Guide Me Home

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Devlin made a face. “I didn’t intend to insult you. Or your family. Educated and intelligent aren’t necessarily synonymous. But after spending the afternoon with you and your sister, the differences in your speech became quite evident. Why do you have a more pronounced speech pattern, Reb? Have you done some traveling, perhaps attended school outside of the hills?”

  They trudged onward, the torchlight bouncing off the walls and painting a circle for them to follow. After several seconds of silence, Reb finally sighed. “I’ve never been farther from home than I am now at the estate. But…I used to read.”

  Tolly’s chest clenched. Reading was a touchy subject for folks of his color. Having been born into slavery, he didn’t get the chance for schooling until after the war. But even then, the school open to black children didn’t have the same books and such as the white children’s schools. And the teacher didn’t seem to think the dark-faced children sitting on the benches had sense enough to learn. What he picked up in the way of education mostly came from watching and doing and studying on his own.

  But he could read some. And he could write his full name instead of making a mark. His pappy’d been right proud of him for learning to spell out his full name—Tolliver Moses Sandford. But he’d never in his fifty-four years of life read a book from its beginning to its end. Not even his grandpappy’s Bible. Someday he sure hoped to.

  Devlin’s eyebrows shot up. “There’s a library around here?”

  “No. But a woman started coming around with a book wagon nine or ten years ago. She rides through twice a month, and folks borrow whatever they want and then give it back when she returns. I’ve borrowed dozens of books from her.”

  Why hadn’t the woman ever come to the estate? He’d have borrowed a book or two.

  Devlin said, “Who is your favorite author, Reb?”

  “I’m particularly fond of Hawthorne and Dumas, and my sisters like me to read Alcott’s works to them at bedtime.”

  The two of them chatted about The Count of Monte Cristo, talk beyond Tolly’s understanding, but he stayed quiet and let them jabber on. They didn’t sound scared or worried anymore, and with them talking to each other, he could give some thought to who might have come along and poked around in their packs.

  During the summer months families with youngsters old enough to be running around on their own but not grown up enough to develop good sense yet spent weeks at the estate. And every summer they’d had to watch to make sure none of them sneaked into parts of the cave not open to guests. It was still early—school still going—so he didn’t think he could blame the theft of the torches and food on visiting school-age boys. But maybe some local youths, too old for school but not staying busy in their daddies’ fields, had come in without invitation. Maybe a thief or some other kind of criminal was using the caverns as a hiding spot from the law. The cave’s entrance was unblocked all day even though the guides came and went for only three different tours. Somebody could go in easy enough.

  The passage narrowed, and Tolly moved into the lead again. The tire on the waywiser squeak-squeaked along behind him, and Devlin and Reb started talking about some poor woman who’d been forced to wear a red letter on her dress so everybody would know she’d sinned. As aggravated as Tolly was with whoever’d come along and taken those turnovers—his mouth watered just thinking about the moist cake spiced with cinnamon—he wouldn’t publicly shame the thief. He’d give him a good talking-to, though, about being foolish.

  He might not have been educated in a schoolhouse, but he knew this cave inside and out. His pappy’d pounded into him the importance of never going in alone, of always taking emergency gear, of marking his way and counting his steps and always—always—watching where he put his feet. Children looking for adventure didn’t have safety in their heads. That’s how come they ran into trouble, like Reb’s brother had done. Finding one boy dead in the cave was too many for Tolly’s heart. He couldn’t take it if somebody else came up lost and dead in his cave.

  The passage curved gently, bringing them to the final leg of the Grand Crossing. Up ahead the Corkscrew waited—a taxing climb to Broadway, the large tunnel that led to the outside. He’d light a new torch when they reached the Corkscrew, make sure they had good light for the climb, and as soon as they made it back to the hotel, he’d tell the trustee it was time to post guards outside the entrance day and night. The man claimed he appreciated Tolly’s knowledge of the cave, but he didn’t always act like he appreciated getting advice from a white-bearded black man. And he didn’t always take the advice, either.

