by Mikki Sadil
Ben looked around the tiny space and back to Jesse. His stomach buckled as he realized the knapsack was still in the bed of the wagon.
“Look around, Jesse,” said Ben. “Do you see the knapsack the Quaker family gave us? Mister Lewis rushed us so much we left it on the wagon.”
“You left it? We gots nothin’ to eat?” Jesse’s eyes popped with anger, and his voice was a hoarse snarl. Ben didn’t answer, just squirmed around trying to find a spot to fit his body halfway comfortably.
Time crept by. As stiff as they had been from laying in the wagon so long, it was nothing compared to the discomfort of sitting in this cramped space. The air coming through the spaces between the rafters was barely enough to take a deep breath, and Ben wondered how long they could all survive like this. Then, as the light flickering through the rafters dimmed, someone came into the barn.
The ladder banged against the loft, and a few seconds later, the door opened. The face that appeared was long, creased, and sported a short, bushy brown beard.
“Well, hello there. I’m Cal Andrews. Welcome to my barn!” He laughed, and his beard whisked back and forth under his chin. “I know you’re not very comfortable up here, but come nightfall, I’ll set you up in a better place in the house. We’ll get to know each other then.” With those words, he disappeared only to reappear a moment later with a jug of water and several apples. “Here, this’ll have to hold you ’til I come again.” The door to the loft shut and hay bales scrunched as the man pushed them against the door. He dropped the ladder and then all was quiet.
Bess looked at Ben, and he shrugged. “Don’t ask questions, Bess, ’cause I don’t have any answers.”
He took one of the apples and picked up the water jug. He took a long drink and passed it to Jesse along with the rest of the apples.
He settled back down and tried to quiet the thoughts trampling around in his brain like a herd of elephants on the loose. He had never thought that helping his friends to escape would be putting all their lives in the hands of strangers who might or might not be trustworthy. That was the problem. He hadn’t thought, and no matter how noble his instincts had been, whatever happened was on his head.
A cold chill started down his spine, but Ben shook it off and sat up straighter. Well, Pa always says when we’re old enough to take responsibility for what we do, it means we’re not children any more. So I guess I’m about grown.
A short time later, the loft door opened and Mister Andrews’s head appeared again.
“Hey, wake up, y’all. It’s getting on towards dark, so you need to come down and get into the house. Come on, now.” He poked Jesse’s foot, earning a snarl from the big man.
Mister Andrews stepped down the ladder. “Y’all get down here right away, hear? We got no time to lose.”
As soon as they were down, Mister Andrews opened the barn door and looked outside. A bitter cold wind rustled the trees and blew through the open door, bringing with it the faint sound of a bobcat’s scream. He pushed the door a bit wider and motioned to Ben. “Come on, one at a time. Walk straight to the house and in the back door. Don’t dawdle.”
When they walked into the kitchen, Missus Andrews greeted them with a smile.
“You are welcome here, my friends. Go into the dining room, and I will set the table.”
Bess stepped forward as Missus Andrews took a ham out of the wood stove. “Mistress, I help you with that. We don’t need no waitin’ on.”
Missus Andrews said, “Bess, I am not your “mistress,” nor anyone’s. We all help each other best as we can. Go, sit, food will be on the table shortly.”
Bess shook her head, but went into the dining room and sat down. Ben felt nauseous. The woman had called Bess by her name, but how did she know that? Charity said there were posters everywhere about us, with a reward offered. So these people know who we are. He swallowed, but the sick feeling didn’t go away.
In another minute, the Andrews’ came into the dining room carrying a large platter of ham, biscuits and gravy, and bowls of carrots and sweet potatoes. They set the food down, drew out their own chairs, and everyone began to eat.
When their plates were empty, Missus Andrews said, “Mister Lewis didn’t tell us your names, but we read a poster about the reward for a young white boy and his slaves. You must be Ben McKenna, am I right?”
Ben put his fork down and exchanged a look with Bess. He was right. The news had traveled far indeed. “Yes, I’m Ben.”
“Well, you seem very young to have done such a brave thing as helping your slaves to escape.” Missus Andrews avoided looking at Ben when she spoke.
