ground.
I didn’t know if I should cry or hug the fool! “Jimmy, you scared the dickens out of me. What are you doing here?”
“I needed to be sho’ you weren’t gitting yourself into trouble wid dose lofty ideas you allus gittin’.” A grin crept across his face.
Relief washed over me at the sight of him. He was heavenly. I cried and laughed and crushed him into a massive hug. “It’s not safe for me to be here, let alone you, a slave.” I pulled back, frustrated that now I had endangered him.
“What you up to, Miss Willie?”
“I guess there is no keeping you safe now,” I grumbled. “Come with me; I’ll show you.”
Leaving the lantern on the floor of the wagon under the seat, I grabbed the rope and we crossed the meadow toward the well. It was so dark we stumbled along, and I wished I had the lantern to guide the way, but I knew the risk was too great. My feet got tangled in the hem of my skirt and Jimmy grabbed my elbow to catch my fall.
At the well I called down, “Georgia, Sam, it’s Willow.”
A swishing sound echoed from below and then a reply came. “We here, Miss Willow.”
I slumped against the stone wall of the well, relief overtaking me at the sound of her voice. I turned to Jimmy, who stood dumbfounded. I lifted a hand, requesting his silence. “Don’t start, Jimmy. We had no choice; they needed our help. Now, let’s tie a loop and lower it down to them. We need to get out of here fast, before Rufus and his men find us.”
He nodded and stepped up to do my bidding. Georgia helped send Sam up and as we pulled her up, I was grateful for Jimmy’s stubbornness. Whitney and I had underestimated the strength it would take to pull someone out of the well. It was hard enough to lower Georgia down, but to pull her up proved to be ten times harder.
When Georgia toppled onto the ground, Jimmy helped her up and without hesitation, he hustled them toward the wagon. Goosebumps peppered my body as I looked around and once again felt as if I were being watched. I shook my head. Such ghoulish thoughts would drive me mad. The sliver of moon provided little light, making it useless to scan the darkness, but my overactive mind made me sprint toward the wagon, spooked by an eerie feeling that I was being stalked.
We hid Georgia and her brother in the wagon under an oilcloth. “Jimmy, you go in the back too. I won’t have you seen if we encounter someone on the ride back.”
“No, Miss Willie. Et already luks amiss for you to be out for an evenin’ ride, but a ‘oman alone for sho’ be a sign dat somepin’ up.”
“Ugh…you’re right,” I huffed, annoyed. With all my efforts to protect the ones I loved, I hadn’t thought of this.
We clambered up onto the seat and turned the wagon in the open field. At the edge of the road, I told Jimmy to stop so I could retrieve the white cloth marking the trail. Then we continued on our way back to Livingston.
When Jimmy pulled the wagon up beside the barn, I jumped down with a hand from Jimmy. The plan was to move the runaways into the house without being detected while Jimmy got the wagon and horses tucked away.
Leading Georgia and Sam, I sneaked up the back staircase like we were thieves in the night. I had warned Georgia and Sam to not say a word and tread lightly, as Mammy’s and Mary Grace’s sleeping quarters were down the hall and the slight creak of a floorboard could wake them. No one was the wiser as we crept up the stairs.
When I had securely closed the bedroom door behind us, I sagged against it, relieved to be in the safety of my room. We had made it—but what was I going to do now?
“Tonight, you will stay in my closet, out of sight. Tomorrow we will get you out. But right now, we need to attend to your leg, Georgia,” I said, ushering her over to sit on the bed.
I reached under my mattress where I had hidden the bandages and ointment I’d secured earlier in the day. After I’d cleaned and bandaged the wound, we prepared to settle in for the night. Taking down some of the extra bedding Mammy stored in my closet, I helped Georgia make a comfortable pallet for her and Sam.
“I know you are probably hungry, but we can’t risk going back to the kitchen and being found out. Will you be all right until morning?”
They nodded with silent gratitude. Both showed signs of fatigue. Wishing them a good night, I closed the door.
I prepared for bed swiftly. Climbing under the covers, I leaned over and blew out the lamp on the night table. I lay awake beneath my silken sheets. My head was spinning with dire possibilities as I analyzed how we were going to get them away without anyone finding them. Whitney would come by tomorrow, and we would solidify the plan we had contrived earlier. With that thought, I fell asleep.
