The Freedom Thief

by Mikki Sadil

  Ben shook his head violently as if to shake all the memories out. He turned around and saw Bess and Jesse watching him.

  Bess’s voice was soft as she said, “We be sorry, Ben. Jesse and me, we knows what you give up to help us get free. We be mighty grateful.”

  Jesse said roughly, “Boy, you got a fambly back there. You wants to get on towards home, it be okay. Massa Thaddeus, him and the missus’ll get us to the river, I be sure of it.”

  For a moment, Ben’s heart beat faster as he thought about home and seeing his family again. The small family stood looking at him and memories of the past months and the hardships they had endured together blocked out everything else. Everything we’ve gone through, the times we’ve all been afraid…this is my doing, right or wrong. My fourteenth birthday came in November and I didn’t even remember it, but it means I’m almost a man. This is my responsibility.

  He shook his head.

  “No, Jesse, I’m not going to leave you here. These people may be all right, but I’ll not take that chance. We’ve come this far together. We’ll go all the way together. We’ll get to the Ohio, come hell or high water. When you are all safe, that’s when I’ll think about going home.”

  * * *

  Christmas Day was bright and clear, the sun was shining and only a thin blanket of snow covered the ground. Maggie brought their breakfast up to them. “I’ll be right back, but thee go ahead and start eating.”

  She returned in a minute with four packages wrapped in colored paper and foil. She handed one to each of them. “Merry Christmas! I know it must be hard to be away from all thee knows on this day. ’Tis but a wee token to make Christmas a bit more cheery.” She smiled and left the room.

  Josiah tore open his package and produced a shiny new tin soldier and horse. “Looky, here, Mama and Papa, looky what I got. A real toy! Looky, Ben, a real toy!” As soon as he said that, he clapped a small hand over his mouth, and his eyes filled with tears.

  “Ben, I sorry. Don’t be mad. You carve me real toys, too. But I not have them anymore. You mad with me, Ben?”

  Ben went over to Josiah and gave him a tight hug. “No, Josiah, I’m not in the least mad. My toys were homemade things, and this is a real store-bought one. You’re one lucky boy, my friend.”

  Josiah laughed, brushed the tears from his round face, and hugged Ben back. “Yah, Ben, your toys are good ones, too. But I never has a store-bought toy afore.”

  They each received a long scarf, very soft and in dark colors, hand-knit for them by Maggie. Jesse held his out. “Ben, this mean we gonna leave soon for the river?”

  Ben shook his head. “I don’t know, Jesse. Thaddeus and Maggie are real good to us, but they’ve not said when we might be leaving here.” He looked out at the sunny day. “Weather seems like it’s getting better, so maybe they’ll tell us something soon.” He chose to ignore the little “what if” that continued to creep into his mind, even after all this time.

  It wasn’t long before the sounds of music came up to the room from below. Someone was playing the piano, and the strands of “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear,” and “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” drifted up to the hidden room. They heard the voices of perhaps a dozen men and women laughing and singing during the afternoon.

  As the light dimmed and evening came with no supper brought up, Ben said, “Well, maybe we got such a big breakfast this morning so we wouldn’t be too hungry for supper. With all those guests Maggie and Thaddeus have, she probably won’t be able to bring us any food.”

  Bess fixed Josiah a bite to eat with a left over biscuit and some bacon. “Ben, you reckon maybe any of those people down there be slave hunters?”

  Ben shook his head. “No, I don’t. Maggie’s a Quaker and she wouldn’t have hunters in her house, ’specially on Christmas Day.”

  He saw the dubious look on Bess’s face, but he refused to allow his own moments of doubt about the Jeffersons clutter up his mind. They had to be good people. They just had to be.

  He pulled the heavy curtains on the windows and lit the oil lamps. As it got darker, the room became full of shadows. Ben began pacing. What if Bess is right, after all? What if all this was just leading up to them turning us over to slave hunters? More laughter came from below, as doors opened and closed. Horses whinnied, carriage doors slammed, and finally, the sound of horses’ hooves trotting down the road. All the noises from below ceased and the house became quiet. Very quiet.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The door opened and Thaddeus and Maggie walked in, each carrying a heavy platter of food. As they put them down on the table, Thaddeus said, “A Merry Christmas to you all. We be sorry supper is late. Our visitors didn’t want to go home until every last song was sung and every bit of food was gone.” His booming laugh echoed through the room.