  Well, if Mr. Janin didn’t see fit to follow Tolly’s suggestion, then he would put the guides on a watch-keeping schedule himself. Maybe, if he was real lucky, one of them would catch his thief coming out of the cave and he’d be able to give the reckless person a dose of sense.

  Rebekah

  Rebekah’s hands trembled as she battled hickory bark into a tight bundle around the ball of pitch at the end of the river-cane handle. She sat on her stoop alone. Tolly had gone to the main building to talk to the cave’s trustee. With him gone and Devlin at work at the table in her cabin, it seemed as if she and Devlin sat side by side.

  She listened to the scritch-scritch of his pen on the paper, the occasional creak of the chair as he shifted positions, the soft clearing of his throat. How could such insignificant noises affect her so deeply? It was as though her entire being was connected to him somehow. A disconcerting feeling. And she needed to break the spell.

  Without conscious thought she began singing one of the ballads Mama used to sing at night as the fire began to die in the hearth. “ ‘It was in and about the Martinmas time, when the green leaves were a-falling, that Sir John Graeme, in the West Country, fell in love with Barbara Allen…’ ” She held back, not singing so loudly she would attract the attention of the other guides who’d left their doors open to invite in the evening breeze but loudly enough to cover the sounds proving Devlin’s presence.

  On she sang from verse to verse, almost mindlessly, while continuing to fashion the torches. The gentle breeze teased her hair. She pushed the waving strands behind her ears, never missing a beat of the ballad. She reached the final verse and finished as breathily as if she’d been running a footrace. “ ‘Since my love died for me today, I’ll die for him tomorrow.’ ”

  “It’s a lovely song, but the words are somewhat depressing, don’t you think?”

  She jolted. The torch slipped from her hands and bounced on the grass, the bark coming loose. She shot a look over her shoulder. Devlin leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed negligently over his chest and one toe planted against the floor. Oh, what a pose of relaxation and confidence he painted.

  Heat attacked her face. She reached for the torch. “I suppose most of the ballads the hills folks sing are sad stories set to music.”

  “Are they all so haunting in melody?”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant by “haunting.” She rolled the bark tightly and didn’t answer.

  His sigh drifted on the breeze. “I’m sorry I disturbed you. I’ll return to work. Feel free to sing another ballad, Miss Reb. I find your voice very pleasing.”

  The scuff of footsteps followed by the squeak of the chair legs told her he’d settled himself at the table again. She swallowed the odd lump of longing his kind words had stirred and searched her mind for another ballad. She chose one Daddy liked to sing, “The Wayfaring Stranger.” “ ‘I’m just a poor wayfaring stranger, traveling through this world of woe…’ ”

  The final stanza, which spoke of going home to see one’s Savior, tugged at Rebekah’s heart in a sweet way even though it referenced death. Heaven, the true home for each of God’s followers, waited at the end of her life’s journey. Grandpappy, Grandmama, all the little babies who’d gone straight from Mama’s belly to Jesus’s arms, and Andy were already there. She wasn’t in any hurry to join them, but it gave her a lift to know she’d be with them again someday.

>   “Very nice, Miss Reb.” Devlin’s warm voice carried from inside the cabin, sending a spiral of pleasure around her frame.

  She hugged herself, smiling, and then a worrisome thought attacked. She sat up straight and tried to peer through the doorway. “Devlin?”

  “Yes?”

  “Will you go to heaven when you die?”

  Silence fell inside the cabin for long seconds. Then a soft chuckle rolled. “What kind of question is that?”

  An important one. He’d leave at the end of the summer, and she might not ever see him again. Except in the land of glory. She planted her palms on the stoop to hold herself in place. “I want to know. Are you heaven bound?”

  The chair legs screeched. His feet thudded on the floor. He stepped into the doorframe, a scowl marring his brow. “Are you asking me seriously?”

  She nodded, her entire body tense.

  His scowl remained intact. He pushed his hands into his trouser pockets and tucked his elbows tight. “I hope so. The thought of going to…the other place…holds no delight. I’m a good person. I follow the laws penned by men, and I don’t believe I break any of the commandments written in the Bible.” His stiff pose melted, and relief crept across his features. “So, yes, I suppose you could say I’m heaven bound.”