MORNING ARRIVED ALL TOO SOON and I was awakened by a knock at the door. I sat up in an immediate panic. “Oh, no!”
The door opened and in came Mammy. “Chile, et is ’most nine o’clock. What are you still doing lazing in dat dere bed?” She pulled the velvet drapes back and sunlight spilled in, blinding me with its brightness.
“Mammy!” I complained, covering my eyes.
“Well, you gotta git up and git on wid your day.” She frowned at me.
It was unusual for me to be in bed past five o’clock. I was thankful that I was able to quickly form an excuse. “We had a hard day yesterday, Mammy. Didn’t Mary Grace tell you?”
“You mean ’bout dat Barry overseer trying to hurt my Mary Grace and beatin’ on poor ol’ Jimmy? Dat man be a low-life good for nothin’. De devil is in his eyes, I tell ya,” she said, fluffing a pillow, sending its tassels swinging fiercely before she placed it back on the ivory chaise lounge in the corner.
“It was overwhelming, Mammy. And I was so scared for them. Do you mind bringing me a tray in my room? I think I’ll have breakfast in bed today.” I felt a tinge of guilt as Mammy eyed me with genuine concern.
“I’ll be right back, chile. You jus’ lay your head back and rest.” She leaned down, tucking the blankets in around me as she had done every night when I was a child.
Mammy left to prepare my breakfast.
I thought back to the time before my twelfth birthday. It had been a nightly routine for Mammy to come and wish me good night; she would sit on the edge of my bed and pull my covers up under my chin before tucking them snug around me. After a brief chat, she would blow out the light.
I recalled saying to her one evening, “Mammy, I’m a grown woman now, and I don’t need you to be swaddling me in like a baby.”
Mammy had smiled a sad smile before replying, “All right, Li’l Miss, as you say.”
I noted her sadness and jumped up and hugged her tightly. “But I will always love you, Mammy, like you were my own real mama.” I declared my love with the pureness of a child.
Mammy kissed my forehead and said, “You real sweet, angel gal.” She blew out the lantern and ever since that night, Mammy never came again to tuck me in.
The door opened and Mammy entered carrying a silver tray. A single yellow rose lay beside the dishes. Breakfast was a feast for a queen, with two hard-boiled eggs, a slab of ham, a bowl of fresh-cut fruit, and two slices of thick toast served with jam and honey, along with a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee. Mammy always tried to spoil me with food; it was her way of showing love. She set the tray down on the nightstand.
“Thanks, Mammy, this looks amazing.” She smiled and patted my shoulder affectionately before shuffling out of the room and closing the door behind her.
As her footsteps faded off, I threw the covers back and scrambled to the closet. Georgia and Sam sat huddled together, their faces anguished.
“It’s safe. Come out.” I beckoned, then guided them to the bed. “Sit.” I handed them the tray.
“What ’bout you?” Sam asked around a mouthful of toast.
“You eat. I will eat something later. But make sure you leave a little, so Mammy doesn’t suspect I have grown a second stomach.” I winked at him, giving his wooly hair a tousle.
The two devoured the food in no time. Behind the privacy screen, with Georgia’s help, I dressed for the day. After a quick use of the chamber pot, Georgia and Sam returned to the closet. The sun shone through its small window, providing light in the claustrophobic space. Seated at my vanity, I braided my hair and tied a red ribbon on the end of the braid before heading downstairs.
The house was alive with activity. House slaves scrubbed the floors and I was mindful not to step in the areas they had recently cleaned. I found Mammy and Mary Grace dusting in the library.
Mary Grace looked up as I entered. “Morning, Miss Willow.” Then her brows drew into a frown at my appearance.
“What?” I smoothed my hair.
“Your hair, it’s farm-girl plain,” Mary Grace said boldly.
“Mary Grace!” I laughed at her playful insult.
“Mama said you wanted to relax for a spell or I would have come and fixed it properly.”
“Well, it’s done, and it will do fine for today.” I chuckled at her sass.
“Hello?” I heard Whitney’s voice before she ducked her head into the room. She held my parasol in one hand and a parcel in the other. “Thaddeus told me I could find you in here. He was going to show me in, but I insisted I’d show myself. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Whitney, what a surprise,” I said with a smile.
“You left your parasol yesterday. I thought I would stop by and personally deliver it.”