  Maggie punched him on the arm. “Thaddeus, do be quiet. We have serious talk ahead of us.” She turned to Ben. “Ben, thee and thy friends partake heartily of this meal, and when thee is finished, pleased be to come down to the parlor. We have news for thee.”

  “For me? Can’t Jesse and Bess come, too?”

  “Do not fret thyself. It is good news for all, but we wish to talk with thee alone.” Maggie patted him on the shoulder, and she and Thaddeus walked out of the room.

  He looked at the table that was laden with the same kinds of food his mother prepared on Christmas Day. The rich aromas of roasted turkey and venison tickled his nose and made his eyes water. Hot cornbread and butter, cranberry sauce, oyster pie, corn pudding, boiled onions with a thick cream sauce, and sweet potato pie sat on the table, waiting for them to dig in. On another platter huge pieces of fruitcake were covered with a napkin.

  It was almost an hour later when Ben, so full he could barely walk, trudged down to the parlor. Thaddeus stood by a roaring fire in the stone fireplace, smoking a carved pipe. Maggie bent over some hand sewing, using the light shed from a large oil lamp.

  When he walked in, they both smiled and indicated a chair near Maggie for him to sit in. Thaddeus knocked his pipe against the fireplace and turned to Ben.

  “Ay, Ben, filled your belly, did you? Maggie and me, we was hoping our meal would be something like what you’d have got at home. Twas good food?”

  He laughed. “My ma would say it was scrumdillyumtious.” For just a moment, his smile quivered, before his face became serious. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  Thaddeus cleared his throat. He glanced around, shifted his feet, and cleared his throat again. “Ben, Maggie and me…well, first, we be wanting to tell you how much we think of you. You be just a lad, but you helped your friends escape their slave bonds like you was a grown-up man. You been their guide and protector for months just so’s they could be free. Most men wouldna’ done that. You got something to be proud of, boy.”

  “Thanks, Thaddeus. I hope my pa looks at it that way, but he’s probably more shamed than anything.”

  Thaddeus nodded. “I reckon you be right, what with him being a man of slavery. But that be neither here nor there. The second thing me and Maggie want to talk to you about is, you got to leave here tomorry. When this next bit of journey is over, ye’ll be close enough to the river to go it on your own. Now, Maggie, ye’ll tell him the rest?”

  Maggie laid her sewing down. “I know thee has been here a long time, but it’s been difficult to make arrangements this time of the year. Now, however, plans have fallen into place. It will be a hard journey for thee and thy friends. Yet, it is the best we could do.”

  “Why, what’s happening?”

  Maggie smiled and then sighed. “Ben, thee will be in a death coach. Bess and Jesse will be in the coffins. It will be hard and uncomfortable, but…”

  Ben couldn’t contain himself. “A death coach? With coffins? Maggie, slaves are real scared of them, they’re real superstitious about death and stuff. Huh, I’m not even sure I like the idea.”

  “We are aware of the superstitions slaves have about these matters. But thee mu
st persuade them, for this is the best we can do. Thee must pretend it is thy family in the coffins. Josiah will sit beside thee, and if thee is stopped and asked, he is your slave accompanying thee to help bury thy family.”

  Ben looked carefully at Maggie and Thaddeus, but he could see nothing but concern for him and his friends in their eyes. He nodded and said as much to himself as to them, “Then I guess this is the way it has to be.”

  The conversation that night between Ben, Jesse, and Bess was tight and uncomfortable. When Ben told them what the travel arrangements would be, Jesse flat out refused.

  “No suh, we not gettin’ in no coffins, no, surree. Them things carries dead peoples, only dead peoples. No, suh, not gettin’ in any coffins.”

  Bess tried to reason with him to no avail. Ben finally threw up his hands in frustration.