Ben ducked his head. “I don’t think I’m brave, ma’am. I did what I thought I had to do.”
She buttered her last biscuit and took a bite. “Hmm…I see. You’re still young to be doing something like this.”
Mister Andrews took a noisy sip of his coffee before saying in an off-hand manner, “These slaves must be right valuable, for all that reward that’s offered.”
Ben saw the look that passed between Mister and Missus Andrews, and his stomach gave a leap. Something here caused Ben to be very uneasy.
Chapter Thirteen
Mister Andrews stood and took one of the oil lamps from the table. “Y’all follow me. We got some better place for you to stay than the barn.”
As they followed the man out of the dining room, Ben’s heart thumped wildly. Mister Lewis said they were good people, and he would know, wouldn’t he? Besides, the Quaker family wouldn’t let him take us somewhere it wasn’t safe.
Mister Andrews led them up a staircase and down a hall. He stopped and opened a door to a closet lined with shelves holding bed, bath, and table linens. He handed the lamp to Ben, walked a few feet into the closet, and began removing the linens. He set them all on the floor and pushed on the middle shelf. The center of the wall opened up, and inside was nothing but darkness. He turned to Ben.
“Hand me the lamp. Y’all come on in here. It’s a mite bigger and more comfortable than that place in the barn. Y’all be safe here.”
They followed him into a large bedroom with two narrow rope beds holding an assortment of blankets, quilts, and pillows. Two old rockers sat on either side of a small table, and a dilapidated armoire stood against one wall. In a far corner sat a water jug, a washbasin, and a chamber pot. A well-used Victorian sofa with the stuffing showing through small tears on one side leaned haphazardly against another wall. The walls were rough-hewn planks, the kind Ben had seen in the barn, yet the room appeared to be a part of the second-story.
Ben turned to Mister Andrews. “Is this an attic?”
“No, t’aint part of the attic. This here’s a regular room the missus and me walled off to be a safe place for you runaways. We get to the attic through a different door and a ladder. Don’t go worrying on it, if them slave hunters come, they go up and look in the attic, but they’ll never find this room. Now, we got some rules. See up there?” He pointed toward the ceiling at the far end of the room.
“That there skylight opens into the real attic. There’s windows in the attic that let in light during the day. Nighttime, there’s no light. Rule number one is you don’t never open that skylight. Just let it be. Rule two, you don’t make no noise in here. No loud talking, or fussing, and keep that kid quiet, too. Rule three, y’all don’t try to open the door, ’cause it ain’t gonna open from this side. Either me or the missus will bring up your food and water and empty that there chamber pot, but y’all stay put until we tell you different. Y’all understand them rules?”
“Yes, we understand them. Do you have any idea how long we’ll be here?”
The man frowned. “You listen to me, boy. You don’t ask questions, and I don’t give answers. You stay here as long as I say, until it’s safe to move you. We don’t cotton to having trouble when we help slaves. I don’t know how long you be here, but you best be glad you’re here. You understand?”
Ben took a step back. “We’re not going to g
ive you trouble, and we’re grateful for the help. But we’ve been on the road a long time, and we’re all anxious about what’s happening next.”
Mister Andrews’s face turned from friendly to a nasty sneer. “Yeah? Well, see that you follow them rules, all of you.” He glared at Ben, handed him the lamp, and walked out. A moment later, he placed another small kerosene lamp, a box of matches, and a large jug of water on the floor. Without another word, he slammed the door shut. They heard thumping against the wall as the man restacked the linens. When he finished, there was nothing but silence.
Ben looked around the room. It may have been a “regular” room, as Mister Andrews had said, but it seemed strange to Ben that it didn’t have any windows. He searched the walls, and found several small places that served as air vents. Too small for anyone to break and get out of, but at least they would be getting fresh air.
He turned to Bess and Jesse. “I reckon we’re going to be here awhile. At least we’ve had some food, and we have real beds to sleep in. You take one, and Josiah and I will take the other.”