  Tears stung Rebekah’s eyes. Preacher Haynes’s voice echoed in her memory. “Hell’s depths’ll be filled with good folks who never took the time to meet Jesus.” Slowly she shook her head, partly in response to Devlin’s statement and partly in unwillingness to accept the truth of what his answer indicated. Unless something changed in his heart, she wouldn’t see him again after this summer. And that thought pained her worse than anything ever had.

  Rebekah

  Rebekah bolted upright, sending the unfinished torch rolling across the ground. “Devlin, you—”

  “Reb!” Tolly jogged toward them, his face glistening with perspiration in the early-evening sunlight. “Go tell all the guides to meet in my cabin. We gots somethin’ impo’tant to talk about.”

  Rebekah wrung her hands. She had something important to talk to Devlin about. “But, Tolly, I—”

  “Get ’em now, Reb. An’ hurry. Gotta get this settled befo’ the sun sets.”

  She felt the same way, but she couldn’t argue with her boss. She sighed. “Yes, sir.”

  Devlin went back inside, and she made her way along the row of cabins, knocking on doorjambs and directing everyone to meet with Tolly. Within a few minutes, they’d all crowded into his cabin and found places to sit.

  Rebekah perched on the corner of Tolly’s bed next to a burly guide named Luther and listened while Tolly explained the day’s theft. “Mr. Janin, he already has men hired to guard the cave’s openin’, but they ain’t scheduled to start work fo’ anothuh couple weeks. So even though he agrees we best start early an’ keep the openin’ to the cave secure from trespassuhs, he say he might not be able to bring them fellas in befo’ the summer season. An’ it ain’t likely somebody’s gonna wanna take on a job that only lasts a week. So I tol’ him we guides would take turns until his fellas could get here.”

  Complaining mumbles rolled through the room.

  Tolly raised his pink palms. “I know, I know, means we’s gonna be losin’ some sleep. But trust me when I say we’ll lose less sleep keepin’ watch than we will if somebody gets lost in there an’ ends up dyin’.”

  More murmurs circulated, these offering agreement.

  Tolly smiled. “I figure we can do this one o’ two ways. Each o’ us takes a few hours ever’ day, or we can go ever’ othuh day coverin’ longuh hours. I’s gonna let y’all choose.”

  Rebekah didn’t care, so she sat in silence. While the men established a daily schedule, she planned how she would address the topic of knowing for sure where a person would spend eternity. Her heart felt weighted by Devlin’s uncertainty. How could folks live day to day not knowing for sure their souls were secure? His frown and uncertain comment—“I hope so”—haunted her. She twitched with eagerness to leave this meeting and talk to Devlin.

  “Reb, you gonna be all right takin’ the early-mo’nin’ shift?”

  She jerked. “What?”

  Tolly scowled at her. “Ain’t you listenin’?”

  All eight guides were looking at her. She hunched her shoulders, wishing she could shrink. “I…I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t.”

  Tolly huffed. “Well, listen up now. The men don’t want you sittin’ out at the openin’ alone in the dark. So they’s willing to take the nighttime hours an’ give you the ones aftuh the sun comes up an’ befo’ the tours start. Is you agreeable?”

  She flashed a grateful smile across the sea of faces. “Yes, and thank you.”

  Tolly shook his head, his lips pursed in a tight line.

  She lowered her head.

  He addressed the others, his tone brisk. “All right then, Crit, you head on out there now. Argil’ll relieve you at midnight. Belvy, take ovuh at three, an’ then Reb’ll come take yo’ place at six. Reb, you stay put there ’til Luthuh brings the first tour group at nine.”

  “All right, Tolly.” Then she gave a start. “But wait. I can’t be at the opening from six to nine. We take Devlin in at seven.”

  Tolly’s face pinched into a grimace. He gestured to the others, and they filed out. As soon as they were gone, Tolly guided Rebekah onto his stoop and stood with his hands in his pockets. “Listen, Reb, next few days, I’m plannin’ on purty much campin’ in the cave. Gonna be goin’ in too deep to come back out ever’ evenin’. Just wouldn’t be right fo’ you, bein’ female, to stay nights in there wit’ the two o’ us men. So I’m gonna have you pair up wit’ Crit, an’ I’m takin’ Lee in wit’ me an’ Devlin.”

