Simon turned to her. “You dare to touch me, filthy traitor? I regret you were ever born!” He bestowed upon Bianca a stare that sent fear coursing through her body. “You will indeed listen for me, and I will take what I want. You cannot tell me what I can and cannot do. These others will come back with us.”
Simon wrenched himself from Bianca’s grasp. He feverishly groped for Gloria’s arm. “Interfering witch! You have no right to touch my things! Those are my sister’s tears! She left me, and all I have is the reminder of her weakness. Without that reminder, how can I be strong? How can I make my father proud? Restore to me my property!” Bianca realized that Father was trying to take the box of jewels.
Isaac raised a meaty hand, intercepting Simon’s own. “Say your daughter’s name,” Isaac growled, his voice sounding like the quaking earth.
Simon sneered. “You dare to order me to do something? I am master, and you are nothing! She has no name.”
“Say it!” Isaac grabbed Simon’s wrist and twisted it, causing Simon to bellow in pain.
“I-I will not say it! She is weak, and she is nothing to me!” Simon finally stammered, his cheeks growing ashen with fear.
Isaac turned to Priscilla who was standing beside him. “Then I claim Bianca as my daughter,” he said. He released Simon’s arm in disgust, and the man fell to his knees, all bravado gone.
“I claim her as my sister,” Annika called from the crowd. “We all claim her.”
Bianca looked upon the crowd. Everyone smiled at her and raised their hands in a gesture of welcome.
“We claim the sojourners who brought the young boy here,” Charles said. “And we claim the child and his mother if they desire to stay.” His voice boomed with authority. He nodded to the family on the platform. “You may all step down now.”
His steely gaze turned to Simon, who still cowered on the ground. “As for you, dragon, I think your lies will not withstand the truth when the proper evidence is presented.” He surveyed the vast crowd, his eyes resting longest on Gloria. She nodded at him. Then he held the mobile aloft. He addressed Simon once more. “Since you refuse mercy, prepare to suffer judgment.”
Guards materialized from every direction. Simon was bound in chains. He cursed and struggled, but to no avail.
Bianca stared over the crowd, not believing her eyes. Her family surged around her, and she suddenly knew that she was home.
One woman stood apart, her ravaged face weary but her head held high. Hesitantly, Bianca gestured for Gloria to join them. After a moment, Gloria did so.
Trembling, she handed the box of jewels to Bianca. “You were right to call me ugly,” she whispered. “I sought to have you killed so that I might obtain your gift of listening to the earth’s music. I was foolish and desperate. I cannot repair what I have done.”
Bianca stared at Gloria for a long moment. Then she looked toward her new family. She shook her head. “I was wrong,” she said. “You are more beautiful than I thought.” She handed the box back to Gloria. “Won’t you please use this to help other slaves find their way here? I learned of a store where a man and his wife help slaves find freedom. The wife’s name is Janet. Perhaps she can help you.”
Gloria hesitated for a moment then closed her hand over the box. She nodded. “I will go back across the river,” she said, “and I will do what I can to mend the evil that’s been done. They have claimed Edward, so he will remain here until I return.”
Stepmother and stepdaughter embraced.
Epilogue
“Do you think that Priscilla will want spice cake for her wedding?” Annika grinned at Bianca as the girls gathered flowers for a breakfast centerpiece. The perfume of the roses tickled the girls’ noses and caused them to sneeze.
Bianca laughed. “Spice cake is Mother’s favorite, so I hope so.” She thought with rapture of Mother’s wedding preparations. Priscilla and Isaac would be wed at the end of the month.
The earth had not called to Bianca since the night after Simon’s sentencing. On that night, she had dreamed of the earth. It had rumbled and quaked. Then a panicked scream had filled her ears. Bianca knew without having to be told that the mine where Simon had been imprisoned had collapsed.
Bianca hoped she would hear the earth again in time. If she did, she would tell someone who would take only what was necessary. Perhaps she could use the jewels to bring other slaves here. There were endless possibilities.
Gloria had been true to her word. Slaves from Simon’s plantation and from other areas were coming to Hart Spring in droves. The jewels Simon had stolen were being put to good use. Edward had had no further bouts of sickness.
Bianca smiled at Annika. “Let’s ask George if we can go fishing today,” she said. “Edward loves catfish.”
Annika grinned. “I’ll bet Papa and Isaac will be glad to have a rest from building on the extra rooms to the cabin.”
Bianca nodded. “I’m sure they will. Come on.” She took Annika’s hand, and the girls skipped toward the cabin. Now that eight people resided there, the family was working to add extra room.
The girls waved as they passed Edward. The little boy was carrying an empty water pail. “Morning, Edward,” Bianca called.
Edward waved back and grinned. “Louise says I’m strong enough to fetch the water myself today,” he said proudly.
Even at so young an age, the boy carried himself with regal grace. Bianca knew he would grow up to become a great man. She watched Edward skip toward the river. She bowed her head with sadness as she thought of the father she had lost. Then she smiled as she breathed a prayer of thanksgiving for the family she had found.
As she approached the cabin, Bianca sang softly. Her voice was a pale shadow of Mother’s, but her joy made the song sound more beautiful than any dove’s refrain:
Across the dividing river,
Amid wildflowers’ golden gleam,
Lies a land bought by brutal means,
A land where we have come.
Acknowledgements
I am indebted to authors Julius Lester and Tim Tingle, whose books entitled Day of Tears and Crossing Bok Chitto: A Choctaw Tale of Freedom and Friendship sparked the inspiration for this story. Hart Spring is different from anything I’ve ever written, and I was truly amazed at how vividly the characters appeared in my mind. It is incredible how authors’ works might light candles of inspiration for other ideas.
“Snow White” is my favorite of the Grimm Brothers’ stories despite its many disturbing themes. It is, in my opinion, one of the most complex of the Grimms’ collected stories. I relate to Snow White because, like her, I was sent away from home at a very early age and had to adjust to new surroundings and people. To me, “Snow White” is not a romance but a tale of finding where you belong even if innocence is lost. So, I wanted to focus on family in my retelling as opposed to creating a romantic tale. I am eternally grateful to my own family, who have made sacrifices too numerous to mention in order that I might learn to walk the path Jesus has established for my life. God bless you all.
I would like to thank Hannah Williams, who took the time to design an incredible cover for this story collection. She is talented, and she is very accommodating. And I am grateful to Savannah Jezowski, who did amazing work on interior layout design. I am grateful to Stephanie Ricker, an amazing editor whose insights helped me to polish these tales and make them shine. I am thankful for the fairy tale writing contests of Rooglewood Press, for without them, these stories would not have been written.
Finally, I would like to say that I was nervous writing Hart Spring, as I did not feel qualified to write about the theme of slavery. However, the idea was so strong in my mind that I had to write it down. I researched slave settlements and abolitionists but know there is always more research to be done. The fight for freedom was not as simple as this tale might imply. I tried to create a fantasy world that had some roots in American history but was totally its own place. I do not mean this story to be historical fiction, but a fa
iry tale reflective of the truth. Any errors in this story are entirely my own.
About the Author
Meredith Leigh Burton is a voracious devourer of fairy tales. She is a motivational speaker, writer, and teacher. She attended the Tennessee School for the Blind and Middle Tennessee State University. She received a degree in English and theater. Meredith hopes to convey through her stories that those with differences can contribute much to the world. She resides in Lynchburg, Tennessee.
Blind Beauty and Other Tales of Redemption Page 15