The Freedom Thief

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The Freedom Thief Page 5

by Mikki Sadil


  Ben dropped his fork as Andrew said, “Pa, is he coming for Josiah?”

  “Yes, I reckon so. He wants to look him over tomorrow, and he’ll be taking off with him the next morning. I don’t know why he’d want the boy, but twenty dollars is twenty dollars, and probably more than I could get for him at auction.”

  Ben pushed away from the table. “Pa, how can you do this? I…”

  “Ben, you have no say in this matter, and I will thank you to hold your tongue. Nothing is going to change simply because you don’t like it. Josiah will be sold and will leave tomorrow, if this man likes him, and that’s the end of it.”

  “I hope I never think like you do.” Ben stood and backed away from the table. “These people are human, just like us. They have families just like us. They’re not some kind of, of, commodity like you said or something that you can buy and sell whenever you want. If you sell Josiah, I will always be sorry I’m your son.”

  In the stunned silence that followed, Ben ran up the kitchen stairs and the slam of his door reverberated through the house.

  * * * *

  The next morning, Ben woke up to pounding on his door. Before he was out of bed, his father came in. “Benjamin, if you think I’m going to let your behavior of last night go unheeded, you’d best be thinking again. Get dressed and get downstairs, now!” He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

  A few minutes later, Ben stood in front of his father. “Ben, I’m not going to tolerate your disrespect over my selling a slave. Josiah is unable to work and earn his keep and therefore he will be sold. That is the end of it.”

  Pa put his hand on Ben’s shoulder, but he twisted away. “I’ll never understand you, Pa. I don’t recollect you as being so mean before.”

  His father shrugged. “What you don’t understand is that I’m not being ‘mean’, as you call it, I am being financially responsible as any slave holder would be. Now, my decision is final and that is the end of this discussion. In the meantime, to make up for your behavior, you will spend the entire day working in the barn and on the track with the horses. Your brothers will tell you what to do. You will follow their orders exactly, and I will hear no complaints or arguments, understand?”

  Ben’s heart dropped. Pa wasn’t going to listen to him at all. That meant he had to convince Bess to leave tonight.

  “Ben!” Pa’s voice thundered at him. “Are you listening to me? I have no time to waste this morning. I want you to get out to the barn, get the stalls mucked and your other chores done so you’ll be ready to go to the track. One of your brothers will bring you something to eat later. Go!”

  Without speaking, Ben turned and raced to the barn. He thought if he could get the stalls cleaned before breakfast was over, he might be able to catch up to Bess before his brothers came out.

  Ben worked as fast as he could, but he had just started on the tenth stall when James came in, holding a small tray with a mug of coffee, two boiled eggs, and a large piece of cornbread with bacon.

  “You hurry up and finish that stall and eat your breakfast. I’m to wait here for you, then you’re going out to the track with me and Andrew. How can you be so dumb, Benji, thinking you could shoot your mouth off at Pa like that, and get away with it?”

  “Leave me alone, James. I meant what I said. Besides, what do you care?”

  “You’re my little brother, that’s why. I know I give you a hard shake sometimes, but I do care what happens to you. Here.” He handed the tray to Ben. “Give me the rake and I’ll finish this little bit while you eat.” He laughed at the look on Ben’s face. “Like Ma would say, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Just eat so we can get out to the track.”

  * * *

  Six hours later, Ben was so tired he could hardly move. He had ridden each of the ten Thoroughbreds around the six furlongs’ track at a walk, a trot, and finally a canter. Each horse had to be cooled down, then bathed, dried, brushed, and put away.

  As he worked, he thought about how Andrew and James loved the Thoroughbreds they bred and trained along with Pa. They were too strong-willed for him. He knew Pa was disappointed in him, but the only horse he was comfortable on was Grammy’s big Morgan horse, Traveler.

  Now, Ben sighed and finished putting the last horse up. He patted him on the withers and took pride is the soft feel of the horse’s coat. Each one of the horses shone with the rubdown Ben had given them, and he hoped Pa would be pleased about that. He walked out of the barn to come face to face with Andrew.

