by Ann Towell
In loving memory of my parents,
Hermannus and Antonia Dekker.
CHAPTER
1
I live in a swamp. A dirty mess that reeks of sulphur and oozes black liquid that everyone says is as precious as gold. The squeal of wooden wagon wheels, the steady thump of the springboards, the creaking of the jerker lines and the squeaking hand pumps are the rhythm for all who work there.
The men don’t talk much when they work. Theirs is the kind of silence that makes you think everything is all right, but it’s only men’s excitement simmering under the surface like a pot before it starts to boil. Sometimes you don’t see the bubbles until it’s too late.
My friend, Moses, said his father walked miles to this country, only to move from one swamp to another. It just doesn’t make sense he told me, his eyes laughing along with his mouth. His pa came from the state of Mississippi in the United States of America. He’s happy here because he’s free.
“It’s that simple,” Moses said. “Freedom is happiness. Don’t matter if you’re rich or poor, just as long as you’re free.”
I believe that because Moses is a lot smarter than me. But he doesn’t come into this story until later. He’s one of the reasons I’ve stopped talking. There are others, but I’ll tell them as they come up.
I lived with my Aunt Sadie after my parents died. You see, Aunt Sadie’s sister married my Uncle Amos’s brother. That sister and that brother were my ma and pa. For six long months I lived with Aunt Sophie, trying to please her. She only had rules about things that didn’t matter much. I finally ran away with my brother, Lemuel, to Uncle Amos’s house.
I should probably tell you first, how I came about living in this swamp. My pa and ma both died from the fevers. Pa’s brother, Uncle Amos, was a doctor then and tried to save my folks, but he couldn’t. Aunt Sadie figured God needed Ma and Pa more than we did, so He came and took them. I pictured his big hand coming out of the sky and plucking them out of their beds. That big hand was in my nightmares for a long time.
It wasn’t so bad living with Aunt Sadie during the week when most of my days were spent away from her, at school. But come the weekend, she was unbearable. I was constantly being nagged to pick up after myself. I was afraid to even sit on the chairs in case one broke right out from under me.
It made me miss my parents even more. Sometimes I’d cry at night to the sound of the left-over crickets that didn’t have sense enough to see that the frost would kill them too. My heart was sore and feeling broken with loneliness.
Lemuel kept busy working as an apprentice for a blacksmith. He lived near the forge and hardly came to visit me. He’s six years older than me, so that would make him nineteen years old.
Well, one day when he did come to see me, he told us he was tired of his job. He was going to Uncle Amos’s place in the Enniskillen swamp because they had just discovered oil there. I was excited and sad at the same time – excited for him and sad for me.
He was going to buy some draught horses and work as a teamster, driving the heavy wagons holding barrels filled with oil. I asked him if I could go with him, even though I felt Aunt Sadie’s eyes on me, like daggers. Lem ignored me.
Aunt Sadie sat very straight in her chair as if her shoulders were glued to the back of it. “Where will you take the oil?” she asked, disapproval written all over her face.
“I plan on carting it to the refineries.” Lemuel took a sip of the tea with a wry face and looked at my uncle, Robert, who up until now had been sitting quietly. He is a banker and very successful. The brick house they live in is nice with lace curtains. The girl, Mary, does all the heavy chores so my aunt can spend time visiting and doing her church work.
Uncle Robert knew about the refineries in Sarnia, and he and Lem talked for a while. I lost track of their conversation because I was thinking how awful life was going to be once my brother left.
The next day at school, my friend Eli said to me, real serious like, “If I was you, I’d run away.”
I answered him just as quick, “Can I move in with you?”
Eli looked surprised. “No, I don’t figure you can. My ma has enough kids, and I don’t suppose she needs another.”
“Where should I go then? I suppose when you run, you need a place to run to.”
We both sat under a tree. He was chewing on a blade of grass. “Run away with Lem, dummy!”
“Lem won’t take me with him,” I said. “He knows I’m supposed to stay here and finish school.”