Bess was staring at the door. Ben saw the worry on her face as she turned to him. “You trust that man? I gets a funny feelin’ in my belly when he talk.”
Ben sighed. He had hoped his uneasiness was all in his own mind. “I know, Bess. Me, too. But you heard Mister Lewis say they were good people who helped runaways. Mister Andrews is just, uh, well, some different from the Quakers. We’ll be fine, I’m sure of it.” He ignored the faint taste of bile in his throat and the twist in his belly.
Josiah came up to him. “You and me sleep in the same bed, Ben?”
“Sure, Josiah. Why, don’t you want to?”
He giggled. “It be fine, Ben. I mostly has to sleep with Mama and Papa or on the floor with lots of other peoples. It be fun to sleep with onliest one somebody.”
Bess and Jesse crawled onto one of the narrow beds, pulling the covers over them. Ben helped Josiah onto the bed, piled some quilts around him, and blew out the largest lamp. He took the smaller one and set it on the rickety table. He sat in one of the rockers and looked around the room. Sparsely furnished, it still radiated a kind of warmth, certainly more so than the other places they had been hiding. The lone lamp cast a warm glow around the room, making the shadows seem less intimidating than they had been earlier.
Ben went over to the old armoire and quietly opened it. An essence of lavender, mixed with a faint muskiness, floated out. Inside were clothes of every kind — women’s dresses, shoes, scarves, and coats; men’s trousers, sweaters, and jackets; and even some smaller shirts and overalls obviously for children. The clothes were worn, even ragged in some instances, but all were clean. Why would all these clothes be here? Do they give them to the slaves who stay here, or do they take them off… Ben shook himself, wanting to dislodge frightening thoughts. I have to stop thinking that way. We’re safe for now and that’s what counts. Nevertheless, his stomach refused to unwind.
Behind the clothes were stacks of history, math, English, and geography books, as well as fiction books for both children and adults. Next to the books was an old box with a bunch of games in it. Ben started to reach for a book to read, but decided he was too tired. He turned the lantern down, crawled into bed with Josiah, and in a matter of minutes he was sound asleep.
When Ben awoke again, faint morning light came in from the skylight, and a small, delighted laugh pointed him to Josiah, who sat in front of the armoire. He had pulled picture books out of the old cupboard, while bags of marbles and jackstraws, dominoes, jacks, a checkerboard with red and white checkers, and a chessboard with pewter playing pieces sprawled on the floor around him.
“I guess you found the games, huh, Josiah?” Ben asked, with a grin.
The little boy’s face lit up. “Yah, Ben, lotsa games and books here! You can read me the books, an’ these games, uh, Ben, I don’t know how to play, but you teach me, yah, Ben?”
Ben swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his shoes. “Sure, I’ll teach you how to play the games. And I’ll read some of the books to you, but mostly I’m gonna keep on teaching you how to read for yourself. That’s some better, Josiah.”
After Missus Andrews came to collect their breakfast dishes, which had been hot bread, bacon, and porridge with brown sugar, Ben sat down with Josiah and they began to go through the books. Jesse paced back and forth while Bess sat in one of the rockers. She and Jesse talked to each other, but Ben knew how difficult it was for Jesse to be confined to this small space. He was a big man, used to hard work and the outdoors. Ben knew that his belligerent attitude was due to the fear that slave hunters would catch up with them. He had misgivings about Jesse’s ability to stay in one place for very long.
In the days and weeks that followed, Ben and his friends fell into a monotonous kind of routine. They took turns using the chamber pot and washing in the big china basin, hidden behind a rough curtain hanging from the ceiling in the back of the room. Mister Andrews came in every morning before his wife brought up breakfast to empty the pot and bring up fresh water for the basin. After breakfast, Ben sat down with Josiah and continued teaching him to read. Sometimes Josiah would pick up a more advanced storybook, and Ben would read to him. Later, they would play a game, and occasionally Bess and Jesse would join them for a few games of checkers. Other times, Bess took one of the children’s books and tried to teach herself to read, while Jesse paced, his restlessness barely contained.