  “Well, little brother, you did good today. Pa will be proud. James and me will feed tonight, so you can go on in.”

  He walked into the kitchen, expecting to see Bess but she wasn’t there. As he started up to his room, Pa called him into the parlor.

  “Ben, this is Mister Pembrook. He’ll be staying the night.”

  The man rising from the chair to shake hands was scarcely taller than Ben. His black pants showed dust from the road, and a black vest hung loosely over a skinny frame. Greasy grey hair clumped over the stained collar of a white shirt, and when he grinned, the gaping lips revealed several teeth were missing, and those left looked to be almost the same color as his hair. His breath was foul, and Ben wrinkled his nose.

  “Well, hello there, Ben. I reckon you’d be brother number three?”

  Ben didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at the leathery, dirty hand held out to him. He hadn’t liked this man before he met him, and he liked him even less now.

  Pa frowned. “Mind your manners, Benjamin. I want you to find Josiah, and bring him here. Mister Pembrook was late in arriving today, and he wants to look him over.”

  Ben stared at his father. “No, I won’t find him. If this man wants to see Josiah, he can go find him himself.” He stormed out of the room and slammed the parlor door behind him.

  Ben went up to his room and threw himself down on the bed. He scrunched the pillow under his head and stared at the ceiling. He balled his hands into fists and slammed them against the quilt, but before he could even think of what to do, his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

  When Ben awoke, it was dark, but the rich aroma of freshly roasted chickens wafted up from the kitchen. For some reason, supper seemed to be late. He got up and hastily washed and changed into clean clothes. He opened his door a crack and listened. He could hear Bess laying the table for supper, but the bell hadn’t rung yet. He closed the door and began to pace back and forth. Bess has to believe me about Pa selling Josiah, now that she’s had to make up the spare room for this Pembrook guy. No matter what, we have to leave here tonight.

  Chapter Six

  At supper, Andrew and James asked Mister Pembrook many questions about his business travels, and it was obvious the man was impressed enough with himself to speak long and loudly about his successes.

  At one point, Grammy said, “Mister Pembrook, what about Josiah? Are you taking him tomorrow? You know, of course, that he is crippled? He can’t work in the fields, and he’s too clumsy with that bad leg to be a house slave. Just what are your plans for such a young boy?”

  The man reached across the table to pat Grammy on the hand. “Now, now, Missus Tate, don’t you fret yourself none ’bout that boy. If he don’t pan out for me, there’s all kinds of places I can sell him to. N’Awlens, for one.”

  Grammy snatched her hand out from under his, and both she and Ma gasped. New Orleans was well known for the infamous things that happened to slaves sold to markets in that area. All of them were bad.

  Ma all but slammed her coffee mug down on the table. “Mister Pembrook! Surely you would not do such a dastardly thing with a child such as Josiah? I can’t believe…”

  “Laura, that’s enough.” Pa’s voice rumbled through the dining room. “What Mister Pembrook does with Josiah, once he’s bought and paid for, is of no concern to you. I’ll not have you question a guest in this house.”

  “I’ve had enough. I’m not gonna sit here and listen to this talk about Josiah anymore.” Ben pushed back
his chair so hard it fell over and stomped out of the room.

  His father roared, “Benjamin, get back here immediately!”

  Ben ignored him and went up to his room. He pulled his knapsack out from under his bed and began packing it. He stuffed it with two heavy shirts, a pair of pants, an extra jacket that was small enough for Josiah, and a couple of his mother’s hand-knit mufflers. The September winds were carrying a strong hint of the coming fall. When he finished, he tried to stick his big quilt in to see if it would fit, but there was only room enough for a blanket.

  He slipped his jackknife and the old key Grammy had given him into his pocket, put one of his largest wood carving knives in the knapsack, and shoved the knapsack under his bed. He looked around the room. One knapsack didn’t seem like much to take for a journey that, at the moment, had no end in terms of either distance or time. He couldn’t think of anything else he might need, until he remembered the old compass he had used to find the barn. He took it out of his desk drawer and slipped it in the same pocket with the jackknife and key.