  “Okay, Jesse, no coffins. Then you tell me how we’re going to get to the river without help, and if this is the only way, then what?”

  But Jesse refused to answer. He sat stubbornly silent before going to bed without another word.

  They ate their last meal at the Jefferson’s house in the kitchen. When they were through, Willie, whom Ben had only seen once since the stream, handed Ben a knapsack with food in it.

  “Here,” the boy said with a shy smile. “It got food what my ma prepared for you. I hope you be safe.”

  Ben took the knapsack and thanked the boy. Willie grabbed his ever-present rifle and ran out of the house.

  A tap on the kitchen door announced the arrival of the death coach. Ben looked out the window at a large black carriage, drawn by four black horses and completely enclosed except for the driver’s bench. He remembered the last such coach he’d seen, with his grandfather inside, and he couldn’t stop a shudder.

  The Jeffersons went outside, and a moment later, the driver pulled the carriage up to the back door. Thaddeus and Maggie opened the glass doors to the back, and the driver rolled out a flat, rough wooden board with two coffins on it.

  Jesse and Bess stood looking at the coffins, fear obvious on their faces. Bess held Josiah by the hand as he buried his face against her, shaking.

  “Nossir, I’se not getting in them things. Them that gets in, never gets out. We goes on by ourselfs, takes our chances.” Jesse’s face was like a stone carving, stubbornness etched into each line.

  “Jesse, thee can’t go on by thyself. Thee has no chance of reaching freedom without help. Thee must think of thy wife and child and be a man for them, show them thee is not afraid. I promise, this is thy chance, and thee will get out of this coach.” Maggie laid her hand on the big man’s arm and pleaded with him.

  Jesse looked into her eyes for a long moment. His face became a mask of resignation as he nodded to Bess. He climbed into the largest casket and lay down on soft velvet that covered the bottom. Bess climbed into the next one, no less afraid, and Thaddeus slid the flower-covered tops on and rolled the board back into the coach.

  The driver turned to Ben and pointed to the caskets. “There are air holes in the sides of the caskets so there be no problem with themselves breathing. You, boy, go put these clothes on, you be riding up here with me.” He thrust a long black coat and hat at Ben.

  He took the clothes into the house, only to discover there were black breeches and a white shirt with a stiffly ruffled collar inside of the coat. He undressed and put the new clothes on. He rolled up his own pants, shirt, and jacket and stuffed them under his arm. When he went back to the coach, the driver reached over and pulled the ruffled collar out from under the coat lapels.

  “Doncha know how to dress for a burying, boy? Now button up yer coat tight, tuck that muffler round yer neck, and pull that hat down so’s nobody can see yer face. I don’t want no trouble with people asking questions, you hear? We see anybody, you is grieving and can’t talk, here me? And them that’s in the caskets, when I say they’re dead, they stay dead, understand?”

  Ben nodded before he turned to Maggie and Thaddeus. “I don’t know how to thank you. I…”

  Maggie gave him a quick hug. “We need no thanks, Benjamin. Thee hast done a wondrous thing, saving thy friends. Go now, and be safe.”

  Ben shook hands with Thaddeus and climbed onto the carriage bench. Thaddeus picked up Josiah, who was still shaking with fear, gave him a bear hug, and placed him on the bench next to Ben. The coachman snapped his whip at the horses and they drove away from the Jeffersons’ house.

  The gas lamp on each side of the carriage flicked occasionally with the wind, but other than that, the night was as black as the horses trotting on down an unseen road. Time passed, and the coachman said not a word. Ben became drowsy and leaned back against the seat. He shifted a little as Josiah rested his head on Ben’s shoulder and fell asleep. The only sounds were that of the horses’ hooves on the road and the wind murmuring through the trees.

  Ben woke up some hours later. “Are we never going to come into daylight?”

  “Aye, boy, daylight comes when it comes. ’Tis almost the month of January, ever’thing is frozen solid, and methinks even the sun hesitates to show his face. Prob’ly reckons ole’Devil Winter will freeze him, too.” Ben groaned at such a fanciful answer and decided to refrain from asking any more questions. He huddled back down in the seat and pulled the coat tighter around him, sticking his hands in the pockets. The longer they were on the road, the colder it seemed to get.