“I’d go if I could,” he remarked, spitting the grass out of his mouth. Eli reads a lot of adventure stories, and I think he was pretending one, through me.
“Why don’t you go?” I asked in a cross voice. “You know there’d be the devil to pay.”
Eli looked at the ground then back up at me. “I guess the problem is you’re just too scared.”
This made me very angry even though Eli watched out for me during school. Often the boys would play “keep away” with my glasses, or they would push me around until Eli came to the rescue.
Eli could see that I was getting worked up, and that’s what he wanted. “Just think of how everyone here will look up to you if you go.”
That did get me thinking. I was tired of being the whipping boy of the classroom. It’d be a nice to have my classmates respect me, for a change.
The day before my brother was to leave, some boys got a hold of my hat and were tossing it around between them. Eli finally came up behind one of them and boxed his ears. He took the hat back.
“See what I mean?” he said, handing the hat to me. “You’d get respect.”
Well, sir, that’s when I decided I’d stow away on my brother’s wagon.
The rest of that night I planned how I would do it. Lem stayed with us the Friday night before he left. He’d wanted to leave on Sunday, but Aunt Sadie carried on about “honoring the Sabbath,” so he decided to leave on Saturday, instead. I needed to get up very early, before he did, in order to succeed.
Aunt Sadie’s Mary prepared a really special meal for us. I was silent at suppertime, and I caught Aunt Sadie watching me more than once. I looked down so she couldn’t see my eyes. Aunt Sadie says that the eyes are the mirror of the soul. Well, this was one soul she wasn’t going to see.
Later, I hid my clothes under some sacking Lemuel had put in the back to protect his own belongings. I hoped he wouldn’t notice mine. My own dog-eared copy of Moby Dick lay under the burlap too. I figured I might want to read it again. I came back into the house, whistling as if I hadn’t a care in the world.
“You should get to bed early so you can see your brother off tomorrow,” Aunt Sadie said, putting the meat platter carefully onto the sideboard.
“Yes ma’am, but I would like to spend a bit more time with him now, if I could,” Her eyes softened toward me.
“You can stay up for another half hour. Then off to bed with you.”
I sat on the floor beside my brother listening to everything he said. I especially wanted to know what time he was leaving, so I could hide on the wagon.
“I’m not sure how Amos will take to having you there, Lem. He’s not known to be sociable,” Uncle Robert said. He tamped the tobacco down into his pipe. He took a piece of kindling and stuck it in the fire. Then he lit his pipe and stared at the flames as if mesmerized. “I dare say it’ll take some getting used to living down there. But,” he sighed, “nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“It’s a manner of speaking, boy, a figure of speech.”
“Oh,” I whispered. I wanted to ask so many questions, but knew this wasn’t the time for interrupting. I sat quiet until summoned for bed.
That night my body seemed too small to contain al
l the excitement rolled up in my stomach. I lay still on the bed to stop the dizziness. I heard the rest of them say goodnight and Lemuel walk down the hall to the guest room, which was next to mine.
It was a long while before I drifted off to sleep. I heard the creak of Lemuel’s bed. He got up a few times in the night too. I guess he was as nervous as me. I hoped he wouldn’t be too angry when he discovered I was with him tomorrow.
“Titus, get on down here!” Aunt Sadie’s call woke me up.
I came down to a breakfast of steaming porridge and even coffee for all of us. I gobbled my food and watched my brother do the same. He was in an all-fired rush to get out of there, before the roads got crowded with oxen carts carrying vegetables and fruit from the country into town.
We all went outside and stood in front of the house, the house with the lace curtains at the windows. I couldn’t seem to find a way to sneak onto the wagon without anyone noticing. I asked if I could ride with Lem a ways to say a last good-bye.
At first, Aunt Sadie said no and told me I needed to weed the front gardens for her. But Uncle Robert was on my side.
“Let the boy go, Sadie. It’s just for a bit. He’ll be back soon to help out here.”