  Her heart sank. “But, Tolly, I—”

  “Now, you’ll be jus’ fine wit’ Crit. He knows that cave as good as I do, an’ I’d trust him wit’ my own daughter if I had one. So no worryin’. I tol’ Crit he could count on you.” He squinted one eye at her. “I di’n’t tell ’im wrong, now did I?”

  She swallowed a protest. “No, sir.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Tolly patted her shoulder and then gave her a little nudge toward the pile of torch materials lying in the grass next to her stoop. “Now, I already put Coopuh on packin’ up a goodly portion o’ victuals, an’ we’s also gonna need a whole passel o’ torches. So c’mon, let’s get busy.”

  Rebekah shot Tolly a hopeful look. “Is it all right if I talk to Devlin while we work?”

  An uneasy glimmer entered his eyes. “You’s gonna miss gettin’ to see him ever’ day, ain’tcha?”

  More heat flooded her face. She wished she could deny Tolly’s statement, but she couldn’t. Not without telling a bald lie. But Tolly didn’t know everything. “He and I were talking about something important when you came along and interrupted. I want to finish the conversation.”

  Tolly glanced through her doorway. Regret—or was it relief?—pursed his face. “Well, I’s sorry, Reb, but that talk’s gonna hafta wait fo’ anothuh day. Devlin’s already gone on to his place.”

  Devlin

  Rebekah’s sweet yet poignant melodies played through Devlin’s memory as he readied himself for bed. It was early yet for sleep, but according to Tolly they would have a more taxing day tomorrow than any thus far and then they would sleep in the cave. He speculated tomorrow night would be a restless, wakeful one, so extra sleep tonight would benefit him. If he could manage to fall asleep.

  Most of the guests had departed on yesterday’s evening stagecoaches, including the young couple who’d spent the weekend in the cottage next to his. Their constant chatter and laughter had filtered even through the solid log wall, intruding upon his privacy. Tonight, however, the silence seemed cloying, and he missed the sounds that proved how much they enjoyed each other’s company.

  Loneliness panged. A surprising emotion. He couldn’t honestly recall ever experiencing loneliness, even though he’d spent a good portion of his child
hood alone. But lying there in his bed with fading evening light slanting through his window, he pondered the strange emptiness holding him captive, such a contrast to the full, blissful feelings he’d experienced while listening to Rebekah sing from her spot on the cabin’s stoop.

  A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth in response to his reflections. She was a woman of surprises. Somehow, even attired in men’s clothing, she possessed a graceful femininity. She carried a heavy tote mile after mile over uneven terrain and offered not even the slightest complaint. She spent her days toiling to earn a wage but not for her own uses. Instead, she worked to benefit her family, which spoke so clearly of her unselfish character.

  The hollow ache in his chest magnified. Was he truly lying here in his shadowy room pining for a young woman from the hill country? Mother would be appalled. Generally the thought of his parents’ displeasure would send him scurrying in a different direction, but his desire to spend time with Rebekah didn’t diminish. Not even a smidgeon.

  He blew out a noisy breath, punched the pillow twice, and rolled to his side. He closed his eyes, determined to set aside thoughts of Rebekah and indulge in a deep, restful sleep. A snippet of the last song Rebekah had crooned whispered through his mind.

  “I’m going home no more to roam…”

  The words taunted him, but he didn’t understand why. And the confusion held sleep at bay for hours.

  Cissy

  Cissy herded Della, Jessie, Tabitha, and Trudy out the door and up the road. Her heart beat a happy patter. Only one more week of school and then she’d be free of studies and books and clumsy boys who took glory in teasing. The summer stretched out in front of her like the open arms of a handsome gentleman, beckoning her to step into the embrace and experience bliss.

  She fell behind the others, enjoying a few moments of solitude while birds chirped in the trees and squirrels chased each other through patches of shade. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy. So carefree. And all because Daddy and Mama had told her she could take the job at the cave with Mr. Temperance.