  It was a long time before the dark sky gave way to daybreak, which seemed to encourage the horses. They picked up their pace and pricked their ears forward, as if listening to something calling them down the road.

  Ben was dozing off and on when the coachman hit him on the shoulder. “Eh, lad, best be waking up now. We be close to our next stop for a bite of breakfast and to rest a bit.”

  A few minutes more and the horses settled down from a noisy trot to a quick walk as they came into a town. They swung into a narrow road leading to a farmhouse, and as they slowed their pace, the coachman turned them to the back of the house and pulled them to a stop. He dropped the reins and turned to Ben.

  “Here we be for a spell. Let’s get yer friends out and into the house.”

  The coachman opened the back of the carriage and pulled out the board holding the coffins. As soon as Ben and Josiah helped Bess and Jesse get out, the coachman pushed the board back inside again. He led them into a small, cozy kitchen, where a breakfast of hot porridge with brown sugar, biscuits and honey, and coffee was already waiting for them on a table.

  Ben finished eating and for the first time, noticed the kitchen was empty. He listened, but there were no sounds coming from either inside or outside of the house. Immediately, his suspicions were aroused.

  He glanced at Bess just as she said, “Ben, I don’t see nobody here ’bouts.”

  “I was wondering about that, too. You all stay here. I’m going to have a look around.”

  Ben walked out of the kitchen and stopped abruptly. Across the courtyard, the coachman was talking to another man. This man was tall and strongly built, with dark hair pulled neatly back under his top hat. He had on a long black coat pushed back on one side to reveal a long-barreled pistol in his belt. By his side sat a rangy coonhound, the same kind of dog slave hunters used.

  Ben didn’t waste time trying to hear what they were saying. He closed the door as quietly as possible, and whispered, “There’s a slave hunter outside talking to the coachman. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Bess gasped, and Jesse started to speak.

  Ben put his finger to his lips. “Shhh. Let me think.” He looked around the kitchen and noticed an open door leading to the parlor. Motioning to Bess and Jesse to stay where they were, he stepped quietly into the room and choked back an exclamation. There was no furniture anywhere, and the air was stale and full of dust. No one had made a home of this house for some time. Ben wondered who had cooked breakfast for them.

  He sniffed the air, and realized there was no food aroma. Breakfast had not been cooked here
. His hair was standing on end again.

  He eased the front door open and left his fingerprints on the dirty panels. The street was empty, except for a couple of dogs milling around. He stepped back away from the door and left it open. Maybe if they come looking for us, they’ll think we ran out this way.

  Back in the kitchen, he said quietly, “I don’t know what’s going on, but this house is empty. Nobody lives here, and I don’t even know where our breakfast came from. It wasn’t cooked here.”

  Bess tiptoed over to the wood stove and gingerly put out her hand. She touched it and frowned. “You right. This here stove be cold as a grave. Nobody done cook on it for a long time.”

  Ben noticed a second door along the back wall, to the left of the one they had come in. He opened it slightly, and saw a man walking up to the coachman. The hunter and his dog were nowhere around, but he pressed back into the doorway out of sight, anyway. He heard the man speaking.

  “Herman, the boss wants me to take this hearse on to the river. Says there’s a special delivery in it, so you best be going on now.”

  The coachman protested. “Now hold on there, Robby. This be my special delivery, and I ain’t gonna let you be crowding in. Boss man set me up for this, he sure not be taking it away. Means more money in my pocket, not yours.”

  Ben saw Robby put his hands on Herman’s chest and push him away. “Yeah,” he sneered, “boss man set you up, but then you made a pact with them devil hunters, and the boss’s not gonna let that happen. What, boss man didn’t pay you enough, you greedy scum? Get away from the coach.”

  The two men scuffled for a moment before Robby pulled Herman’s arm behind his back and marched him into the barn. Ben waited until they were out of sight before he ran back to the kitchen.

  “Come on, hurry, we’ve got to get into the coach. Don’t talk, just move.”