Aunt Sadie gave in. I hopped onto the seat of the wagon, next to my brother, and tried not to smile too widely. Uncle Robert hit the rump of one horse and the team started moving slowly down the street. Lemuel glanced back once, waving enthusiastically. Then he threw his hat in the air and whooped. I didn’t mind getting down to fetch it for him.
He waited until I got back on. Then he started in on me. “Mind Aunt Sadie now, you hear? When I get settled there, I’ll send for you.”
“Why can’t I go now and help you get settled?”
“It isn’t fittin’. You’ve got school first. Besides, you’re just a kid.”
He turned in his seat, but kept his hands steady on the reins. “It’s a man’s world where I’m goin’, Titus, and you won’t like it. Ma wanted you to finish school and go to college.” He paused. “You know that.”
“I’m getting bigger, Lemuel. I already read hard books. The teacher said I’m almost ready for normal school.”
“Ma wanted you to stay in, and I mean to see that you do by leaving you with Aunt Sadie.”
“You’re doing nothin’ of the sort. You’re just running off on an adventure and leaving me alone.”
I jumped off of the wagon, landing in the dust of the road. It puffed up around me, like powder, making my trousers all dirty.
“You’ll write me won’t you? I want to hear about everything.” I said.
Lem got off of the wagon and hugged me hard enough to almost break my back.
“I love you, Titus, and don’t forget it. I’m just trying to make my way in the world. I’ll send for you when I’m ready.”
I pretended to forgive him and hugged him back. I started for home, while he got back up on the wagon. The farmers were coming into town already. Lemuel was preoccupied, keeping his team in line, while he waited for the road to clear. He didn’t notice me sneak onto his wagon.
I know I’ve been rambling a bit, but I need the story to come out right somehow.
There are times you just want to lay your burden down. But this is mostly about Moses’s burden, not mine. I cared for him like a brother, though it wouldn’t seem like it in the end because when push came to shove, there was nothing I could do to help him.
CHAPTER
2
I was under the sacking. The dust was tickling my nose. I hoped I wouldn’t sneeze. I didn’t want Lemuel to find me until I was good and ready to be found. We were on the road for quite a while, and I must have drifted off to sleep because I awoke with a jolt.
The wagon was running over something that tossed it around like a ship at sea. I thought of Moby Dick and remembered Ishmael listening to Father Mapple’s sermon, about the disobedient Jonah who goes on a ship fleeing from God. I was like him, fleeing from God – and Aunt Sadie.
I inched my way to the end of the wagon. I peered out from under the burlap and saw what was making the trip so rough. The road was made out of logs. We were on a corduroy road. I felt a little sick from the uneven movement of the wagon, not to mention my aching backside. I closed my eyes to stop myself from feeling worse.
My mind trembled and I was struck with my own wickedness. I’d run away and made Aunt Sadie worry, and now, Lemuel would be angry too. I wondered if I should have come out from hiding right then to face the storm that was surely brewing.
But no, sir. Now you see my true character. I would rather wait to show myself; wait until we were so far from London that Lemuel would have to take me with him; wait until Aunt Sadie paced the floor in worry. I felt guilty, but not guilty enough. I had come too far to go back. It was like the oil fever had gotten a strangle hold of me too.
I sniffled and felt sorry for myself, but only for a short while. I felt a little better wwhen the sun’s friendly warmth heated up the sacking. Lemuel was whistling on the front seat and the wagon was still tipping and swaying along the road. I knew I would have bruises all over my body by the time we reached wherever we were going.
Patience is not my strong virtue. I used to talk too much, and I don’t listen very well to others. I wanted so badly to come out from under the sacking. My legs were itching with the thought of moving my body, but I kept telling myself to lie still. I didn’t want to be sent back.