  When he heard his grandmother come upstairs, he walked down the hall and tapped on the door.

  “Come in, Ben.”

  He walked over and gave her a hug. ‘How did you know it was me, Grammy?”

  She smiled. “I just knew. Is there something special you want to talk about, Ben?”

  He looked at this lady whom he loved with all his heart, and whom he knew he might never see again after tonight. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders as her eyes searched his. Her silvery white hair was beginning to trickle down from its upswept style, her faint lavender fragrance drifted gently through the room, and for a minute, Ben felt tears clogging his throat. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “No, Grammy, nothing special. I just wanted to say goodnight. It’s been a long day.”

  She reached out and took his hand. “I expect it’s going to be an even longer night, Ben. Remember always that I love you, and I’m proud of the young man you’re becoming. I want you to think about this, when the road one takes is unfamiliar, it often sprouts out in different directions. It’s mighty hard to decide if the path one chooses is the right one. Sometimes the best decision is the one requiring a leap of faith. Do you understand?”

  He was quiet for a moment. “I… I think I do. I’ll think hard on it.”

  She looked at him closely and nodded. “Yes, I think you do. Good night, Ben. I love you.”

  He hugged her hard. “Night, Grammy. I love you, too.” When he released her, he saw that tears filled the dark green eyes that were so like his own.

  He went back to his room and began the wait for the house to settle and become quiet.

  Ben squirmed around on his bed until the covers twisted as tight as if he’d tied them in a knot. There was no time for worry, no time for regrets about leaving his family and his one shot at a higher education behind. If they were going to escape, it had to be now or Josiah would be gone tomorrow. He sat up on the edge of his bed, fully dressed except for his shoes.

  Except for the quiet sounds of the grandfather’s clock in the library striking nine, the house was silent. His brothers and parents had long since closed their bedroom doors. Before he had time for second thoughts, he picked up the knapsack and his work shoes and tiptoed down the stairs. Half way down, his stocking feet slipped and he had to grab the railing to keep from falling. The knapsack fell from his hands and bumped its way down to the bottom of the stairs.

  Ben froze. His heart banged against his chest and sweat trickled down his back. He was sure that any minute someone would come running out to see what all the noise was. The house remained quiet.

  For what seemed like an hour, but could only have been a few minutes, Ben didn’t move. When he was sure no one had awakened, he hung on to the railing and took the rest of the steps two at a time. At the bottom, he picked up his knapsack and stepped into the kitchen.

  He put on his heavy jacket and work shoes, and stuck the gloves in a pocket. His hand shook as he reached for the iron key ring hanging next to the back door. He managed to slip it off the hook without dropping it and headed out to the larder.

  Once inside, he stood still to let his eyes get accustomed to the darkness. In a minute, he saw a lantern on a shelf that he lit with the matches laying beside it. The warm glow of the lantern played along the many shelves full of jars of fruit, vegetables, and jams Ma and Grammy had put up. He swallowed hard, knowing he might never get to taste them again, raised the lantern, and made his way to the root cellar.

  The hard-packed dirt floor made his footsteps inaudible, and the room itself was cool and damp, with little droplets of water resting on the stone sides. The light was dim, but it was enough to see several large hams and slabs of bacon hanging from hooks, and even two batches of butter biscuits that Bess had evidently baked just that morning. He walked deeper into the cellar and saw a platter of thick slices of ham covered with a linen napkin, and a big basket of freshly picked apples.

  He took one of his shirts out of his knapsack, and spread it out on the floor. He wrapped all the ham slices in the napkin, and put the napkin on the center of his shirt. He dumped one whole batch of biscuits on top of the ham, added some apples, and then looked longingly at all the fruit. He placed two jars of peaches in his shirt and tied it into a neat package, but when he picked it up he realized that it was far too heavy to carry with his knapsack. He sighed, took out the peaches and retied his shirt. At least it wasn’t so heavy now.

  He closed and locked the larder door, raced to the kitchen to return the keys, and ran down to the slave quarters to knock on Jesse and Bess’s door. A long moment passed before Jesse opened the door, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He frowned when he saw Ben.