One day, Jesse stood over Ben as he and Josiah were playing Jackstraws. “Iffen you don’t ask them peoples when we gonna be outta here, I’m gonna do it.”
Ben didn’t look up from the game. “All right, Jesse. When Missus Andrews comes to bring supper, I’ll ask her. But don’t get mad at me if she doesn’t give me an answer.”
When the door opened at suppertime, it was Mister Andrews carrying the big tray. As he put it down carelessly on the rickety table, Ben put his hand on the man’s arm. “Mister Andrews, I need to know about when you think we’re going to get out of here. We’ve been here awhile now, and we’re anxious to move on to the river.”
The man glared at Ben. “How many times do I have to tell you, don’t ask me questions. You’ll move when arrangements are made, and not until then. Take your hand offen my arm, or I’ll break it.” His voice was a snarl.
Ben removed his hand, but said stubbornly, “Look, you don’t have to be so mean. We’re cooped up in this little room, and nobody tells us anything. We just want to get out of here and get on to finding the river.”
Mister Andrews took a step forward until he was almost nose-to-nose with Ben and smiled. Ben thought it was the most evil smile he’d ever seen. “I reckon as how you’d best quit’cherbellyachin’. You got food, bed to sleep in, and you best recollect you and them slaves ain’t no kind of royalty, so be glad for what you get, boy, or you’ll get nothing.”
The man turned away and came nose-to-chest with Jesse, who had come up behind him.
“You best not be troublin’ this here boy, white man, or I mess with you. You not gonna like that.”
Ben looked at Mister Andrews and saw his face pale. After all, Jesse loomed over the man by more than a foot. He put both hands on Jesse’s chest, pushed hard, and slipped past him. He hurried to the door and slammed it shut after him. It was only after Ben heard the linens being slammed on the shelves that the twisted knot in his stomach slowly began to ease.
Ben had been marking the days’ passing on the wall with his penknife, and on the twenty-eighth day, he heard someone taking the linens away from the door. Instead of the door opening, he heard Mister Andrews’s rough voice.
“Well, now, what you boys doin’ up here where you got no business bein’?”
Not long before, Ben had heard horses coming up to the house and men’s loud voices. Since the Andrews often had visitors, he had thought nothing of it. Now, however, he placed his cheek against the wall to listen to the voices outside.
Ben couldn’t he
ar all of the conversation, but at one point, he drew in a deep breath and pushed his ear closer to the wall.
“Andrews, we knowed you got …hid here ’bouts. There’s… handsome reward. A thousand dollars …more’n we…ever… We…split…three ways. …tonight, we take … boy and slaves. You try…stop us…you be sorry. Now…you in or…?”
The voice Ben heard turned his blood to ice. The rough voice of the ruffian Phineas Taylor was unmistakable. This was the man who had chased Ben and his grandmother. The man the Marshal had warned them about.
Pa sure must want them back real bad if he had offered a thousand dollar reward. Probably just so he can sell Josiah, and maybe even Bess and Jesse if he’s mad enough. I doubt he cares a thousand dollars’ worth about me.
Ben knew if Phineas got him and the slaves, he could kill them all without a second thought. He also knew that if the poster offered the reward for finding them and not specifically for returning them, Phineas could still legally get the money even if they were all dead. All he had to do was show proof of whom he had killed. There was no choice. They had to get away from the Andrews now.
Chapter Fourteen
Ben didn’t hear what Mister Andrews replied. He pushed away from the wall and turned to Bess and Jesse. Bess laid her hand on his arm but before she could speak, he motioned for them to come to the far end of the room. He whispered, “Andrews is going to sell us out. We need to get out of here.”
Jesse’s face turned almost white. “What you saying, boy?”
Ben shook his head. “Shhh, Jesse, don’t say a word. We can’t let on we heard anything. Be quiet, and let me think.”
Jesse sat down and hunched his shoulders. Bess sat down beside Josiah, who was reading, and put her arm around him. Ben walked the length of the room and back again. He kept looking up at the skylight.
Bess whispered, “Ben, how we goin’ to get away? Ain’t no way out ’ceptin’ by that door, and anyhow, it’s bright day outside.”