The dull sound of the wind in the trees accompanied us all that day. Despite the jerking motion of the wagon and the clop clopping of the horses, I fell asleep again. I woke up when the wagon came to a standstill. I didn’t dare move. I could hear the clomp of boots as Lemuel got down. He called out to someone, asking if he could water the horses. There were other voices nearby. The wagon jolted as the horses moved to a trough to drink. The slurping and sloshing of water made me very thirsty.
Lemuel wandered off and so did the others. I waited a while, unsure of what to do. But Lemuel was gone for so long, I couldn’t resist moving out from under the sack. I lifted my head and then slowly inched my way to look over the side of the wagon. A strong hand clamped down on my collar and lifted me up. My heart slipped down to the bottom of my shoes. I could hardly breathe. My collar was cutting off my windpipe. I kicked my feet, hoping to defend myself.
“What have we here? Hey fellers lookee here. I got me a stowaway!” He had already put me on the ground, but didn’t let go.
“Let the boy go.” A second man was fastening the bridle on his horse.
They talked kind of funny. I know now that they spoke like southerners, like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths.
The man by the horse said, “You’re cutting off the boy’s air. He can scarcely breathe.”
The hand loosened its grip. “Come here, lad,” the bridle-tightening man beckoned.
You could tell he was what Aunt Sadie called “quality” by the way he was dressed. His clothes were finer than usual. His coat lifted a little in the breeze, and I saw a gun in a holster on his hip.
“Now … you must have a good reason for being on this wagon.” His voice rose at the end of his statement making it seem like a question.
“Well sir,” my gaze faltered, and I mumbled something in my fear. My glasses were crooked and dirty, and I wanted to fix them, but didn’t dare do anything.
“Speak up boy,” he said, sterner this time.
“It’s my brother’s wagon,” I said. The man bent down so he could hear me. “He’s in there.” I pointed toward the two-storey frame inn.
“Your brother?”
“Yes sir,” I nodded trying to be very polite. I hoped Lemuel would come out soon and rescue me.
“Come along then, and you point out your brother to me.”
I followed him into the building and the other man followed. There were long tables stretched across the room. One woman stood behind a counter and was serving up something that looked like stew. I realized how hungry, how dusty, how lon
ely I was.
Lemuel had his head down, scooping the food into his mouth as if he didn’t have a moment to spare. He didn’t look up until we bumped against his table. He noticed the gentleman first. He stood up in a mannerly way and finally caught sight of me, trying to hide behind the man. Lem’s eyes widened and his eyebrows came down in a scowl.
“Where did you come from?” he growled at me.
The gentleman spoke, “It’s obvious you know who this young scamp is.”
“Yes sir, I do. And you have the right of it, calling him a scamp.”
“He claims he’s your brother.”
“He is that, sir.”
“Well, I’ll leave him to you then. Good day.”
Lemuel nodded his head, then he turned to me. His eyes were like the hot coals of the smithy.
“How did you end up here? I don’t suppose you ran all the way behind the wagon?”
“No,” I mumbled. “I rode on the back of the wagon under the sacking. You’re not sending me back though, are you Lemuel? I can help you with the horses and cooking and everything. I won’t be a bother. I promise. Just don’t send me back.” My hands were clutching at his coat.
“Sit down. Quit making a spectacle of yourself. You might as well eat. I’ve got some serious thinking to do.” He called to the woman to bring another bowl of stew with some bread.
She came with it, the steam rising. I didn’t dare say anything while Lemuel appeared to be thinking. He mopped up the gravy with the heel of his bread. He must have been as hungry as I was.
While Lem was thinking about what to do with me, the people at the next table talked about the man with the gun. They figured he was a bounty hunter because he was asking questions about an escaped slave. He had a reward poster with a drawing on it, but no one in these parts had seen the slave.
The man who had grabbed me by the collar was sitting in the corner of the room eyeing us carefully. I didn’t trust him. There was just something about his eyes that didn’t sit right with me.
He had a huge mug of beer in front of him and took a swallow as I watched. He smacked his lips in an exaggerated manner and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he laughed, and I shivered in spite of myself.