  “Boy, what all you doing this time o’ night? What you doing out here?” He smothered a yawn as he peered into Ben’s face.

  “Shh, Jesse, be quiet and listen. The man’s here, the one who’s going to buy Josiah. He came a lot sooner than I thought he would, but he’s asleep in the house. Come on, we’ve got to leave. I know how to get you away from here.”

  Before Jesse could do more than look at Ben in shock, Bess came up behind him. “Ben, you not foolin,’ boy? That man I made up the room for, he gonna take my boy away?”

  “Listen to me! I’m not fooling. Mister Pembrook is going to take Josiah with him in the morning. Get your stuff together, we’ve got to hurry.”

  While Ben was waiting for them, he looked back at the house. This was his life he was leaving; Ma and Grammy, the boys, Pa. What was he doing? He thought about all the things that “home” meant to him — all of his precious books he was leaving behind; the possible chance of going to school in Lexington; the heavily laden table at Thanksgiving, with the turkey and pumpkin pies; the smell of the gingerbread cookies Ma made for him every Christmas. All of this would be lost to him if he took one step away from the plantation, with Josiah and his parents behind him.

  He found it hard to take a breath, with his heart beating so fast. His thoughts were tumbling around in his mind like small whirlwinds. He had to do this, even if it was going against all his parents believed it. At the same time, he realized he didn’t even know for sure where the Ohio River was.

  The memory of Cracker’s body swinging from the tree came to mind, as did the thought of what Mister Pembrook had said about selling Josiah down to New Orleans. Ben had heard the slaves talking about what happened when one of the runaways was found and taken to New Orleans. It was far worse than being a slave on a plantation. He shook his head. He knew that even if he never came home again, this was the right thing to do.

  He brushed angrily at the tears in his eyes, just as the door opened and Bess, Jesse, and Josiah slipped out. Jesse carried a worn blanket with what few possessions they had tied up in it.

  Josiah rubbed his eyes, still half asleep. “Ben, Mama say somebody gonna buy me and take me away. You not gonna let them do that, are you, Ben? I gonna stay with Mama and Papa?”
<
br />   Ben gave the boy a big hug. “Yes, you’re going to stay with your mama and papa. But we have to leave here and go far away, and we have to go as fast as we can. Can you do that, Josiah?”

  He nodded and hugged Ben back, just as Bess laid her hand on Ben’s arm.

  “Ben,” she whispered, “you be sure ’bout this? You givin’ up lots just for us and Josiah. Them tears in your eyes aren’t for nothin’, boy. Maybe we can do this by ourselves.”

  “No, Bess, you can’t.” Ben’s voice quivered, but his tears were gone. “Come on, let’s get going.” Without another word, Ben led the way past the slave quarters and on toward the corrals, where he stopped for a moment to pat Traveler on the nose. He whispered, “You be a good boy, you hear? Maybe I can come back someday and take you with me.” The gelding nickered softly and rubbed his nose against Ben’s hand. Ben gave him a last pat and hurried on toward the northern edge of the plantation. The moon was so small it gave off only enough light to make out the shadows of the forest beyond the plantation.

  They reached the woods and stopped for a brief rest. Ben opened his knapsack and took out the extra jacket. When he had helped Josiah put it on over the light one he wore, Ben pulled out the smaller pair of shoes he’d brought.

  “Here, Josiah, put these on. They’re probably too big, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “No, Ben, no shoes. And you’d best take yours off, too.”

  “Take my shoes off? But, Bess, why? The ground is really cold.”

  “Boy, don’t you know nothin’?” Jesse’s heavy eyebrows clenched together above his nose.

  “Them dogs be trackin’ us, and they smell what’s on the shoes. Bess has onions we rub on our feets, then dogs can’t smell us.” He took an onion out of the blanket Bess carried and handed it to Ben.

  Reluctantly, Ben took off his shoes and stockings and rubbed the onion all over his feet and up his legs. He barely managed to get the heavy shoes into the knapsack but he was determined not to leave them behind.

 

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